Chapter Thirty-Six: Scream

Disclaimer: All characters belong to J.K. Rowling. The underlined portions are taken directly from the novel; I do not own those parts. They belong to J.K. Rowling.

Author's Note: This fanfiction is going to be different from my other stories. This begins during Chamber of Secrets and goes up until three years after the Dark War. So, pay attention the time, so you don't get confused. Some of the chapters are other Marcus Flint/Katie Bell stories, just with more changes and deleted scenes added.

Time: Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix

Genre: Romance, Drama, and Friendship

Rating: PG-13

Marcus stood in front of the large window that took up the A-Frame part of his house facing the lake. He could saw Damon approaching and briefly wondered why his friend was coming through the back inside of the front. He took a long, drink of coffee. He really could not stand the stuff, but found himself oddly addicted to it. He supposed that it was better than some of his habits.

Damon pushed the door open. "You really should lock your doors, you know," he said in greeting.

"Why lock them when I am here?" Marcus asked.

"You were not here last night and they were unlocked." Damon went into the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee. "Speaking of which, where were you?" he asked as he came back.

Last night, Marcus had been in London showing the Order the runes that Natalia had given him. He had translated part of them, but there was still a lot to do. He was not sure how the Order felt about Natalia. If she was willing to offer information, then they would be stupid to turn it down. He agreed with Natalia: people tended to talk in Knockturn Alley. He knew that he could not tell Damon any of that.

"I went to my parent's for a little bit," Marcus said making up a lie. It really was not a lie. He had gone to his parents' house for ten minutes.

Damon took a long drink of coffee. He seemed to buy it. "Question. Since when do you like coffee?"
Marcus stared the black substance in his mug. It seemed good, but tasted awful. "I do not really like it."

"Then, why do you drink it?"

"Hastings has been throwing some pretty early practices at us." Marcus watched as some mist rolled off the lake below his house. "This stuff seems to make me fully function in the morning."

"Probably having a hangover makes it worse," Damon mused.

"It is a killer then." Marcus took another drink. "That is why I try to avoid alcohol before practice, games, or seeing my parents."

Damon looked out the window. "You will not be able to drink on weekends once your games start."

Marcus shook his head. "There is always Sunday after my games. We do not have practice on days following games."

"True, true, true." Damon sat his mug down on the table behind him. "Will we ever stop planning on getting drunk?"

Marcus sat his mug down next to Damon's. "We are not as bad as we used to be. I do not think we will do this for the rest of our lives."

"Yeah, our livers would be fired by then."

Marcus looked out the window. With Damon, he was like any other nineteen year old. He could go out and have a life. The Order expected him to behave like he was forty or so. They kept him close and created his own personal Hell. They would not listen to him. He knew that they were using him and probably would drop him as soon as they got the chance. They just made him want to scream. He knew that he could scream, but no one would hear him.

"Yeah, they probably would," Marcus muttered.

Damon looked at his friend. Marcus had been acting quite strangely for a while. He was not sure if something was bothering or if he was just run down. He knew that Marcus had a busy schedule. He was a full time student at university and played Quidditch full time. He also still socialized with his friends and still managed to disappear for hours at a time. He probably just needed a good night's sleep or he just needed to fuss up. There was something going on. Damon just was not sure what that something was.

Marcus looked at his friend. Damon seemed to be thinking about something. He did not ask what that something was. He knew that Damon knew that there was something going on, but would not ask. That was another thing that Marcus liked about Damon. He did not ask questions if the person was not going to tell anything. It was nice to have a friend like that.

There was something going on with both of them. Neither one would tell the other and the other would not ask. It was a mutual friendship. If one wanted to talk, then the other would listen. They were not caged nor did they want to scream. They just had each other to go to whenever they needed to relax or just to have someone there.

"So, are we on for this weekend?" Damon asked.

Marcus sucked in air. It was the last free weekend he would have before weekend games started. The team had done its' celebrating last weekend and he was proud of himself. He did not have one drink. That was mostly because he had an Order meeting and did not think it would be a good idea to show up drunk or hung-over. He did not have anything this weekend. "What the heck," Marcus said.

Damon nodded. "You are buying, by the way," he said. "I am out of gold until next week." Damon was also a student and had recently bought textbooks. His family was wealthy, but Damon himself was not. He did not had access to his trust fund until he turned twenty-one.

Marcus did not have his trust fund either, but had a high paying job. "I think you just set me up."

"Maybe," Damon mused.

Marcus did not know what to say. He did not mind buying. He just would not had thought that Damon would had been the one to say so. Damon was quite by nature and did not usually tell people what to do. He wondered if people truly did change and found their voice.