Theretofore on GG:
"I say we take Wigsby's advice... and buy a house," Draco said tentatively, waiting for her response. Hermione stared for a moment, then sighed.
"All right; fine... but only because we'll need somewhere proper to house Troy. Nothing too much; I don't want to spend any more than necessary," she insisted, and he groaned.
"We have to spend G60,000. The more we spend, the better we'll look."
"I don't care how we look. I'm only agreeing to this because I don't want to insult your family... they think enough of me as it is," she said, staring as he beseeched her. Finally, Hermione sighed. "All right, G60,000... but no more. Not a galleon... not a knut more. Clear?" Draco grinned and pressed a firm kiss to her lips.
"I love you, Manny."
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Chapter 12: The Beginning of The End
Marin was seated on the front steps and tapping her toes in anticipation when Hermione opened the gate and started up the path to the front door. She tried to keep her arrival secret, but the creaky hinges gave her away and the dark haired girl sat up straight and at attention, looking around. A wide smile formed across her face as she stood from her seat and turned away, opening the door to bellow her retreat to those within. An elderly, frail-looking woman poked her head from the kitchen at the call and smiled warmly.
"All right, Marin-love. Have fun, and be careful! Call before bed tonight!"
"I will, Sasha!" she called back, then closed the door and grabbed her small overnight bag from the icy ground before running straight for Hermione's arms. She laughed as she caught her sister, spinning part-way to ride out the momentum of the icy walk.
After a heart-felt hug, Hermione pulled back with a smile.
"Have you got everything?" she asked, and Marin nodded her head eagerly, hiking the bag over her shoulder.
"Enough for a week!" she answered happily. "I thought I'd leave some things so I don't have to pack a bag every time."
"That's an excellent idea, love. So, we're ready to go?"
"I think so. You look great, Manny."
"I look like a blimp, but thank you," Hermione answered with a laugh. "Draco's waiting, or rather, hasn't realized I've left yet. He's quite into that nappy-table I suggested as a Christmas gift for the baby. Made three scale models out of different kinds of wood to ask which one I'd like the most. Silly boy."
"Is Troy home yet?" she asked excitedly, completely ignoring the rest of the conversation, and Hermione smiled knowingly as she led the way from the modest country home and onto the street.
"No, he isn't," she admitted, unsurprised to see Marin frown and shove her hands into her pockets. Hermione waited a moment for effect before finishing her sentence. "But we'll be picking him up tomorrow morning." A grin lit Marin's face, but she tried to hide it in her scarf and quickened her pace a little.
"So, what are we doing this weekend?" Marin asked to change the subject and save herself from the blush that was coming from more than the cold December air. "Anything notable?"
"Well," Hermione said, linking her arm with that of the younger girl. "I thought tonight we'd spend some quality girl time together and let Draco finish the baby-table, and then tomorrow we'd go and pick up Troy before starting on the nursery. That is, if you want to help. If not, I-"
"No, no- I do. I've watched enough home-improvement on the telly to be a pro at that," she insisted and Hermione laughed before lifting a hand to catch a cab.
"That's settled then. As for Sunday, that's up for grabs. Maybe I'll sleep all day and send you kids out for the afternoon," she said, sending a sly look over her shoulder as she entered the cab, and Marin pouted half-heartedly when she realized the suggestion was a joke and nothing more.
After both women and Marin's week's worth of clothing were all packed into the cab, Hermione dictated to the man and they sped the few miles to her newly acquired home in peace and trivial conversation.
Marin leapt from the car when it stopped and left Hermione alone to pay the tab. She pushed open the heavy iron gate and ran up the path to the house, sprinting across the wrap-around porch, and through the redwood door which led into the living space. Her bag was immediately forgotten in the foyer and Marin followed the identifiable 'whirr' of power tools that seemed to always accompany Draco. It led her through the living room and to the hall beyond it, past the bathroom and into the garage. He was sanding something with an enchant-ric tool, facing away from the door and wearing earphones to protect his hearing.
She snuck up on him, which was not a difficult thing to do, and attacked from behind, winding her arms around his waist and squeezing hard enough to fuse them together. Draco laughed heartily, turning off his sander and sliding his protective goggles to crown his head.
"What's that for?" he asked, smiling amusedly. "It's been what, three weeks? You act as if you haven't seen me in ages." Marin grinned as she released him and shrugged a shoulder.
