Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Incorrigible Infatuation	By : RowenaLupin Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male Views: 14042 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, everything I write belongs to JK Rowling and co. I make no money off this or the music I incooporate. I'm merely a fan

Chapter List
- 8
- 9
- 10
9.)
I could be mean
I could be angry
You know I could be just like you
I could be fake
I could be stupid
You know I could be just like you
Marcus looked up when Harry came through. Something was wrong with him. The Slytherin picked it up instantly.
“Harry?”
The boy curled up beside him but didn’t respond. Marcus put his arm around him and pulled him close.
Harry smiled and nuzzled him. “My Marcus,” he whispered to the eighteen-year-old.
“Yes?”
“Nothing, just enjoying you. Can’t I?”
“Should have a reason.”
“Nope,” Harry said pressing kisses into his neck and up his ear. He decided for now to take the silent approach with Marcus. He didn’t want to get Adrian and Hugh in trouble and he knew that Marcus might withdraw before he had a chance to explain. “How’s the studying?”
“It’s annoying. I’ll pass Defense and Potions for sure. My Transfiguration is worse than a second years.”
“Well Defense and Potions are important and Charms would fall in line with Defense right?”
“Yes. I failed so much through the years. Not giving a shit,” he grumbled. “Now I have my work cut out for me.”
“Well, I know you’ll pass them. You have Herbology too right?”
“Yes. It’s a pointless subject.”
“It’s useful to identify a Devil’s Snare!” Harry teased remembering his first year. “Unless you’re Hermione and have a relapse in memory wondering where the wood is to start a flame…”
Marcus stared at him utterly confused.
Harry burst into snickers that nearly turned to giggles. “In first year, we ran into a Devil’s Snare that nearly strangled us all. Hermione forgot she was a witch and we didn’t know how to cast fire like she did.”
Marcus barked out laughing. “What the fuck were you doing around a Devil’s Snare?” He asked completely distracted.
“Eh, Voldemort, the Philosopher’s Stone, and the like.”
The Slytherin stiffened. “You met him in your first year?”
“Yes,” Harry said stunned that Marcus didn’t know about it. “I thought the whole school knew?”
“No one said anything about Voldemort,” Marcus growled without flinching. “I thought it was a deranged teacher.”
“With Voldemort stuck to the back of his head, yes. That’s why he died, because Voldemort can’t touch me. I’m his own personal hell.”
Confused, Marcus stared at him waiting for him to explain. “Hn? How?”
“My mother’s sacrifice. It burnt him. He couldn’t touch me because of it. You see Marcus, my mother was a Muggle-born witch and it’s because of her I am alive.”
“My opinion has altered, Harry. You changed it,” Marcus said and then tilted his head. “I like your friend.”
Harry beamed. “You like Hermione?”
Marcus nodded. “Uh huh.” He wound up grunting when he got a lap and arm full of a very bouncy Harry Potter. “Couldn’t you tell?” He grumbled.
“I could but it’s nice hearing it in words! If there’s one person who’s really supported us, it’s Hermione.”
“I know,” Marcus responded. “Why?”
Harry shifted until he was straddling his boyfriend and facing him completely. He blessed the man with a soft kiss. “She trusts me. She knows everything I’ve had to deal with and been through. Hell, she understood why I first slept with you. I thought personally she’d kill me with a moral speech. But she surprised me. But then again, she probably shouldn’t have considering she is the most mature witch I’ve ever met and she’s got Muggle in her which shows her the world outside of Magic. She followed along with me and trusted me. Let me be myself. She didn’t try and change me. It hurts the way Ron acts… he doesn’t care about anything else except the fact that you’re a Slytherin.”
“You are too, technically.” Marcus really hated that redhead. Harry was too good for him. That scared little blond boy would have been much better.
“And that’s what hurts the most. He’s like Malfoy in every way except one’s rich, one’s poor, one’s redhead, and one’s blond. They are both stuck in their prejudiced worlds.”
