Happy Saturday! This story won Second Runner Up for Best Marcus in the Quidditch and Quills Awards. Thank you all for your support of it. And legal disclaimer: I own nothing. Enjoy.

Chapter 35 Surprises

The team emerged to the cheers of family, friends, and diehard fans. The press moved toward the floo banks, stopping here and there to collect a comment from someone. One young reporter, only a few years older than them, stopped in front of Luna, "Miss Lovegood, a question, will Montague's making the team affect your wedding plans?"

Luna shook her head, "No, we're having a small intimate sunset ceremony followed by a formal reception. Everything is in place. My maid of honor and I finished the robes just yesterday," she flashed him a bright airy smile.

Disappointment shone on his face briefly, he schooled his expression when he saw Hermione's fierce glower. He turned his attention to her, "Miss Lestrange, will you be supporting Flint during the tournament?"

"I will, I have meticulously planned my work trips around the matches," she gave him a sickeningly sweet smile. She hated drama llamas and those that feed them.

"I was unaware you had a career."

"I conduct independent research," she answered despite the lack of question in his statement.

"What are you researching?" he looked eager to have a scoop.

"How a sealed estate maintains artifacts in a manor house versus an open site."

He frowned, clearly confused, "And Flint supports you in this?"

"Of course."

Sensing the reporter's danger, even if he didn't, Adrian rushed up and embraced each woman in turn. "Can you believe this? We all made the team."

Hermione patted him on the shoulder, "Congratulations, Ades."

Adrian looked them over having noticed how made up they looked. He leered playfully, "Nora, my love, you are stunning. Run away with me?"

"Are ye outta yer mind?" Nora swatted him. "Oakley'd have yer head."

Adrian slung his arm around her shoulders, leading her away from the reporter, Luna and Hermione following. "Now, see, Barrett is the one I think I could take in a fight."

"Not a chance, mate." Oakley removed Adrian's arm from his wife. "Go find your own woman."

"But yours is nicer," he whined.

"Date better women," retorted Marcus, embracing Hermione. "Ready to celebrate?" he asked her.

"What's on the agenda?"

"The team reserved a room for dinner at some new place in Diagon Alley. Then a short bar crawl to a few places."

"Lead on, can't have your fans thinking I don't support my sweetie." She stepped from his arms and took his hand. They followed the rest of the group out. The team flooed to the restaurant where the owner and manager welcomed them warmly.

The seating arrangements grouped players by positioning, which separated the girls. "Why can't you all do the same thing?" Luna grumbled under her breath. Graham laughed, but said nothing, only kissing her forehead tenderly.

Marcus held out Hermione's chair for her. He sat and gave her a tentative smile, "Sorry."

"For what? Some reporter asked annoying questions, and Luna expects more. I might take her to Greece with me."

"Everything is ready?"

"You doubt my organizational skills?" she raised an eyebrow.

"No, ma'am." He glanced down the table to Nora and Luna at opposite ends.

Hermione patted his hand, "Relax, I understand the seating arrangements."

"Then explain it to me," groused a bottle blonde sitting across the table.

"Olive," whispered Callum Scott harshly.

"What? I don't understand why we have to sit in the middle of the table? No one out there can see my outfit."

"Everyone on the team needs to be comfortable with one another. You never know when someone will be substituted in. And we're going to several pubs, plenty of people will see you there." Olive looked pacified and Callum grateful.

On her other side, Mick Connell laughed, "So, you're the enigmatic Hermione Lestrange."

"I don't know about enigmatic, but I am Hermione Lestrange."

"No one had heard of you before last year. You didn't attend Hogwarts, yet you're quite chummy with people you shouldn't know, like Fred and George Weasley." She looked at him quizzically. "I saw you talking at their shop like old friends."

"Has it ever occurred to you that people have secrets you aren't entitled to, and pasts that are better left unspoken of?"

"I, uh..."

