Happy Saturday, peoples! Lemon Alert, I repeat we have a lemon alert. If you do not like lemons and wish to avoid them, you can stop when they leave the ballroom nothing else of real note occurs. Until the last 15 paragraphs of dialogue from the next morning. Enjoy!
Usual disclaimer: I own nothing! I am just playing in the sandbox and will put everything back when I am done.

Chapter 22 Dancing

Hermione wrote to Viktor. She gave him a brief summary of what had happened and the changes to her life since the last time they had spoken or written. She offered to let Marcus read the letters, but he declined, "I trust you. You say he's just a friend, then I have nothing to worry about." He responded with a promise to catch up during the event. She offered to let Marcus read the letters, but he declined, "I trust you. You say he's just a friend, then I have nothing to worry about."

As the host of the previous World Cup, the British Ministry hosted the opening events. Pucey Hotels would be hosting everything, including complimentary rooms for invited players. Adrian translated for Hermione, "That means the players that have been ordered to attend. Happily, you have a connection and therefore will have the best rooms. Want a hot tub, pet?" Marcus slapped him upside the back of his head. While Hermione shook her head in bemusement.

Marcus ensured Hermione knew she had an open invitation to stay with him, and regardless of her decision, he had zero expectations for the weekend. His assurances emboldened her to pack sexier nightwear and select risque knickers. If she decided she wanted to take that step, she would have something to help express her interest. She also packed her regular sleepwear. If she decided against it, Marcus never needed to know she contemplated it.

Graham invited Marcus to get dressed in his hotel room, allowing Hermione and Luna to use Marcus's. Adrian arranged for one of the hotel's hairdressers to make a house call to the suite. After taking a look at the dresses she created stunning hairstyles to compliment them. Both had selected recreations of vintage 30s Chanel gowns. Luna chose a dark charcoal colored trumpet shaped silk dress with a lace overlay. The bottom of the bell flared out with three layers of ruffles. To compliment her darker coloring Hermione wore a gold sequined modified A-line with a small train. The neckline and back had straps connecting to the collar.

"Um, Mione, are you going to be wearing a bra?" Luna asked.

"Nope, Mum had one sewn into the dress."

"You should let that slip to Marcus," Luna teased.

"I think I would rather surprise him with the idea at the end of the night. He hates these things enough as it it."

"Tell Adrian and watch his brain melt?" she counter suggested.

"Now that is tempting."

Despite the offer to borrow something, Luna wore her mother's pearls. Though she showed Hermione that she kept her emergency portkey with her in some fashion, this time as an anklet. Hermione accented the gold color with chocolate diamonds in her ears and on her wrist. She checked her appearance in the mirror, "I think we both clean up rather well."

"The boys won't know what hit them," Luna agreed.

A knock at the door at exactly seven heralded the arrival of their escorts. Just to be certain, Hermione peeked through the peephole. She opened the door for Graham and Marcus. "Good evening, gentlemen. Can I help you?"

Graham laughed, "I'm looking for a stunning blonde, have you seen one?"

"Through there," she pointed into the room. Marcus leaned against the door frame."And you, good sir?"

"I'm supposed to escort this gorgeous creature downstairs, but she looks too sexy. I've decided to convince her to skip everything and stay up here."

"To what end?"

"To keep her all to myself," he leered.

"Don't be absurd, this is your work thing, not mine."

"Damn, I was afraid you would remember that. I suppose we have to go then," he sighed.

"Well, you do." She reached up and straightened his tie, "But since you asked so nicely, I'll go with you and keep you safe from all the groupies massing in the lobby."

He kissed her, "My hero." He looked over her into the room, "Oi, Montague, let's get a move on. Pucey's waiting."

"So is the press," he shot back. Hermione groaned.

"Relax, you aren't Hermione Granger anymore. Skeeter should think twice about attacking Hermione Lestrange." Luna assured her.

"I think you overestimate her intelligence."

"While everyone has access to the lobby, only approved reporters and photographers will be inside. And they all know if they upset you, they upset me. They upset me and they may not be invited back into the events." Marcus comforted her.

"Or, he'll break their heads. Either, or, ends badly for them." She laughed at Graham's joke.

In the lift, a thought occurred to her, "In the muggle world athletes are expected to pose for photographs before things like this."

Marcus squeezed her hand, "Only for a few." Her face paled, "Hermione, what's wrong? I can't help if you don't tell me."

"The last time I dated a famous quidditch player complete strangers sent me hate mail, the dangerous kind."

