Fic: Mind Eating Troll
Title: Mind Eating Troll
Author: dangerous_angel
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing(s): Marcus Flint/Percy Weasley.
Summary: “Weasley could do with a bit of shutting up…”
Rating: 15+
Spoilers: None.
Word Count: 760
A/N: Written for Evilevergreen who wanted the Marcus/Percy love. Also, the title comes from the last verse of Hawkwind’s “Reefer Madness”.
In Greenhouse Two, nestled in a corner, obscured by various branches, twigs and sacks of potting soil was something Marcus had been working on for the last four months. He was pants at Herbology, but quite good at all things illegal. Cannabis, Professor Snape called it, his voice becoming deeper and more distinct, reverent. After his first try of the drug, Marcus could see why. He wouldn’t dare call his experiences spiritual, but when he’s out of his tree he feels genuinely happy. He doesn’t sneer or smirk, he laughs. All praise must be given to a substance that could make Marcus Flint happy while he was at Hogwarts.
He hated the school. He hated that he was sorted into a marginalized House. He hated that people thought he was too stupid to know what they really thought of him. Even his own Housemates called him a troll. The girls were the worst. Their voices cut deep and messy like shards of glass but with the precision of a knife. “I would never touch him. Looks a bit rough, doesn’t he?” This usually came from the girls of the first families in the pureblood circles. Not only was he a troll, but also a poor troll. The only thing he was good for was a quick shag never to be spoken of again. The horror if anyone found out. Despite what they said in public, he’d had one or two of these first daughters approach him in private. He knew what they wanted: pain and discomfort and bruises they could admire the next day. They wanted an experience that would make them blush ten years from now when they were bored housewives having tea parties. Fucking cows, all of them.
Usually, thoughts like these would send Marcus into a rage but he was happy and all those things were just facts; nothing to get upset about since he couldn’t change them. And who cared that a bunch of stupid bints didn’t find him attractive? It wasn’t like he found them attractive either. Girls were all soft parts and curves. They broke so easily.
“Excuse me, just what do you think you’re doing here? It’s after curfew. You should be in bed by now.”
Where was he again? Marcus glanced around at his surroundings lazily. First floor, near the Great Hall. He’d walked all the way back to the castle from the greenhouse without noticing. Percy Weasley was standing in front of him. It was strange that this time of night Weasley looked so composed, as if he’d just gotten dressed. His robes were straight and crisp, not a hair on his head was out of place and even his glasses were balanced perfectly on his nose. It must’ve been terribly difficult to be Percy Weasley Marcus decided.
“Flint, did you hear a word I said? You should be in bed. I have a mind to take off points.”
Marcus raised his brow. Take off points? He’d like to see Weasley try. He wondered if Weasley knew what temporary blindness and deafness felt like. He’d found the hex in the library earlier this week and had been looking for the perfect victim. Marcus imagined the hex would cause some excitement in Weasley’s life. It didn’t seem like he had much of that. It was too bad because Weasley would look much better with his robes and hair mussed up and his glasses askew, or at least Marcus thought so.
“How does ten points sound? I’m being quite generous. Only because it doesn’t seem as if you’re causing any trouble, none that I know of anyway.”
Weasley could do with a bit of shutting up too it seemed. Marcus grabbed the boy by his robes, pulling him closer. He was a better kisser than people imagined he could be. With teeth like his, Marcus had learned how to be careful and attentive. Although boys were not as delicate as girls, most didn’t like being mauled. When he’d let go of Weasley, the other boy’s cheeks were flushed and he was silent. His glasses were slightly crooked and his robes were no longer crisp. Marcus could definitely get used to seeing Weasley like this more often.
Weasley didn’t speak but his expression was questioning.
“I like you better when you don’t talk,” Marcus answered. He grinned and continued down the corridor.
When he reached the Slytherin dormitories Marcus had a crazy idea: maybe cannabis wasn’t the only thing that could make him happy. Absolutely barmy he had to be to think that.