She interrupted his stuttering, "My parents spent most of my life imprisoned for being on the wrong side of a political dispute. They did commit horrible acts and did their time. But while there were in prison can you imagine attending Hogwarts with the last name Lestrange?"

Mick looked down, chastened, "My apologies, in all the recent excitement in the papers about you I forgot how your early life was affected."

"This is your one free pass, spread that around. Also, this get-together is not about me, your focus should be on your teammates, not gossip and rumors."

"Why does he get a free pass?" protested Adrian. "I teased you about those photos in the Prophet and you hexed me."

"You knew better without the warning," she replied curtly.

Olive stared at her with wide eyes. "You seriously don't want any focus on you?"

"Not because of something I wore, or because I'm dating Marcus. Though Luna wants to publish some articles about fun things to do with friends, so those might include clothing." Hermione shrugged.

"But you have an amazing wardrobe!" protested Olive.

"Bet that costs a pretty penny," laughed Tam Harper, "How much that set you back, Flint?"

"Ha," burst Adrian, "he can barely get her to accept a gift if it isn't a gift-giving event."

Hermione glared at him, "I don't want things. I don't need things. Why am I defending myself to you?"

"Everybody wants things," Adrian told her. "It's normal."

Her eyes narrowed into dangerous slits, "I know where you sleep, your mother will let me in, and your house elves like me better than you."

He swallowed nervously, "Point taken, you're right. You don't need stuff."

Marcus chuckled, "Stop playing with Ades, you'll break him."

"Who says I'm playing?" she asked with fake innocence.

"If you were going to retaliate you would never warn him how or when you were coming."

"Very true," she gave him a quick peck on the cheek.

"Please don't help her, she doesn't need your help," Adrian told him.

"I like being on the winning team," Marcus deadpanned. Their section of the table burst into laughter, drawing the attention of the rest of the table. Couch Maupin grinned, "Now that's the kind of camaraderie I want to see." Hermione stuck out her tongue at Adrian, making everyone laugh harder.

"Very mature," he told her.

"I know" she winked at him. The chaser section fell into a comfortable conversation for the rest of the meal. When Luna questioned the laughter she replied, "Adrian."

"Ah," Luna nodded sagely.

At the first stop, Hermione sipped a drink and danced with Luna and Nora on the dance floor as the team spent most of their time greeting fans. Each woman snuck their paramour a pint or two, to the envy of the others. Taking pity on him, Hermione handed Adrian one, too.

Without a planned arrival time at the second stop, word had not yet spread the national team was there, giving the team downtime to enjoy themselves. Mick attempted to tease Marcus and Oakley when he discovered their method of dancing was to stand behind their partners each with his hands on her hips. Marcus responded by pulling Hermione closer, changing her movements from gyrations to grinding. Marcus smirked as Mick acknowledged the genius of it.

Skimming his hands over the skin of her stomach, Marcus spoke into her ear, "Scott's girlfriend is right, you have amazing clothes." In response, she turned her head and kissed him over her shoulder. "Hmm, got to behave, still have one more stop tonight."

"But naughty is more fun," she pouted.

He groaned, "I know." They danced most of the time at the second bar, as the fans seemed to respect their space and relationships.

At the third stop, Hermione took a moment to escape the press of people and noise, seeking refuge on a stool at the quieter side bar. She felt more than saw a presence sit next to her. "Ah, lass, ye've got the right idea." She glanced and identified the newcomer as Oliver Wood. She swallowed her initial panic and wrapped her hands around her glass to hide the shaking her nerves caused. "All the pounding bass is doing me head in." Silently she extracted a bottle of aspirin from her bag and slid it toward him. "Me thanks." He shook out a few pills before sliding the bottle back. They sat nursing their drinks for several minutes before speaking again. "Ye'll have to excuse me manners, I'm just pissed enough to be nosy. But why is a pureblood princess carrying around muggle medications?" As an answer, she turned to face him straight on. Watching the rapid change of expression on his face she cast the muffliato charm. "Holy shite, Hermione!" he lunged forward to hug her. "Where the hell have ye been? How? Why?"

