Katie rushed from the room, eager to leave the tense situation and yet rushing to return to it, if only to listen at the door. Perhaps it was wrong to abandon Marcus to her father's lecture alone on their first meeting, but he would survive without her. At least she thought he would. Hoped he would. After all, she couldn't marry someone who was six feet under, and she highly doubted that her father wanted to spend any significant time in Azkaban. As for her older brother, he might be willing to take the risk. It was lucky that he was spending the year abroad, traveling to the most historic and boring locations in the Magical world. Even some without professional quidditch teams.
As the eldest son, he was a perfect child, a sibling that no one could ever hope to live up to, except for one glaring flaw. Her brother may be a genius and the most dutiful son, but, much to the disappointment of her father, he did not play quidditch. This gave Katy hope that despite everything, her father might come to an understanding with the one man she was unwilling to live without.
"This is it," thought Marcus as Katie's father glared upon him. "This is the moment the great Marcus Flint will meet his doom." Katie would have laughed at him, she did not believe that her father would hate him, even after he interrupted their 'embrace' in the study. The man had the look of a manic killer barely restrain himself, but he did not draw his wand, nor indeed any weapon of any kind.
Instead came the mumbled, "So…um…Marcus was it? Marcus Flint. Chaser for the Falmouth Falcons. Quite reputation within the league, and I don't mean that in a good way. When I played we didn't need so much fouling to win games. Weak players cheat. Weak players use violence instead of talent. Would you call yourself a weak player Marcus? Answer carefully for I already know the answer. Three suspensions for over fouling within one month. Tell me why I should let such a man, a man who has no respect for the courtesy of a sport which he professionally plays in, date my only daughter?"
Marcus did not know how to answer. Anything he said would be wrong. He could not argue with his record, but such things were common in modern quidditch. There were many on the Falcons with worse records than his who were regarded as some of the best players in the league. "Honestly sir, I fail to see…"
"I'm sure failing is something you know a lot about though. You spent one extra year at Hogwarts, am I right? How was it that you managed to not pass even one exam?" Katie's father began his next assault before Marcus could even finish his first reply.
"It's quite simple sir. If one does not attend any exams, then one does not pass them. I had tickets to the American final and the game lasted six days. Exams or no exams I was going to see that match to the end. Believe me when I say those seats did not come cheap. Besides, in that extra year, I was scouted and recruited by every competitive team on this side of Europe. Ultimately I had to choose Falmouth because of the style of play was so similar to my own and their offer was substantial. I can't imagine myself anywhere else." The look on Katie's father's face, while not friendly, told Marcus that the interrogation was over, at least for now. Quidditch seemed to be the only safe subject between them.
"I myself played for the Arrows and later coached there but I learned a lot as the assistant at the Falcons first. They may use brawn instead of brains, but the attitude is more disciplined than many other teams in the league."
"You coached Falmouth? When? I remember following your career extensively as a child." Marcus replied in amazement. From a very young age he had respected Owen Bell as a superb coach, every one of his teams had winning seasons and they had won several championships in a row. He had been named the coach of the British World Cup team within two years of his coaching debut. Marcus had dreamed of playing under him, but it seemed unlikely now that he was technically retired.
Before Owen could answer, Katie opened the door and rushed to his side. Ready to put herself between them if need be. A few seconds later her mother entered the room and announced that dinner was ready. Katie grabbed his arm and began to lead him, whispering all the way.
"What happened? What did he ask you?" he could tell that she was worried, but the smile he gave in return seemed to lessen her fears. Meanwhile Eleanor Bell questioned her husband, careful to not be overheard.
"Did you find out anything? How they met? Are they serious? Tell me everything."
"Would it scare you if I said that he reminds me of myself? He lives and breathes quidditch, its no wonder that Katie is so infatuated with him."
"You didn't find out anything else. Stupid Man! You were supposed to get all the details by force if need be. You know she'll never tell us herself. You let yourself get distracted." She resisted the urge to smack her husband upside the head. Why was it that everyone is this bloody family had quidditch on the brain twenty four/ seven?