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Summary
Marcus Flint began his broom racing career under the coaching of Jan Orion in 1992. Three years later, he graduated Hogwarts with the longest tenure as Slytherin Quidditch Captain since the beginning of the century. In 1997, he was living out of the track locker room and on the couch of a teammate, his world in shambles as war reigned over Magical Britain. That same year, he won his first World Championships.
He is long and lithe, shoulders broad but arms and cheekbones sunken with veins and sinew. He’s doing fine, he says. He has his sport. Oliver doesn’t ask the details of what being young and bigoted and Slytherin meant in the years before the millennium turned; it’s taboo. He doesn’t expect it’s good.
Besides, Flint is right; he does have his sport. Except when he doesn’t.