“Pure-bloods are a lot different in society, Harry. Some families, the darker ones do things that most could never condone. They still believe in the 18th Century way of life,” Marcus trailed off and then scowled as his thoughts took hold.
Harry watched him, the brief flicker of emotions, the annoyance and bitter reality of what his parents had done to him. “What did they do to you, Marcus?” Harry whispered softly.
“A lot.” Marcus clenched his small boyfriend and stared off into space. “More than you could understand.”
“Why don’t you try me?”
“Someday,” Marcus said quietly. “Give me time?”
Harry smiled and placed his hands against Marcus’ cheeks. “You can have all the time in the world Marcus. Just remember that nothing can keep me away from you. Got it?”
“Mhmm,” Marcus hummed before taking Harry’s lips into his mouth for a searing kiss.
(o)
The Easter Holidays began and the school was as full as it ever was. Very few people left for home due to the exciting events of the Triwizard Tournament. The warmth outside made everyone spill out and collapse on the grassy green of the courtyard or near the crisp cold black lake.
Harry was under a holly tree just beyond the courtyard. Marcus’ back was to the base of the tree and Harry’s back was against Marcus’ side. Hermione sat by his feet with Viktor on her right side.
She passed Marcus some notes she had on seventh year Herbology. Viktor had his exams to take too before leaving school at the end of the year.
Ron had declined joining them and Harry found that he honestly didn’t mind. Neville came over and plopped down like he belonged. Harry beamed at him and tossed him a chocolate frog.
Hugh and Adrian after much glaring at their friend from afar finally took the initiative to sit as well.
Viktor struck up a Quidditch conversation with the duo and Marcus smirked at them when his friends latched onto Viktor’s conversation.
It was an odd group; those who saw them couldn’t help but be a little confused at the mixture. Especially, considering Viktor was amongst them.
Marcus who was feeling extremely lazy tossed the book aside and curled his arm around Harry, tightening his hold and peering over at what he was doing. He was apparently writing a letter to Sirius. He had one leg bent and the other stretched out in front of him, he was slouched and didn’t feel like moving.
“Can I use your owl?” Harry asked quietly folding the letter.
“Mhmm, why ask?”
Harry shrugged. “You might need him and I can’t use Hedwig. She’s too noticeable.”
“Just use him. Never has anything useful to do anyway.”
“I’ll have to sneak around, Hedwig’s already pissed because I used a regular barn owl.”
Marcus snorted. “Only you could let an owl own you.”
Harry grumbled lowly getting a dark chuckle from his Slytherin boyfriend and a bite to his neck. “How about you own me instead?”
“That can be arranged.” He clasped his fingers to Harry’s chin and tilted it to the side and kissed him softly.
“Aren’t you supposed to be studying?” Adrian taunted his friend.
Marcus left Harry’s lips regrettably and scowled. “Too fucking lazy.”
Neville blushed at Marcus’ words but Hermione was more than used to them now.
“Or just horny,” Hugh teased getting a kick from Marcus.
“Fuck off, you bastard.” Marcus growled.
Neville gaped in fear, as Hugh barked laughing. “I wish!” He threw a wadded piece of parchment at Marcus who flung it back.
“Jack arse.”
Harry snickered and watched Hugh and Adrian tease Marcus to no end. He shifted so that he was able to see them better. Marcus was amused though his harsh words said otherwise, but Harry could tell. His eyes glittered and though Neville was trying to hide behind Viktor, in fear of some backlash Harry knew that it was all in fun.
Harry gasped and flung himself away when Hugh and Adrian pounced on Marcus. Hermione was laughing quietly and watched them act very out of character. Harry leaned against her and was amazed at Marcus’ strength. Hugh and Adrian were like rag dolls. He wasn’t too rough but you could tell the man was holding a lot back.
“Fucking gits!” Marcus scowled with a smirking sneer. He whacked Hugh on the head and held Adrian down on the ground with one hand coaxing him to apologize but the Slytherin Pride refused to allow Adrian to do so.
