"Life used to be a lot more peaceful when I was dead"
Unnoticed. Ignored. Forgotten.
So he left. Never to be seen again. Vanished from the face of the earth.
Until Today. Four years later, the black-haired Weasley makes a comeback that takes the...
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"Mr Weasley, the Headmaster wishes to speak to you in his office," Snape muttered as he came to a stop in front of Marcus and Scorpius.
Marcus didn't bother to bat an eyelash and continued his conversation with the Malfoy Heir, "So, is it greasy or silky?!"
Scorpius sighed as he bit into an apple, "What do you think, Marcus?"
Marcus put a hand to his chin, deep in thought, "Hmm..."
"Now, Mr Weasley-," Snape repeated, annoyed at the boy already.
Marcus sneaked a quick yet obvious glance at the fuming potions master before turning back to Scorpius, "Definitely Grease."
"Marcus!" Snape finally snapped.
"Yes?" Marcus looked up, an innocent look on his face as Scorpius tried to stifle his laugh, "Is there a problem, Severus?"
"It's Professor," Snape glared at his laughing godson before turning back to a grinning Marcus, "The Headmaster wishes to speak to you."
"Your first name is Professor, Severus?" Marcus feigned awe as he fanned his face with his hand, "It's as though you were destined to teach!"
"Brats, the lot of them," Severus muttered before turning on his heel and stalking towards the Great Hall doors.
~~~
"Oh Marcus! My poor baby!" the voice barreled towards him and Marcus yelped in surprise, sidestepping the crazy lady and watched her crash into a shelf. Odd trinkets and books flew everywhere and the shelf toppled on top of the round woman.
"Molly!" Arthur Weasley and Ronald Weasley rushed to the collapsed ginger, pushing the wooden shelf off the woman.
Marcus scowled as he placed a hand on his racing heart, "Dammit, was that a banshee?! Nearly downright gave me a heart attack, god!"
"That...is your mother," Severus muttered as he coughed, covering up a laugh.
Marcus pursed his lips together in thought as he narrowed his eyes at the large, whining woman, "Oh. No, I was mistaken- a banshee is way skinnier...and bearable."
Dumbledore cleared his throat loudly, catching his attention, "Mr Weasley, I'm sure you know why I've call you here?"
Marcus nodded, resolute, "You want me to blow up the blasted sorting hat," Immediately he pulled out his wand and aimed it at the dusty old hat that sat on the Headmasters table, "I'm on it. Bombar-"
"Mr Weasley!" Dumbledore exclaimed as he quickly protected the hat, "The sorting hat is over a thousand years old and was created by all four founders, making it extremely sacred to Hogwarts!"
