Three years had passed before Hermione saw Marcus again. After further fallout with the Weasleys, Hermione threw herself into her career as a Potions Mistress, focusing on using Muggle genetics to improve health outcomes. One of her potions had decreased deaths from Dragon Pox by eighty percent. Currently, she was working on improving birth rates within the magical community.

Her preliminary research indicated that there was a lack of genetic diversity, especially in pureblood marriages, which was causing an increase in miscarriages. She wrote frequently for various Potions journals, and found that she was well respected in the medical community, although every now and again she got some flack from the stuffy old purebloods that couldn't leave the war in the past.

She never dated, instead choosing to stay in most nights, although occasionally she would join her friends for nights out at the pub. For some reason, she couldn't shake the memories of Marcus Flint. To her immense embarrassment, he still featured in the vast majority of her fantasies. She knew that she should give it up, because he never tried to contact her after their one night together and she felt silly hanging on for so long. He was just a silly, school girl crush, so why couldn't she let go?

Harry, who had initially planned to be an auror, found himself overwhelmed by the training. He wanted to live a normal life for once, instead of fighting all the time. He decided to leave the dark wizard catching to other people for a while. Instead, he took a job as a seeker coach for the Appleby Arrows. With his help, they'd climbed from mid-table in the league to the top five.

Hermione was so proud of what her friend was able to accomplish and how happy he was with his career change. They remained the best of friends.

So maybe that was why she agreed to attend the Arrows annual Christmas party as Harry's date. "Please, Hermione? Management has insisted that we all bring dates, and I don't want to ask someone else and give them the wrong idea," he begged, knowing that she wouldn't read more into it than there was.

She could never say no to his bright green eyes. So, she'd dolled herself up in a short, green cocktail dress, put on makeup, and even applied liberal amounts of Sleek-Eazy potion to her hair to make it fall around her shoulders in voluminous waves. Even though she had Harry were just friends, she wanted to look good enough for Harry to be proud to have her on his arm. She didn't want him to feel embarrassed of her in front of his bosses.

Hermione and Harry got to the party fashionably late and spent the first half hour talking with the manager and his wife. Before long, though, dinner was called and Hermione found herself staring across the table from Marcus Flint himself.

Looking over at his unchanged features - still ruggedly handsome, in an odd sort of way, with thick, broad shoulders and dark blue eyes, eyes that had once memorized her naked form - Hermione felt all of her breath leave her, as they made eye contact.

Marcus looked even more surprised to see her.

Hermione bit her lip at seeing his date, a gorgeous blonde with a perfect body - of course. Hermione felt rather inadequate in comparison. Of course that was the kind of girl that Marcus prefered, nothing like bookish, little Hermione Granger.

With Harry distracted by the chaser that was sitting on the other side of him, Hermione felt compelled to make conversation with Marcus anyway. "I didn't know that you played for Appleby, Marcus," she offered with a smile.

Marcus seemed flustered that she was actually talking to him. "I got traded over the summer transfer window," he told her, a bit curtly. Marcus, recognizing how clipped his tone was, suddenly winced. "So, are you and Potter an item then?" he asked, a vein of disappointment evident in his tone.

Hermione shook her head with a laugh. "No, Harry and I are just friends. We've been through way too much to ever be together that way," she answered, remembering all the time that she and Harry had spent together in the tent.

She thought she saw a hint of relief flash over his face, before shaking her head. Why would he care who she was dating? Marcus looked at through his eyelashes, before speaking again. "Well, save a dance for me, then, Hermione. After dinner?"

Hermione agreed, albeit a bit hesitant. She didn't want to read more into it than there was.

Harry then got her attention, by grabbing onto her knee. "I didn't know you knew Marcus," he whispered into her ear.

Hermione shrugged her shoulders. "Not well, of course, but we are casual acquaintances," she reassured him. Cringing, she thought that even acquaintances seemed simultaneously too strong and not strong enough to classify the relationship that she and Marcus shared.

After dinner, Marcus made good on his request and asked her to dance. Hermione gladly took his hand and allowed him to pull her body tightly against his. How she missed feeling the hardness of his body pressed against her, his large hand resting on the small of her back.

The intimacy of the dance had Hermione longing for what they had before and gave her hope of what might happen now that they had reconnected. But, in what seemed like a blink of an eye, their dance was over and Hermione dutifully returned to Harry's arms to dance the rest of the night away, unable to shake the memory of Marcus's strong arms from her mind.

Just when she thought about approaching him again, she spied him across the dance floor, dancing with his date. Watching the seemingly perfect woman rub herself provocatively against Marcus had Hermione's heart breaking all over again. Unable to tear her eyes away from them, she felt hot tears form in her eyes.

Harry returned from the bar with a pair of cocktails with them, only to notice Hermione seemingly very upset for a reason unbeknownst to him. "Hermione, love, what's wrong?" he asked.

Hermione sniffled a little bit before turning to her oldest friend. "Oh, it's nothing Harry, I am just being silly. But, I think I might like to go home now. I feel like I've already embarrassed myself," she said, a pretty blush staining her cheeks.

"Sure, we can leave," Harry conceded, before adding a caveat. "But only if we have some drinks back at yours and you tell me what all this is about."

Hermione smiled before wiping a stray tear that had escaped her eye. "Of course, Harry."