After ten minutes of this and Hugh’s inability to get Adrian free, the thin Slytherin hissed, “Sorry dickhead!”
“Good boy,” Marcus taunted letting up and getting an undignified huff from the Slytherin.
(o)
It was early morning but Marcus was awake for no other reason than for the fact that Harry was not by his side. It was nine, a holiday, and Marcus Flint was wide awake, scowling, with a Herbology book in one hand and Hermione Granger’s damn notes in the other. With the starch white sleeves of his uniform pulled back to his elbows and the shirt un-tucked and the Slytherin tie hanging loosely he set out for the Great Hall, paying no mind to the winding halls and trusted his feet to carry him the right way. Harry had left him a note saying he was helping that half-giant he was so fond of.
“Good Morning Hugh, I saw your parents last night for dinner-”
Marcus’ head snapped up once he reached the hall. The hot anger and the cold expression went hand in hand as he snapped his book shut and zeroed in on the man standing in front of his two friends.
Adrian was frowning slightly at him, while Hugh remained expressionless and inclined his head slightly in respect.
The man in particular was about a head shorter and a whole lot thinner than Marcus. He was considered agedly handsome with well-groomed black hair that was slicked back in a low small tail. His skin was a deep olive and his lips were thin and sullen. This man and Marcus shared the same eyes and hair and that was all.
Next to him, was an auburn haired willowy witch with an oval shaped face and deep tanned skin with red lips; they both looked younger than they were.
Jezabel and Seth Flint had come to Hogwarts.
Adrian was the first to see Marcus before the others followed suit, all eyes on him. “What the hell are you doing here?” Marcus rumbled stoically.
“Marcus!” Jezabel squealed and rushed to him but he sidestepped her with ease. He did not wish for her claws to touch him, mother or not. She gaped when he shot her a warning look. She retracted her fingers and simpered. “We’ve missed you, Marcus.”
Bull shit! Marcus thought in disgust. She was oozed with false sugary substance that left a nasty aftertaste to those who succumbed to her. She was like a black widow.
He shot his father a look to get on with it. “Son, we have come on an important family matter,” Seth said coldly, his eyes piercing Marcus’. “It seems son that you forgot where your loyalties lie. You are in need of a sharp reminder. You ignored my summons and now I am here because of that to set right the wrong you are doing.”
Most of Slytherin was hovering around, those who knew the Flints were watching with interest. Hermione was standing by the Grand Staircase with Viktor at her side. Marcus was relieved to know that Harry was nowhere in sight. He didn’t need to see this.
Marcus would have given anything to break his father. The man hardly deserved such a title. The contrast between them all was absolutely stunning. Seth and Jezebal were absolutely gorgeous. Marcus was nothing like them.
“You came all this way for nothing then. I denounce my Title as Heir to the Flint Family. You can go now.”
Jezabel made a noise like a wounded cat, while Seth sneered at him. Marcus made to leave when his father snapped a hand onto his forearm.
“You listen here!” The man hissed quietly. “I will have no more of this. You and that Potter boy. I made you, who you are Marcus! I am responsible for creating you; you are an abominable tool that I will use when he returns. Got it? I told you he is returning and you will stand by my side as my tool, my gift to him!” No one but Adrian and Hugh heard him.
But everyone saw the look of hatred on Marcus’ face. “I am not like you, father, go fuck up my brothers and leave me the goddamn hell alone. You may have created me, but I can break you,” he snarled vindictively. He jerked away from Seth’s grasp. “Go to hell, Seth Flint. You too Jezabel. Don’t ever cross me, Seth. I will show you what you made if you do.”
The entire hall heard but only a few understood.
“You are just like me, Marcus! You will always be like me, I made you that way. You will not be able to hold onto your urges and what will you do?” Seth spat at his retreating back.
