Sparks

Chapter Twenty-Six:

"Tarquin," asked Circe in the Slytherin common room later that night. "Is Marcus okay?"

"I'm not sure," said Tarquin sarcastically. "After all, it's not every day that your girlfriend breaks up with you after your betrothal to a girl you've never seen is announced in the morning paper."

The Slytherin common room was quiet and deserted.

"You prat," said Circe heatedly. "I was only asking a question. There was no need to be so snippy."

"What is it Circe," said Tarquin nastily. A surge of white-hot jealousy went through him as they begun to talk. Circe had not said a word to him in weeks. Now that Marcus was upset, she finally deigned to talk to him.

"Do you want the password to our room so you can 'comfort' Marcus? Oh well, as long as you don't mind if he calls you Katie, eh?"

Circe paled then whacked Tarquin across the face with her open palm. Tarquin gave a small bitter laugh as he touched his face where she hit him.

"I was only going to say that I was sorry," hissed Circe.

Tarquin pulled her up to his body with strong cruel hands. "He has to marry some one else," growled out Tarquin. "Give it up. You are never going to have him." He punctuated his words by shaking her.

"Stop it," said Circe as she tried to escape Tarquin's arms. "You're hurting me."

Tarquin gave a small smirk as his hands gentled on her arms and he slowly caressed her back. He leaned closer until his mouth was hovering an inch from her lips. Circe stood frozen in surprise.

"Stop it," breathed Circe.

"I'm not hurting you now," purred Tarquin softly. "I'm not preventing you from leaving now, am I?"

Circe could feel her heart rate increase. She had spent weeks studiously avoiding him. Those kisses after the fight had shaken her. And she regretted saying those awful things to him. She shook her head mutely as her gaze dropped to his mouth.

"I don't like Marcus like that anymore," said Circe quietly. "It was just a crush."

"No?" asked Tarquin with a raised eyebrow.

Circe shook her head wordlessly. The strong attraction she felt for Tarquin Bole was confusing her. His mouth was still so close.

"Prove it," demanded Tarquin. He deliberately moved closer to her, so close he could feel her heart beat.

"I don't know how," sputtered Circe. Circe could feel his hard body pressing closer and his mouth dipped closer as well.

"Think about it," said Tarquin with heavy lidded eyes.

Circe closed her eyes and touched her mouth to his hesitantly. She pressed her mouth harder against his unresisting mouth. With a sudden moan, Tarquin arms tightened around her and he plundered her soft mouth. Circe clung to his broad shoulders helplessly as they exchanged a series of passionate kisses. She jumped in surprise the first time she felt his tongue in her mouth. Then she leaned in closer.

Tarquin lifted his mouth away from hers for just a moment. "I think this proves that I do want you," growled Tarquin. He cut her off with another kiss when she tried to say something. He coaxed her mouth open again for another deep kiss. For Circe, time melted away.

"There are people coming," said an amused voice.

Circe squeaked in shock as she opened her eyes and found herself on Tarquin's lap on a chair in the Slytherin common room. Her face was flaming and her mouth was swollen. She tried to get off but his hands tightened and he would not let her move.

"Thanks Chris," said Tarquin as he silently told him with his eyes to bugger off.

"I'll be going then," said Warrington with a smirk as he left the room.

"I have to go," said Circe a little desperately as she squirmed on top of Tarquin's lap.

"For the record," whispered Tarquin hotly in her ear. "I know that I made a terrible mistake at Yule. I should have chosen you and made you forget about Marcus. I was annoyed and made a mistake. I'm sorry."

"Okay," said Circe breathlessly as she stilled in surprise. If she wasn't mistaken, Tarquin Bole was apologizing to her. "But you are still going to marry Cassandra. She's my sister and I love her. We can't have a relationship."

"We've spent the last few months bickering and snogging," said Tarquin. "Isn't that a relationship?"

"Don't be daft Tarquin," protested Circe. You know what I mean."

Circe and Tarquin looked at each other then they started to laugh. A few moments later, Circe got to her feet with a sigh.

"I have to go," said Circe quietly.

"I know," said Tarquin. He watched her leave. Tarquin turned towards his room with a sigh. When Chris and Tarquin went back to the room this afternoon, Marcus had curtly told them that Katie had broken up with him after Tarquin asked if Katie had spoken to him yet. Marcus looked awful. Tarquin wondered if he had any firewhiskey in his trunk. Thank Merlin, it was Friday.

Marcus curled up tighter into his blanket as he heard Chris then Tarquin enter the room. He could hear them muttering from inside his bed curtains. A second later, Tarquin ripped them open.

"Get up mate," said Tarquin. "Are you going to lie in bed being depressed all night?"

"Yes," said Marcus stonily.

"Have you eaten?" asked Chris.

"I'm not hungry," said Marcus with a glare as he pulled his curtains closed with a snap. Marcus buried his face in the pillow and willed the strange feeling of disappointment that his mates didn't rip them open again fade away. He didn't blame them for not wanting to be around him, he was not good company today. Ten minutes later, Marcus snapped his eyes open when his bed curtains were ripped open again. His nose twitched when he smelt the fragrant aromas filling the room. His mouth watered.

"Will you not take no for an answer," snapped Marcus.

"No," said Tarquin serenely.

"Come on," coaxed Chris as he held out a glass of firewhiskey enticingly at Marcus.

"There's roast beef," said Tarquin with a smile.

"I'm not having a good day," said Marcus heavily.

