Life changes. People leave, they come, they go, and life stops for no one. Sometimes faking a smile is much easier than having to explain why you're sad. Intrinsically, Hermione knows there's no point in being upset and letting herself be carried away by a sea of emotions pertaining to Marcus's move to Australia. There's nothing she can do about it. But telling that to her heart is a different story because tears come from the soul and not the brain.

So that's how she found herself in an unused space of the castle sitting and crying her eyes out. And like the good friend he is, Harry came along and sat beside her, offering comfort. She cried in a weak, distressed voice, "He's leaving for the quidditch league in Australia, Harry. And I'm just so sad. It hurts."

All Harry could do was put his arm around her for a side hug. He knows the feeling of missing someone, as he's still reeling from Sirius's death. They sat like that for a long time, her crying and him thinking. Ironically, Ron and Lavender entered the space giggling and looking loved up. That set Hermione off. Through the use of Avis Oppungo, she conjured a flock of birds and set them on the annoying couple. After that encounter, they stayed away from the witch. Although Hermione still had to hear all about Won-Won at night through the simpering of "Puke" Brown, as the unhappy Gryffindor has started calling the girl.

Time moves slowly when a loved one is gone. And weeks turned into months. But the passing of time doesn't lessen the blow or the falling of teardrops on pillowcases. Just when the heartache seemed to be the greatest, December came. Anticipation began to mount because Marcus would be home for Yule. It also meant Professor Slughorn's Christmas party was coming up.

Even though her guy wasn't there in the flesh (or on the continent), Hermione continued sending him notes through the locket, and he would respond promptly. That's been a godsend- the locket. Without it, the witch thinks she'd go stir-crazy, not having a direct link to him. One of the more memorable notes conveyed his displeasure at her taking someone other than himself to the Slug Club Christmas party.

He particularly hated that it was Cormic McClaggen. Part of the letter told her to Be careful of him. He's very handsy with the ladies, like the gropy Giant Squid (if you know what I mean). If he tries to do anything inappropriate, let me know, and I'll send him an unmarked box of puking pastilles. And when I get home, I'll give him a fist to the face.

That made the brunette smile. Even in a different country, Marcus would find ways to protect her. He always has her back and interests at heart, no matter what. Hermione also wishes her man could have been with her at the party because it was an unmitigated disaster. The whole evening McClaggen did nothing but talk about himself considerably. Hermione is now informed of everything she never wanted to know about the older Gryffindor.

He also bragged about his "outstanding" quidditch abilities, which made the witch smirk because no matter how well he thinks he plays, no one at Hogwarts can compete with Marcus's skills. When he wasn't talking, the repulsive wizard was precisely as her boyfriend warned- handsy. His romantic predilections were much too forward for Hermione's taste, and really she has no taste anymore because the only man's romance she longs for is her own man's. So, she spent the majority of the night talking to Harry and Luna, trying to avoid Cormic. The blonde Ravenclaw complemented her peach dress and reminded her friend, "Don't drink the punch, Hermione. It makes the Yule humperdumplings go bonkers. The little baffy bugs love Christmas punch, you see. It sets them off. They'll fly around your head and try to go up your nose in order to catch your Christmas spirit."

All Hermione could say was, "Thank you, Luna. I've taken a mental note of that." Then she swiftly hid from McClaggen before he could spot her.

When the party was finally finished, a sigh of relief washed over the intelligent witch. She and Luna walked back to their respective houses together. They talked about Christmas break and made plans to visit one another. Once Hermione returned to the tower, she began packing her trunk carefully and neatly. That was how Lavender, Parvati, and Fay Dunbar found her.

While packing, Hermione was resolute in her sarcasm. Because what a bad day this has turned out to be with the entrance of those nitwits. The three sat on Lavender's bed and started discussing Christmas and their favorite topic, mainly boys. When they got to the boys, the girls suspiciously gave Hermione the side-eye. Loudly Lavender commented in a snide simpering tone, "I'm SO glad I have a boyfriend this year. It feels great to be dating someone. I feel sorry for those who are single, like you, Hermione. It must be disheartening not to receive any extra gifts."