Marcus paused in mid-step and looked once over his shoulder. “Use you.” He smirked at the look of terror on Jezabel’s face and the contorted reddened rage on his father’s. “In the mean time, I’ll deal.”
It was then that the Headmaster stepped in. “Mr. Flint, I don’t appreciate you assaulting my children in the school.
“That’s my son!”
“While he’s in school he is my student. I do not care what relation you happen to be, Mr. Flint. Touch one of my children and I will have you arrested.”
Jezabel was gawking at him when Seth grabbed her arm. “Muggle loving bastard!” He hissed at the twinkle-eyed man. “You’ll all meet your end! Let’s go Jez,” he snarled and yanked her toward the double doors.
Marcus busied himself with some breakfast, ignoring the stares he received from his fellow housemates along with others. Hugh and Adrian took their seat next to him and all was quiet. He buried his nose back into the Herbology book.
He didn’t care about Seth or Jezabel. They could both go to hell. He wasn’t wasting his energy on them. The only one not present at Slytherin was Draco Malfoy, not like Marcus cared. There was a loud crack up above signaling a thunderstorm going on outside.
Harry liked the rain, Marcus mused to himself before staring up at the purplish-gray sky. He could briefly imagine his little lover falling in the mud and rolling around with giggles. It was a strange sight to think of this and he was far too set in those thoughts.
Things were becoming strangely domesticated. He shook his head visibly and went back to his book, much to the amusement of Adrian and Hugh.
As another rumble of thunder rattled through the Great Hall, the doors burst open and a sopping wet Draco appeared in the most ungraceful manner anyone had ever seen the aristocratic prat. He rushed over to the Slytherin table and advanced on Marcus.
“What now?” Marcus grumbled. He already had to deal with one arse for the day he didn’t want to deal with another. Chances are he would meet the wall and the outcome wouldn’t be pretty.
“Your dad found Potter-” He hissed though he never finished because Marcus bolted from the Great Hall in a speed that no one had ever seen the large Slytherin use. Hugh and Adrian followed quickly behind him.
(o)
Harry burst into a million soft chuckles as he rushed through the rain to Hagrid’s hut. He was soaked from head to toe but he didn’t mind. The rain was warm and it felt good on his skin, though his clothes stuck to him like glue. “Hagrid! I have them, what more do you need?” He rushed through and nearly toppled over when Fang jumped him in excitement.
“Oi, Harry! Yeh’ll get sick if yeh keep going outside. I ‘ave enough thank you. I didn’t expect the Skrewt to take things so far, little tyke he is.”
Harry sighed good-naturedly at Hagrid. Only he would call a five-foot tall crab that spat fire and poison a tyke. “Yes, well, that sting can’t get infected. I don’t need that ugly old gray bat coming back to teach.” He liked Grumbly-Plank but it made Hagrid’s chest puff up in pride when Harry pretended he didn’t.
Hagrid went pink in the cheeks and waved his hand. “Shouldn’t say that about an ol’ lady, but thank yeh Harry.”
“No problem,” Harry said smiling. He mashed the leaves up in a small bowl and applied the substance to Hagrid’s burnt face. When he was done, he washed his hands, and then used his wand to dry himself though he knew it was pointless, he’d have to run back through the rain again to get to the castle. That would be fun! Harry pondered how many times he’d slip and fall in the mud.
When he was sure the sting would not get infected, he hugged Hagrid and ruffled Fang’s scruff before waving his good byes. He set off back out into the wild spring rain that covered him once again from head to toe.
Harry was wearing a simple dark blue robe set with a few slashes in the sides showing light gray traces underneath. He made it to the courtyard and was about to stalk up the slippery steps when he was hit sharply in the back by something that took the breath out of his body. He fell, knees to the wet grass, hands into the mud with a yelp. When he turned on his back, he stared into fixed eyes of dark black.
“Crucio!”
No description could be used to detail the pain. Harry’s earsplitting screams and undeniable cries as he thrashed, convulsed, and trembled in the mud.
