AN:

Initially this was supposed to be the long await Ron and Hermione confrontation chapter. However the opening scene took on a life of it's own and now the chapter has been split. It's coming though y'all, I promise.

Also as a reminder, Love Fest 2022 started today so updates for this will be a bit slower as I focus on some prompts for that. In a perfect world I will be writing and completing an Antonin/Hermione, Thorfinn/Hermione, Gregory/Vincent/Hermione, Gregory/Hermione, and of course Marcus/Hermione (three to be exact) some I will be able to share here on FFN right away and others not until HHBingo2022 completes in November.

Anyways, I hope y'all enjoy and have a great week.

XOXO

Chapter Eleven

The afternoon following the end of season party at the Muellers' found Hermione in London. She had put off several errands for as long as she could - a trip to Gringotts to exchange galleons for pounds being her first stop before Draco locked himself in his lab for the day while Theo slept for his shift at the hospital - and knew that the hub of wizarding activity in England was the last place she was going to want to be after she finally spoke with Ron. She had been pleasantly surprised when he hadn't shown up at the clambake to cause a scene. However she knew that for all the privacy they would have at the Burrow, the news of their second and final break up would still make headlines with either Ginny or Ron casually throwing a comment about it to the press. Attention would be unavoidable in London but in Falmouth now that they knew people would be watching her and Marcus, she could easily ride out the media cycle without them gracing the front page of the paper or the cover of Witch Weekly together. It also helped that the Wizarding community in their small beach town had been outraged by the invasion of their beloved chaser's privacy and had been very vocal about it to the Prophet.

Having crossed her mundane tasks off like a hit list in record time, she rewarded herself with a few hours of shopping. Even with that completed though, she still had most of the afternoon to pass until she could head to the Burrow. Not wanting a full lunch for the way her nerves would later churn her stomach, she made her way back up the Alley to the Dainty Saucer to indulge in a light afternoon tea.

Casually strolling the streets on her way, she stopped to peer into several more shop windows. To an outside observer, she looked to be having a leisurely Sunday afternoon that involved spending a healthy amount of her galleons. While she had been doing just that, she was also tracking the tail that she had been humoring all day. Finding that all three wizards were still following her, she detoured into a baby shop to feed her addiction of buying things for her godson as well as numb their minds further to her boring afternoon before turning the tables on them. She wasn't sure what they were hoping to find out about her but if they wanted to play games, who was she to stop them?

After spending what was probably an obscene amount of money on things for the newest Potter to push her ahead of Draco in the race for favorite godparent, she headed back out to the cobblestone street smiling to herself as her tail immediately resumed. It seemed that her status as a war hero and the infinite number of stories about her time on the run had slipped their minds.

Amateurs, she thought, her smile broadening as she rolled her eyes.

Pulling open the door of the tea shop, she greeted the hostess and requested a table for four in her usual section. As she was seated, she asked that the witch guide the waiting trio to her table without mentioning that she would be seating them with her. Hermione knew it sounded odd but the small tea salon had become a favorite of theirs for their habit of not asking questions and quickly seizing the cameras of patrons who pointed them in their direction and banning them from their premises. Taking her customary seat in the back corner, where she faced the mirrors to easily watch the room, she arranged her parcels on the floor and in the seat to her right so the wizards couldn't surround her and awaited her unsuspecting party.

Glancing over her menu as they approached a short few minutes later, she closed the leather book and smiled at them in the glass as she greeted, "I apologize for ruining your little game of espionage boys. I was getting rather bored of keeping up pretenses and felt a little peckish. So, I figured why not share a spot of tea and you can just ask whatever it was you were hoping to find out about me, hmm?"

Gesturing to the seats in front of her, she watched as Pucey, Montague, and Warrington all filled in around the table.

"How long have you known?" Montague asked, snapping his linen napkin to drape it over his lap.

Checking the time on her watch, she pretended to be doing the math as she slowly answered, "Let's see it's half two now… I arrived at Theo's flat at half ten… Thanks to Marcus, I was late returning home after my run with Darya and didn't apparate back until well after nine… but I left Viktor's at ten fifteen so… I would say about a quarter after ten, maybe ten thirteen or seventeen depending on how well your watch keeps time."

