"Well that’s...different." He couldn't really see why someone who was brilliant at Quidditch would run off to look after dragons, or any sort of creature in general. Well, maybe it was an interesting job. For Marcus there was nothing that would ever stop him from playing. He had been on his broom with broken bones before, just because he couldn't sit around; he needed to feel the adrenaline and the wind in his face. Maybe he really was obsessed with the sport; he'd choose Quidditch over a girl or a guy to spend the night with anytime, which had caused a couple of break-ups already.
Marcus nodded. "So you can't really give it up, can you?" He was genuinely smiling now, simply because he understood it. If you were a real player, not to mention a team captain, you couldn't just stop loving the sport. Marcus listened and then shook his head. "Teams would have fought over you, Weasley!" He said, showing maybe a bit too much how he respected the other. Any other Gryffindor, he would have tried to talk down, but not Charlie, not with the amount of trophies and medals with his name on them in the trophy room and the games Marcus had seen him play in.
"Better offers than the Falcons?" he laughed. "Well...not from my point of view, for me there's no better team than the Falcons. More successful maybe, but not better." Marcus enjoyed being in the team, the way they worked together, it was important for a good team and he couldn't imagine finding a better one.