Now I'm glad that I let the dinner happen in a different chapter, since these chapters together would've been about 8k words and I'm trying this new thing where I don't make chapters too long. Though now I've gotta change up a bit of my planning, since the story is already looking as though it's gonna be about seventy chapters. What fun, though I am considering splitting it into two parts.


Manners be Damned


Dealing with a drunk Marcus Flint was the last thing that Ursa had wanted to deal with. Ursa had never really dealt with a drunk person before, so she was at a bit of a loss as to what she was supposed to do. First things first, Ursa knew that she had to get Marcus somewhere inside without being caught by her parents. There had been a brief moment when her mother caught them, though she barely got a glimpse of Marcus in his drunken state. Before she got to her room though, Ursa was able to make a request to her house elf to retrieve a hangover potion.

"If you throw up anywhere in my room, your over-bearing parents will be the least of your worries," Ursa threatened.

"Yeah, yeah," Marcus growled. "Just give me a damn hangover potion."

"It's on it's way," Ursa replied. "So long as you are here in my room, you're not going to be an ass so put your patient pants on for once and just sit down."

"What's got your nickers in a twist?" Marcus muttered.

Ursa rolled her eyes, "Gee, I don't know. Maybe the fact that this dinner between our parents is really important to me and that you making a drunk ass out of yourself could ruin everything. Why did you have to go and get yourself drunk?"

"Cause my stinking parents were being asses," Marcus drawled.

"You're going to have to give me a little more to work with than that," Ursa grumbled.

"Fine. My parents kept on going on about how I need to start contemplating my future and getting a proper career and finding a nice respectable pureblood wife," Marcus spat, though his words came out more like slurs considering his drunken state. "They're just so displeased with how disappointing their only bloody 'heirs' turned out to be. They want me to forget about Quidditch and find a nice wife to settle down with. I don't want a wife. Just wanna play Quidditch forever but they don't care about what I want. They never do. Fucking parents."

Ursa sighed, "While I understand your frustration, you can't just act out like this whenever you get mad with your parents. It's not healthy."

"Whatever. It helps, you know. When I drink I forget about their annoying asses so I'm good with it, you know? Have I mentioned how much I love muggle liquor too? Way better than our lazy alcohol," Marcus remarked.

"You mentioned that," Ursa murmured.

"But, uh… Being pissed at my parents also kinda made me realise something else in my drunken state," Marcus said.

"What?" Ursa wondered.

"I don't want a wife, at all," Marcus admitted. "Those mother fuckers have completely turned me off the idea of marriage altogether. I don't want to end up like my parents."

"Well, maybe you won't be so against the idea of marriage if you find the right person," Ursa suggested.

"Don't you start with that, Malfoy," Marcus grumbled. "Where is the body potion? I've got a splitting headache over here!"

"And who's fault is that?" Ursa remarked.

"Mine," Marcus muttered.

"Ah, glad to see you're admitting it," Ursa smirked.

It was then that Ursa's house-elf Tinkle chose that moment to appear with Ursa's request. Both her and Draco had their own house elves, though they technically belonged to Lucius.

"Miss Tinkle brought Miss Malfoy what she asked for," Tinkle proclaimed.

"Thank you, Tinkle," Ursa smiled at the elf as she took the potion before tossing it to Marcus. "Here. Drink up."

Marcus took a sip from the bottle before he made an uncomfortable face, "This isn't a fucking hangover potion."

"It's not?" Ursa narrowed her eyes before turning to her elf. "Tinkle, just what did you get from there?"

"Miss Tinkle is so sorry for failing you, Master Ursa. She thought that she had grabbed the correct vial, but there were many vials in the potions lab so she guessed which one it was," Tinkle apologised, though Ursa could sense that her elf was about to burst into hysterics.

"It's alright, Tinkle. You didn't know," Ursa tried reassuring the elf, since she always felt uncomfortable whenever they went into their dramatics. "What potion did you get him, anyways?"