The idiot said it as if that's all Christmas was about- presents. Rolling her eyes and keeping them on the hidden box at the bottom of her trunk, which contained one of Marcus's gifts, Hermione remarked blandly, "Yes, it's so depressing. I think I shall crawl into a hole and never come out until Yule is over. I'll ignore all my family and friends for the lack of boyfriend's gifts."

Lavender huffed out a breath of annoyance. "Oh, Hermione, must you be so... so... snarky. I only meant that you could have a boyfriend if you tried. You're not horrible looking anymore since your hair is tamed. You could have someone just as good as my Won-Won."

There it was. The one statement that made Hermione want to take her pillow and bop the twit upside her head. Of all the things Lavender could have said, that was the wrong one. So, the tamed-hair witch sat on her knees, staring at her trunk, thinking of how to respond.

On the one hand, she could say she's dating someone, which is the truth. On the other, those facts could get herself and Marcus into more hot water, mainly when Puke Brown spreads it around like wildfire. Instead, Hermione did the unexpected and voiced a saccharine sweet, satirical, "Thank you, Lavender. I'll remember that advice on my way to becoming a powerful woman."

To which the idiot responded, "You're welcome. My advice is free any time of day."

As the witches began their nightly sleep preparations, Hermione wondered if Lavender was really that shallow. She determined that the girl, indeed, was that shallow. The box may be lovely, but the inside is empty- a beautifully wrapped box of nothing. And that's the truth of Puke Brown. Once Hermione finished packing and set her wand to play soothing ocean waves, her thoughts turned to a different subject. It's one she hasn't cared to think about too much, primarily what she'll do to protect those she loves in the eventuality of a war.

It's easy to see the writing on the wall. Voldemort won't go down without a fight, and neither will the Order of the Phoenix. With the tactics the death eaters are using lately, it's Hermione's duty to take care of her parents. As her eyes grew heavy with sleep and her thoughts whirled around her head, tough choices were on the horizon. And her emotions are making it difficult for her to come to a reasonable answer. But first, she has to get through Christmas.

The Christmas holiday felt rushed this year. Time spent with her parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins wasn't nearly enough. But the witch treasured every minute and stored the memories in her heart. Then there was Marcus. He couldn't come to England because of a match the day after Yule. That made the holiday a little more dismal than in years past, but all wasn't lost.

The day after Christmas, Hermione used the portkey her boyfriend sent her to travel to his new home. She landed on a beach somewhere in Perth, where Marcus said he'd found a house. Her caramel eyes took in the scenery and were amazed at what she saw. Crystal-clear blue water, white sand, and humidity greeted her. It's a far cry from England's snowy, cold winter. Immediately her hand went to the crossbody bag around her shoulder to retrieve a hair tie, which secured her thick brown hair in a messy bun.

With honestly no idea of the direction to go, Hermione shrunk her luggage and fit it into the crossbody. Then she took off to a clearing up ahead. That's where she found a quaint cottage that looked like it could be a cute bed and breakfast. Topsy popped out and tugged at his ears. The worried elf noted in his tiny voice, "Oh, mistress. Topsy is being so sorry not to fetch you. Master Marcus had to leave early, and Topsy was cleaning getting everything ready for mistress's arrival. Mistress must being hungry. Come, and Topsy will feed Missy Mione."

The elf directed her inside. Once she took off her purse, Topsy snapped his fingers, and it flew off to the main suite. While the elf got the table ready for lunch, Hermione examined the cottage. She noted the house was a lovely British colonial-style residence with a double veranda, six bedrooms, and a wrap-around porch complete with outdoor ceiling fans.

The inside has lots of natural light due to the cathedral ceilings and many glazed windows and doors. The coral stone pavers, seascape art, decorative rattan pieces, and white-washed wood create a beachy vibe. Truly, the witch feels as though she's stepped into one of those home-decorating magazines her mother loves to read.

But what took her breath away was the outside. The back of the cottage housed a 40-foot pool, including unobstructed ocean views. It's marvelous! Topsy found her observing the idyllic acreage. She took his spindly hand and gushed, "This is one of the most beautiful beach homes I've ever seen."

Topsy agreed by saying, "Master chose well. He did." Then the friendly elf tugged on her hand, pulling her into the quaint dining room. Though smaller than the one at the chateau, it's large enough for six people to gather comfortably. On the wooden table were all kinds of charcuteries with cheese, meats, fresh bread, fruits, dips, and jellies. Simple but filling.

