Ah…. Do you remember that I said I would update this weekend? Yes? Well, forget it! I'm updating now!

This chapter is a rather short one(even for me), so I thought it would be unfair to give this to you for a weekend. So, here you go!

Tiarwen: You want to know? Really? Okay: 36! Because I found out that 36 is the ultimate answer for EVERY question! (especially if you answer every question with 36 and drive your friends crazy with it:D)

Evilevergreen: oh, yes, he definitely knows where Angelina is living! (ah, all the possibilities of what could happen…) Oh, Angelina is quite fine in her flat, although I think, once her bodyguard appears, she might want to leave it. :D

angelface04: oh, I'm sure it was a funny situation when Angelina found out that Oliver's a good cook, but I just can't remember how it happened… As for Marcus, just scroll down, this chapter is just for him.

TriGemini: About Angelina realising the danger she is in…well, let's just say Angelina is a very stubborn girl!

jj: I'm glad you like it.

Chapter 3

Bad News

„And so, in the name of the people I sentence you, Ares Flint, to death through the dementor's kiss!" the voice of the judge had echoed through the room. Several murmurs could be heard among the audience of the trial. Ares Flint left the courtroom with his head held high, two aurors accompanying him to Azkaban.

This had been the last time Marcus had seen his father. After the trial against the death eaters three years ago his father had only been alive for another week before the sentence had been fulfilled.

Three years ago Saint Potter had saved the world from the evil himself, also known as Voldemort. There were no death eaters left now. They had either died in the final battle of had been sentenced to death like his father had.

His father! Marcus scoffed. The bastard hadn't done anything good to him at all! His mother had died when he had been no older than four, and his father had brought one whore after the other back to his home.

Every night he had heard him, his laugh when he had been drinking too much. His moans when he had been 'having fun' one of those whores. Giving them jewels that had belonged to his mother.

The manor that had been in the possession of the Flints for several hundred years had become dirtier and dirtier with every passing year. That is, until three years ago.

Once he had inherited everything, this had been the first thing Marcus had taken care of: throwing everything out that held any memory of his father. This also included all the bottles of vodka and rum. He only kept the old wines and whiskeys. He was drinking alcohol some times himself after all. But nothing of the cheap stuff his father had drunk and killed his brain with.

Some time during puberty, Marcus had looked at his father, sitting in the dining room at the table in his dressing gown halfway open, his hair uncombed, his beard spreading wildly, his breath stinking of vodka and rum and he didn't know what else. Marcus had looked at his father and in this moment he had decided something that had probably saved his life: that he would NEVER become like his father!

He had not become a death eater after school. Had left the country instead, journeying around the world, working here and there, just not going back to England. Not going back to his father!

Not until he had read about the trial in a Japanese newspaper three years ago. And so, Marcus Flint had returned at the age of 21 to England. Had sat in the courtroom and stared silently into the eyes of his father, into eyes, that had the same green colour that his own had and heard his death being decided.

But even after his death his father wasn't leaving him alone! Everywhere he went, people started whispering behind their hands. 'There he is. The son of a death eater.' 'Probably a death eater himself. Look closely on his arm.'

The ministry had offered him to become an auror. To 'rehabilitate' children of former death eaters. Most of them had declined. But Marcus had actually accepted. He had nothing better to do that time anyway.

And it would have driven his father mad had he still been alive. That was most of the time the only thing that led Marcus to do what he did. What would his father absolutely hate? What would drive him crazy?

That had also been the reason why he had failed his NEWTs at first. Because his father had wanted him to pass them amongst the best of his year. So Marcus had made mistakes during the exams that wouldn't even Crabbe or Goyle have made in their first year.

But all this was now long ago. His father was dead. And Marcus had still to try to prove himself. That he was NOT like his father had been.

Right now he was on the way to Giles Lawrence. He had received an urgent owl from his boss, telling him that he should come to the Ministry immediately because Giles had a new job for him. But he hadn't told him what kind of job it was.

He knocked on Giles's door and waited for the deep voice of his boss to call him in before he opened the door. He walked into the room and found Giles sitting behind his desk, buried in several piles of papers.

"Ah, Marcus, sit down." Giles pointed at the chair in front of his desk. Marcus sat down on the chair and waited for Giles to finish scribbling something onto one of the papers. When he was finished he leaned back in his chair and looked at Marcus.

"Well, I've got a job for you." Giles started.

"Guessed as much." Marcus replied with raised eyebrows. Giles scowled at him and shook his head.

"What do you know about stalking?" Marcus frowned.

"Some maniac following somebody else around. Not taking no for an answer. Trying to get some personal stuff from the other person. Trying to get the person themselves…" Giles nodded and waited whether or not Marcus would say something else. When he didn't he continued himself.

"It seems that we have exactly this case right now. A young woman…" he looked at one of the papers. "21 years old. Professional Quidditch player. Got some personal stuff stolen during the last two years. And today she received this." He took a bunch of red roses from behind the desk and gave it to Marcus.

Marcus looked at the flowers and back at Giles, an asking expression on his face.

"Read the card." Giles told him and Marcus did so. His eyebrows rose while he did so.

"Seems to be a real nice guy." He said when he handed the flowers back to Giles.

"You will go to her immediately, stay with her for the next time, and make sure no one comes close to her who shouldn't." Giles told Marcus. 'Great' Marcus thought, 'Now I'm going to play bodyguard for some little princess'. Giles looked around some more in his papers and wrote something onto a smaller piece of paper.

"Here is her address. Right now a friend of her is staying with her, but you should really hurry now." He gave Marcus the piece of paper and went already back to his paper work.

Marcus arose from his chair and went to the door. He looked down bored at the piece of paper, wondering where this woman lived and what her name was 'probably something original like 'Pansy'' he thought sarcastically but once he read the name on the paper his eyes widened. He turned back around to Giles and shut the door close.

"No bloody way!"

I know, it's very short, but I didn't want to include anything else but Marcus in this chapter, and there just didn't seemed to be more to write about him right now.

Ah, as you can see Marcus can't wait to meet Angelina. :D I wonder how she'll react once she finds out about Marcus being the one to protect her…. Oh, right, I'm the one who has to write it… uh, yes, well, I'm off writing then…