Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Katie Bell/Marcus Flint
Characters: Katie Bell, Marcus Flint
Mr Ballard was quite accustomed to his regular customers' antics. Sometimes, he had to ask them to at least keep their clothes on. But usually, like tonight, he was at risk of serious damages to his little restaurant. It wouldn't be the first time. One-shot / AU /
The Wicked Warlock was as busy as ever tonight. The quaint little restaurant, on the corner of Diagon Alley and Everthorn Street, was packed with visitors. Most of them were families celebrating the beginning of the summer holidays. The general happy atmosphere at such days, full of laughter and happy chatter, was nowhere in sight, though. The restaurant was eerily silent as all eyes and ears were on the couple at a table in the farthest corner.
The couple's conversation, which had begun soft and gentle, was growing louder and cruder with each passing minute. They were regulars, had been for years and, unfortunately, this display wasn't uncommon for them.
The first time Mr Ballard had welcomed them into his establishment, five years ago now, the young man had just been promoted to the Tornadoes' premier team as a Chaser and the girl had been in her final year at Hogwarts.
At the time, the couple had made a curious sight; the dainty schoolgirl on the arm of a foulmouthed, behemoth of a Quidditch player who easily could have broken her in two with one finger. Mr Ballard had assumed that it would be the first and last time that he would see the couple. The picture they made was too unusual, their incompatibility practically oozing off them. That night, they had left quarrelling, only affirming the older man's assumption.
However, to his surprise, the couple had returned a month later for lunch on a Saturday afternoon. The way they had held hands over the table top, the shy smiles, and their soft chatter had been a far cry from the first time Mr Ballard had met them.
That was five years ago and the couple was still going strong, or so was assumed. In those five years, they had continued their routine of visiting the restaurant once a month and Mr Ballard had learnt that his first impression of them had been a wrong one.
While the girl looked like a delicate flower, she had a temper and a mouth on her that rivalled her boyfriend's. The young man, who never held back during their verbal matches, physically handled her with a tender gentleness that almost seem too unnatural for his physique. Mostly, they were a sweet sight to behold. Mostly.
Mr Ballard had witnessed enough arguments between the couple, each time thinking that this would be the one that ended their relationship. Tonight was no different. He was quite accustomed to his regular customers' antics. Sometimes, he had to ask them to keep their clothes in a surprise turn of events. Usually, like tonight, he was at risk of serious damages to his little restaurant. That wouldn't be the first time either.
Sighing, the man warily watched the couple, just like the rest of his guests. He would give them five more minutes to calm down. If they wouldn't, he'd have to ask them to leave. Too many young children were present tonight to appreciate or tolerate the language the coupled spewed. It was a shame, though, the night had started so promisingly.
On the other side of the restaurant, the couple, also known as Marcus Flint and Katie Bell, continued their argument without noticing their audience. Their lack of propriety, in both their arguments and public display of affection, had often caused their families and friends severe headaches. Although the Prophet seemed to make a profit off their fights; they always guaranteed additional sales for the newspaper. Tonight's argument wasn't any different. Rita Skeeter, who was coincidently having dinner with a colleague, already had her quill and parchment out.
"Give it to me, Flint," Katie Bell spat at her boyfriend.
It needed to be said that she loved him with all her heart. He could make her toes curl in ecstasy with just a look. Tonight, though, she wasn't beyond hexing him into oblivion. As always, it was the one or the other with them.
"Don't do me any favours, Bell, I'm not a charity case," Marcus replied acidly. She was testing his patience and he was this close to snapping. Out of all the possible scenario's, this was not the way he had imagined their dinner to go.
"For fuck's sake. Do you have to be such an arse? Just be a good boy and hand it over."
Marcus regarded Katie for a minute. With her eyes narrowed and her hand held out she resembled those witches his mother used to warn him about. Perhaps, he should have listened to her. Then again, who would have thought that this sweet innocent looking girl could turn into a hag in a matter of seconds? He blamed her for most of the grey hairs on his head.
Katie threw her hands up in the air in frustration. "Why not? Isn't that the purpose of that sodding thing?"
"Drop it." Marcus sighed and took a big gulp from his goblet. Maybe, if he drank enough, the night would become more bearable.
"I will not. Now, give it to me."
Katie was usually a very patient woman. She had to be with Marcus as her boyfriend; he had the natural ability to drive her up the wall without trying. Tonight he was pushing all her buttons and he knew it.
"Fuck, Katie! Give it a rest, will you!"
He shot her one of his patented withering looks. The one that had most of his opponents on the Quidditch pitch turn around and fly off in the opposite direction. Unfortunately, it had never worked on her. No, she just rolled her eyes and continued her nagging each time.
"Not until you give it to me." Katie wasn't about to let it go that easily. She would win in the end, she always did. Marcus should have known better than to start with her.
"Drop it. Forget I've ever brought it up."
"Forget about it? Forget about it? Are you mental? You can't just bring up something like that and tell me to forget about it ten minutes later. You throbbing arse, it doesn't work like that."
"How does it work then? You've laughed in my face. What makes you think I'd try it again?"
"You big troll! I wasn't laughing at you; there is a difference. You ought to know better by now."
