Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
Chapter warning: none
Cheated and lied, broken so bad
You made a vow, never get mad
You play the game, though it's unfair
They're all the same, who can compare?
First you lose trust, then you get worried
Marcus Flint stared at the new Cleansweep Seven in the display of the quidditch store. "We must keep on moving, Marcus. Julius and Brutus need the rest of their Hogwarts supplies," he heard his mother call.
Marcus sighed and moved on from the quidditch display. His older brothers always meant more than he did. Julius and Brutus were getting measured for new robes when Marcus entered Madam Malkin's. Julius was a sixth year Slytherin while Brutus was a third year Slytherin. Marcus would start Hogwarts the following year.
"Does little Marcus want a big boy broom?" Brutus cooed.
"Shut up. You aren't that much older than me," Marcus growled.
Portia Flint slapped her youngest son upside the head. "Quiet, Marcus. Have respect for your brothers."
"Someday you'll ride a boom. Perhaps when you grow a foot and your face straightens out," Julius jeered.
Marcus went to make a retort but could feel his mother's hardened gaze fall on him. It wasn't his fault that he was still short and his teeth were screwed up. He blamed Julius and Brutus for his teeth. They were the ones who sent a bludger into his face when he was four years old. Besides, Julius and Brutus weren't very tall either.
Suddenly, Julius screeched. "My bad, Mr. Flint. You must've moved as I was trying to pin this. Do stay still," Madame Malkin said. Marcus quietly chuckled as the older witch glanced over at him and smiled. She had done it on purpose.
Marcus saw his mother glower at the witch. "Marcus, go to Flourish and Blotts and get your brothers' books," She handed him a list and a sack of sickles, knuts, and galleons. "If you have some left, then buy yourself a book. I do expect some left over."
Marcus nodded and quickly snatched the sack. He would do anything to get out of there. He knew his mother never loved him like she did Julius, the heir of the Flint house, and Brutus, the boy who could do and be anything. Marcus may be the baby but he was unplanned and the ruin of her body.
He entered the bookshop and headed straight for the textbook section. This wasn't the first year his mother made him pick up his brother's textbooks. "That time of the year, Marcus?" Marcus looked up and saw Seshat Flourish standing there. "Need some help?"
Marcus nodded and handed Seshat the list. She flicked her wand and began summoning various books. Marcus caught whatever books did not fly over to the counter. Once done, Seshat noticed none of the books had hit the ground. "How has quidditch practice gone? With catching skills like that I bet you'll be a chaser or keeper, in more ways than one."
Marcus laughed at the older woman's joke. "It's going alright. Dad seems proud of me. Julius and Brutus aren't good at quidditch. That's probably why he likes me."
Seshat shook her head. "Apollo says he is very invested in your well being. He cares for you, Marcus."
"Your son may be a good little league quidditch coach but he's full of it. I mean nothing to the Flint name," Marcus said matter-of-factly. "Is there anything left over?"
Seshat counted the total against the sack of coins Marcus had put on the counter. "10 sickles and 5 knuts are left. A new shipment of quidditch books came in this morning. I had Apollo put them out before he left this morning."
Marcus nodded and headed towards the section he was very familiar with. His eyes immediately landed on book with the detailed histories of quidditch teams of Europe. It was 10 sickles and 4 knuts. Hopefully a knut was enough change to please his mother. He knew it wouldn't be.
Seshat smiled at his choice of literature. "I knew you would pick that book. Apollo wondered if I would see you sometime because he left something for me to give you this morning. Let me get it," Seshat went to back room and came back moments later with a rough copy of Quidditch Through the Ages.
"It was nice of Apollo to think of me, but I already own a copy of this," Marcus said.
"I figured you did, as did Apollo. He told told me to tell you it is a special copy signed by Kennilworthy Whisp and has all of Apollo's handwritten notes and game plans in it," Marcus's face lit up. "He apologizes for it being so rough but it is, of course, his favorite book. He didn't want to give it to you after the last game Saturday because he has nothing for the other players. He figured you would enjoy it more than he can now where he is going."
Marcus frowned. "Where's Apollo going?"
"He went to go sign a contract with the Braga Broomfleet in Portugal today. He starts training Monday," Seshat said proudly.
"That's awesome!" Marcus said excitedly. He couldn't be more proud of his mentor.
"Marcus!" he heard his mother screech.
"I'll have Eleos deliver the books to your home. Eleos!" The residential house-elf of Flourish and Blotts appeared. "Please take these books to the Flint residence." Eleos nodded and disappeared with the stack of books, except for Marcus's two quidditch books. Seshat shrunk the two books down. "They'll go back to normal size when you open them. Make sure not to fool around with them in your pocket. It would be bad if you suddenly had two full size books in your pockets."
Marcus shoved the books in his pocket and grabbed the sack of coins. He noticed she had taken none out. "What about the book I bought?"
"It will be okay. You'll be safer this way," Seshat said. "Just be a good boy, Marcus. You can do great things if you stick to being Marcus Flint, the real you."
Marcus smiled. "Thank you, Seshat."
He turned and left the store. He ran directly into his mother. "Why didn't you come the first time I called your name, Marcus?"
"I'm sorry, mother. I was finishing the transaction and having the books sent home," Marcus handed his mother the change. "10 sickles and 5 knuts are left."
His mother nodded. "Let's get to the floo. Cicero should have dinner ready and your father should be home."
Cassius Flint was home and Cicero did have dinner ready when the quartet arrived. "How has your day been dear family?" Cassius asked when the whole family was seated at the table for dinner.
"Wonderful, darling," Portia declared. Marcus snorted but quickly quieted down in order to not feel his mother's wrath. "Julius and Brutus are all set for Hogwarts in two weeks."