Luna stepped closer, "You are a different person than last time, stronger. If anyone is stupid enough to send hate mail you will deal with it. And this time you aren't a muggleborn without family," she whispered the last part.

"You're right."

Adrian and his date met them just off from the lobby. The statuesque blonde sized up Hermione and Luna, dismissing them as harmless with a disdainful sniff. She turned to Adrian, whining, "Can we go in now? I want to see the reactions to my dress." The dress in question began just above her butt and ended just below her crotch.

"Sure, babe. Manners first, this is Marcus and Hermione, and Graham and Luna. Everyone this is Emerald."

"Hello," Hermione greeted politely.

"Whatever. Baby-Boo, the photographers are waiting," she whined again.

'Baby-Boo?' mouthed Marcus to Graham in amusement. That phrase would be haunting Adrian later. They followed the couple into the area set aside for the press outside the large ballroom. Emerald posed and preened as flashbulbs went off. The drama queen reveled in the attention so long a frowning Adrian had to pull her away.

Marcus led Hermione forward. Numerous reporters called out asking her name. Photographers yelled for Marcus to give them a smile. His only response was to slide his arm around her waist. At some unseen signal, he took her hand, "We can escape now." Graham and Luna took their place.

"This is only at fundraisers or publicity events," he assured her. "And now we are free to mingle until dinner. Then we endure the endless speeches. After we are rewarded with dancing and desserts. Coach Campos said we could leave around 1 am." He steered her towards their assigned seats.

"Herminny," she turned, recognizing the voice.

"Viktor!" she waited for him to finish making his way over. "I am so happy to see you." She gave him a hug. "Do you know Marcus?"

"Mostly by reputation. We met briefly during Tournament," he grinned and offered his hand. "And your glowing letters."

"She told you about me?" he sounded surprised as he shook Viktor's hand.

"Ten pages dedicated to you," Viktor laughed.

"He's exaggerating," Hermione protested.

"Very little," he grinned at her. "I talked pretty table attendant to place us at same table."

"Of course you did," she laughed.

"Plenty of time for chat chit," Viktor told her.

"Chit chat."

"Yes, that." He kissed Hermione's cheek. "See you at the table." He waved to Marcus as he walked away.

She smiled up at her boyfriend, "Okay, what now?"

"We mingle. You don't have to say much, Merlin knows I never do." He offered her his arm. "This way, fair lady." He escorted her around the room, making instructions here and there to people he knew. Many were excited to meet the newly returned Lestrange Heir. She laughed at bad jokes, smiled through boring stories, and managed to fake her way through small talk. She experienced palatable relief when the signal sounded for them to return to the tables.

"So, mila, enjoy your first round of mingling?" Viktor teased.

"First, sod off. Second, not your mila anymore, remember?"

"You are correct, my apologies."

"Did you come solo, Viktor?" Hermione asked.

"I brought Britta, she keeps the vultures and press away."

"Britta is Viktor's sister," Hermione informed Marcus and Adrian.

Hermione exchanged stories with Viktor, remembering to include the others. She laughed and joked with her old friend, happy to have someone besides Luna without reservations about the changes in her life only wanting her safety and happiness. Neville remained neutral and the twins were apprehensive about Death Eaters. Viktor expressed his joy that she was free from her redheaded tyrants.

Through the dinner speeches, Hermione gave every impression of paying perfect attention. In reality, she drew random patterns across Marcus's thigh, smirking every time he reacted. "Unfair, little dove."

"So bored. Why do all officials love to hear themselves talk?"

"Captive audience, I suppose, they know we can't escape."

"So annoying," she whined.

"Almost finished, this should be the last repetition of international goodwill and healthy competition."

"Promises, promises," she muttered.

After an eternity of officials droning on about the same topics, the Head of the International Quidditch Foundation stepped forward, "Our last announcement for the evening is the location of the next World Cup. This go-round, Spain will have the honor of hosting." He gestured towards the Spanish delegation. One of whom waved to the polite applause. "And now in the spirit of friendship, let us celebrate." He exited the stage as musicians took their places.

Marcus captured her hand on his thigh, "May I have the first dance?"

"You may." She stood and joined him on the dance floor. "Any unspoken etiquette I need to know?"

"WAGs can be sharp tongued, ignore them, or give as good as you get. And please don't hex them bald."

"I can play nice." She gave him an innocent smile.

"We also get dance as many times as we want and you can refuse anyone you want."