"I used to sleep in the same room as my sister until she started Hogwarts because I was too much of a wimp to sleep on my own," Marcus blurted out, immediately slapping his hand over his mouth once he said it.

"It would appear as though Tinkle got Master's guest a truth serum potion instead," Tinkle stated.

"Don't get any fucking ideas, Malfoy," Marcus growled.

"Don't worry, I won't take advantage of your serum-induced state," Ursa rolled her eyes. "Tinkle, how long will that last for?"

"It is difficult to predict. Tinkle suggests an hour?" Tinkle replied.

"Just try your best to refrain from bursting out embarrassing facts about yourself that I probably don't want to know," Ursa remarked.

"My first fuck was Claudia Nott during the Christmas break in Fifth Year," Marcus confessed, swearing after he did.

Ursa grimaced, "Facts like that."

"Cast a fucking Silencio on me," Marcus demanded.

"I'm underage, you idiot. I've still got the Trace and I'm not getting expelled for you," Ursa pointed out. "Use your own wand."

"I didn't bring it cause I was too pissed to get it," Marcus muttered.

"Well, now you've learned the lesson to always have your wand with you," Ursa said.

"The first time I tried riding a broom when I was nine, I broke my arm. I didn't really care for Quidditch either, but I found that I was good at it so I just went with it," Marcus admitted.

"That's… actually not that surprising," Ursa commented, since she always got the feeling that Marcus was only so focused on Quidditch because it was his only talent.

Marcus was biting his lip, as if he was trying to keep himself from saying something potentially problematic. Then, it came out.

"You're fucking right about Wood. I mean, he's still fucking infuriating and the bane of my existence with that damn smirk of his. I just hate him cause I'm supposed to. He's a fucking Gryffindor for fucks sake! But sometimes, I get the most excruciating urge to just shove him into a closet and suck him dry," Marcus blurted out. "FUCKING HELL!"

"Okay, I really did not need to know that last bit," Ursa shuddered. "But I'm glad to hear that you're finally admitting what I already knew."

"Nobody likes a know-it-all!" Marcus spat.

"I'll go get something to keep your mouth shut until your parents arrive."

~*•°•*~

The aftermath of Marcus' truth-serum induced state was certainly a spectacle for Ursa to watch. She had managed to get him a proper hangover potion, which calmed him down a bit before she taped his mouth shut to keep him from spilling any other perverted thoughts. Of course, she made a mental note to bring up his confession about Oliver later, but Ursa was smart enough to know that now as not the time for Marcus to be divulging his feelings to her.

Two hours later, Marcus' parents finally arrived and Ursa had done her best to make Marcus look presentable for the evening. For the most part, his hangover had settled down but he was still in a dazed state, so Ursa was just hoping that he'd be able to keep it together for the night. She needed him to, since Buckbeak's life was hinging on this dinner being a success.

"Ursa, this is Edmund and Laverne Flint," Lucius introduced them to the two parents.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Ursa replied with the pureblood manners that she had been raised with.

"Thank you for having us over, Lucius," Edmund stated as the families took their seats and the meal began.

"But of course. We have put off a meeting between our families long enough," Lucius said.

"Let's cut to the chase, Lucius," Laverne snapped. "What makes you think that your daughter is good enough for my son?"

"What makes you think that your son is good enough for my daughter?" Narcissa spoke up, and an overwhelming sense of pride came over Ursa.

Her mother was defending her. Granted, Ursa only knew that it was to defend their family's honour, but still. This was a rare moment, and Ursa was gonna take it for what it was.

"Forgive me for having reservations about my only son marrying a girl who has given him a hard time," Laverne quipped.

"Mother, that incident was both of our faults," Marcus grumbled.

"Do not speak unless you are spoken to, son," Laverne snarled. Ursa was already beginning to see how unpleasant this woman was. Just the sight of her was unappealing, and her words weren't doing anything to make Ursa think otherwise.

