The time continued to pass unobstructed, and the weather was turning cold. The students at Hogwarts also turned cold to Harry and Hermione. The cold shoulders were due to a wretched article Rita Skeeter published in that rag she calls a newspaper. It also brewed tension between Marcus and Hermione.

Marcus isn't entirely dumb. He does have some intelligence and knows his Gryffindor is not interested in her friend, Potter. What he doesn't know is the whole Krum angle. Where does the ridiculously ripped seeker fit into all of this drama? Does the guy have his eye on Hermione, and is she interested in him? It's thoughts like that which keep Marcus up at night worrying. So much so that he's taken to giving Krum his most evil glare. He finishes the look with a hint of a snarl. This patented look scares first years worse than Snape, which is good because it assures that the little firsties won't come around whining.

Usually, those harsh expressions are reserved for the quidditch season. Since there's no quidditch this school year, Marcus will gladly practice them on this girl stealer, known as Krum. His good friends, Pucey, Montague, and Higgs, have noticed the venomous looks sent to the Durmstrang champion. One morning over breakfast, Higgs asked, "Hey man, what's up with this hostility towards Krum?"

Luckily it's Krum, so Marcus could deflect the answer easily. With a snarky voice, he declared, "The guy is all flash and no finesse. All he does is seek the snitch. It's not like being a chaser or another physical position. Anyone could be a seeker. He thinks he owns quidditch, and now he comes into our school and is chosen as a champion. It makes me ill how all this attention is given to him as if he's the second coming of Merlin." All of that is true, but not exactly why he detests the guy.

The other three Slytherins agreed with Marcus's statements. As Graham picked at a piece of bacon, he added, "And he's stealing all of our chicks. Just look at them looking at Krum. All I hear all the time is Krum is so handsome, and Krum is so blah, blah, blah. I want to crumble him into tiny bits."

That is more true than Marcus cares to admit. However, Adrian diffused the situation with his sense of humor. "You know what they say? Easy crumb, easy go." The dirty blonde started laughing at his own joke, which made the rest of them laugh too. Then he said another one, "All good things must crumb to an end."

Zabini overheard the Krum jokes and added one of his own. Although being Zabini, it was dirty-minded and no less hilarious. "Hold on, I'd like to crumb in your mouth," he said.

Adrian gave him a high-five across the table while Marcus tuned them out. Instead, his gaze landed across the Great Hall on the Gryffindor table, where his curly-haired tutor sat. He spied her sitting with Potter, trying to look unaffected by the gossip. Admiring her bravery, Marcus can admit that personally, he would be holed up in his bed if that happened to him. But it's not him, it's her, and she's nothing if not strong of heart. When Hermione finished her breakfast, his eyes pursued her walking out of the room. That is how he also noticed the object of his ire, Krum, following her out. Stabbing his eggs with his fork, the muscular Slytherin stewed and brooded.

Higgs saw his treatment of the food and remarked, "Whoa, Flint! What did those eggs ever do to you?"

Marcus stabbed more of the meal, rolling his eyes at his brown-haired friend. When breakfast was over, he stomped off to class. Everyone stayed out of his way, thanks in part to his permanent scowl. With his concentration off, the whole day was rotten, even Care of Magical Creatures.

As it happened, during that class, he made a rookie mistake. Marcus accidentally let a bottle-nosed, winged mantiffe go free. The creature flew straight to Arabella McFadden. The mantiffe threw up on her shirt, causing a great deal of pink sticky goo. She called him an idiot and then cried about the goo and how her shirt was ruined. Left with no choice, Hagrid docked him house points for that error, which the man hardly ever does.

After class, his immense professor rested his massive hand on Marcus's shoulder and tried to give him some comfort. "I dunno what got inter yeh today. But I 'spect tis nothin a good res' wouldn' cure. I hated takin points away from yeh like tha', bein' me bes' studen' an all."

Marcus hated that, too, especially since his day did not get much better. As it wore on, he decided to come right out and ask Hermione about Krum. While resting in the Slytherin dorm room, the brawny seventh-year prepared himself for that conversation. Spritzing the cologne Spellbound, he rehearsed the words in his head. None of that mattered because he got tongue-tied when the time came for the tutoring session.

Hermione had tossed her bag down in a chair with a huff. Taking out the tutoring materials and setting them aside, she put her hair into a messy bun, securing it with a quill. Tapping her ink pen on a piece of parchment, she told him, "I hate people who act nice to your face and talk badly about you behind your back."

Looking at his tutor acting all frazzled made Marcus feel concerned for her. He agreed with those sentiments, though. "I hate that too. That happens to me a lot. I just ignore them. Who's talking about you?"