"I like the sound of that," she moved closer.

"We just have to stay until one."

"You know Ades and Graham will want a dance."

"Maybe not Graham," he teased.

"He is rather smitten with Luna isn't he?" she smiled. "But Ades will ask just to tweak your nose."

"Undoubtedly."

She twinkled up at him, "And Viktor will want one."

"He's your friend, I expect he would." He smiled down at her. They spent the next two songs, moving with the music, staring into one another's eyes smiling.

Adrian delighted in cutting in, "You had two songs, my turn." He spun Hermione away, leaving Marcus standing in the middle of the floor before he headed towards the bar.

Viktor waited until towards the end of the evening to claim Hermione for a dance. "You look happy. Britta is correct, you glow," Viktor teased. "He gives this glow?"

"He does."

"There is the confident witch that Dumbledore kept hidden. I haff missed her."

"I missed her, too," she whispered.

"Your new family treats you well? Things go well?"

"Yes, Viktor, everything is fine, thank you."
"You are special witch. You deserve only best."

"I appreciate the sentiment, I do," she trailed off.

"But you can take care of yourself," he laughed.

"You know it." At the end of the song, he escorted her back to the table.

She slipped into the seat next to Marcus, who entertained Britta at Adrian's expense. "Hermione," he whined, "your new boyfriend keeps telling your old boyfriend's sister embarrassing stories about me."

"Did you consider he's doing it because you keep referring to Viktor as a boyfriend?"

"He wouldn't!"

"Embarrass you because you are annoying him? Yes, he would, Baby-Boo," she laughed at Adrian's horrified face.

"That's just cruel," he huffed.

Hermione giggled, "No, cruel is pointing out Emerald is leaving with an Italian player. Now you're the only one going home alone." She leaned forward and whispered so only he could hear her, "And I'm not wearing underwear."

Adrian pouted, "You are a horrible woman."

"So vicious," Marcus nuzzled her neck. "We can leave whenever you want."

"Brilliant," she grinned at him. She jumped to her feet and embraced both Krums, "It was wonderful to see you both. Keep in touch. Luna and Graham already left, so good night, Baby-Boo." She looked at Marcus, "I'm ready."

"Thank fuck, I hate these things. I was ready before we got here." He stood, "Night, Ades," he clapped his mate on the shoulder. "See you around, Krum."

"Perhaps on the pitch," suggested Viktor as they shook hands.

Marcus placed his hand on the small of her back as they crossed the ballroom. He directed her out a side door that opened up next to the lifts. In the lift, Marcus lazily drew patterns on the bare skin of her back, occasionally drifting up the scratch the back of her neck and hairline.

She unlocked the room, the lights flared to life as she stepped inside, indicating her intention to stay the night. "Would you like to change in the bathroom? Cressida does that," Marcus offered.

"Thanks," she took the things she needed with her. She replaced her dress and knickers with a long satin peacock blue negligee, at the knees navy chiffon fell in pleats to the floor. Taking a deep breath, she gave herself a pep talk. "You faced down deranged adults, a werewolf, and dementors. You can walk out there. He's seen you mostly naked, and liked what he saw."

Before she could overthink anything, she moved back into the bedroom portion of the hotel room. Marcus had pulled back the blankets and reclined against the headboard in a pair of joggers. "I hope you don't mind if I sleep topless," his words slowed until he trailed off into silence.

"You should be comfortable," she responded.

"Will you be? Comfortable, that is," he asked.

"Surprisingly, yes." She ran her hands down her stomach. "Very soft. Want to feel?"

He swallowed hard, "Yes, please." She moved to stand next to the bed. He ran his hands over the soft material, the rough calluses snagged the fabric. "You look stunning, little dove."

"Thanks, you look rather yummy yourself."

"Do I?" he smirked.

"You do." Hermione crawled onto the bed next to him. "Last time you tasted me, but I never got to taste you." She waggled her eyebrows.

But if you're tasting me, I can't taste you."

Hermione giggled, "We sound absurd."

"Yeah, we do," he chuckled.

"But we can, uh, mutually pleasure one another if you're interested."

He sat up straighter, "Seriously?"

"Um, yeah unless you don't want to." She felt her bravery waiver."

"Oh, I want to, I really want to. Most girls don't, so, I'm a little surprised is all. In a good way."

"The downside to being friends with mostly guys is they forget you don't have a penis or think as they do. When Dean was describing it I thought it sounded hot." She looked down, refusing to make eye contact.