Once Hermione was finished, Topsy told her, "Master being wanting mistress at the stadium. Master tells Topsy to apparate her there. Mistress not being needing anything."

Nodding, the witch went to grab her crossbody from the main suite and noticed a silver picture frame on the dresser. Picking it up, the witch smiled. It's one they had taken on a picnic in Hyde Park. They're smiling big full smiles and waving at the camera. At just the last second, they turn for a kiss. That's one thing she loves about capturing moments with magical cameras. You can see the whole picture, like Marcus's besotted look on his face.

After freshening up her hair and giving herself a spritz of perfume, Hermione returned to Topsy's side. The loyal elf took his Master's girlfriend's hand and popped them in front of the player's entrance at Wombat Stadium. He bid her goodbye and popped back out. The observant witch saw a few glamorous-looking women speak with security and enter. So, she wandered that way, too, wearing her jeans and plain white t-shirt.

Stepping up to the guards, she stated, "Hermione Granger, guest of Marcus Flint." The suspicious security guards checked the list, flipped a few pages, found her name, checked her photo id, then waved her through the gate.

Inside it was much the same as any other quidditch stadium she'd been at, with pennants, posters, food booths, souvenir stations, and information about the team's history and such. Hermione took the lift to the player's box, where she hoped to see one friendly face in Sheridan Mulvaney.

Unfortunately, the minute the elevator opened, she was surrounded by a sea of superficial beauty. Everywhere the petite girl looked, fake boobs, botox, halter tops, mini skirts, and caked-on makeup devoured the space. It was like being back in her Hogwarts dorm room, which was nauseating.

While the sincere witch put on a pleasant face, none of the women tried to make conversation with her. That's alright because the brave young lady wasn't there for them. No. Her intent was for Marcus alone, although the sting of being snubbed was pungent. As she thumbed through the player's guide, her keen ears overheard the haughty women speak, and their discussion was interesting.

It started with, "Did you see the inside page of Teen Witch Magazine and page three of Smart and Chic?"

Most of the women said no, but one admitted she had. Apparently, a copy of Teen Witch, which Hermione wondered why these twenty and thirty-somethings were reading a teen magazine, was produced. Then the women commented on what they saw, with the highlight being, "Oh, look! There's the new chaser Marcus Flint. He's pictured with Lucas Haney's sister, Bridget. They make a cute couple and have that I just had sex glow, you know."

Those words did not sit well with Hermione. A knot in her stomach formed while she pretended not to listen and turn the pages of the player's guide. And it grew bigger after seeing another of Marcus's old teammates in the book, Hot Hands Haney. That only made her want to see his sister's appearance, who caused such a stir among the artificial witches. From the corner of her eye, she saw one of the women leave the magazine at the food and drink table.

While everyone watched the player introductions, Hermione watched her boyfriend look smug on the arm of Bridget Haney. The girl just happened to be a blonde bombshell who looked like one of the glossy, plastic women in the room. What made matters worse was the fact the picture had been taken two days ago. That caused the Gryffindor to pause. If he had time to go out on the town with some big-chested bimbo, then he had the time to come home for Christmas.

That sent a fire of a different kind into her chest. It propelled her to take her purse and follow her feet out of the player's box. Walking to the lift and out of the stadium, Hermione had no idea where she was going. But it didn't matter because one thing was certain she was not staying for the game. Unable to apparate without a license posed a problem. What's a mad witch to do?

At just that moment, a magical taxi appeared. The wizard driving it asked, "Where to?"

That's a good question. There are many places the young lady would like to see and explore, having just arrived in the country. But first, "Muggle Sydney," she declared. Getting angry doesn't solve anything, but shopping always does. So that's what Hermione did, spent her Christmas money on unnecessary items and took in Sydney for all it's worth. And it gave her time to reflect.

It was at the fragrance counter of a particular department store she realized something. A relationship is like two different perfumes. Each scent smells good on its own, but if you combine them with all the flavors and ingredients mingling... Well, you've got one unique fragrance that's all your own. But if they stop mingling, then the aroma loses its appeal. And that's when the fragrance quits being perfume and becomes a vapor, which is no good.