Hermione explained, clicking the end of the pen, "Besides the whole school, my ridiculous roommates. All they do is gossip. They never do much of anything else, and today they asked about Krum. Like there's anything there! It's a false article. One thing I hate more than gossip is lies. Lies cut deeper than a sword."

While she began looking over a paper, Marcus realized he didn't need to ask about Krum because Hermione kind of gave it away. It made his emotions do a victory dance. However, to be sure, he asked, "So, there's really nothing between you and Krum then?"

Looking up from reviewing the tutoring plan, Hermione gave him a frustrated expression. "No. Nothing is going on between the two of us. He asked for help in the library, and I did so. That's it. I am not interested in the Bulgarian guy, not when..." Her words trailed off, catching herself before she said too much.

Marcus became curious about what was left unsaid. "Not when what?" As he waited for a response, his eyes held her in place.

Clicking the pen repeatedly, the curly-haired witch felt the heat of his gaze. Setting the pen on the table, she refused to meet his eyes. His dark eyes are so expressive if only one knows what to look for. Returning her attention to the tutoring plan, she covered her tracks by saying, "Not when he's pitted against Harry in the tournament. Besides, there are perfectly acceptable males at Hogwarts. Long-distance relationships with people from other countries never work out. Not that I would know because I've never had one, or any relationship, really."

Hermione chastised herself. Why must she word vomit all of her thoughts? That entire last statement basically told Marcus Flint that she's a single, sad female. Merlin knows the guy has probably had more than his fair share of dates. All the Slytherins do. If the desire to do so is there, he could use her tragic love life as a topic of conversation in the showers. That would be even worse than that lying article Skeeter wrote.

Except Marcus would never do that because he's in the same boat as her. Knowing that Hermione hasn't had a relationship made him feel like he won the quidditch cup. Instead of having her shut down on him and feel awkward, he shared something uncomfortable about himself too. "I've never had a relationship either."

After making that confession, his head ducked to look at the page in the charms book. It's a difficult thing to say you're a loser out loud. He'd rather be oblivious than see any rejection in her eyes.

To say Hermione was shocked by that confession would be putting it mildly. It's a genuine surprise. So, cautiously she asked, "You haven't? But you're older with muscles and are athletic. Girls like that sort of thing." What is with her and word vomit today?

Marcus chuckled. Daring to raise his eyes to her chocolate ones, he saw the lack of rejection. Instead, he found something else that gave him the courage to say, "I don't know where those girls are because they've definitely never said anything like that to me. I've come to anticipate hearing the words stupid, idiot, and troll from females' mouths. The first time the words were spoken to my face was when I asked Marnie Spencer to Hogsmeade with me in my fifth year. The rejection stung for weeks after, but I came to the conclusion that girls are not worth my time if they're mean to my face. And I don't want to settle for just anyone."

Again Hermione cannot believe the mean-spiritedness of people. Marcus is not a troll, and neither is he stupid. She's tired of listening to others tell him those things. It's similar to her being called mudblood or swot and supposes it's one of the ways they're alike, especially with matters of the heart. Hermione caught Marcus's expressive eyes and said, "You're not a troll. In truth, you're an attractive guy who's rugged and shredded in all the right places. People reject nice things all the time. It just means they can't afford the true cost of it."

And just like that, Marcus Flint was floating on air, not literally like Cassius did that one day in sixth-year charms. That was rather hilarious, but this is different. Wanting to say more to the girl, he couldn't because Potter interrupted their session, wanting to speak to Hermione. Marcus found himself on the receiving end of a stony glare from the boy, which he quickly returned. The Slytherin doodled on his parchment when the muffliato was cast while the two talked.

Once it was removed, the quidditch captain heard Potter say, "I'll wait for you at the entrance."

Beginning to gather her things, Hermione apologized. "I'm sorry, Marcus, but I'm needed for something. We'll get back on track Thursday since we don't meet tomorrow. I've written down your review assignments to do before then. It's mainly practicing the blue sparks and extinguishing spells. I know you can do them, and we'll work on perfecting them during our session."

He nodded and felt a touch of loneliness creep in at seeing her pack away her things. Peering across the table, Marcus saw his Gryffindor's hand rest on her pastel folder for a moment. Catching his eyes, she declared, "Stop letting people walk through your mind with their nasty feet. Nasty things don't belong there, like hurtful words." Then she put the folder in her bag, zipped it up, and stood. As she turned to walk away, Hermione gave him a smile.

With a sigh, Marcus put his book away and cleared the table of all the items. In his head, he cursed Potter for dragging his tutor off. Upon reaching the door to Slytherin, he whispered the password, and the doors opened. However, his mood worsened because Burke and her gaggle of nitwits were seated in the common room.

