Summer sang with joy over England. The beaches enticed swimmers with dancing waves, and the flavor of the sunshine lured people from the comfort of four walls to the great outdoors. As Harry is fond of saying, "Some of my best memories are made on a broom, and others are made with flip-flops. Because if you're not barefoot, you're overdressed for summer." And, of course, this always led to a discussion with Ron wanting to know the purpose of flip-flops. The answer is always the same. They have no purpose except to let your feet breathe.

For Hermione, summer is the most promising time to catch up on reading. Mainly because "Summer means more light to read by. Curling up with a good book in the hammock in the backyard is the most enjoyable thing ever. I love how summer seems to wrap itself around you like a cozy scarf or treasured blanket." Yes. Everything good and lovely happens with the magic only summer can bring.

The first couple of weeks of the break saw Glimfeather greet Hermione daily. She and Marcus kept a constant stream of contact going. So much so that Glimfeather's second residence became the Granger house, much to Crookshanks's displeasure. The grumpy kneazle is used to his human's full attention and hates sharing it with the agreeable, charming owl. While Crooks would try to paw at the winged creature, Glimfeather would clack his beak in annoyance. Hermione would scold both like naughty children.

Paul and Jean Granger have enjoyed seeing their daughter's face light up at the sight of the regal bird. One afternoon, when the owl flew in, Jean mentioned to her daughter, "Hermione, your father and I would like to meet your young man. Please invite him for dinner. Any evening would be fine."

With a groan, Hermione remarked, "Mother! Daddy will embarrass me. I just know it. He'll want to ask Marcus a million questions about life goals and his intentions toward me. And I can see him pulling out the photo album showing Marcus old pictures. Not to mention the videos of when I was little dancing in tutus or visiting the museums!"

Hermione's dramatics made her mother chuckle. Jean promised, "I'll do my best to reign your father in, Cricket. But do ask him for dinner. We'd love to meet the young man, especially since you're dating. I know you have plans to meet him over the break. You could show him around Moggle London, then come here for dinner."

Smiling at her mother's mispronunciation, Hermione lightly corrected the kind, slender woman. "Muggle, mom, not moggle. Alright, as long as Dad doesn't do anything too embarrassing. I'll invite Marcus to dinner with the letter I'm sending." That is how Marcus Flint, pureblood, came to spend the day with his muggleborn girlfriend in Muggle London.

It all started with Hermione collecting him at the Leaky Cauldron on an exceptionally bright, sunny Tuesday. He wore a pair of jean pants (at least that's what he thinks they're called) and a fitted black polo shirt with a spritz of Spellbound cologne. After he greeted Hermione with a kiss, he asked, "Am I dressed okay? I don't look too wizardly, do I?" His feet shifted as he waited for her response.

Hermione's heart raced as she looked him over. Her boyfriend looks very yummy. However, she has to know, "Where did you get those jeans and polo? I wouldn't think you'd have anything muggle in your closet, except maybe your khaki pants."

A red tint came over the Slytherin's face. "Well, I told my Gram what I was up to and fretted. I didn't want to embarrass you or myself. So, she took a trip to Muggle London one day and went to some store called Blueberry. My prudent grandmother came home loaded down with bags and bags of clothes for me. Now I have all sorts of things to wear when I'm with you, like these jean pants. They fit well and feel good. She also exchanged galleons into muggle money for my outing. Then explained how I can do so on my own in the future."

In her head, Hermione thought over what he meant about Blueberry, and it dawned on her... Burberry. With a huge smile, she told him, "I think you look quite dashing. And you don't have to call them jean pants, just jeans like my middle name."

The couple shared soft smiles. Then Marcus's adorable girlfriend asked, "Are you ready? Once we step outside these walls, it's all muggle. I promise not to overwhelm you, and if you feel too overcome by everything around you, let me know. We can go somewhere calm, like Hyde Park or this quaint, little bookstore cafe I love."

Taking her hand, Marcus led her to the exit onto Charring Cross. He was the one to pull her out of the Leaky, which was surprising. Hermione thought for sure he'd be skeptical like Ron was that one time. Once they got onto the busy street, she watched as Marcus turned every which way looking all around him. His eyes were lit up in pure wonderment and fascination. It's a moment she'll never forget because, for one thing, the petite witch never thought she'd have a boyfriend. And for another, she never thought she'd have a pureblood one.

Now it's Hermione's turn to pull him along. They took in the major sights of Charring Cross. Then the pair traversed the city sightseeing and ended up on Portobello Road. In the teacherly voice, Marcus loves (but Snape hates), his witch explained, "This is my favorite place, besides the library. I love the market! It's so unique, and it's famous for muggles all the world over. Millions of visitors visit this market every year. The booths stretch on for miles, as far as the eye can see."

That is how Marcus bought a cone of muggle ice cream and enjoyed it. It's different from Fortescue's, with no toffee apple flavor, but the rocky road is yummy. He also purchased two of the largest banana nut muffins he's ever seen. After giving one to Hermione, the couple strolled down the market's street, eating their treats and enjoying the atmosphere.

