Divination

03. September 1993

It was only the third day of his second 7th year at Hogwarts when Snape called him to his office. Apparently it was Snape’s job to make the life of Marcus Flint a living hell. On this note, he made his way down to Snape’s office imagining the worst outcomes possible. The absolute worst that could potentially happen is that Snape takes away his captaincy. He wouldn’t be able to look Wood in the eyes anymore. He didn’t really look anybody in the eyes anymore. It was embarrassing enough to have to repeat his last year but losing his captaincy, the last thing keeping his reputation and authority established?

No way.

Adrian Pucey interrupted his train of thought, “Don’t worry about it, Marcus!” but he will tell you not to worry about everything, even if it’s a completely reasonable thing to worry about. Now look at the boy absolutely losing it about his O.W.L.s. Marcus is almost enticed to tell him not to worry about it. The thought made him grin.

But Marcus kept his eyes plastered to the ground and his feet while walking down the hallway, he knew it couldn’t be that far anymo-

“Mister Flint.” Snape stood outside the door, opening it and gesturing for Marcus to go inside. He didn’t dare to hesitate and only took a deep breath before entering and sitting down in front of his giant desk. The office was dark, like everything in the Slytherin parts of the dungeons, and all the smells of different potions mixed together made it smell rather foul. The stuffy air reminded him of the divination classroom, both giving him a headache.

Marcus wanted to leave again immediately, anything in order to avoid the death glare of Snape. He would much prefer Trelawney’s nonsense and tea now. Snape must have sensed this too.
“I won’t be taking away your position as the quidditch captain, if that’s your concern.”

Thank Merlin.

“I will, however, not accept failure, again. I will not have you drag the name of the entire Slytherin house through the mud, again. That’s why I have decided that you’ll be getting tutoring lessons from the head boy this year.” By Merlin, it really was his job to make his life hell. Snape seemed his usual grumpy self, Marcus on the other hand was getting more and more uncomfortable. At least he gets to keep some kind of dignity but having to go to the head boy for help?

From those little ass crawlers? He didn’t even know who got the position as head boy this year. There were a lot of things Marcus Flint hated but having to ask somebody for help truly was the last thing on that list.
Now it was Snape’s turn to look uncomfortable, “I hate to say this, Mr Flint, but you’ll be tutored by Percy Weasley who was given the position this year.” Snape continued to talk after that but Marcus stopped listening, his brain involuntarily breaking down while looking completely composed. He said something about qualifications and his future and his family but he only started to listen again when Snape mentioned quidditch. “Of course you’ll have to find time for your weekly session in between your normal classes and quidditch practises, so it would be smart to quickly sort things out with Mr Weasley and the other quidditch captains.”

Marcus nodded slightly and just stared at his Professor, “Which means you can leave!”

And with that he ran out of the room.

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09. September 1993

Marcus was laying on his bed staring holes into the ceiling while Terence and Adrian sat on the floor surrounded by books, notes and quills. Terence took it upon himself to help the poor fifth year survive, even though it was only the second Thursday of the year; not even the first full week was over. Adrian groaned, “I feel like we’ve been sitting here for hours!” to which an annoyed Terence only replied, “We have,” before turning back to his Herbology book. The younger Slytherin only huffed at this and turned to Marcus, “So Captain, do we have a schedule yet? If you’re not planning to get a head start on school matters I bet you already planned the entire quidditch season this year.”

Not the entire season but a good chunk of it, “No, we’re meeting later.”

Adrian appeared to expect more from Marcus and continued to smile at him, “Who are you meeting later?” If you didn’t know Adrian well enough it would come across as patronising, as if he were talking to a child who doesn’t understand his left from right. At the beginning Marcus thought this too but Terence told him that Adrian was just trying to make him talk more - to lure him out of his shell, he said. Marcus didn’t speak to him after that for two weeks.

“Davies, Diggory and Wood.”

“Oh! Quidditch captain meeting? Great! Make sure you’ll get the pitch on Thursdays and Saturdays!”
Terence snatched the papers from his hands, “Concentrate mate! I thought you wanted to pass?”

“It’s only the beginning of the year Terence!” “That’s not what you said one minute ago?”