January Davenport, a fifth-year, blue-eyed blonde with the face of an angel but the personality of a banshee, gave him one of her most flirtatious smiles. Her voice sounded like a squeaky wheel calling out his name.

Hoping to get away as soon as possible, Marcus asked, "Can I help you, January?" He moved to position himself at the exit for the male dorm rooms.

The girl crooned, "Saturday is a Hogsmeade day. I thought you might like to go with me."

There are many things he'd rather do than accompany January to Hogsmeade. Taking divination lessons from Trelawney comes to mind. So Marcus told her, "Thanks, but I'm already going with someone." He isn't, but he hopes to.

That's when the haughty girl started hissing. "Oh, please! Everyone knows you don't have a date for Hogsmeade. You never do because no one wants to be seen with you. Just because you're a pureblood from a sacred twenty-eight family doesn't make you handsome. I was doing you a favor."

Raising an eyebrow at her words, Hermione's parting advice flooded Marcus's mind. It encouraged him and emboldened the words coming out of his mouth. "Really? A favor, you say? I don't need favors like that, especially from girls like you. Did you ever wonder the reason you're single? Maybe it's because no one wants to date a twit who cares more about Daddy's money than anything else."

Spinning on his heels, he walked away. That is when the girl screamed, literally screamed. Perhaps she is part banshee. But Marcus kept on walking and saw his friends laughing outside their rooms. Bole clapped his shoulder and said, "Thank you! Thank you for that. I've wanted to tell January something similar for a long time. I just haven't the balls to do it like you did."

The guys trailed after the oldest Sylterin, following into his room, where he flopped onto the bed. Montague and Pucey settled onto their own beds while Bole, Higgs, Zabini, and Malfoy took a chair. Higgs wanted to know, "OK, man, what gives? You've been acting unlike yourself for weeks now. You're all happy, secretive, and stuff. Are you really going with a girl to Hogsmeade?"

The nosy snakes irritated Marcus. Not everyone cares. Mostly they're just curious, and that's what he's come to learn about people. What should he say? "I am happy. Happy that I'm finally passing my classes. As for Hogsmeade, I plan to ask someone. Whether they say yes is anyone's guess."

Malfoy pointed his slender finger at him and said, "I knew it! I knew he hadn't asked anyone. At least you're not as pathetic as Granger, that mudblood. The very idea of someone like Krum being interested in her is a laugh."

Counting to ten, Marcus took a deep breath because if he didn't, Malfoy would be knocked into the middle of next year. His hand balled up at his side, ready to go. Pucey, looking at his friend's stony face, commented to the room, "Let's not name call. It gets tiresome to hear." And the conversation turned to the tournament.

When everyone had left, Adrian threw a pillow at Marcus from across the room. "I don't know what's gotten into you, man, but happiness looks good on you for a change. At some point, the three of us in this room need to talk about a particular female tutor. Not today, but soon."

Nodding and reclining on the headboard, Marcus accioed the Walkman and the special glasses, then settled in to do some homework. All concentration and thoughts returned to the brief time spent in the library. Hermione didn't laugh at him for never having a relationship, and she said he was attractive. That's something he's not been called before.

The muscular Slytherin has often wondered what it feels like to be seen as attractive. Marcus must admit it feels great. Over the years, he yearned for someone to see him with a fresh pair of eyes. Because it takes somebody unfamiliar and different to see things in new ways that others think of as trash.

He supposes that's how it is with Hermione too. People look at her and see mudblood. They see her and think of messy, frizzy hair and big teeth from her first and second years. But their perspective is all wrong. People can change. When you set aside any preconceptions and see the thing for what it's really worth, that makes all the difference.

She's not muddy. To Marcus, Hermione has become someone important. Nor does the girl have messy hair. It's smoother now. And his tutor isn't ugly, far from it, but her heart is even more beautiful than her outward appearance. His thoughts drifted off while working on a potions essay, and he pondered those things before falling asleep too.

Besides seeing Hermione during meals or changing classes, the next time, Marcus saw her was Thursday for their tutoring lesson. Having not seen her in the Great Hall, she clearly skipped dinner. Most likely to work on an essay for a class she's probably weeks ahead in. Setting his books down, he asked, "Have you eaten?"

Hermione glanced at him and mentioned, "I had an apple."

Marcus shook his head at the witch, picked up his things, and invited her to "Come with me. I promise you can trust me." She started refusing about needing to finish her paper, pointing at different books scattered around. Despite her rebuttal, he wouldn't hear of it. So with a tinge of trepidation, Hermione gathered her things and followed behind the seventh year. However, Marcus didn't care for that either. Slowing down, he walked beside her.