Stopping at a vintage clothing booth, Hermione put a white fedora hat with a black ribbon on her boyfriend's head. For herself, she tried on a feathered flapper headband with crystals. "If we ever go to a costume party, we should go as a nineteen-twenties couple," she told him. But in truth, Hermione doesn't know of any costume party to go to besides one for Halloween. And who knows what they both would be doing at that time.

She started to put the headband back when Marcus took it. He purchased both the fedora and the hairpiece. His reasoning is, "My grandmother's friend, Shelby Smallflower, always hosts a midsummer night's party. It's usually costumed. We could go together."

Her eyes met his instead of looking at the bag in his hands. Hermione questioned the idea of this party. "Are you sure, Marcus? With everything that's going on surrounding Voldemort, I don't want to cause you trouble."

He kissed her cheek and stated, "It won't be any trouble. For one, we'll be in costume. And two, most of the really uppity purebloods (who have been known death eaters) never attend. They think costume parties are beneath them. Take, for example, my parents, the Malfoys, Parkinson's, Pucey's, and everyone in their social circle. But you will see my grandmother's friends, Mr. and Mrs. Warrington, the Montagues, Higgs, and a lot of lesser pureblood families- the ones who aren't snobs or known Voldemort supporters."

That explanation made Hermione calm down considerably. "In that case, I'd love to attend with you. Is that why you weren't worried about being seen in Muggle London? I mean that there wouldn't be any purebloods wandering around."

He chuckled. "Goodness, no. If purebloods were wandering the streets of Muggle London, then I'd be surprised. Alert the Daily Prophet! For all the hate in their hearts, this would be the last place they'd care to visit." As they started walking again, Marcus explained, "During the summer months, most pureblood families travel to one of their summer homes. The French Riviera, Mediterranean, and the Caribbean are popular locations."

This information floored Hermione. She's never thought about that before. "What about the Polynesian islands? Are they popular with purebloods? And what about your family? Where do you guys usually go?" she wondered.

They left Portobello Road and took the subway to return to one of her favorite coffee cafes. On the ride there, Marcus responded to the question. "Most families don't visit the Polynesian islands. They claim it's too American, but I don't have a problem with them. I've never been, but my Gram keeps talking about visiting Hawaii or Bora Bora. As for my family, we have summer homes on the Amalfi Coast in Italy, Santorini in Greece, and Monaco. I'd offer for us to travel to one, but I don't trust my family not to be there. Instead, we could go to Tahiti, Capri, Ibiza, Australia, or Bali. My Gram has houses on all those, and not many other purebloods do."

Hermione's eyes grew as large as saucers. "Oh my! Just visiting you at your cottage will be vacation enough for me," she declared. But he told her if she changed her mind to let him know.

They took a taxi to the Granger's house when the afternoon adventure wound down. Marcus picked at nonexistent lint on his jeans as the car drove off. He began worrying himself into a frazzle. Hermione noticed. She scooted closer to him and held his hand. Trying to calm him, she pointed out things already shared in copious letters. "My parents are dentists and fix teeth. My father's name is Paul, and my mom's is Jean. She assured me that she'd keep my father in check not to scare you off or embarrass me. He enjoys watching rugby and tennis and knows a little about quidditch, thanks to Harry. My mom likes to cook, garden, and play bridge with her friend group. We have a nosy elderly neighbor, Mrs. Spitz. The woman always asks my mother about the owls flying in and out of the house at all hours. So we'll have to be careful around that one."

She continued telling him about everything he should know while the taxi made its way to her home. In the end, her voice soothed the beast in Marcus until the cab stopped. When they paid and exited, he stood stock still gazing at his girlfriend's home. It's bigger than he thought it would be but much smaller than the colossal Flint manor house. Overall it seems inviting, especially when Hermione's friendly mother came outside to greet them. It's a stark contrast to his own mom. Cora Flint would never greet guests outside.

Marcus noted the woman walking down the stoned walkway had smooth, brown wavy hair. She looks like an older version of her daughter and is just as pleasant. Jean hugged him and took his arm, leading the duo into the house. "Now, Marcus, I hope you've had a wonderful day. Hermione's father and I have wanted to meet you for some time. He's running a little late at the office but should be here any moment. In the meantime, you can both sit at the kitchen table and keep me company while I finish preparing dinner. I hope you brought your appetite." She ushered them inside and to the kitchen.

After giving them both glasses of sweet tea, the magnanimous, perceptive woman peppered her daughter's boyfriend with questions. Feeling at ease with her, Marcus answered each one starting with what he wants to be when he grows up. This question made both he and Hermione laugh. Carefully, the athlete explained, "In the coming weeks, I have tryouts with several professional quidditch teams. My position is a chaser. I hope to be drafted by one of the teams. If that doesn't work out, then I'll look into animal healing."