"Ollie, calm down. Through a bunch of circumstances and interactions, the Lestranges blood adopted me. And before you ask, Marcus and I have been together since June."

"So long as he makes ye happy."

"He does. Are you calm enough I can drop the charm?"

"Yeah, sorry about that," he rubbed the back of his neck. "Do you know how Harry is?"

"He's fine, don't worry about him."

"All that fuss is coming to an end, isn't it?"

"It is, and while it won't be a utopia, it won't be a dystopia, either. There is a chance for stability."

"Doesn't sound so bad."

"No, it doesn't," she admitted.

He slapped the bar top lightly, "Thanks for the medicine, Hermione. I'll be seeing you."

"At every World Cup event. Just maybe not with all the other WAGs."

"Can't say I blame you," he chuckled. He waved and exited the side bar.

She finished her drink and followed Oliver's example, going back into the dance club. She located Luna in the flashing colored lights glowing into the darkened room. The lights pulsed in sync with the bass beats of the music. "Have a nice talk with Oliver?" she asked Hermione.

"Yeah, he recognized me but didn't freak out. He was surprised but relaxed about it. Then again, he was ahead of us in school. The early stuff didn't affect him as much, if at all. And he was gone before it heated up."

"You're not wrong," Luna told her.

Graham and Marcus approached, each carrying a drink for his girlfriend. "There you are," Graham handed Luna her drink. He turned to Hermione, "I hear you helped finish all the wedding stuff. Thanks."

"You're welcome. There wasn't much, your mum wants to do most of it, despite all my offers. At this point, we only have to show up for the last fitting two days before the wedding."

"And Mum is loving every second of it." Graham laughed.

Marcus wrapped his arm around Hermione and kissed her temple, "We should be able to leave in about half an hour if you're ready to go."

"Hmmm, stay here and drink with strangers or go home and spend some quality naked time with you before you're busy with training and I go to Greece? Dilemma, dilemma, what to do?" she tapped her chin. "I think I'll take the quality time."

"That was my choice, too," he leered at her playfully.

"But only if it is naked," she pointed a finger at him with a mock stern scowl on her face."

"Absolutely," he promised. Marcus managed to stretch quality time over the next two days. They only emerged because Rodolphus sent an owl requesting Hermione attend dinner at the Hall that evening. "You're not leaving until tomorrow, right?"

"Correct. I will see you tonight. I'm going to double-check I packed everything I need, and make sure Harry started packing anything."

Hermione returned to her new ancestral home with plenty of time to change if the meal had turned formal without her knowledge. She checked with Bellatrix who confirmed her current outfit was acceptable. "Has that upstart Greyback bothered you again?"

"No, but I have been in hiding with Harry or out with Marcus lately."

"Good. Let me know if something changes."

"I, will," Hermione promised.

"Oh, and Roddy hasn't caught on that the Lovegood girl planned a very traditional ceremony. Don't tell him. His reaction will be the highlight of the evening, for me anyway."

"I'll do my best, but no promises."

Hermione found her father and uncle in Rodolphus's study drinking like fish. "Are we celebrating or commiserating?" she asked.
Rabastan continued to stare at the glass in his hands, his face lined with distress. Rodolphus's mouth twitched up briefly at her, "Both, pet. The restoration of our good reputation and the lack of chaos under the new leadership has reminded another family of a martial agreement made two generations ago. The first generation produced only male issue, then we were imprisoned."

She frowned, "If the next words out of your mouth are to inform me of my impending nuptials bad things are about to occur."

"What? No! The family looking to get their hands on the dowry only has a daughter, meaning she's marrying Rabastan."

"Oh," Hermione replied lamely.

"Yes, oh," spat out Rabastan.