“You ruined everything!” The man snarled. “Everything I worked for!”
Harry screamed some more, it was like hot knives stabbing him from the inside out. He held no shame for his cries. Too much pain, too much, red-hot, everything spun, nothing made sense. He hardly heard the man who had him under such a curse. Oh, it was terrible.
“Seth! Let him go, he’s just a little boy.”
“Shut up Jez! He ruined our son!”
Marcus saw nothing but rage when he rushed out of the school. The first thing he heard were Harry’s infinite screams of pain. The sound tortured him, it was all it took for the bloodlust to spread through him. His mother screamed when Marcus reached out, grabbed him by the throat with one hand, and used the other to wrench his wand arm back affectively getting a crunch and now an earsplitting shriek from his own father. A very undignified sound.
The wand fell from the smaller man’s slack grip. Marcus continued to squeeze as he broke every bone in the man’s arm before slinging him down into the mud.
“MARCUS NO! Stupefy!” Jezabel hit him with a stunner but it rolled off him like water. He ignored her completely and continued to advance on his father who backed up into the mud.
“Get away from me!”
“What’s wrong, father? Can’t handle your own creation?” The first thing he did was bust his father’s nose clean open with a surge of his palm. The adrenaline rushed and he grinned maliciously as his father hollered in agony. “This is what you made me, father, your tool has turned on you and he will now kill you.” When his mother jumped on him to stop, he turned around and shoved her off him down into the mud. She was too small to hold herself up and met the ground. “Stay off me you whore,” he spat.
“No! No!” Seth gurgled on his own blood as Marcus lifted him. “I’m your father!”
“I care because-?” He brought the man closer to him so that no one could hear his hissing words. “Rule Number One, death has no relation. Rule Number Two, Everyone is Your Enemy, I- you Seth Flint are my enemy. Rule Number Three, You Are A Weapon… shall I go on?” He chuckled darkly at the blood that splattered. There were marks on the man that Marcus didn’t even remember creating. He only knew about the nose. It was like he went into a trance, not realizing he’d been torturing his father while throwing those familiar words back at him.
Harry forced himself up and out of Hugh and Adrian’s grasp. He was breathing heavily and his body was gurgling with shocking pain. The entire teacher’s faculty was casting stunners at Marcus but they simply rolled off him. No one dared go near, he was in such a dangerous murderous state.
Jezabel was sobbing into the mud, her perfect clothing muddy and torn. Harry approached.
“No Potter!” Severus Snape reached out to grab him but with his Seeker reflexes, he outmaneuvered the Slytherin Head of House.
“Marcus Owen Flint!” Harry yelled and grabbed ahold of the man’s muscular forearm to keep him from sending another bloody blow. This one possibly fatal. “No, Marcus, No! Stop, please, don‘t, no more, Marcus, please.”
Marcus had been ready to finish him, seriously, he could feel the want, the need to end this pathetic bastard’s life, and then he heard it. Harry’s voice sang through his ears and then his mind and down into his heart.
“Please Marcus!” He felt those small hands grip his forearm desperately to pull him back. “I’m okay, Marcus. Please, he’s not worth it.” Harry moaned into his bicep.
Marcus squeezed his father, who whimpered painfully. He was a bloody sopping mess; nearly every bone in his body broken including part of his jaw and most of his neck, shoulder, and arms. Like a puppet on a string, Marcus let go and the man crashed down to the ground.
Blood dripped from his hands, chest, and even on his face.
“Marcus!” Harry nudged into his side, not caring about the stains. “Marcus!”
The man responded by curling his arm around Harry and drawing him closer.
Professor Dumbledore, Snape, and McGonagall saw that it was safe to act and did. Alastor Moody was growling about disgusting traitorous Death Eaters and where they belonged.
Marcus buried his face into Harry’s hair, taking in the rain, mud, and scent that he always carried. “Are you alright?” He whispered hoarsely. His veins were still pumping and his heart thudded with a want and a need.