"Madam Malkin poked me at our robe fitting!" Julius tattled.
Brutus snorted. "At least you didn't have some pesky toddler trip and have his toad land in your hair. It was absolutely ghastly, father."
"I'm sure. How about you, Marcus?" his father asked. "How was your day?"
"Marcus spent his time at Flourish and Blotts and also staring at the new Sweepclean four," Portia said for her youngest son.
"Cleansweep Seven," both father and son corrected.
She ignored them both. "I talked to my brother this morning, darling."
Marcus noticed his father roll his eyes. "Let me guess, Thorfinn tried to get you to believe you-know-who is going to come back and we should join his side? Or that he once again needs protection? Honestly Portia, can't he take care of himself? He's lucky that he escaped Azkaban years ago."
"I think I shall retire for the night," she said in a huff as a reply. Snide comments about her brother were not tolerated, even from her husband. She only acknowledged Julius and Brutus upon leaving. The two older boys soon followed, always choosing to follow their mother instead of their father.
Marcus was now alone with his father. "How was today really?"
Marcus shrugged. "I admired the new Cleansweep in the display case before going to Flourish and Blotts to get Julius and Brutus's textbooks. Eleos should've delivered them."
"He did."
"Did you get home early?"
Cassius nodded. "Finished up work early. I had Casca take the books to your brother's rooms. I noticed nothing was for you."
Marcus reached into his pocket and opened to two books on the table. "I got this book about the history of the European quidditch teams. Seshat let me have it for free. I'm going to send her the money tomorrow to pay for it. Did you know that Apollo signed with the Braga Broomfleet today? This is his copy of QTtA. He left it for me. It has all of his notes and game plans and is signed by Kennilworthy Whisp."
"Why did Seshat let you take the book without paying?"
"Portia wanted change, and if I paid for the book, the only change would be a single knut. She thought it would be safer this way," Marcus admitted.
"She's your mother, Marcus."
"She doesn't act like it," Marcus protested. "She doesn't love me. She is no mother to me. I am nothing to this family."
Cassius Flint shook his head. "You are my son. It will be you, Marcus, who will keep the Flint name proud. Julius and Brutus are all Rowle. The only Flint thing about them is their last name. You are a true Flint." Marcus smiled and did the rare thing of hugging his father. "Keep faith in yourself, Marcus. Don't let Julius, Brutus, and your mother ruin who you are."
Adrian Pucey couldn't harm a fly. Both of his parents and anyone else who knew the Pucey family were aware of it. "You need to toughen the boy up, Eli. He's weak. Puceys are not weak," Adrian's grandfather said for millionth time at dinner one night. Adrian heard this come from his grandfather at least once a day. "He's going to be a Hufflepuff the way he's going."
"Corin's sister was Hufflepuff. There is nothing wrong with the house," his father would reply like always.
"Bah! Back in my day, there wasn't any of this showing emotion to anyone, family even—"
"—Oh I know, father—" Adrian would hear his father mutter.
"—And people turned out just fine. Emotion is weakness, Hadrian. Quit being so damn nice and perhaps you'll actually succeed in this world and not be the disgrace you are on the track of being."
"It's Adrian. I'm not named Hadrian, and I don't like to be called that," Adrian snapped. He pushed his chair out. "I'm going to Terence's house."
Adrian stomped off. "Are you going to let your kid sass you and disrespect me, Eli?" He heard his grandfather say. "And you are going to let him go hang out with that poof next door?"
"Enough father!" Eli Pucey barked. "One more snide and uncalled for remark and I'm going to have you committed."
"That might be better than here."
Adrian knocked on the door of the Higgs residence. Evelin Higgs opened the door. "Hello Adrian. Come in dear. How are you?"
"I'm fine, Mrs. Higgs. Grandfather is giving me a hard time again. Father threatened to have him committed again," Adrian chuckled.
"Have you had dinner?" Adrian nodded. "Okay. Terence is up in his room."
Adrian thanked Mrs. Higgs and ran up the stairs towards Terence's room. The Higgs weren't rich. They had a small two story house next the Pucey's nicer looking one. Terence was the only child of Evelin and Edwin Higgs just as Adrian was the only child to Eli and Corin Pucey. Terence was a few years older than Adrian and about to start his first year at Hogwarts.
Terence was working on a set of arithmancy problems when Adrian walked into his room. "You're such a nerd. You do know arithmancy is not a first year subject?"
Terence smirked at his friend. "I know. I happen to enjoy these types of problems."
"I bet you'll be in Ravenclaw."
Terence shrugged. "Your grandfather giving you a hard time again?" Adrian nodded and sat next to him. "I know I shouldn't use this word but your grandfather is a bastard. I hate how he treats you."
"It doesn't matter. I'll be off to Hogwarts in a few years and I won't have to put up with him as much."
Terence slammed his arithmancy book shut. "I don't understand how you can be so nonchalant about this. Stick up for yourself, Adrian. You can't let people walk over you for the rest of your life. You'll just end up a puppet."
Adrian felt his eyes water. "You're supposed to be my friend, Terence," Adrian said, his voice trembling with each word. "You're supposed to be on my side, not his."
"I am on your side!" Terence shouted. "I just want you to be strong enough not to get broken."
Adrian shook his head and ran out of the room. He passed Mrs. Higgs in the hall as he ran out the door heading back home.
His cheeks were wet and warm. Adrian was strong. He wasn't weak and fragile. Adrian was going to prove he wouldn't become a puppet just because he was nicer than others. He sighed. He realized he always had to prove himself to people.
Adrian wiped his tears away and inhaled deeply. A stoic look settled on his face. Adrian Pucey wasn't weak, or maybe he was.