-End-
Author: dangerous_angel
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing(s): Marcus Flint/Percy Weasley.
Summary: “Weasley could do with a bit of shutting up…”
Rating: 15+
Spoilers: None.
Word Count: 760
A/N: Written for Evilevergreen who wanted the Marcus/Percy love. Also, the title comes from the last verse of Hawkwind’s “Reefer Madness”.
In Greenhouse Two, nestled in a corner, obscured by various branches, twigs and sacks of potting soil was something Marcus had been working on for the last four months. He was pants at Herbology, but quite good at all things illegal. Cannabis, Professor Snape called it, his voice becoming deeper and more distinct, reverent. After his first try of the drug, Marcus could see why. He wouldn’t dare call his experiences spiritual, but when he’s out of his tree he feels genuinely happy. He doesn’t sneer or smirk, he laughs. All praise must be given to a substance that could make Marcus Flint happy while he was at Hogwarts.
He hated the school. He hated that he was sorted into a marginalized House. He hated that people thought he was too stupid to know what they really thought of him. Even his own Housemates called him a troll. The girls were the worst. Their voices cut deep and messy like shards of glass but with the precision of a knife. “I would never touch him. Looks a bit rough, doesn’t he?” This usually came from the girls of the first families in the pureblood circles. Not only was he a troll, but also a poor troll. The only thing he was good for was a quick shag never to be spoken of again. The horror if anyone found out. Despite what they said in public, he’d had one or two of these first daughters approach him in private. He knew what they wanted: pain and discomfort and bruises they could admire the next day. They wanted an experience that would make them blush ten years from now when they were bored housewives having tea parties. Fucking cows, all of them.
Usually, thoughts like these would send Marcus into a rage but he was happy and all those things were just facts; nothing to get upset about since he couldn’t change them. And who cared that a bunch of stupid bints didn’t find him attractive? It wasn’t like he found them attractive either. Girls were all soft parts and curves. They broke so easily.
“Excuse me, just what do you think you’re doing here? It’s after curfew. You should be in bed by now.”
Where was he again? Marcus glanced around at his surroundings lazily. First floor, near the Great Hall. He’d walked all the way back to the castle from the greenhouse without noticing. Percy Weasley was standing in front of him. It was strange that this time of night Weasley looked so composed, as if he’d just gotten dressed. His robes were straight and crisp, not a hair on his head was out of place and even his glasses were balanced perfectly on his nose. It must’ve been terribly difficult to be Percy Weasley Marcus decided.
“Flint, did you hear a word I said? You should be in bed. I have a mind to take off points.”
Marcus raised his brow. Take off points? He’d like to see Weasley try. He wondered if Weasley knew what temporary blindness and deafness felt like. He’d found the hex in the library earlier this week and had been looking for the perfect victim. Marcus imagined the hex would cause some excitement in Weasley’s life. It didn’t seem like he had much of that. It was too bad because Weasley would look much better with his robes and hair mussed up and his glasses askew, or at least Marcus thought so.
“How does ten points sound? I’m being quite generous. Only because it doesn’t seem as if you’re causing any trouble, none that I know of anyway.”
Weasley could do with a bit of shutting up too it seemed. Marcus grabbed the boy by his robes, pulling him closer. He was a better kisser than people imagined he could be. With teeth like his, Marcus had learned how to be careful and attentive. Although boys were not as delicate as girls, most didn’t like being mauled. When he’d let go of Weasley, the other boy’s cheeks were flushed and he was silent. His glasses were slightly crooked and his robes were no longer crisp. Marcus could definitely get used to seeing Weasley like this more often.
Weasley didn’t speak but his expression was questioning.
“I like you better when you don’t talk,” Marcus answered. He grinned and continued down the corridor.
When he reached the Slytherin dormitories Marcus had a crazy idea: maybe cannabis wasn’t the only thing that could make him happy. Absolutely barmy he had to be to think that.
-End-