"Easy there, Lav. You cannot deny that their daughter is a fine young lady," Edmund commented, glancing at Ursa. "Top of your class, aren't you?"

"Um, yes, sir. I am," Ursa replied.

"Swot," she could hear Laverne Flint muttering under her breath.

Narcissa cleared her throat, "So, Marcus. What are your current feelings towards my daughter? From what I understand, you are no strangers to each other."

"She's alright. We talk sometimes in passing, always has something to say," Marcus replied, though his speech still sounded slurred.

"Speak with clarity, young man. Don't sit slouched and keep your elbows together!" Laverne ordered.

"Bitch," Marcus muttered.

"And Miss Malfoy, how is it that you feel towards my son?" Edmund asked.

Ursa gulped, making sure to avoid Laverne Flints steal glare, "Marcus and I have very clear differences, however when we do speak we are perfectly amicable together."

"Would you seriously contemplate entering a beneficial arrangement with my son?" Edmund questioned.

"If it suited the needs of both our families, I would be open to the idea. However, as I am still a student with one more year left, I would prefer to finish my education before entering a marriage contract and have at least a year after that to prepare for a wedding," Ursa answered.

"What right do you have to think that you can suggest demands in this contract, girl?" Laverne scowled.

"As it is my future, I think I should have every right to dictate how that scenario would work," Ursa quipped.

"Why hold off on a wedding, though? It's not like you should have any plans to do anything else with your life," Laverne remarked.

"What do you mean?" Narcissa asked.

Laverne scoffed, "Oh, come now, Narcissa. Surely you must understand that it is a woman's duty to serve her husband. I want a woman for my son who would only have commitment to him, and nothing else."

"But what about me having a career?" Ursa wondered, her temper slowly beginning to rise.

"I can't understand why you would need a career. Our families are perfectly wealthy enough for you to not have to work a day in your life, dear. And while Marcus pursues his career, you would do your job as a noble wife by providing an heir and a spare," Laverne replied.

"So, is that what your son is then, a spare?" Ursa remarked, and Laverne's glare hardened.

"Ursa," Lucius hissed.

"Don't use my words against me, girl," Laverne growled.

"Easy there, Lav," Edmund said in an attempt to calm his wife down.

"Don't call me that!" Laverne snapped.

Ursa glanced at Marcus, who seemed to be trying his best not to just let his face fall onto the table. One downside of the hangover potion was feeling incredibly tired, and Marcus was certainly looking it as his eyes glazed backwards. This did not go unnoticed by his parents.

"Marcus! Sit up straight, not like a sloth!" Laverne demanded.

"I'm trying my best," Marcus grumbled.

"Are you alright?" Narcissa asked.

"Just a little tired, that's all," Marcus replied.

"Obviously. You exhaust yourself playing that recklessly dangerous sport. Too much of your time is spent zipping around on a broomstick instead of focusing on your studies like you should be," Laverne said.

"Mother, I told you that I am trying my best to improve my grades this year," Marcus argued.

"You wouldn't need to try if they had your complete dedication. But instead you choose to chase a fruitless dream instead of focusing on your future," Laverne's head glanced towards Ursa. "And what fruitless dream do you aspire to achieve, girl? Become Minister for Magic? Not likely."

Ursa's jaw clenched, "No, actually. I have no desire to work at the Ministry. Instead, I would like to explore ancient studies and alchemy to see what I can create on my own."

Laverne cackled, "Don't make me life, dearie. It's not like you could make your own Philosopher's Stone or anything like that."

"Excuse me, but my daughter is an incredibly gifted witch and I will not stand for you insulting her in our own house where you are merely guests in, Laverne," Narcissa proclaimed.

"Well, then. You should tell your daughter to mind that tone of hers," Laverne huffed.

"Ursa, mind your tone. Need I remind you what's at stake for you?" Lucius said.

