"You sound just like my own father does," Well, like he had, the last time Marcus had talked to him, that is. Marcus' father hadn't been too fond of the muggle-support they gave the mud-bloods at school; Marcus himself hadn't enjoyed it too much as well. This reminded him why his father liked to surround himself with people like Malfoy here; they shared his opinions. While Marcus didn’t show a particular interest in politics, he did have his opinion on things, especially blood-purity.
"Yes, I'm doing just fine. If it weren't for bloody Puddlemere..." He said and a flash of anger appeared in his eyes at the thought of Puddlemere and Wood and that Falcons were only second best. They weren't second best, Puddlemere had just been lucky so far. "Most of the time it's practice, so I can't complain. I get to do what I'm bets at, could I really ask for anything more?" He shouldn’t think about Wood and his team, it just pissed him off. Next time he got his hands on Wood…it wouldn’t end pretty for the Keeper, that was sure.