"How the hell did you know?" Pucey asked, slightly impressed.

Pausing to place her order with the waitress, she looked at them as if they were stupid once she left and said, "I successfully kept Harry hidden from Snatchers, Death Eaters, and Voldemort for months while the entire country was looking for him. We only got caught because of the taboo. Spotting a tail was a survivalist skill and not one easily forgotten just because we've been home for three years. Besides it's not really that impressive, you three are shite at blending in." Lacing her fingers on the table, she leaned in and asked, "Since you've now asked two questions, it's time for one of my own. What were you hoping to find out about me? I mean surely it can't have been my voracious reading habits, shoe addiction, or uncontrollable urge to spoil my unborn godson."

"We heard you with Marcus this morning," Warrington accused.

"Well if we had been doing anything more than kissing that would be embarrassing."

"Cut the shite, Granger," Montague snapped. "You had us fooled yesterday with your little Golden Girl act, wanting us all to think you're as besotted with Marcus as he is with you, but we're not buying it. What the fuck do you want with him?"

Furrowing her eyebrow when she couldn't figure out where they were going, she gave up and asked, "What the hell are you talking about?"

Putting his hand up between her, Montague, and Warrington, Pucey mediated, "Graham, Cassius, take it down, yeah? Hermione, we were in the living room when you came back from your run. With the doors and windows open to the back deck, we were able to hear you two talking."

"And?"

"And, Marcus is fucking gone for you," Warrington hissed. "Yesterday we thought the feeling was mutual but after what we heard, we're here to warn you the fuck off of him. He's fallen fast and hard for you and we aren't going to sit by and let you string him along by the bollocks."

"What the hell are you all on about?" She demanded, her anger simmering to the surface.

"Your little dinner with Weasley tonight! Don't deny it, we fucking heard you, you shallow cunt!" Montague seethed.

"Okay seriously you two, shut the hell up," Pucey urged. Looking at her, he apologized, "This was not how this was supposed to go. They've been stewing in their anger all day and things are getting out of control."

Rolling her eyes, she sarcastically asked, "Gee, you think?"

"Look, your dysfunction with that pathetic wanker is none of our business," Warrington tried again, giving a valiant effort at reining in his hatred. "But when you involve Marcus it becomes our business."

Rubbing his temples, Pucey muttered, "Fucking Merlin, she's going to hex us all."

"The thought did cross my mind," she smiled threateningly.

Continuing like neither of them had spoken, Warrington forged ahead.

"Marcus isn't like the rest of us or even like Theo and Draco. He never should have been in Slytherin to begin with but he learned how to blend in. At his core though, he's-"

"A romantic and idealist," she interrupted, her features softening as she recalled his gentle and earnest ways, her fingers absently brushing over her lips that he had slowly kissed until they were swollen that morning.

"Exactly. He doesn't play games, he wants to believe the best in everyone, he's incredibly selfless, and he never goes into anything without being ready to fully dedicate himself to it. It makes him a great friend and I imagine a great partner in a relationship."

"It also makes him incredibly vulnerable to being used. Which is why we're concerned," Pucey explained.

"And what exactly is your concern about me?"

"Can we be blunt?" Pucey asked.

"Are you saying you haven't been already? And people think us Gryffindors are brash. Well go on then," she allowed, sitting back in her chair to listen.

"We already told you, Marcus is sunk for you. That's happened exactly one other time in all the years we've known him and that cunt fucking destroyed him. We won't let you do the same thing to him that she did."

Seamlessly picking up where Pucey left off, Montague continued, "Like we said, we don't give a shite about what you and Weasley are working through. If you want to go around and shag as many blokes as you can to get back at him or to experience a satisfying fuck before you spend the rest of your years getting yourself off because your three pump chump boyfriend can't find your clitoris to save his life, be our fucking guest. Hell, we can even set you up with a few decent wizards with unmatched reputations in the sack. However you using Marcus, that's something we will not allow. He's incapable of being casual and not allowing feelings to enter that sort of arrangement."

