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Marcus didn’t want to be at the party. He would, in fact, rather be anywhere but at the party. He would take cleaning the locker room after football practise over having to attend this stupid inter-house holiday party. Sometimes he really hates this boarding school.His cousin, Pansy, had decided to whip out the whiskey, or so it seemed, because he watched with disdain and his peers, family members (admittedly just Pansy) and friends started pouring shots. If it were any other, slytherin only party he would be all over the alcohol, but right at this moment he wasn’t in the mood for partying. Oliver was here.Three months ago Marcus would have been ecstatic that Oliver and him were at the same party, the alcohol would have given them a cover for being friendly, the wouldn’t have had to be so secretive. That was three months ago. Because were it three months ago Oliver and Marcus would still have been in a relationship. But it wasn’t three months ago, and they were no longer in a relationship. Marcus really fucking hated this party. And the couples already getting down and dirty were really not helping. (Curse Pansy and her nerdy, curly-haired girlfriend. She had That Girl flung sideways across her lap, lips locked together. Maybe Marcus should pay more attention to his peers and their names, because referring to his favourite cousin’s girlfriend as ‘That Girl’ would probably get him slapped. Pansy was really fierce.)He looked around and, fuck really? Adrian and Terrence has been caught under the mistletoe and were snogging with such fervour that he really felt bad for the witnesses who were closer to the door. Adrian might be his best friend but right now he would be alright with punching him. Fuck, maybe he was more torn up about this breakup than he wanted to admit. His eyes searched the room for Oliver without his permission, sweeping the common room of his least favourite school house (and yeah, that’s only because Oliver is a part of this house and now that they’re exes, well, isn’t it some kind of duty to hate everything about him? House included?).“Marcus~”He heard a drunken whine come from the right of him. He slowly turned his head to see Pansy sidling up to him, hand intertwined with That Girl.“Hermione won’t keep kissing me because her best friend - Ron, not Harry - is sad because his boyfriend, Viktor, is overseas in Bulgaria~”Hermione, that was her name!“Yeah, Alright? What do you want me to do about it, Pans?” Marcus couldn’t stop the sarcasm from leaking out while talking to his drunk cousin and her girlfriend. Come to think of it, he couldn’t stop the sarcasm ever.“Ugh! You’re mean and we’re leaving!”Marcus rolled his eyes. He let his eyes rest on Oliver again, but this time he was noticed.Oliver was watching him. Marcus balked, quickly dragging his eyes away from his ex to look at literally anyone else. Fuck. He couldn’t let Oliver know that he was still hurting over the break up. Marcus all but ran to the side of someone he vaguely knew, taking in their appearance to try and place a name to a face. Dirty blond hair, kind smile, sparkling grey eyes, yellow and black tie. C something. Cedric. That was it! Marcus felt a small amount of pride creep up his chest and into his throat at remembering the others name.“Listen, Cedric,” He said, voice gruff from the nights disuse, “this is going to sound weird and I can’t explain why but would you hold my hand so he gets jealous? ” Marcus blushed slightly at requesting such a strange thing from a boy he had spoken to maybe once before, and threatened probably countless times over the inter-house football matches.Cedric looked vaguely confused but acquiesced, quickly grabbing Marcus’s hand in his and starting up a soft spoken conversation.“You know, Marcus, this might prove challenging to explain to my boyfriend, considering I don’t even know why I’m going along with it.” Cedric said, eyeing that one red-headed gryffindor prefect.Marcus faltered. He didn’t want to cause anyone’s break up. He knew how it felt. Break ups, that is.“Fuck. I’m sorry. It’s- Well, my ex is here and I don’t want him to know that I’m still super fucking into him.”Cedric looked thoughtful.“If your ex is Oliver Wood, then he looks mighty jealous so I think you may well have succeeded.”Fuck.“Fuck.”Marcus tore himself away, eyes once again searching for Oliver, and, when they caught, he made his way over. He sank down onto the ratty old couch, a respectable distance between the two boys. He was sat uncomfortably, back straight and rigid like a pole. He was afraid.“You and Diggory looked close,” Oliver’s voice sounded somewhat strained. Almost right, but not quite there.Marcus grunted in something resembling agreement.“It’s funny,” Oliver continued. “I could have sworn he had a thing with Perce. And I didn’t realise you had moved on yet.”Marcus turned to face Oliver, opening his mouth to reply when suddenly there was a yell from the left of them. They looked over and saw one the Weasley twins pointing at them.“Mistletoe!” Was shouted. They looked up and, sure as shit, there was a sprig of the poison plant above them. They looked at each other, then the mistletoe, then back at each other. Then they looked at the Weasley.“Absolutely not,” Marcus said quickly.“What, Flint, you don’t want to kiss your mortal enemy under some mistletoe?” Piped up Harry, his head on the shoulder of his girlfriend, Luna, mischievous smile dancing across his face.“Remind me to give him extra laps on Monday,” Marcus heard Oliver mumble.“I’m not snogging Wood.”“Why not?”Marcus’s head snapped around to stare at Oliver. It seems everybody’s heads snapped around to stare at Oliver.He shrugged. Marcus only just noticed the wash of pink over his face and the empty beer bottles littered around him.“You’re drunk, Wood.”“Yeah, and you’re pretty.”“Three months.”No one else around them understood the significance of those words but he and Oliver did. Oliver paused, and then again he said, “why not?”Marcus grabbed him by the back of the neck and dragged him in, kissing him thoroughly under the mistletoe, in front of their friends, family members (Pansy), and peers.No one understood the significance of ‘three months’, not until many years later when the story, from the beginning and up until the party was told again, this time at the altar.