Chapter four: Hermione

April Fool's day:

"What is she doing here?" Hermione closed her eyes as she heard the haughty voice of Lavender Weasley behind her.

It was the twins birthday and she'd come by for a quick afternoon visit. Fred had told her that they were expected at the Borrow for dinner, so she had thought it unlikely to run into one of the others at the shop. Last of all Lavender, who normally avoided to be anywhere near the two troublemakers, after she had been at the end of their jokes ones too often.

"The question is, what are you doing here? Other as Hermione you weren't invited!" George angry voice could be heard.

"Oi, don't talk to my wife like that!" Of course Ron had to be with her.

Hermione wished a hole would open and swallow her. Until a minute ago, she had laughed and had a good time with the twins and their wives. Now she felt as if a Dementor had sucked all the joy out of her, leaving her vulnerable and weak. She knew it was ridiculous. She'd faced Death Eaters, when she had been a mere girl, but she couldn't find the strength in her to confront Ron.

"Maybe your wife should learn, to keep her mouth shut. Than nobody would feel compelled to tell her off!" Katie Weasley, George wife, hissed at Ron. Hermione wasn't sure why but the former Gryffindor chaser, hated Lavender nearly as much as she herself.

Without turning around she spoke up before the situation could get worse.

"Don't worry guys, I wanted to leave anyway."

"Hermione you don't have to go. It's them who aren't welcome."

"Oi-"

"Shut up, Ron!" Both twins interrupted their younger brother.

With a forced smile she shook her head. "No it's okay, really. I will stop by sometime this week. Enjoy your birthday. Bye!" Ignoring Lavender's muttered insult she hurried out of the shop. It wasn't before she walked down a far end of Diagon Alley that she could breath normally again.

She didn't pay much attention to her surroundings, simply hurried towards the next Apparation point so it was no surprise that she crashed into another person. A tall and well muscled person. Her lithe, slim body had no chance against that and she stumbled backwards. She would have fallen, not to gracefully on her behind, hadn't it been for the pair of hands that steadied her.

"I'm so sorry," she stuttered as she finally found her balance again. "I wasn't looking where...Mr. Flint?" Surprised she looked at the tall wizard in front of her and felt herself flush as she realized that he still had his hands around her, which left them in close proximity. Close enough for her to notice that he smelled extremely good. A very masculine mix of leather of wood, which she found quite intoxicating. He noticed her flush and the position they were in and hastily stepped back.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes thank you, though I should be asking you that question." Of all the Wizards in the world, she had to run into him. Something about his presents made her incredible nervous. Not in a bad way, quite the opposite in fact. That didn't happen often and Hermione wasn't sure how to handle her attraction for the man. He had popped up in her thoughts more than once over the last few days, ever since her visit at his home. She suddenly noticed that Ewan, wasn't with him and asked him after the boy.

"He is with his playgroup. Every Thursday they have a special afternoon. I just dropped him off."

Hermione was surprised that someone like him, who was clearly raised in Pureblood tradition would put his son inside a playgroup. They were becoming quite popular in the Wizarding World, but the old families usually preferred private tutoring. But she didn't want to appear rude so held her curiosity in check.

"Would you like to have a coffee with me?"

Blinking she starred at the man. It took her a moment to realize that he asked her a question and even a bit more until his words sunk in. By then he was taking her silence the wrong way.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have..."

"No!" She hastily said. "I mean yes. I would like to have a coffee with you, Mr. Flint."

A barely visible smile formed on his lips as he offered her his arm. "Just Markus. Mr. Flint was my father and he is nobody I like to remember."

Hermione nodded and allowed him to walk her into one of the small cafés, hesitant to continue on that note. "Where is he now?" She finally asked.

"Dead." The way he said it, she knew it was better to let it rest.

"So tell me a bit about yourself. If I remember correctly you were a few years ahead of me at Hogwarts. What did you do afterwards?" She asked after the waitress took their order and left.

He seemed surprised about her question, but answered her anyway, as he pulled the chair out for her. Although most of her Slytherin friends showed the same flawless manners, she always enjoyed to be at the receiving end of them. It made her feel special and cared for.

"I played Quidditch for some time."

"You mean as a profession?"

His lips twitched slightly. "You don't know much about Quidditch, do you?" Other as Ron or Harry, who always seemed insulted by her lack of interest in the sport, Marcus was clearly amused.

"No. Other as my friends I never saw what the fuss was about. They tried to explain their fascination to me a million times, but I still can't comprehend why someone would risk getting hit by a budger while he is riding a broom." She shuddered just thinking about falling from a broom.

"It's like a more exciting game of chess."

"Chess?" Hermione asked in disbelieve.

"Yes Quidditch is all about strategy and winning, just with more adrenaline!"

None of her friends had ever explained it like that. Normally they started to loose themselves in discussing some ridiculous named moves and stories of old games. But nobody ever took the time to really explain the game to her. She knew the basic but the way Marcus described it, there was a lot more to it and she told him so. "You make it sound interesting."