"We know," said Chris. "Eat and have a few drinks, mate. Yell and plot with us to kill and bury your father in the family gardens but at least say something. Don't brood until you freak and do something daft."

"Like kill your father and bury him in the family gardens," said Tarquin.

"As if," snorted Marcus as he got out of bed. "I'd convince one of his 'secretaries' to kill him then obliviate her."

"Oh nice one," said Tarquin as he watched Marcus start to eat. "Maybe you could shell out for one of those hit wizards. They cost a lot though."

"That's what allowances are for," said Chris as he refilled Marcus's glass. They spent the next ten minutes suggesting more outrageous plans to murder Marcus's father.

After Marcus had finished eating, he gazed at both his mates without speaking for a minute. It felt good to have friends like them.

"Thanks," said Marcus. "I feel better."

"Good," said Tarquin. "Now let's get drunk."

Several large glasses of firewhiskey later, Chris started to wiggle his eyebrows at Tarquin.

"What?" asked Tarquin. "Marcus, I think Chris is getting pissed."

"Marcus," said Chris with a large smirk. "Our boy here was snogging a girl this evening."

"Doesn't he do that every evening?" asked Marcus.

"Usually," said Chris, "But this girl was different. She had a Slytherin robe on."

"What?" asked Marcus. "Did you make Moira dress up?"

"Nope," said Chris. "Tarquin was locking lips with Circe in the common room not one hour ago."

"Tarquin," said Marcus seriously. "Imperious is an unforgivable curse."

Tarquin gave Marcus a glare and kicked Chris who had laughed so hard he nearly fell off his chair.

"I'll have you know," said Tarquin. "That she kissed me of her own free will."

"What about Cassandra," asked Marcus.

"I know," moaned Tarquin. "I haven't figured a way out."

"Tarquin mate," asked Chris as he poured each of the boys another glass. "Tell me, do you think Circe's the witch you want to spend the rest of your life with? This is a serious question."

"Merlin," gasped Tarquin. "I mean, I'm only seventeen. But if I had to decide now, and come to think of it I do, a strong maybe. I mean, I feel something entirely different for her than any other girl I've been with. And let me tell you, there have been a lot."

"Maybe?" asked Chris.

"The only wife I can relate to is my mother," said Tarquin. "I do not want a woman like her. Circe is not like her at all. Circe's an heiress, so she doesn't really need my money. She really loves her sister so I'm pretty sure that she'll love her children. So maybe she is the witch for me."

Marcus looked at Tarquin fondly. Tarquin's mother had left some deep emotional scars. Tarquin's womanizing and reluctance to admit he was madly in love with Circe were just symptoms of his insecurity where women were concerned.

"I'll take a maybe," said Chris. "Owl your father and say you changed your mind and you'll take the older girl. Obviously, your dad approves of the family. He might get a grandchild faster too. And the negotiations are not finished."

"It's not that simple," gasped Tarquin.

"Why not," said Chris. "It's all about choices. You have time to make a different choice. Besides, make the money work for you. Her family will probably not care which girl you marry as long as you marry one of them. After all you are old money; they are not. They want what you have - social recognition."

"There are times when you scare me Chris," said Tarquin with a gleam in his eye.

"I was sorted into Slytherin for a reason," said Chris. "Not just because I'm a pureblood with astonishing good looks."

"Some times," said Marcus distantly. "Choices are taken away."

"Not all choices, Marcus,' said Chris quietly. "Screw your father and make him incandescent with rage."

"How," asked Marcus.

"Play professional Quidditch and do not join his company," said Chris. "It will drive him mad. Remember that he hates Quidditch."

"Besides," said Tarquin. "Betrothals, especially pure blood ones, need your signature."

"If I don't sign," said Marcus with a grimace. "I'll be disinherited."

"Choices," said Chris. "Life's all about choices."

"Besides," said Marcus with a distant look. "She broke up with me. I was willing to fight but she wasn't"

"What did she say?" asked Chris carefully. They had avoided the subject of Katie until Marcus brought it up.

"Some bullshit about wanting to end on a good note," said Marcus as his face flushed with anger. "She wants me to happy with this other girl."

"Maybe she does want you to be happy," said Tarquin as his opinion of Katie Bell went up a few notches. "Maybe she just wants to be realistic."

"My father asked her to be his mistress while I was in the washroom during that lunch," said Marcus.

"Merlin," said Chris. "Your father really is a bastard."

"I'll drink to that,' said Marcus. "And I'll drink to the Quidditch cup which we will win next Saturday."

For the rest of night, the boys drunkenly talked Quidditch. Before Marcus fell asleep in the early hours of the morning, the word choices came back to echo in his head and an image of Katie lying in his bed beside him sleeping.

The Great Hall: Sunday morning:

Marcus checked to see if everyone was ready for an extra long practice as he ate his breakfast. He kept his eyes firmly away from the Gryffindor table. As the owl posts swept down the Hall, Marcus ignored the pile of mail by his plate. Chris had to feed Damien.

"Aren't you going to open your mail?" asked Tarquin.

"No," said Marcus.

"Maybe Adrian owled with those tickets," said Chris.

Marcus sighed and idly went through his mail. He picked out the owl from Terrence Higgs and put down the rest. He decided to read it after practice.

"Aren't you going to answer your mail from your family," said Ty as he eyed the owls with the Flint family crest.

"No," said Marcus as he got up and ripped the letters in half and left them on the table. "Time to practice."