Marcus only had half an hour left before the meeting. He couldn’t handle Higgs and Pucey together anymore and decided to leave early. Normally during the quidditch meetings he would scream at the others until they gave him the pitch when he wanted but something made him reconsider that now. Similar to his walk to Snape’s office he was now overthinking every aspect of that meeting, he didn’t care much for Davies and Diggory but Wood. Oliver Wood would see him, (at least somewhat) listen to him and (most certainly) talk back to him. And who was Oliver Wood’s roommate? Percy goddamn Weasley. The worst part about this is that they were friends, which means Wood will tell him about the meeting like Marcus will tell his friends about it, which means Percy Weasley would immediately know everything he said to Wood, which means he would probably hate him (if he doesn’t already). That is why he was rethinking his strategic attempt to win the most time for the pitch.

He didn’t really care about what Wood thought of him but Wood wasn’t the one he would have to spend two hours a week alone with.

So Marcus made the decision to mostly stay quiet and stick to Adrian’s wish of Thursday and Saturday.

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Percy Weasley heard him running up the stairs before he yelled.

“Percy! Perce! PERCY!”

He sighed as Oliver slammed open the door, “Merlin’s beard, Perce! I got six hours! Six whole hours, every week, mate! We’re going to destroy everybody this year!” Percy was already praying for the Gryffindor team. Oliver continued his rant about literally everything that happened in the last one and a half hour. Surprisingly Percy actually listened even if just half-heartedly. It truly seemed as if Oliver and the team had a good chance of winning the cup this year with all the enthusiastic hand-waving and shouting he was doing. The conversation went one for an entire hour and was mostly one-sided with Percy only sometimes butting in.

"Also Flint's back, but I guess you already knew that being head boy and everything . He was weird though, barely talked. I mean he barely talks anyway but during meetings? Normally he would scream at us. One time he made Cedric cry!"

Now that made Percy look up, "Flint made Cedric Diggory cry? How did he do that? Did he hurt him?"
"No, No, not Cedric, never him, only me. But he yelled at him and that's kinda all it took…"
Percy was well aware of the physical confrontations between Oliver and Flint.

Oliver finished by letting out a deep breath. Both boys looked as they desperately wanted to change the subject, “So… you spoke to Professor Snape and McGonagall yesterday, right? Why?” Originally Percy wanted to avoid this conversation. He knew, or at least suspected how he would react to this whole situation. He wasn’t too happy about the whole thing either.

“I have talked to a lot of professors lately. After all, I’m the head boy now, Oliver.” He tried to deflect it but Oliver wasn’t having any of it.

“Yes, I know, Percy. You know I know and I’m proud of you but you spoke to them separately yesterday?”

I guess there’s no turning back now.

“The Professors spoke to me about my duties as the head boy this year. These duties include helping those students who desperately need help with their academic performance.” He stopped at that hoping Oliver connected the dots himself. He did not.

“So you’re just giving private tutoring lessons for some kids? Why were you so… well, secretive about it?” Oliver seemed genuinely confused and bless him furrowed his brows together like he always did when he tried to understand something Percy said. He tilted his head slightly to the side and frowned, “Oliver, what student, that we know, do you believe desperately needs help in school?”
Percy could see the cocks turning in Oliver’s head until he suddenly jumped up from his own bed and sprinted towards Percy.

“No! No way! You cannot be serious? You don’t mean- Flint? Because he came back? To make sure he doesn’t have to come back next year?”

“Yes, exactly.” The keeper sat down next to Percy and buried his face in his hand. Percy tried to give him some sort of comfort by rubbing his back and shoulders. Oliver looked as if somebody just told him his mother died but he was always a tad bit dramatic. He couldn’t be serious though? Did he think he was some kind of traitor for having to help Flint study?

“Listen Oliver, it’s only two hours and only once a week. At least you don’t have to spend time with him, aye?”

His face was still buried in his hands but Oliver managed to slightly nod, turning towards him he pulled Percy in for a hug.

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11. September 1993

They met on the following Saturday in the library. McGonagall told Weasley and Snape told Marcus. To say it was awkward would be an understatement.

“Alright, Flint. Let’s put away our differences and work together.” It sounded fake but exactly what you expected an upcoming politician to sound like. Every question Weasley asked him felt as if he had written them down and learned by heart.

“How many N.E.W.T.s are you taking?”

“Five.”

“Only five? How many did you take last year?”

Marcus ignored the demeaning tone.

“Seven.”

“What subjects did you drop?”

“Charms and Muggle Studies.”

Marcus didn’t remember a lot from Muggle Studies but he remembered the weird robot toy thing that talked - a bit. Weasley sounded exactly like that, like a robot!

“What subjects are you taking now?”

“Defence against the Dark Arts, Herbology, Care of Magical Creatures and Potions.”

