Marcus dressed in one of his finest made robes for dinner, his own mind going over what he had learned about his soon to be bride, but the information did not deter him, if anything it proved him right, Harry Potter would make him the perfect bride. Once down in the common room he looked at those present and smirked.
"This is a joke, right?" Draco Malfoy stated with a scandalized look on his pale face and Marcus turned to him with a cold look. "You can't be serious about marrying Potter! He's a mud-blood loving Gryffindor!" He called out and the room went silent as the spectators looked from Draco to Marcus.
"You would do well not to insult my bride Malfoy." Markus snarled as his eyes went dark with barely suppressed anger. "His friends and he will be dinning with us and any who insult them will be dealt with." His eyes took in all of those in the room, a warning in his eyes and voice. "Greengrass, you will be seated on my right tonight. Zabini you will sit on my left. My bride and his entourage will be sitting across from us." Not waiting for a response, he swept from the room, Blaise Zabini and Daphne Greengrass following close behind.
Five minutes after dinner begun Marcus felt his anger bellowing in his stomach, his bride had yet to show, and Marcus was growing furious at being stood up by his bride in front of his house. Ten minutes in and the whispers began just as the trio walked into the Great Hall, unaware of the trouble they had already began to cause. They stopped to say something to Longbottom and Marcus's eyes burned with fury as his little bride placed a dainty hand on the boy's shoulder as he spoke with a look that was far to intimate.
"Looks like Potter has his eyes set on Longbottom." Draco sneered with a haughty expression. Marcus's eyes flashed as he gave the Malfoy heir a cold look before turning back to look at his bride who gave a small smile to the other boy before walking away with his friends trailing behind.
Harry slipped into the seat across from Markus, Granger on his right and Weasley on his left. "Sorry were late, we had something to take care of before dinner." Hermione stated but Markus did not dignify her excuse with an answer, his eyes laying only on his soon to be bride.
Harry was dressed in a midnight blue robe; his inky black hair just barely brushed his shoulders, and his killing curse green eyes were hidden beneath long lashes giving him an ethereal beauty.
"Daphne, Blaise, Flint." Harry greeted and Marcus narrowed his eyes. If he didn't know better, he would think his little bride was purposely trying to get a rise out of him.
"Potter, Granger, Weasley." Daphne greeted with an incline of her head. Blaise mumbled the same greeting, his eyes locked on the trio sitting across from them.
"Harry," Markus greeted, ignoring the other two. "It is inappropriate to show up late when ones soon to be husband requires their presence." He stated coolly.
"As I have already informed Daphne, Flint, we need time, and my world does not revolve around you, we had a pressing issue within our own house to deal with and it could not wait." Harry stated evenly, not at all intimidated by the older boy.
"Eat," Markus ordered as he prepared his own plate, his eyes glued to the trio. He inwardly grimaced at the thought of dinning with Weasley. He knew that the red head had no manners to speak of.
He watched as the three made their plates and much to his surprise the red head did not shovel his food like a barbarian, but rather ate at a sedated pace with manners he had never shown before.
"And here I was under the impression you could only eat like a cow Weasel!" Draco called with an uproarious laughter. Instead of retorting with his mouth full like he was known to do Weasley swallowed, whipped his mouth with his napkin and turned to the blond.
"And here I was under the impression your insults couldn't get any lamer, seems we were both wrong Malfoy." Ron stated before turning back to look at Marcus.
"Was there a particular reason you asked for us to come to dinner Flint, or did you simply wish to give your house a chance to use lame brained insults that a toddler could top?" Harry asked with a smirk playing on the edge of his lips.
Marcus paused, taking a sip of his pumpkin juice before responding. "Greengrass has informed me of your wish for time, and I am willing to grant you this under several conditions." He stated making Harry blink and he watched as Harry turned to Hermione. He watched as he raised an eyebrow, Hermione's eyes narrowed, her lips pursed. Harry's head tilted before both looked to Ron who raised an eyebrow before inclining his head to an agreement of some kind.
"What might those conditions be?" Harry asked after a moment, his eyes turning back to Markus.
"You will agree to meet with Greengrass and Zabini to learn about our customs and traditions for one hour three days a week, your friends may join you in this venture. You will share dinner with me and attend the Flint Yule Gala as my betrothed." He stated silkily.
"I can agree to the first one, but the other two I can't so easily agree to. There are times when I have more pressing issues to deal with than eating dinner and I do have friends in my own house and in the other houses who I enjoy sitting with for dinner. Not to mention agreeing to going to your gala as your betrothed would defeat the purpose of telling you I need more time." Harry stated as he placed his fork down and crossed his arms.
"You will have dinner with me on Monday, Wednesday, Saturday, and Sundays and if you cannot make it, you will tell me beforehand. As to the Gala, you will come as my date; your friends may come as well." Marcus conceded after a moment.
"I will have dinner with you on Mondays Wednesdays and Sundays, if you wish to dine with me on Saturdays you will have to come sit at whatever table I find myself at that night. In exchange you will not bring up betrothal, contract, or marriage until I am sixteen." Harry countered but Marcus shook his head and frowned.
"I can give you until the end of the school year, but I plan to have you as my bride the week after I graduate and if you bring up marriage, the contract or the betrothal the term is voided, and we marry during the yule holidays. In which case your things will be moved to my dormitory, and you will spend the remainder of the year with me in the dungeons." He watched as the three shared another silent conversation.
"If you bring any of them up then you will void the supplementary contract and renounce any claim to me or my line. You will never approach me for any type of relationship and will leave me to wed anybody I choose to." Harry countered.
"If I violate the terms, I will give you until you graduate to find a suitable husband, if you are still unwed by then I will be claiming you in all ways as mine, I am not nearly foolish enough to give up what is mine so completely. That is the best I can offer you." Marcus stated with narrowed eyes.
"Then I will be allowed to talk about the contract and the betrothal to Hermione, Ron, Daphne, and Blaise; without breaking the terms of our agreement.
"And I will be allowed to speak of the contract and betrothal and our upcoming nuptials with Greengrass, Zabini, Montague, and my parents without violating the agreement. I will also concede to allow you to speak about them to those in your house, but I will have the same leeway." Harry nodded after a moment.
"If you will excuse us Flint, I have other places to be tonight." Harry stated after a moment.
"You should get used to using my name Harry, I have every intention of making you scream it during Yule, and you should remember my sweet that you said nothing about alluding to it, and truly I will enjoy the chase." Marcus stated with a dangerous grin on his lips as Harry stood. Harry didn't respond as he left the great hall, Markus's eyes following him.
"You will do everything in your power to convince my bride that marrying me during yule is for the best." He ordered Daphne and Blaise, his eyes dark with a hunger that food could not satisfy. He took a sip from his goblet, as his eyes danced with a predatory gleam that had caught sight of its prey.
He stood and left the great hall; he would not allow his petite bride to get away from him. Not when he was mere months away from claiming him.