“Fine, Marcus, please don’t kill him,” Harry whispered. “I know what he’s done to you, I know what he tried to turn you into.” Marcus stiffened. “But I’m not leaving you and you can’t leave me!”
“I won’t,” Marcus rumbled from chest, though he wondered if Harry knew about what his father had tried, why his sweet little partner would even remain in his presence.
“That means no Azkaban!” Harry gripped his shirt with needy hands and reached up onto his tiptoes to kiss him on the chin. His muscles ached, and his head was pounding from the Cruciatus and all the crying. But otherwise, he was relatively unharmed, apart from the occasional shiver and twitch.
The rain had continued to fall down, washing some of the blood from Marcus away and it only occurred to him that most of Slytherin and two-thirds of the school were on the steps watching.
Hermione, Viktor, Hugh, and Adrian had made their way toward them but remained silent and watchful.
Jezabel and Seth were removed from the grounds and out of Marcus’ sight.
Professor Flitwick came over with a squeak, when Hagrid came thundering over. “HARRY! HARRY! I heard you screamin’? What happened to yeh?”
“Hagrid!” Hermione gasped. “It’s alright Hagrid, slow down.”
“I heard it, I know I did! What happened?”
“I’m fine, Hagrid,” Harry placated lifting his head from a still and frozen Marcus.
“No yeh weren’t you were screamin! You were cryin’ what ‘appened?” The man looked horror stricken. “I should have gotten ter yeh first yeh came from my hut! I was ‘eld up! I gots attacked again.” He held out the burns on his hands and Harry sighed not for the first time at his large friend.
“You and Skrewts,” he murmured shaking his head. When will he ever learn?
“Hagrid, calm down!” Flitwick stood by the large half-giant‘s side and boy did they look like a sight. One craning his neck up and the other looking down miserably. “Mr. Flint saved him from the worst of it, now, if we could all just remain calm. Mr. Flint please escort Mr. Potter to the hospital wing?” The little man was unsure if Marcus could respond, but then suddenly he snapped out of his trance and complied with the Charms Professor’s order.
Harry stumbled a bit as the nerves in his legs gave out. Marcus was ready and lifted the small teen into his arms. Harry grumbled. “I’m fine.”
“Not,” Marcus argued lowly as the students parted like the sea.
They had a whole horde behind them following. A few faces were terrified and some shied away when Marcus and Harry got too close but none of them really registered.
Harry simply buried his face into Marcus’ hard chest and waited out what would happen next.
He was only glad that he stopped Marcus from killing that man. Harry couldn’t fathom how it would all go if he died and Marcus wound up in Azkaban.
Harry shivered violently and clutched Marcus tighter. “Don’t leave me.”
“You’re shivering,” he said instead of answering again. After all this, Marcus wasn’t sure what would happen.
“I’m scared.”
“He won’t touch you anymore.”
“I’m scared for you. I don’t want you in trouble.”
“I’ll pay my way out of it,” Marcus said simply. “What did he do to you?”
“The Cruciatus…”
Marcus closed his eyes as they reached the infirmary and be buried his face once again into Harry’s sopping wet hair next to his ear. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’m fine, nothing a little sleep won’t cure.”
But Marcus was still sorry. He was so very sorry for everything. It was his fault. All his fault. How could Harry forgive him for this? Why would he want too? He was a bloodthirsty monster. He was nothing that Harry needed. He wasn’t good enough.
He was asking his questions all over again. Why? Why did Harry want him? The monster that he was. The monster that his father created. Though he may be a monster, he would never be like his father. He couldn’t be.
I could be cold
I could be ruthless
You know I could be just like you
I could be weak
I could be senseless
You know I could be just like you
You thought you were standing beside me
You were only in my way
You’re wrong if you think that I’ll be just like you
Just Like You - Three Days Grace
- 8
- 9
- 10
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Incorrigible Infatuation