Percy took a deep breath and opened his mouth multiple different times as if he wanted to say something. After an agonisingly quiet minute he finally settled on this, “That’s only four? You said you took five.” The robot was gone and suddenly he became the ginger version of Adrian Pucey. Marcus already wanted to bang his head on the table. He liked Adrian, he really did, but he did get on his last nerve most of the time.

“The last one isn’t important. I just need help with those. Mostly with Herbology and Potions.”
“Alright, then let’s focus on these two.”

“Like… right now?”

“Of course, right now!” Marcus snorted and stood up towering over Weasley sitting across from him. Instead of telling him why he started to pack up the few notes on the table. Now Percy stood up too.

“Wait, where are you going?”

“Practice.”

And with that he ran out of the library.

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Percy was still sitting in the library ten minutes later and didn’t nearly get as much out of Flint as he wanted to. At least now he knows what classes Flint is taking but they still didn’t know when they were going to study those. Instead of pondering too long about it Percy decided to take some notes and figure out the main topics of each subject. It took him almost exactly one hour. He took one look out of the window and saw the sun slowly going down and some students flying outside on the quidditch pitch. Flint said he was going to practise, right. Must be them. Although he only saw three.

Percy loved these sort of moments, all by himself surrounded by hundreds of books and parchment scattered across the table in the almost completely quiet library. Entirely lost in his thoughts staring into the sun while listening to other students shuffling around, turning papers and writing with their quills. He could have fallen asleep right then and there, his eyelids fluttering shut.

“WEASLEY!” A cheerful voice echoed throughout the whole library. Percy jumped and accidentally knocked over his ink, turning the edges of the parchment black. The yell was immediately followed by a loud shushing noise coming from Madam Pince at the entrance. He didn’t have to search for the source of the disturbance since it suddenly stood right in front of him; Adrian Pucey.

Percy took a second to compose himself, clean the mess on the table and adjust his tie, “What do you need, Pucey?” Pucey took the liberty and sat down at the table leaning forward on his elbow and smirking at him.

“Listen, friend. I heard about your little rendez-vous with dear Marcus…” he turned very serious very suddenly, “but I also heard that he ditched you half-way through, sorry about that, he is like that.” Percy wanted to interrupt and say that it wasn’t a rendez-vous nor was he ditched in any way but Pucey held up a finger and continued.

“I don’t want to intervene but I do know that you won’t get far on your own, so… I suggest you meet on Thursday. Marcus doesn’t have classes on Thursday - only practice, quite early too so you can decide the exact time.” The Slytherin had a cat-like grin on his face making Percy lean back in his chair. Percy shortly thought about what he was supposed to say.

“Well… I appreciate the… courtesy. If that is the case then I’ll offer four o’clock.” The grin got somewhat even bigger, “If I may ask? What is so funny about this?” That made the younger boy laugh out loud, “Oh, nothing, friend, just the thought about Marcus studying, I guess.” It wasn’t that Percy didn’t believe Pucey, it did make sense, even to him but it just sounded and looked as if he was lying about literally everything all the time.

“Then it’s settled, Weasley, you’ll meet my dear Marcus every Thursday at four o’clock. It was nice talking to you.”

And with that the Slytherin sashayed out of the library. Percy followed shortly after but turned in the opposite direction at the stairs going up to the Gryffindor common room.

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13. September 1993

He was sitting in the great hall on the following Monday morning when Marcus realised his plan to avoid Weasley and to only recognise him on Thursday afternoon would fail miserably. Apparently it was decided that the Gryffindors and Slytherins have their classes together and as it turns out he shared four out of five of his classes with Weasley and even worse, Wood. Terence and Adrian were next to him, Adrian already packing up to leave again and Terence comparing their timetables.

Although his favourite class was by far Divination, no Weasley and no Wood. Only him and Higgs drinking tea and reading leaves. Thankfully Marcus decided to take double Herbology and Defence Against the Dark Arts with the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs which means he at least gets to sit in a classroom three times without Weasley or Wood.

“You have Herbology twice today? Oh! I get it, you took double right?” He nodded, stuffing himself with toast and eggs.

“So… We’ll see each other today at four, nothing on Tuesday, on Wednesday the entire day except at two, also nothing on Thursday and from eight to three on Friday.” Terence carried on by humming to himself and gave Marcus his schedule back.

Before Adrian actually left he pointed at Marcus, “I talked to Weasley on Saturday-” “You what?!” Marcus snapped but Adrian ignored him, “-great fellow by the way, your little meetings will now be on Thursday at four! I thought I’d tell you.” Terence was smirking.