"So either permanently end things with your Ginger Golden Boy and don't treat Marcus like your dirty little secret or get the fuck out of his life. He deserves better than some shallow cunt who's too embarrassed to be seen with him, thinking he's beneath her. Your boyfriend may be one third of the trio that saved the world, but Marcus is worth far more than Weasley ever will be and if you can't see that, then you sure as fuck don't deserve him. Frankly, I'm not even sure you do deserve him with the way you've been keeping one foot on the ground all this time and not severing ties with Weasley. Even with that little floral arrangement that's under stasis in his bedroom, I don't trust you," Warrington finished.

Reminding herself that they were in a public place, Hermione pushed her tongue into her cheek as she tried to cool off her indignation. There were so many things she wanted to say to them, to yell at them. Words to both cut them down as well as defend herself, but she held back. She knew the place they were coming from because she had been there herself with Pansy. They were being protective of their friend in the face of someone they saw as a threat to him. Regardless of their assumptions and accusations, she understood that and respected them for it even if she was currently on the receiving end of their attack.

Slowly releasing the breath she had held in for a count of ten, she held up her hand to halt Pucey's coming words. They had said more than enough; it was her turn.

Meeting each of them with an imploring stare through her anger, she was proud of herself as her voice came out calm. "You three obviously did not hear the entirety of our conversation, nor has Marcus made you privy to what has been going on these last weeks. While I respect the need you feel to protect him - more than you know since I gave years of my life doing the same for Harry - it's not needed in this situation.

"Yes, I am technically still in a relationship with Ron but that's because the fucking arsewipe has been living it up in Ibiza for the last two weeks while I've been trying to track him down to dump him. And that's something I need to do properly. You're not the only ones who are protective of him. Marcus is already on the radar of the media after that photograph in the Prophet. We, I, need to tread very carefully with Ron and the public's perception to be sure he remains above reproach. It's something I have discussed fully with him and that he understands.

"I don't say this to be boastful, it's just a fact: I am a household name in this world and everyone and their mother wants a piece of me. Every aspect of my life is under scrutiny and open for the public to voice their opinion. From what I wear to where I work to who I associate with. Literally everything about my life plays out on an open stage and no one in my life is off limits. Add to the mix that two thirds of that celebrity dynamic stupidly got involved with each other and the whole world watches. Some want to see that post-war happily ever after come true for us. Others want to see how long before we implode on each other. But both will tear him apart if it's even whispered about that he had anything to do with our breakup.

"Having explained all of that, I hope you three understand why I'm not going around to every rooftop in London and screaming out that I'm in love with Marcus Flint. You don't want him to get his heart broken and I don't want his name and reputation to be dragged through the mud. The press is vicious and cruel and unforgiving, as is a majority of the population. I lived through it all when I was with Viktor and back then, I was only fifteen.

"Montague, you were still at Hogwarts at the time so you saw it all first hand. Hell if I remember correctly, you even contributed to some of it. Now take all of that and amplify it by a thousand with Marcus being an adult, a celebrity in his own right, and having a family history of Voldemort supporters. Then add in the variable of dating me. He thinks he can handle it but quidditch celebrity is nothing compared to the invasive shite I deal with every single day.

"I plan to keep what he means to me hidden for as long as I can, not because he's my dirty secret but because I care far too much about him and where this could go, to throw him to the wolves right out the gate. People like me right now, but once word of my breakup spreads, it won't matter to anyone that Ron's been sticking his prick in places it doesn't belong for far longer than I care to think about. All anyone will talk about is how I've once again traded one world famous, pureblood quidditch player for another and that good opinion of me will flip like the drop of a sickle and I refuse to take Marcus down with me while I ride out that storm. I won't allow the world outside of us, make what I feel for him into something sordid nor will I sit back and allow them to attack him for things that were outside of his control. Now if you can't or won't believe that I genuinely care for him and only wish to keep him shielded from what I know will happen to him, then at least believe in your friend's judgment and sense of self worth."

