Slytherin's Heir

Chapter Twenty-Five ~ The Backstory of Marcus Clove (Part 1)

Marcus felt undeniably guilty. He had information that most would jump at to obtain. It could earn him much favour among his father who couldn't stand being bested by anybody. Draco had given more information than Marcus had and his father took it as a personal strike against him. He made it very clear how useless he thought his son was. His own flesh and blood, a failure.

This was Marcus' chance to perhaps redeem himself just a little.

But that wasn't the only reason he acted as an informant.

It was no secret his father had little love for his children and that 'mercy' wasn't a word in his vocabulary, regardless of the victim. Marcus had a gift, and a valuable one that his father needed. But Marcus had more than a gift, he also had a sister, and if Marcus was unwilling to use that gift...

There was also Zaiden.

What if Marcus did so terribly that his father came hunting for some kind of leverage to persuade him? Perhaps the one person he couldn't bear to see hurt again was the innocent Hufflepuff boy.

With these thoughts in mind, Marcus steeled himself and forced himself to recite the words he'd earlier heard. Because as much as he hated to sell anyone to the Dark Lord, he hated to see those he wished to protect get hurt even more.

Because Marcus knew all too well that his father wouldn't hesitate.

~~~~ Flashback ~~~~
~ WARNING ⚠️: SOME CONTENT MAY BE TRIGGERING~

The night closed in on the two children. One boy and one girl, chilled by the night and the frosty wind that whipped at their nightclothes as they raced through the forest. Terror made their hearts beat faster than a rabbit could run.

This was the night.

The night they would escape.

The little girl tripped with a cry and the boy, four years older, hauled her to her feet and dragged her along, her crying the whole way.

The boy came to a sudden halt and spun around, gripping the girl's shoulders with white knuckles. Her eyes were brimming with tears and her lower lip trembled with fear.

"Isa, we have to keep running." God help us if we get caught, the boy thought. He didn't dare to think about what their father would do.

"I don't want to!" She cried stubbornly and he hushed her quickly. The sound of barking dogs sent a chill down the boy's spine and his face went deathly pale. Both children knew what that meant.

He knew they were gone.

The boy picked her up and ran, ignoring how her small hands clawed at his back, trying to keep a grasp on his sweat stained shirt, legs wrapped desperately around his waist. She was slipping, but still he had to keep running, no matter how much exhaustion made him want to stop and drop. Isa was heavy, and he was not very strong for a twelve year old boy. It was slower this way, but he would not leave her behind.

"Please, Marcus! Maybe if we go back he'll forgive us!"

"Father will not forgive us." Marcus panted, not stopping. She cried harder.

Soon the dogs could be heard crashing through the bushes after them, viscously snapping at his heels. They caught up, pulling him down by snagging their teeth on his clothes. Isa screamed in terror, her breath catching.

Marcus crashed into the ground, on top of his sister. He used his own body to shield her from the hunting dogs as they ripped at his nightshirt and grappled with his shoes. They didn't touch his flesh, as they were trained not to do unless Marcus tried to run. He stayed stock still, holding in his own sob of fear until a flashlight illuminated his back.