Despite the lacklustre date that Marcus had taken Hermione on, she couldn't stop her mind from drifting to thoughts of him. That week, she'd even been caught daydreaming by her boss. She wasn't the kind of girl that really wanted to be whisked off to Paris, but she was touched by the thought, even though she thought that perhaps Marcus didn't know her that well.

She'd been quite put out by how late he was, until she revealed that she'd gone on a date with Marcus to Harry. Her best friend, with a bright blush on his cheeks, admitted that he'd kept the chasers very late, running drills. Hermione couldn't stay mad at Harry, but she also found it a little bit heartwarming that Marcus didn't try to make excuses or blame his tardiness on Harry.

When his owl arrived midweek, asking her to go to a farmer's market on Saturday morning, she had been pleasantly surprised. That was much more her speed, and she was excited to see what kind of things a wizarding farmer's market had. It was still mid-January, so Hermione decided to dress warmly, wearing muggle jeans and a cashmere sweater, in gray.

Marcus arrived at her flat promptly at nine o'clock in the morning, when they had agreed to meet, looking well. He leaned in for a kiss on her cheek, which caused Hermione to blush and grin up at him. The spot on her cheek where his lips had fallen still tingled afterwards and she had to resist reaching her hand up to touch it.

He apparated them to the entrance of the farmer's market, which was held indoors, inside of a building made entirely of clear glass. Unfortunately, it was very overcast outside, but Hermione was sure that it was lovely in the sunshine. Marcus led her through the stalls of the market, tentatively reaching to grab her hand. He smiled to himself when she didn't resist at all, instead tightening her grasp around his hand.

Hermione thought that the market reminded her a lot of the Camden Street markets, which she tried to explain to Marcus. To her immense surprise, he seemed quite interested in the idea that muggles would have something similar. "Would you like me to take you to visit there sometime?" Hermione asked him, a hopeful smile on her face.

She was surprised when Marcus agreed heartily. Most wizards wouldn't be caught dead in the muggle world. It seemed that he just really wanted to spend time with her, and the location of it didn't matter at all.

After a while, Hermione's stomach started to grumble. "Did you not eat breakfast?" Marcus asked her, after laughing at a particularly loud rumble.

Hermione blushed and let him know that she hadn't gotten the chance to eat anything. He spied a little restaurant at the edge of the building and guided her towards it. They decided to have a bit of a late brunch together.

When Hermione was tucking into her omelette, she asked how Marcus was finding Appleby, and if he enjoyed being on that team or did he miss Montrose. "Honestly, I will probably always miss Montrose," he told her, being uncharacteristically open with her. "It was my first club, and I spent so many years there."

Hemione nodded in understanding. She couldn't imagine what it would be like to face former teammates. "When do you play Montrose next?" she asked, truly curious.

"Actually, we play them next week," he said with a smile on his face. "We play the Canons tomorrow." He stared at her face for a moment, before coming up with a great idea. "Hey! You should come to the game. I can get you really great box seats."

Hermione bit her lip. "I don't know...I am meant to watch Harry's godson, Teddy that day."

Now that he'd had the idea, he wanted nothing more than for Hermione to come cheer him on. "Bring him with. I am sure that Potter won't mind. And, I will even get you a jersey to wear," he offered eagerly. Marcus could already imagine her wearing a jersey with his name on her back.

"Well, alright. I will just have to double check with Harry. But it might be fun," she said with a small smile. Marcus made her heart flutter, when he was so passionate about something. One might be mistaken and think that his eyes were flat, but they really sparkled when you got to know him.

Just as Marcus was about to thank her for agreeing, he was surprised to hear his mother's voice. "Marcus! What are you doing here?" His mother marched right up to the table and looked down at Hermione. "And who is this?"

"Mother, this is Hermione Granger," Marcus introduced her to his mother. "Hermione, this is my mother, Octavia Flint." Marcus was not ready for the question. He still needed Hermione to agree to be his girlfriend, he wasn't ready to meet each other's families yet!

"Pleased to meet you," Hermione said politely looking over the older woman. Octavia was much smaller than Hermione would have expected, given all the rumors that she was part troll. Her hair was elegantly coiffed. They had hardly spoken two sentences to each other and Hermione could just tell that Octavia didn't like her.

Well, maybe she has the personality of a troll, Hermione thought.

"I can't say the same," Octavia said with a sniff. "Just what are you doing here with my son?" she interrogated Hermione.

"We are here on a date, mother," Marcus said, knowing that this could dramatically escalate. His mother was still a blood purist after all, and she had her heart set on pureblood grandchildren.

"Oh, really, Marcus, how could you be seen out in public with a mudblood," Octavia spat, not giving Hermione a second look.

"Mother!" Marcus cried, aghast. "Don't call her that. Hermione is muggleborn, yes, but she is bloody smart, too. And I really like her." Marcus tried to catch Hermione's eyes, but he could see her shoulders tight in humiliation.

"I just don't see why you can't date someone nice like Daphne Greengrass," Octavia groused. "Her sister has already given the Malfoys a pureblood heir."

"Because that's not important to me, mother. Now, could you please leave? I was having a nice time with Hermione before you showed up," Marcus pleaded.

"It's alright, Marcus. I should really get going anyway," Hermione said, feeling embarrassment surge through her body. "Thank you for breakfast."

And with a pop, she apparated back to her flat.