Standing up from the table she tossed several coins to cover the cost of her untouched tea tray and collected her things. Camouflaging the wizarding shop bags to look like parcels from Harrods and Harey Nichols, she tugged them up her shoulder and offered one final parting comment to them as she temporarily lifted the number of glamours that layered her body. Their resulting sounds and looks of shock and discomfort told her that her point was already made but still she spoke so there was no misinterpretation of her actions.

"I genuinely hope we can get past your unfounded animosity towards me, if for no other reason than it will make things so much easier for Marcus if we all can learn to play nicely with each other. Either way, do not ever think that you can stalk me again. Best case you end up looking foolish like you did today. Worst case, I have a traumatic flashback and send you to Saint Mungo's. You read the papers so I know you've seen the reports about my PTSD in the early days following the war." Drawing their attention to the scar from Dolohov, then to the one from Bellatrix, and finally over the liter of scars that were smaller but had added to her damaged psyche, she said, "You don't survive something like this without becoming cast happy with your wand. If you have any other questions or accusations to fling my way, just drop by or send me an owl. You boys know where to find me."

"Hold on!" Warrington urged, as she began to restore her glamours and turn away.

Raising an eyebrow at him, she remained silent but didn't move, waiting for him to speak.

"You said you love him."

"What of it?" She demanded, her cheeks coloring despite her attempt to seem unaffected by realizing they had caught her slip of the tongue.

Clearing his throat, Montague asked, "Did you mean it?"

Her face softened even more as she simply answered, "He makes it hard not to. I don't know who broke his heart or what happened there but whoever she was, she's more foolish than you lot trying to sneak up on a war veteran. You don't let someone like Marcus get away. He's the sort that is unashamed of wanting forever over a string of nameless shags. You hold on to someone like him with both hands because wizards like that are few and far between, especially at our age and with his celebrity, and I plan to do just that.

"Now if you boys will excuse me, I have a date with a chocolate filled crepe, a beautiful red shoe store that has a pair of heeled sandals that are calling my name, and a wayward boyfriend who needs to be dumped."

Cutting a swift path out of the tea room and back up the Alley, she made her way into Muggle London and over to the Christian Louboutin boutique that was closest to Hyde Park in what she thought was record time. Marcus's friends surprised her though, because upon entering the shop and being greeted by Elsie, her favorite sales assistant, they had already been by.

"Someone's made quite the impression," Elsie said, relieving her of her parcels.

Furrowing her brow, Hermione asked, "Excuse me?"

Coming back with a heavy linen note card, she said, "Messrs Pucey, Montague, and Warrington, were led here just a bit ago by a very tired and disgruntled looking Theo - not that that man can ever not look absolutely shagabble. They left an account on file with instructions to be sure you spend an obscene amount and this. I may have been naughty and took a little peek at the note."

"Of course you were," she laughed, taking the card from her as she began to wander the beautiful displays of shoes and handbags.

Hermione,

We hope the rumors of your endless compassion are true and that you may find it in your heart to forgive us. We've been overly protective of Marcus near our lives. He may have a fierce reputation on the pitch but as you know, he has a soft heart and a gentle soul.

Upon overhearing mention of you wishing to keep things private and of you seeing Weasley tonight, we automatically assumed the worst. Where Marcus is an idealist - a very uncommon thing for those in our house - we are realists. We prejudged you based on past experiences with witches in his life and for that we apologize. We should know better than to measure you of all people by the stick of others.

We deeply regret the offense we have caused you in the name of looking out for him and we hope you won't hold our behavior against him. He really is besotted with you and dare we say already in love. If you are amicable, we would like to try again and move forward from our faux pas.

As a token of our apology and extended olive branch, we faced down the beast of a sleeping Nott and demanded he tell us where this red shoe store was that you were headed to. Elsie has our bank information and instructions that you aren't to spend a single knut - or pence as it were - of your own money.

Now go crazy and feed your self proclaimed shoe addiction.

Adrian, Cassius, and Graham

Looking up at Elsie who was smiling like the cat who got the canary, Hermione grinned, "Well you heard the boys, let's do some damage. My boyfriend is two meters tall, so let's not look at anything less than a hundred twenty millimeters today, yeah? His team will kill me if I cause him back problems with always having to bend down to kiss me."