When Hermione noticed this, she hesitated a step. He saw her hesitation and raised an eyebrow in question. This made her point out, "You're a Slytherin. I'm a Gryffindor. You're a pureblood, and I'm not. People will mock you for being seen with me outside our secluded table in the library or the quidditch pitch."

Marcus motioned for them to continue walking. As they did, he reminded her, "People mock me for my looks and intelligence. I think I can handle any comments about being seen with you. It's nothing a strong glare won't fix."

So Hermione relaxed a little and kept in step with him. He led her to the astronomy tower, conjured two plaid blankets from parchment, and cast a heating spell about them. This impressed his tutor. So much so that she gave him a beautiful smile and a very brief hug, which he hated. It was much too short.

Hermione patted the space next to her on the blanket, and they sat leg to leg together. "For my next trick, I will conjure you some food," Marcus exclaimed with a cheesy grin.

"Oh really," she laughed?

Turning his head to look into her eyes, he asked, "What? You don't believe me? Allow me to prove you wrong." That's when he called for a house elf, who brought Hermione a plate of food, two drinks, and utensils. Marcus took a glass of pumpkin juice and proudly stated, "See. I told you I would conjure you up some food." Hermione laughed again before tucking into the beef stew.

He took out his book and glasses to read while she ate. When the food was done, his sweet Gryffindor told him, "Thank you. I'm used to making do if I miss a meal. Your charms skills are improving. As your tutor, that makes me highly thrilled and pleased."

Marcus gave her a nudge with his shoulder and admitted, "I am too. I didn't think I could ever be able to actually do anything beyond basics, but with your help and these glasses, I can see things more clearly."

Giggling, she nudged him back with her shoulder. "More clearly- Ha, ha, ha. You're hilarious." They both chuckled and wore shy smiles.

Then Hermione picked at a thread in the blanket, a little nervous about sharing a particular nagging thought. She doesn't want to discourage Marcus, but it's best to get things out in the open. So, she informed him, "I've been thinking about something else. It's been on my mind since you mentioned having trouble with arithmancy. Don't hate me for saying this, but I wonder if you also have dyscalculia. It often goes along with dyslexia."

That's news to him because if it's true, it would explain his mental mix-ups in math. The older Slytherin declared, "I wouldn't be surprised if I do have that." He wanted to say something else but stopped. It's hard not to think negatively of oneself, primarily when nothing but unfavorable things have been spoken about you.

Hermione patted his leg and lightly chastised him. "You've got to stop thinking negatively. You're not stupid, and you're not ugly. But back to dyscalculia. I've been reading on it." And she went off on a tangent, talking about math learning problems. When she finished, there was a promise to help figure this out as well.

Positioning himself where he could see her better, Marcus asked, "How do you do it? How do you process all of this information and keep yourself sane? You have this brilliant mind that's bursting with beautiful things. It's unfortunate that no one truly appreciates that about you, not even your friends. How can someone with my intelligence level comprehend that, but others can't?"

Rendered thoughtless during that whole dialogue, Hermione acknowledged that sweet statement with a soft voice and moist eyes, "Because, for some reason, you're willing to look beyond your own ideas and see things from a different perspective."

Before talking himself out of it, Marcus made a split-second decision and grabbed her hand. Holding it, he locked his eyes with hers, saying, "But you did the same thing with me. All my life, I've been called stupid and hideous. Then you came along and became my tutor, which I'm sure you didn't want to do willingly. Yet you did and saw me differently. You've never called me names, unlike I did to you in the past. For the record, I'm sorry for that. You even told me I'm attractive looking. No one has ever said that to me before. It's nice to be seen, Hermione. And I want you to know that I see you, too."

Seeing a few tears fall down her cheek, he took his thumbs to wipe them away. She brought his strong hand to her lap and tenderly brushed her fingers over the top of it. Hermione's nerves started getting the better of her. So without looking at him, she gently restated, "But you're not stupid, and you are attractive, Marcus. And one day, when you're older, all these girls will wish they could eat their words. You'll get more handsome, and they'll be the ones who look like trolls."

The words are right there on the tip of his tongue, but his insecurities forbid him to say them. He's been rejected one too many times, and Hermione's rejection would do him in completely. Regardless he really wants to say, "But I don't want them. I want you." Instead, he settled for thanking her for saying what she did.

Then with a bit of courage that must have been conjured up from parts unknown, he asked Hermione to Hogsmeade on Saturday. That in itself is a big feat because he's experienced the heartache of that refusal before.

Fiddling with his sleeve, he waited for the rebuff that never came. After being declined a lot in the past, Marcus finally got a yes. It wasn't just any yes. It was Hermione's, yes, and that made all the difference.