“And you tell me now?”

“Well… yes.” And suddenly he was gone, missing in the hectic of the great hall in the morning.
“I guess ‘nothing on Thursday' isn't accurate anymore.”

Marcus turned to him and gave him a deathly glare but Terence only laughed and left too.

At least he only had to see the Gryffindors for forty-five minutes today.

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Marcus dreaded his Herbology class at four. He tried to drag the walk down to the green houses as far as possible but sadly he couldn’t really afford being late on his first day. He was debating with himself and trying to come up with reasons to go to class when Higgs bumped into him along the way and practically dragged him there.

“It’s only forty-five minutes. Pull yourself together, Marcus!” He whispered somehow aggressively into his ear shortly before they arrived. They took a seat at the far back and Marcus tried his best to blend in. Terence gave him a weird glance from the side and remarked, “I don’t believe hiding will help your 6’3 arse…” He did have a point and Marcus sat up a little straighter.

Professor Sprout started her lesson with her usual ‘Welcome back’ speech which he would have to listen to tomorrow yet again, only surrounded by Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs. He glanced around the room trying to get an idea of the Gryffindors he would have to spend the rest of the year with. It didn’t take long for him to spot the redhead and brunette sitting at the other end of the table. It also didn’t take long for them to spot him.

Wood, as expected, stared at the Slytherin with planned murder in his eyes. Marcus didn’t really get why Wood was angry with him? First of all, Wood wasn’t the one having to do the tutoring and secondly it wasn’t his fault that Weasley was so horny for being the head boy whose duty it is to tutor those in need.
Weasley, on the other hand, only shot him a few glances and every time Marcus caught his eyes he immediately turned around again. He tried to decipher the emotions on Weasley’s face but unlike Wood it wasn’t clear, he looked somewhat cold or maybe just indifferent.

The other Gryffindors sometimes gave him confused looks, probably wondering why he was still here. The Slytherins knew to keep their mouths shut and only focused on their own work. That also included Higgs who wasn’t paying attention to Marcus’ mind wandering off again.

He wouldn’t see the Gryffindors that much until Thursday but on Friday he would have to spend the entire day with them, sharing every class with them. If he was lucky Wood calmed down a little bit until then but considering the one crow sitting outside the window he truly doubted that.

Thankfully Sprout ended the class and sent them to their afternoon without any homework. Marcus left the green houses as quickly as possible and without looking back.

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Their first four meetings were quiet.

The only thing they talked about was Herbology, Potions and Defence against the Dark Arts. When they weren't talking they were writing down notes, Percy insisted he should colour-code them. It'll be easier to remember them, Percy said. Marcus seriously doubted that.

If you were to ask Marcus he would never admit to it but truth be told he was rather afraid of their first meetings, more specifically of Weasley. The thought of having to spend two hours every week alone with the boy made his skin crawl.

Weasley was quiet and cold and too calm to be a Gryffindor in Marcus‘ opinion. It just didn‘t fit. He was also way too professional, he reminded Marcus of his father‘s colleagues from the Ministry. They way they would sit together and only talk about work for hours… Marcus was almost impressed.

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14. October 1993

The fifth meeting was different.

Oliver was down at the quidditch pitch like every Thursday afternoon. He told Percy beforehand that he would stay a bit longer than usually and practise on his own. Percy didn’t know why that made him ask Marcus to study with him up in his room but now he was questioning said decision. It wasn’t Marcus’ fault, he was sitting at Percy’s desk silently rewriting his notes like Percy told him to. It was himself, he wasn’t uncomfortable but somehow being completely alone with the boy made his skin crawl.

“Weasley?”

Percy looked up and saw Marcus staring over his shoulder at him with furrowed eyebrows, “You alright?” He nodded and managed a thin smile. It seemed though that Marcus didn’t buy it and got up with a sigh, slowly making his way over to him, “You wanna hear something fun?”

He didn’t know what that meant; it could mean anything coming from Flint. He looked puzzled but leaned back in his chair and said, “Alright, Flint...I do…” Marcus smirked and sat down next to him on the bed with his elbows on his knees, “Guess what my fifth class is.”

What?

Now he truly didn’t expect that, “Uhm… What are you talking about?” The Slytherin only snorted, “Go on! Guess!” Well now he was stumbling over his own words. There were so many options, Marcus only has five classes but also so little because Percy has twelve and they only shared four. It probably wouldn’t have taken that long for Percy to figure it out but Marcus staring at him so expectantly with a similar grin Adrian often has was rather distracting.