"Hermione, look at me." He waited for her to raise her face to his, "I am willing to try most things. I draw the line at butt stuff."

"Giving or receiving."

"Receiving. I know some blokes like it, but I am not one of those blokes. If you wanted to try receiving, we can discuss it."

"Noted. And now that the mood is dead..."

"Please, I'm a 22-year-old male. The wind shifts and I can be in the mood." He kissed her deeply, "Oh, look wind change." He cupped her face in his hands kissing her fiercely.

Shutting off her brain, Hermione sank into the kiss. Just experience it, she told herself. She responded to his caresses with gentle touches of her own, pausing to pull her gown off. His breath hitched in his throat at the sight of her naked body. His touch became firmer and more urgent, palming her breasts. She moaned when his mouth replaced his hands. She reached for his joggers trying to push them down. He released her nipple with a wet pop. He tore his clothing off, laying back on the bed naked. Sensing any conversation would derail things for the rest of the night, he silently directed her to face away from him, and straddle his waist. He pulled her back until her slit hovered above his face.

Flattening his tongue, Marcus licked her. She whimpered before turning her attention to his member before her. Both eagerly licked and sucked at the other, moaning as lust pooled and tightened below their stomachs. Hermione's limbs trembled at the edge when Marcus suddenly pulled back. She raised up unable to stop the whining noise that escaped her. "Sorry, little dove, but this isn't how I want to finish, or how soon."

She turned to face him, "How do you want to finish?" she knew the answer, she just wanted to hear him say it.

"Inside you," he caressed her side from breast to thigh.

Warmth spread through her hearing those words, "That's what I want, too." Her core pulsed with desire. She positioned herself straddling him at a better angle, rubbing herself along his shaft.

"Baby, please." Marcus hissed as she moved his tip to her opening. Hesitantly she slid down the shaft, hissing at the feeling of stretching intrusion. She paused, then made a decision. Knowing the loss of her virginity would hurt, she chose to push down quickly, no use prolonging the pain.

She regretted it the second after she did it. A strong sting shot up her spine. She tried to keep it from showing on her face, but a look down at Marcus told her she failed. "Hermione, what's wrong? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, just hurt a bit more than I expected." She wiggled experimentally, "Getting a bit better." Ignoring the residual twinges of pain, Hermione raised up and slid back down, establishing a rhythm. He held onto her hips, urging her to speed up. The pleasant pressure began building again, twisting between her legs. The tighter the feeling became the faster Hermione moved. The tension snapped suddenly, sending her careening over the edge, "MARCUS, holy fuck!"

She slide down to collapse atop him, he swiftly rolled her under him and entered in one movement. She gasped, as every movement felt heightened. He pumped his hips chasing his own release and hers. She clawed at his shoulders as she writhed under him, her hips rising to meet his. She sank her fingernails into his back as she came for the second time. He followed her into ecstasy seconds later.

He rolled to his back, pulling her into his side. She rested her head on his chest. He rubbed up and down her arm, while she traced the pattern of his muscles. She fell asleep listening to his heartbeat.

Sunlight streamed into the room around the edges of the curtains. Hermione opened to eyes to see Marcus watching her sleep. "Good morning," she smiled shyly at him.

"Morning," he pushed her hair back from her face. She grimaced at how sore unused muscles felt in the morning. "Little more than you're used to, huh?" he waggled his eyebrows comically.

"Never had anything to get used to," she shrugged sitting up.

He stared at her stunned by the implications, "Why didn't you say anything? Your first time should have been, I don't know."

"It was everything I wanted it to be." She told him firmly.

"Any protesting otherwise would be seen as questioning you, wouldn't it?"

"Yes. I wanted to be here, with you, like this. Because I love you. And that really is the only prerequisite I need."

A slow goofy grin spread across his face, "You love me?"

"Yes."

"Really?"

"Are you questioning me?" she narrowed her eyes and placed her hands on her hips.

"Never," he pulled her back down the bed hovering over her. "I love you, too." This round he took his time, slowly moving inside her while looking into her eyes adoringly.

The blaring of her alarm interrupted the afterglow. Hermione struggled from his arms, "Have to get moving. I'm expected at Malfoy Manor for brunch. And I need to shower first."

"You don't want to show up reeking of sex?" he teased.

"I'm okay with it if you are? A meal with my father, uncles, and honorary grandfather. I'm sure one of them will think it is funny."

"You're right, off you pop to the shower. Let's go."