"How bad is this? Like age-wise and gold digger behavior?"

Rodolphus answered her, "Not sure exactly, but she's younger than Bas but older than you. As to the gold digger thing, who knows? Not a family we usually socialize with."

"Which in itself says something," Rabastan said, "But by the grace of all that's holy I am not old enough to be her father, or rather I would have been barely old enough."

"Well, that sucks," Hermione patted his shoulder. "So long as she isn't a Parkinson or Bulstrode you should be all right."

"Your support is overwhelming, little witch." Rabastan downed his drink.

"I am not laughing, nor am I throwing a wobbly. I will be cordial and welcoming. Unless she's a cunt. Then I will team up with Mummy Dearest to make the next century as miserable as possible." She kissed his forehead. "Because I love you."

"That is rather sweet of you." Rabastan told her, "I'm hoping for the former, but at least the latter will be entertaining." He gave her a half-smile.

"See, already feeling better," she teased. She left them to their drinking and went in search of educational reading material.

Five minutes to seven the formal floo chimed announcing the bride and her parents. Rost, the head elf, escorted them to the salon the Lestrange family waited for them. A large blustery blond man with long bushy muttonchops entered followed by a sour-looking heavyset woman. Their daughter looked familiar, but Hermione couldn't place her. Hermione followed Bellatrix's lead and remained seated when the men stood in greeting. Rodolphus shook the man's hand. "Welcome, allow me to introduce my wife, Bellatrix, and our daughter, Hermione. You know Rabastan. Bella, Hermione, this is Roger Clearwater and his wife, Sarah, and their daughter, Penelope." Bellatrix nodded regally.

"Hello," Hermione dimpled at their guests. She remembered the girl now, a Ravenclaw prefect that dated Percy Weasley. They had been petrified by the basilisk together. She wondered if the older girl would remember her.

Rabastan greeted his fiancee and escorted her to the dining room. To break the awkward silence, he began asking about her interests and career. "I manage a herbology greenhouse in Godric's Hollow, it doubles as a muggle gardening shop."

"How interesting, was Herbology your favorite subject at school?"

Before Penelope could answer, her mother interrupted, "She'll be stopping all that work nonsense when you marry, of course. A wife's place is at home. She needs to focus on taking care of her husband and children." Penelope's face fell.

"Is that what you want to do?" asked Bellatrix.

"She'll do as is expected of her," Roger sniffed.

"Excuse me, I believe I addressed Penelope," Bellatrix glared at him. "I want her to answer."

Penelope looked at her future sister-in-law hesitantly, "I do enjoy my job, but accept that I may have to step down to take care of the home."

"Why? Bas is a second son, as his wife you have few responsibilities at the manor, and nanny elves for the times when you are not home."

Roger and Sarah briefly glared at her until she raised an eyebrow reminding them who they were looking at. Deciding to let Penelope know both Lestrange women were in her court, Hermione drew their attention to her by taking a sip of her water. "And according to the martial agreement, Penelope will conduct herself by the customs of the Lestrange family. And Merlin knows we don't devote every waking moment to this household. Nor does anyone expect us to."
Rodolphus chuckled, "No, we do not."

Rabastan addressed Penelope, "Work if you want to work, quit if you want to quit. The Hall has extensive grounds, you could create here. There may even be a greenhouse somewhere."

"There is, probably needs some work, but there is one at the end of the south lawn," Rodolphus told him.

"See? We can accommodate anything you want."

"Happiness doesn't matter here, just that the wedding takes place," Roger told them.

"And you get your money and business contracts renewed?" asked Hermione with fake sweetness.

"How do you know about that?" demanded Roger.

"I can read. I reviewed the contract, so I would know what to expect. Have you reviewed it?"

"Of course," he puffed himself up indignantly.

"And you agree with everything therein?" she asked innocently. Her father and uncle watched with interest, and Bellatrix beamed with pride.

"I do indeed."

"And you agree with every stimulation?"