It's also when Hermione realized she needs something chocolate. The girl at the counter directed her to try Hugh's Chocolate, an Australian original, the next shop over. She did, and it hit the spot because who needs a guy when you can have chocolate? Chocolate never goes out on the town with someone who doesn't belong to them. No. Chocolate stays with the person it's meant to be with, and then it stays on the thighs and hips much longer.

After spending time thinking, taking in the city, and formulating future plans, the witch thought it might be good to return to the beach cottage. At a loss for how to get there, she held her packages tight and ducked into a quiet side street. She did the only thing she knew how. "Topsy," the witch called out.

Upon popping into view, the frazzled elf twisted his ears up. His worried voice said, "Mistress called Topsy. Master is worried he is. Missy Mione must get back home."

He snatched up her hand and apparated them into the cottage, where Marcus jumped up from the sofa. He came close but stopped short when he saw her expression. Distanced, the athlete asked, "Where have you been? I waited for you after the game, and when I asked security, they said you left before it even started. Why? And don't say you're okay because you aren't."

After worrying her lip, they discussed Bridget Haney. "And why if you could go out with her, couldn't you come for Christmas," she wanted to know. The irritation returned full force.

But so did his because all he heard was, "Why don't you trust me?"

Her eyes cut into him. She questioned, "What do you mean, Marcus?"

The quidditch player paced the room. "I mean, why do you assume the worst? What legitimate evidence do you have that says I cheated? I've told you that I want to marry you. Why would I jeopardize that? I may be a lot of things, but I'm not a cheater, and when I say something, I mean it."

Holding up his thumb and pointer finger, he smushed them together in a visual. "It makes me this small to know that you don't trust me because that's what it all amounts to."

Marcus went to sit down at the bay window with a spectacular view of the ocean. His hands ran through his hair, and his head hung down low. Hermione felt terrible, and she has no one to blame but herself. Picking up her heart and courage, she moved to sit beside him and admit, "Nothing about us is simple. It's not going to be easy because it never is. You're a Slytherin, and I'm a Gryffindor. You love sports, and I don't. Your father wants to kill me and muggles like me. My father is a muggle dentist. You live in Australia, and I live back in jolly old England. But I don't care, Marcus. All I care about is that we're together."

His head lifted, even though his eyes were closed. But he's listening, so Hermione continued. "I know it's complicated, but it's worth it. And you're right. The only way any of this will work is if we trust each other. I failed to do that and let my emotions run away with me. That's been happening a lot lately, ever since you moved. So, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for being an idiot."

Marcus's eyes snapped open and held her gaze. "It's hard when you're in love with an idiot," he declared.

She nudged him with her shoulder and let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. Then he engulfed her with a hug, and she asked him to tell her what that picture was all about. He did. "The main reason I couldn't come for Christmas was the practices Coach was holding. Haney only signed with the team three days prior. With him being new in town and unable to go home for Christmas, his sister came to visit him. He invited me to go out with the two of them to celebrate the holiday. I thought it would be better than staying here drowning myself in fire whiskey, missing you and Gram. I honestly had no idea the press took pictures. I'm too naive."

His truth made Hermione smile because that sounded like him. And "You are too naive with the press. Luckily you date me, and I trapped Skeeter in her animagus form, so I'll teach you my tricks. I don't blame you for going out with them. I would have too. But next time, just remember the reporters will take pictures, and your crazy girlfriend misses you terribly."

Then a thought came to the crazy girlfriend, who shared it with her patient boyfriend. "Since it's out there, I wonder if we could use the pictures to our advantage and send them to dear old Dad. What do you think?"

That's something Marcus hadn't thought of, and it made sense. This picture fiasco could be a blessing in disguise, but "I don't want our relationship to be a lie. I'm not dating anyone else but you."

She knows that, and he knows that, but dad doesn't have to know that, especially with those pictures. So while they had themselves a merry little Australian Christmas, Maxwell Flint got a delivery from his youngest son. Marcus got his rights to the family vault restored (but not his name on the tree) and became more prosperous by siphoning money into his account, all from his girlfriend's cunning brain. And it's things like that which make him realize Hermione could have been a great Slytherin.