"It can be. Maybe you would like to come to a match with me? Ewan has his Quidditch lessons Friday afternoon. They are playing with safety brooms and soft balls and the trainer still explains all the rules to them. You might find that more informative than some books."

A slight blush instantly coloured her cheeks. Was he asking her out? It was an invitation to his sons Quidditch lessons, but still. "I would like that, very much."

"I'm sure Ewan would be thrilled." Hermione sighed inwardly. Of course he wasn't asking her out that way. "You were all he was talking about for the hole weekend.."

Even though she was somewhat disappointed that he didn't ask her because he wanted to see her again, she was pleased none the less. She adored the boy and had enjoyed every minute during her visit at their home.

"He is such a sweet boy. You and his mother did a wonderful job raising him!" She praised him but instantly noted that she had said something wrong. Sadness and anguish clouded his face with such an intensity that she felt her heart clench.

"Ewan's mother died during his birth."

Inwardly she cursed herself for her careless comment. Without thinking twice about it, she laid her hand on his arm and squeezed it gently. "I'm sorry. It wasn't my intention to bring up hurtful memories."

"You couldn't know."

"Sill-" Before she could apologize again, the waitress arrived with their order and interrupted the uncomfortable moment.

"What about you?" Marcus changed the spotlight as soon as the woman left. "Don't get me wrong, you are damned good at your job, its just that I expected you to work at the Ministry. Changing the Wizarding world from the inside, run for Minister of Magic, or something."

"You and everybody else." She admitted. "But after the war, I wanted to do help people and I wasn't so sure if I would accomplish that while working at the Ministry. Our world is much to unwieldy sometimes. Change comes frustratingly slowly sometimes and I," shrugging she searched for the right words. " I don't know, I guess I'm not patient enough for it. Besides I'm muggleborn and prejudices still run deep."

Marcus nodded, obviously having no illusions about their world either. "I might be pureblood but due to my families openly supporting the Dark Lord, I'm not treated kindly."

"But didn't you change sides or something?" Hermione asked aghast. "I think I remember someone from the Order mentioning it. You spied for our side and fought on our side."

Shrugging he looked at her for a moment before he answered. "That might be true, but people see this," at that he pushed the sleeve of his shirt upwards and revealed lightly faded Dark Mark. "And automatically label you as evil. Most of the time I can't really blame them as I might have done the right thing in the end but that doesn't make me a good person!"

Hermione wanted to argue. In her mind he couldn't be such a bad guy if he was willing to risk his life and spy for the Order, but the shake of his head let her know that her protest wasn't favoured.

"I live with it, one day might even make peace with it. I'm just worried about Ewan. I don't want people to treat him badly just because he wears my name. That's why I left England after the trials."

Hermione was friends with enough Slytherins to know that he was right. They certainly weren't choirboys but Hermione was realistic enough to understand that they had been children and followed the lead of their parents. None of them had clearly decided for themselves which sides they were on, it was decided for them. Much like Draco was raised in the believes of his father, Ronald was raised in that of his family. Harry's role was clear from the start, just like her own given her muggle heritage.

It wasn't right to judge people like Marcus for what their parents had forced them to do, but she knew better then most how quick people were willing to believe the worst without asking questions to verify their opinion.

"What made you come back?"

"You can't run away forever." He didn't look entirely convinced by his own words. "McGonagall was searching for a replacement. Obviously her newly hired Quidditch teacher decided that children are far too much trouble and left."

"You mean mid-term?" She couldn't help but sound scandalised. It was only Quidditch, but still! How could anyone be so irresponsible and abandon your position.

"Apparently. Logically she is in dire need for a replacement and I was asked."

"Did you agree?"

"Eventually." He must have seen her affronted look because he laughed. "It was no easy decision. I love Quidditch, but I'm not exactly a role-model. Not sure if I'm good at teaching."

"I'm sure you will be great and the children will respect you. Think about your son," she remained him and thought about the worshipping glance in Ewan's eyes as he told her about his daddy. "He adores you." His love for his son was clearly written on his face but he quickly shrugged it off. Slytherins weren't too comfortable with showing emotion which had taken some time getting used to. She grew up with boys who seldom troubled themselves with hiding them and who had no qualms making their moods known.

Over time she had learned to cherish the ways of her snake friends.

"So how does it come that you aren't married to Potter's sidekick and waste your power and brain to raise his brood?"

Hermione could hear that he intended to tease her and get a bit information about her without sounding too interested but she wasn't able to hide her emotions as well as a Slytherin could. Regardless of how much time she spend with them. For a second she was surprised but than she remembered that he had just come back to England and probably never read those awful articles.

"We didn't work out." Wasn't that the understatement of the year? "He's married now to Lavender Brown. Working on the brood." She added not without bitterness. But she wasn't willing to ruin her afternoon with talks about Ron and Lavender. Hermione really liked Marcus, even if she didn't know him very well, but telling him about her past relationship was a sue way to make him run away or worse; pity her.

He would find out soon enough anyway. Better enjoy his company until then. It wasn't any day she had an attractive, interesting wizard to spend the afternoon with, though she could get used to it.

No harm in dreaming a little bit, Mione.

TBC