Jean thought these were admirable goals. While the trio was trading childhood stories, Mr. Granger walked into the house. He listened to Marcus tell a story about the time he caught a pixie, and it bit his finger. "Nasty little beast! I gather muggles think pixies are cute and sweet, but they're not. They can be downright disagreeable and rude."

With a chuckle, Paul Granger greeted the women of his life with a kiss on the cheek. Then he shook hands with his daughter's young man and sat beside him. The stories continued, and Marcus helped Mrs. Granger set the table when dinner was ready.

Crookshanks kept to the Slytherin's legs the whole evening, which prompted Paul to say, "Interesting. The feline doesn't take to people often. Really he doesn't take to anyone, so that's high praise considering the source."

Hermione knew her kneazle cared for Marcus and has done so ever since the Slytherin healed him. It's actually quite sweet. As dinner continued with stories of various travels and adventures, the Grangers could see why their daughter was enamored with this one. However, they recognized he doesn't like to talk much about his family. Jean wondered why that was, so she questioned, "Tell us about your parents, Marcus. What are they like? Will we get to meet them? We could have a nice summer barbecue in the backyard, all of us together."

That made Marcus stiffen and cringe, not because it's a bad idea. No. He loves a good barbecue. But because he knows what his parents think about muggles. And with Voldemort having returned, it isn't good for anyone. So he delicately shared those thoughts. "Mrs. Granger, my parents are purebloods. In the wizarding society, that equates them with elitist snobs who have a ton of money. They look down on anyone who isn't like them. With that in mind, they would be displeased to know I'm dating a muggleborn. It wouldn't go well for me." In his mind, he added or for Hermione.

He saw their faces display their shock and worry. His leg shook while he stated, "But please don't worry about it. I can protect myself, and I love your daughter. I wouldn't let anything happen to her. However, my grandmother is not like them. She comes from old money too but is down-to-earth and one of the kindest people you'd ever meet. My Gram would love to attend a barbecue. I think you'd like her."

Marcus's words made Hermione smile. She placed a gentle hand on his leg, and it stopped shaking. The two held hands under the table. Mr. Granger looked thoughtful. Before sipping his wine, he commented on the things Marcus shared. "I'm sorry to hear that about your parents. But I'm also glad to know that you respect my daughter and would protect her if needed. If your grandmother is open to it, we'd enjoy hosting her in our home. As for you, please consider this a standing invitation. Let us know whenever you want to visit, and we'll make arrangements."

Hearing her father say that, Hermione grinned widely. It's a hard-fought victory in getting her father's approval. He doesn't do so with just anyone. So, to her, this is huge. She gave Marcus's hand a squeeze of affection, which he returned.

But just as quickly as her grin appeared, it promptly disappeared. Paul stood up and motioned for everyone to follow him. "Now that dinner is finished, why don't we all congregate in the living room? There are some lovely family photo albums that you'd enjoy seeing, Marcus."

Hermione narrowed her eyes and turned to look at her mother. Her face practically begged Jean to intervene. It only made her mother chuckle, which bothered the already embarrassed witch. Instead, Mrs. Granger said, "Hermione, Cricket, help me carry the dessert into the living room." Those words made Hermione's mouth drop open. She could not believe her parents!

Jean saw this and told her, "It'll be alright, I promise. We like this boy. He seems like a reasonable, well-mannered young man who cares for you greatly. We're not going to scare him off. Now be helpful and carry that tray."

With those thoughts in mind, Hermione did as requested. She carted off the tray of cheesecake and served the dessert dishes before sitting beside her boyfriend. Her mother reigned in the photo album viewing by asking Marcus if he knew anything about rugby. In turn, that got Mr. Granger into a discussion about sports. It ended with him inviting the quidditch athlete to go to a match.

The whole thing was surreal. Hermione expressed this to her Slytherin the minute they were alone swinging in the hammock. As Marcus played with her hair, twisting a strand around his finger, he wondered, "Do you think the evening went well? Is there anything special I need for this rugby match?"

With a light chuckle, Hermione responded. "I think the evening was terrific. My father is hard to win over, but he warmed up to you as my mother did. I'm so glad you agreed to meet them. And no. You don't need anything to watch the match, just yourself and a pair of those hot jeans."

All Marcus could concentrate on was her hot jeans comment. "So, I look good in these jeans. Perhaps I need to wear them more often." He twirled the piece of her hair and couldn't help but inhale the light rose scent. Then a thought hit him. "Now it's your turn," he stated.

Kissing the place on his neck that he loves, Hermione asked, "My turn to do what?"

Smiling into her hair, Marcus replied, "To meet my Gram, of course. How does Thursday sound? That way, you can see my cottage, and hopefully, I'll have good news about two of my tryouts."

Thinking about his quidditch tryouts made her happy, but being pressed this close to him made her insides happier. There's something melty about his strong arms slung around her. There's just something about him that makes her heart sing. "Thursday sounds fantastic," she told him. They snuggled together and let the hammock sway in the night breeze. The couple couldn't have asked for a better day.