When suddenly it hit him, “Divination!”

Marcus snapped his fingers at him, “Exactly, red boy!”

"Divination? I never took you for somebody who would take divination."

Marcus shrugged, "It's easy, also it's fun to lie to Trelawney." Percy dropped his hands down to his lap and turned towards him, looking at Marcus with disbelief, "You are lying to a professor? Well- If I think about it, it does seem like something you would do... although it probably isn't the smartest thing to do, Flint..."
Laying down on the bed Marcus groaned, "Oh don't you tell me it's not smart- it's literally what you are supposed to do, Weasel! Make up stories about stars, leaves and the directions birds fly in!"

"Do you mean ornithomancy?"

"How do you know about that? You don't take divination?" Marcus watched the Gryffindor get up and go over to his desk. He took his now neat and very colourful notes and looked them over, always looking for the little mistakes and sitting down at the desk chair.

“The notes look alright. Also, I know because I used to take it but it’s rubbish. Honestly, Flint, you admitted that yourself.” At that moment Marcus realised how tiny Percy looked in his special head boy robes.

“Rubbish? It’s not rubbish! I mean it is but not like that?” Marcus seemed to confuse himself with the thought but Percy believed to know what he meant, “Well, technically it’s not bad to be skilled in the field of Divination. After all there is some truth to it and some careers require basic knowledge about the subject. Of course there is a lot of interpreting which you can’t always take seriously.”

The Slytherin was staring at him with a blank expression on his face, “Yeah… And tradition.”

Percy had a rough idea of what he was talking about but decided not to question it deeper.

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23. October 1993

Marcus’ birthday was on wednesday - the 27th of October.

They’ve seen each other seven times now. They weren’t friends but then again they’ve never been actual rivals. It was always Oliver and Marcus who were at each other’s throat. Percy just got dragged into it.

Percy prided himself with being formal, with having manners. So when, on the Saturday before, he saw Adrian Pucey running around Hogsmeade frantically while yelling at Terence to find the perfect gift, he decided to look for one as well.

Oliver dragged him through the Quidditch shops and it would’ve been the perfect opportunity to buy a little something for Flint. Perhaps a cleaning kit for his broom? Was that too much?
He took a look around and inspected the items and prices.

Oliver walked up to him, obviously intrigued.

„You wanna start flying too?“

Percy jumps and turns to him, now suddenly embarrassed.

„Ah… no, just looking.“

Oliver just shrugged, his attention was immediately grabbed by something else in the shop and left. Percy shook his head and put the cleaning kit back down. It was a little too much, perhaps just some sweets.

About two hours later they left together, Percy now with a little less gold but new parchment, quills and sweets for Flint.

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Percy Weasley used to feel awkward all the time. It got better once he got older but now it just came back ten times worse. He’s sitting in the library, the sweets in his clammy hands. It’s dumb, he’s being polite. It’s a common courtesy. So why is he so nervous?

For some reason it reminds him of the time when he first started dating Penelope Clearwater.

Marcus Flint arrives five minutes late and apologises.

„It’s alright… I thought we could focus on that Herbology essay today?“

The Slytherin nods, „Yeah, we can do that.“ He sits down and pulls out his notes, they’re still colourful. Percy smiles at them and plays with the wrapping of the sweets in his lap. Flint started talking but Percy, for the first time in his life, isn’t listening. You’re a Gryffindor! You’re supposed to be brave!

So he slams the sweets on the table, his face growing horribly red. Flint stops abruptly and looks between him and the sweets.

„Uhm… What?“

„They‘re for you, for your birthday,“ Percy states, simple and monotone in order to regain a little control over himself.

Marcus stares at the bag of Fizzy Wizzies in utter bewilderment before looking back up at Percy.

“Ah… Yes, my birthday… That makes sense.”

He slowly reaches out to inspect the sweets and Marcus almost smiles - although he quickly pulls himself together. The small, squishy balls are pink, yellow and purple and covered in sugar. He hates to admit it but they’re his favourite.

“Thanks,” he simply says and he doesn’t even have to force it.

Percy lets out a relieved sigh and smiles at Marcus. See, Percy? Everybody appreciates good manners!

Although before things could get awkward the redhead points to his herbology book and speaks up, “Alright, let’s figure out the healing effects of Dittany, shall we?”

The Slytherin nods with a new found vigour and stuffs the Fizzy Wizzies into his bag.