"No, father. I know," Ursa muttered.

"Alright then. Say that we do accommodate to your demands, Miss Malfoy. When would you be willing to marry my son?" Laverne inquired.

"You say that like I'm making such an absurd request. Is there so much wrong with me wanting a little bit of freedom before I settle down and marry?" Ursa wondered.

"Of course," Laverne replied instantly. "You seem to have deluded yourself into thinking that you would even have a choice, my dear. From the moment you're born as a pureblood you lose the freedom to decide your fate."

"But what about my Aunt Andromeda? She escaped her so-called decided fate," Ursa remarked, noticing how her mother gazed down upon hearing her sisters name.

"Andromeda Black is a rare case, and a rather big blemish on the Black family tree. What she did was most shameful, and disrespectful. To just get up and marry that mudblood and abandon her family is the greatest act of dishonour," Laverne answered.

"Leave my sister out of this," Narcissa said with very little emotion.

"Don't tell me that you would do the same as your treacherous Aunt and betray your family to marry a muggleborn?" Laverne scowled.

"Of course she wouldn't," Lucius spoke up. "My daughter knows where her loyalty lies and it is with her family. She would not dare to soil our family tree with filth."

"You should hope so, Lucius," Laverne commented.

"So, Marcus. What career interests do you have?" Narcissa asked in an attempt to change the subject.

"Would like to do Quidditch, but if not I guess working in the Magical Department of Games and Sports wouldn't be too unbearable," Marcus replied, and Ursa knew that he was just saying that in an attempt to satisfy his parents. It didn't work.

"You must certainly will not!" Laverne exclaimed. "I want you far away from sports. It is of no good to you and will hardly get you anywhere in the Ministry. If you are to bring anything to our family name, you must get a respectable job."

"I thought working at the Ministry was a respectable job?" Marcus slurred.

"Calm now, you two. Let's not have this here," Edmund said.

"Stay out of this, Edmund," Laverne snapped. "I want you as far away from sports as possible. Think of your future for once, you insolent child! What if you have an accident and can never do proper work again?"

"Well, like you said, both of our families have enough money so that we wouldn't have to work at all," Marcus remarked.

"Don't. Use. My. Words. Against. Me!" Laverne snarled. "You will not disrespect me like this, young man."

"Would you quit your nagging, for fucks sake," Marcus grumbled. He seemed to be forgetting that this dinner was taking place in front of an audience, and Ursa could practically see Laverne's veins popping with rage.

Funnily enough, her own mother appeared to be oddly amused about this whole affair while her father was beginning to look redder by the minute.

"How dare you! Narcissa, Lucius, I must apologise for my sons repentant behaviour. I'm sure you must know what it is like to have a disappointing heir," Laverne said.

That was it for Ursa. Any resolve that she had been holding onto had broken in that moment and she just completely forgot about what was really important to her.

"Listen up, lady," Ursa seethed as she stood up, kicking her chair backwards. "I don't know what right you think you have to speak to your son that way, but you certainly have no right to speak to me that way in my own house."

"How dare you!" Laverne exclaimed. "This isn't even your house. It's your parents house that you won't even get because you're not the rightful heir like your brother is. You will get nothing and it would serve you right for being a blood-traitor disgrace!"

"Well, good! Because I don't want anything! I don't want charity or money handed to me. I want to make my own name and earn my own living," Ursa proclaimed.

"Calm yourself, young lady!" Lucius ordered.

Laverne snorted, "You are surely dreaming with that one, my dear. Nobody would ever take you seriously no matter how much of a swot you might be or what your family name is."

"Stop calling me 'my dear!' I am not your dear!" Ursa snapped.

"Have you ever considered taking anger management classes, my dear?" Laverne asked, putting an obvious emphasis on her last two words.