"Certainly."

"Okay then." Hermione nodded. She turned back to Penelope, "What house were you in at Hogwarts? Most of my friends were in Slytherin."

"I was in Ravenclaw," she quietly admitted.

"Oh, my friend, Luna Lovegood was in Ravenclaw, do you know her?"

"Not really, she was several years younger than me, I think."

Sarah diverted the conversation back to the impending nuptials. "The sooner the wedding takes place the better. We're thinking early April. There may need to be some landscaping to accommodate that."

"Why would we landscape?" asked Rabastan.

"The contract states the wedding will take place here at the Hall," Hermione reported. "Where the couple will be making their home afterward." Sarah nodded a predatory gleam in her eyes, no doubt envisioning future celebrations hosted by her daughter in her elegant home. Penelope stared at her plate, clearly uncomfortable with the proceedings.

"Doesn't it usually take longer to organize weddings?" asked Rabastan looking a little wide in the eyes.

"Only to help keep costs down, and if you have to rent a hall. With enough money you can arrange anything," Sarah assured him.

Hermione and Bellatrix attempted to change the subject repeatedly, only to have one of the elder Clearwaters return to the subject of the expensive wedding they intended to demand as soon as possible. Once they departed the family retreated for drinks.

"That could have been worse," Rabastan collapsed onto a chair. "I think I need to get to know her without her family about."

"Agreed," Rodolphus sighed, "this wedding is going to cost more than the dowry."

"Most likely, but we're not paying for it." Hermione took a drink. "The bride's family is responsible for the cost of the wedding and reception." She paused in thought, "I think the Clearwaters were hoping the bride would be a Lestrange."

Rabastan nodded, "The last two generations have been the first in three centuries to not have a female. You broke the slump."

Hermione shrugged, "So let them go crazy spending money, they agreed to all the stipulations. None of the backlash is going to affect Penelope, by the time the first bill arrives she'll

be a Lestrange, and we protect our own." She flashed Bellatrix a feral grin.

Her mother laughed, "I adore your vicious streak. Do you have any plans, or will we be winging this?"

"First, to let them spend themselves into the poor house. Second, to ensure Penelope gets the things she wants for a wedding."

"Ugh, this house is going to be filled to the brim with children in a few years," groused Bellatrix. "I didn't much care for children when I was a child."

Hermione considered it for a moment, "Actually, I've been considering living at Courtenay Ave, Marcus is a second son, so he isn't expected to stay home, and Esme's current boyfriend is estranged from his, so Merrick might have them stay there. But it saves a little face for him not having to move into my family's estate."

Bellatrix nodded, "Giving more space for the remaining family to not feel overrun by small children and then teenage hormones. Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"So any other nasty surprises in the contract?"

"Let's see, the Clearwaters get a one-time lump sum, and you renew several business contracts for two decades. The bride joins the family and is under their customs. The bride's family pays for the wedding. The manner in which the children are educated is to be determined by the groom's family. At the end of the two decades, the expectation is that the children from the union would be males old enough to join those businesses and the relationship would continue."

"What are the contracts?" asked Rodolphus.

Hermione looked at him, "Did you not read the contract, either?"

"I skimmed it enough to know the basics, a mistake, I know."

"Discounted shipping to America and to only use their potion ingredients at the three apothecaries the Lestranges own in Wales."

"The shipping fleet is nonexistent and those communities mostly do their own brewing."

Hermione shrugged, "Not our problem, those are the stipulations. They really should have read the contract." She looked at Rabastan, "Please make an effort. This is horribly unfair to Penelope, and divorcing and making her go back to her family is out of the question."

"Agreed, my romantic skills are rusty, but I'll make the attempt. Lucius and Narcissa prove an arranged marriage can be happy if you put the work in. Unless she's got some side lover she doesn't want to leave behind, then we'll discuss that between ourselves."

"Fair," Rodolphus saluted him with his drink.