The Forgotten Weasley

6

" N O P E "

It was an old pub; not exactly dingy and dusty but rather well preserved and rustic. Brightly lit, the pub reminded Marcus of the Old Bank of England, with its grand chandeliers and remarkably similar structural construction. On the left was a spiral staircase, its hand railings made of fine timber, painted a green colour similar to a vintage liquor bottle.

On his right were a variety of vintage billiard tables, all lined with burgundy coloured felt, propped up with traditional claw legs and supporting parlor style drop pockets.

The smell of old whiskey and cigars made Marcus smile a little. Smells like Home, he thought, chuckling silently. Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Marcus stepped up to the bar, taking a seat in front of the weary looking bartender. The man was tall, built like he could snap the younger man in half if he wanted to.

"Ain't you a little too young to be in a place like this?" the barkeeper raised a brow at the teenager.

"Probably," Marcus grinned brightly, shrugging a little, "Thats why I only want a slice of vanilla cake. With rainbow sprinkles."

The bartender froze, eyeing him with caution, "Pardon?"

"Vanilla cake. Sprinkles," his grin didn't flatter, nor his childish behavior. Marcus felt particularly proud of the code he had set in this bar to connect him to someone from Italy. 

Cake & Sprinkles- what could possibly go wrong?

Observing him for a few more seconds, the bartender nodded, "Follow me, Sir."

Leading him up the spiral staircase, past multiple identical doors until they finally reached a set of grand doors, burgundy coloured, matching the theme of the rest of the pub. The barkeeper bowed in greeting before silently leaving Marcus to stand in front of the doors alone.

Not bothering to knock, he pushed open the heavy door, immediately spotting the suited figure sitting behind a desk. The door barely closed behind him as Marcus lazily threw himself on the couch in front of the desk, legs crossed on the small coffee table, "What do u want?"

The man didn't seem suspired as he stood from the desk, walking towards a small table containing various types of liquor, "Did you get the invitation?" he asked, pouring himself a drink before turning to face the teenage boy.

"You mean this cursed thing?" Marcus rolled his eyes as he searched his pockets for the invite, tossing it on the small coffee table with disgust.

Sitting across from Marcus on an identical couch, a heavily scarred hand picked up the envelope, scanning its contents before exhaling deeply, "I see. This is unpredicted."

"Tell me about it," Marcus muttered, pouting a little as he crossed his arms in annoyance, "I will not attend."

"What?!" the man exclaimed in shock, nearly dropping his glass, "You can't be serious?"

"I am"

The man grimaced as he noticed Marcus was serious, "I highly recommend-"

Marcus scoffed, annoyed, "Need I remind you that you are a messenger, not an advisor. Keep your recommendations to yourself, Nick."

Nick rolled his eyes, leaning back in his seat, "I don't understand why they sent it to you?"

"Yeah, I don't either," Marcus muttered, "Why not invite someone higher up? Why invite me and not boss man?"

"I'm not sure," Nick hummed in thought.

There was a moment of silence, the muffled noise of the busy bar seeping through the cracks of the door. After a few more minutes, Marcus jumped up, dusting off the invisible specks of dust on his hoodie, "Alright then, I'm off! Toodle doo!"

- - - - - 

Marcus apparated to Hogwarts, it was after midnight and the school was pin drop silent. Silently, Marcus trekked through the barren hallways of the Grand Castle, hands stuffed in his pockets. 

He sighed, running a hand through his hair as the Slytherin entrance opened for him. He couldn't wait to get some rest-

"Where have you been?"

- Or not.

Marcus raised a brow as he saw Mattheo sitting by the fireplace, holding a book over his lap. He grinned, cooing a little, "Awww you stayed up for me? What a sweetie-"

Mattheo rolled his eyes at his nonsense, "Its past curfew."

"Really? I had no idea," Marcus muttered under his breath as he collapsed onto the black leather couch, his legs draped over the armrest.

"So? Where have you been?" Mattheo asked again, closing his book and setting it aside.

Marcus draped an arm over his eyes as he leaned his head back, "Out."

Mattheo muttered something under his breath, irritated, "Fine, keep your secrets."

"Why are you awake?" Mattheo asked, ignoring his friends' irritability, "Don't you need your beauty sleep?"

The fire crackled as Mattheo gestured to it, "Thomas wanted to chat."

The Dark haired Weasley hummed, letting the Slytherin Heir know that he heard him. The fire suddenly crackled and a head popped out. Marcus opened one of his eyes as Mattheo leaned towards the fire head, "Thomas."

A pause. "Mattheo. You're not alone."

Marcus startled as the head whipped in his direction before letting out a chuckle. He sat up properly, standing from his seat, "I'm guessing that's my cue to leave," he saluted jokingly to the fire head, "Adios amigos!"

"Stop."

Marcus froze mid-step, tensing. Mattheo glanced between his brother and Marcus, slightly nervous about how Thomas would react. Marcus turned slowly, a grin on his face as all expressions of nervousness melted, "Whats up?"

"Identify yourself," came the reply of the Dark Lord. Mattheo groaned at the absurdness of Marcus.

Marcus bowed dramatically, flourishing a hand, "Marcus Weasley. At your service...fire head of Mattheo's brother?"

A silence. "Weasley?" a snarl reached their ears and Mattheo flinched at the mere venom in the word.

Marcus, however, snorted as the reaction, "You may know me as Marcus Vitale. Now, if you'll excuse me- I have a date with my bed tonight and I've kept my date waiting long enough."

With that, Marcus spun on his heels and strolled away- to his warm bed and a blissful nap.

There was stunned silence as Marcus disappeared up a flight of stairs and Mattheo watched his brothers reaction carefully. He cleared his throat, "Well...you wanted to meet the infamous Marcus."

"That was Marcus?" 

Mattheo suppressed a snort at the flabbergasted look on the Dark Lords face. He hadn't ever seen something like this on his brothers face and it wasn't surprising Marcus was behind this reaction.

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{1065 words}