Hello everyone! I am so very sorry about the long wait for an update. I swear, it was not my intention to let this story go for so long. But life thankfully has gotten back into a more or less regular pattern. And updates should be more consistent from now on. So here it is my first update in a while. Fair warning, I use some phrases that I picked up in Ireland in this chapter and they require some context for the chapter to make sense.

"Fecking eejit"- Fucking idiot of monumental proportions

"I'm alright Jack," – A sarcastic phrase that roughly means "You know what, I'm good, so fuck you"

It's not a long chapter, and for that I am sorry also. As always read, review and enjoy! If you want to use one of my OC's send me off a PM. Thanks for staying with this fic, it really means a lot to me.

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"Yous deserve each other," Are the first words to leave Lees mouth once Marcus is gone.

"I'm sorry?" Wood asks, his eyebrows knitting together in a look of confusion.

"You heard me," Lee shoots back from across the table.

"Never, in my life have I met a bigger pair of fecking eejits. The cowardly Lion, and the bashful snake."

"What are you talkin about?"

"Och. Well, Marcus will probably want my hide for telling you this," Lee says, pinching the bridge of her nose with the thumb and ring finger of her left hand.

"Then you probably shouldn't –"

"If I don't then you will have to be around an uncomfortable Flint for a week and not know the reason why. Trust me, this is the better alternative. And while Marcus will want my hide, he won't get it. He owes me for being his tutor at Hogwarts."

Oliver just watches the small witch, eyebrows still furrowed, but more in curiosity then confusion.

"My fellow snake has had a crush on you the size of a Ukrainian Iron Belly for years. He ain't ever been the best with spoken words. He still ain't if I'm being honest."

"Marcus Flint," Wood says in a slow voice, emphasizing each part of the name as he does so, "Has a crush on me?"

"Aye, and unless I've become pants at reading people in the last five hours, so do you."

"You're mad."

"As a Fwooper, but then again I already knew that."

"I don't know where you got that idea from, that Marcus Flint of all people-" Butterfinger's tone which had been friendly shifted to affronted fast enough to give the Scotsman whiplash.

"I got it from him, but you know, I can tell when I'm preaching to a brick wall that don't give a flying rats ass what I have to say. I'm alright Jack." And with that, the small which placed her hands on the table and stood up and all but marched to the fireplace.

"So on your feet Scotsman, we have a busy day ahead of us."

"Doing what?" Oliver asks hesitantly even as he rises from his chair.

"We have to get you measured for team robes," Lee responds, in a voice that is perfectly friendly. It worries Oliver, if he's being honest, how fast the small woman goes from being pleasant to terrifying.