"You know, growing up as a pureblood we're supposed to be prepared for this kind of shite. Nothing can prepare you for putting up with an overbearing and disrespectful pureblood wife who doesn't seem to know her own place," Ursa argued.

"How dare you let your brat speak to me that way! Me, Laverne Flint from the House of Runcorn! I'll have you know that my cousin Albert could ruin you in the Ministry so that you would never be able to seek employment there!" Laverne threatened.

Ursa rolled her eyes, "Didn't I make myself clear? I don't want a miserable Ministry job."

"Just leave her alone, you bitch. It's about time someone told you where to shove it," Marcus remarked.

If she could, Laverne Flint would've been breathing steam. "This is an outrage! Is it your life's goal to make your poor mother miserable? It's bad enough that your sister couldn't have a respectable marriage. Now you're doing your best to blemish our family name without even marrying a mudblood!"

"Now, you better quiet down if you know what's good for you, Laverne, because this is getting out of hand!" Lucius exclaimed.

"Newsflash, mother, I don't even want to get married thanks to your nagging efforts!" Marcus declared, causing his mother to let out a pained screech.

Laverne turned to Ursa, hatred burning on her face, "You! You did this, didn't you! You and your little chats with my son tarnished his mind! You corrupted him!"

"Oh, please. Like I would even want to marry your son," Ursa drawled. "No offence, but he's an idiot!"

"How dare you speak about my son like that!" Laverne shrieked.

Ursa narrowed her eyes, "So it's only okay for you to?"

"I mean, she's got a point, mother," Marcus snorted.

"Don't let her insult you! Show some dignity for Merlins sake! Haven't you disappointed me enough?" Laverne wailed.

"Apparently not," Marcus remarked, causing his mother to let out another wild shriek.

"As fun as it would be to argue with you and watch you suffer a mental breakdown, I would really rather not put up with your unbearable antics anymore and I'm sure that your son doesn't want to either so we'll be going now," Ursa declared.

Without looking back, Ursa yanked Marcus up from his seat and dragged him out the family dining room. As much as Ursa would've loved to have been a fly on the wall for the aftermath of that disaster, she would much rather be as far away from the Manor as possible right now. So, Ursa dragged Marcus off the grounds with every intention of using him as a way to get away from here.

"Are you up for apparating?" Ursa asked.

"I guess," he grumbled. "That was pretty awesome, though. What you said to my mother. Merlin knows I've been wanting to say that to her for nineteen years."

"Technically, you haven't been able to talk for every moment of your nineteen years."

"Oh, can it with your logic," Marcus snapped. "What destination do you have in mind?"

Ursa paused for a moment, not really knowing where to go. Her first instinct was to go to Tessa's house, but then Tessa would just bombard her with questions about her association with Marcus and that really wasn't something that she wanted to deal with right now.

But then, Ursa suddenly remembered an address that she had been given before, but had never actually been to. She'd always wanted to visit, but actually getting there was the difficult part. Now Ursa had the perfect mode of transportation, and she didn't even give her Trace a moment of thought.

So, she told Marcus where to go and he whisked them off in an instant. As they apparated, Ursa felt her stomach drop, and it wasn't because of the disturbing sensation that came with apparating. It was because she suddenly remembered something very important, and the whole purpose of this dreadful night.

Buckbeak.

Oh, Merlin.


Well, it looks like Ursa is taking Marcus on a bit of a trip. Any guesses where? ;) And she also got him to admit his not-so-secret feelings for Wood, thanks to the truth serum. Sorry, Marcus/Ursa shippers but that ship has sailed, not that it even stood a chance, since I never had any intention to make something beyond friendship happen with them. Fun fact: the Albert that I mentioned was Albert Runcorn, the guy who Harry impersonated in the Deathly Hallows. Runcorn is said to be a pureblood, so I had Marcus' mother come from his family in my elaborate Flint family tree.

Up next: Marcus makes an unlikely friend, Draco is a little shit, Ursa is dismayed and paranoid.