"So, pointing at me and cackling like a Knockturn Alley hag is you not laughing at me? I'm not that thick, you daft bint."
"I was nervous." Katie shrugged carelessly. She did understand where he was coming from, she really did. But still, it didn't give him the right to take it back. "Now, hand it over."
"Merlin's saggy balls! Give it to me or I will hex your tiny prick off and serve it to you for breakfast."
"Tiny? You weren't complaining last night. Or this morning, for that matter. If I remember correctly, I actually served it to you for breakfast."
Marcus smirked, his arms folded and chin in the air. He had her there.
"I'm a good actress," Katie mumbled in her goblet. Her cheeks flushed as she thought about their escapades of the last twenty-four hours.
They had celebrated their five-year anniversary in style, naked and entwined in each other. However, that was beside the point. She knew very well what he was trying to do and she would not stand for it, not tonight.
"We'll discuss that another time. Preferably, after you've given it to me."
"Dammit." Marcus thought that he'd distracted her. He should have known that she wouldn't let this go that easily. Katie turned into a rabid selkie whenever she set her heart on something.
Feeling defeated, he rummaged in his pocket. He was quite attached to his cock; he wouldn't put it past her to hex him in his sleep. She had done it before, after all.
"Fine, you mad wench." Marcus tossed a little black box at her. Unfortunately, Mr Ballard chose that moment to interrupt them.
"Mr Flint, Ms Bell?" The dark scowl on Katie's face took the men aback and he was sure he heard her hiss at him. "Can you please keep it down? The other guests are complaining."
Marcus apologised courteously and promised to keep their voices down. All the while, he had his eyes trained on Katie. She was gently fingering the little box, anxiously waiting until she could open it. As soon as Mr Ballard left, he confronted her.
"What's it going to be?"
Katie rolled her eyes in annoyance and tossed the little box back to him. "Ask me properly, you great knobhead."
"Why? We both know what this means."
Not for the first time, Katie wondered what it was she saw in the great pillock seated opposite of her. Then she remembered the month that they had broken up and how it had nearly killed her. The truth was that she loved him, flaws and all. Even if she wanted to hex him into a million pieces sometimes. Tonight would be one of those times.
"Still, you have to ask me. You can't just assume."
Marcus sighed again; it seemed to be all he was doing tonight. His witch was infuriating. "Fine. I'm not dropping to my knees, though. These are new trousers."
"Marcus," Katie growled threateningly, her finger waggling in the air in warning.
Katie drank the last of her wine and stared at him, her face blank. There wasn't a clue to what she might be thinking and it was rather unsettling. It was never a good sign when she stayed silent.
"Aren't you going to answer me?"
"I'm sorry. Was there a question in there? It sounded more like an order."
Now it was Marcus' turn to keep quiet. He wasn't going to give in or give her chance to say no. Not that he expected her to, she had pestered him about this since she had finished school. The silence continued for a few minutes, neither of them willing to speak first.
"Fine, I'll marry you." Katie eventually gave in, exasperation clear in her voice. "But you better come up with a brilliant story to tell our children. This was hardly romantic. Now, put the ring on my finger."
"We just agreed on marriage and you're already talking about our imaginary children," he retorted as he slid the ring, his grandmother's, on her finger. "You're bonkers."
"You have to be prepared for anything. Ask for the bill so that we can get out of here."
"I haven't had dessert yet," Marcus whined. He was looking forward to the chocolate mousse, easily the best part of the evening.
Kate already stood next to her chair, eager to get away. "I'll give you dessert when we get home."
"Really?" A mischievous glint appeared in Marcus' eyes and he licked his lips. He had to correct himself, Katie's desserts were the best part of the evening.
"First, though, we'll have to visit my parents."
"Fuck," Marcus muttered, he knew that he had forgotten something. Gary Bell was not going to appreciate that he hadn't asked him first for his daughter's hand. The man was a beast on the best of days and already disliked Marcus with a passion. This would be another strike against him.
"Mum will be elated. She's been waiting for ages for this to happen," Katie chattered on, not seeing or caring about Marcus' plight. "Don't just sit there; we need to go!"
Marcus reluctantly stood up, not liking the idea of facing his soon to be father-in-law. Even the prospect of Katie's special desserts couldn't cheer him up. He tossed a few Galleons on the table en followed his girlfriend, now fiancée, out.
"You better have double desserts ready," he grumbled. Not that Katie was listening. She was already planning on how to tell her parents and going over venues for their reception.
As they walked through the restaurant, Marcus sneered at the other guests. It helped to know that he at least still could intimidate strangers. A few children even started crying. Yes, he still had it.
"Wipe that smug look off your face, Flint. It isn't a real accomplishment to make little kids cry."
"Let me have my fun, you tart."
"You might want to call me that around my father. He'll surely love your pet names for me."
"What about your names for me?"
"Daddy has taught me those."
"You lot are crazy."
Mr Ballard watched the young couple leave his restaurant. A small smile played on his lips whilst he shook his head. Having heard a better part of the conversation between the two, he was certain that it was probably one of the most absurd proposals he had witnessed. Nevertheless, it suited the couple very well.
Their marriage promised to be filled with fireworks. Mr Ballard was sure of it.