"It feels like it," she admitted, somewhat sadly, and Draco's smile slightly fell.
"Are they treating you all right? You've been getting enough to eat? Clean clothes everyday?" he asked and Marin's only response was a roll of the eyes, so he moved on to more generalized topics. "How are your siblings?"
"We get along all right, most of the time," she said, crossing her arms. "But there's one boy, he's sixteen, and I just can't stand him. He thinks he's worse off than everyone else, and he's always breaking rules and staying out all night. Keeping Sasha up until midnight, and she's too old to lose that much sleep. Clay thinks he's so superior just because he's only got a few months before he's off on his own." She sighed. "I worry about him, though. It's not as if he's really got a future. He hasn't his diploma, and I highly doubt he'd pass the GED test. He'll be just another burger-flipping, dope addicted, welfare case. Still I don't much care for him." Draco shook his head, tossing his arm over her shoulders and leading her out of the wood-stocked garage and into the house itself.
"You know, you've changed incredibly since I first met you, love. I'm... proud of you," he said and, with no words by means of reply, Marin blushed at her shoes. Taking the hint of her embarrassment, Draco again changed to a more light-hearted subject. "So," he said. "Four weeks and still no one's been maimed? I give it an O."
"Actually," Marin cut in, smirking. "Benny, the six year old, broke his arm. No fault of mine though; he fell off the monkey bars at school."
"Well, imagine that," Draco noted, staring in mock-wonder at the ceiling. "Hm... E, then."
"What are 'O' and 'E'?"
"Outstanding and Excellent. Grading system at Hogwarts, you see. I'm sure Troy'd love to explain it to you. He'll be coming home tomorrow; you know," he told her, though he had a sneaking suspicion she'd already been told- given away mostly by the fact that she hadn't asked yet. Marin attempted with much success to quell her rush of adrenaline at the reminder.
"I know. Manny told me."
"Speaking of whom," Hermione said, appearing in the doorway with a caddy of tea. "'Manny' also would appreciate it if you'd put away your things, as opposed to dropping them in the middle of her foyer." Marin rolled her eyes and left Draco's embrace in order to comply with her hostess' wishes.
She jogged through the entry-room and grabbed her bag without pausing, then proceeded to march up the staircase and onto the second floor. As Marin had been to the house a few times before, she was quite aware of where her room was located and made a bee line toward it.
When Marin had last seen her bedroom, it had been papered in a light blue, floral pattern and the matted beige carpets held indentations, but no furniture. She had assisted Draco and Hermione in the purchase of their home, but did not have the time to stay and help decorate. They had embarked on a house-hunt after the entirety of Marin's birthday cake had been consumed, and Hermione looked into social services the very next day. Being somewhat influential in the ministry, though she held no true connection with the infamous Harry Potter, Hermione was able to schedule a hearing in wizarding courts. Because Marin was a muggle, it did take longer to have the court date approved than it would have in the case of a magical child, but she was not about to complain about a mere forty eight hours.
Marin was administered a diluted truth serum, questioned, and released within an hour. She spent that night, as well as the two before the trial, with Hermione and Draco, and the very next day was introduced to Sasha, who was to be her foster mother. Marin would much rather have stayed within the guardianship of her keepers, but their lack of stable work, low income and (at the time) failure to provide adequate housing left the option entirely closed.
As per Sasha's protocol, Marin was required to spend one solid month at her new residence without seeing or speaking to Hermione or Draco. The effects of this isolation would be to force the new environment on Marin and establish her siblings as her friends. Against the rules, she snuck a midnight phone call on the one-week anniversary of their goodbye, successfully scaring Hermione into a conniption, to assure them that she would be fine on her own until her sentence was served.
Now, Marin walked into her room- expecting the drab, desolate empty space she had last seen- and nearly fell back in surprise. The room was far from what she every could have imagined; the ceiling was painted a dark blue and dotted with stars, the floor was covered in a grey, plush carpet which mocked the appearance of cobblestone, and the walls were painted in mossy stone, with windows outlined as port holes. One extra window had been added to the tower-like structure, providing a painted view of the Hogwarts Lake and Quidditch pitch. She dropped her bag and let out a shriek, jumping onto the authentic Hogwarts four-post bed, complete with a black duvet embossed with the four-house crest.
-x- -x- -x-
Troy waited for almost an hour, pacing in front of the train station barrier, contemplating exactly how he planned to tell Marin what he had pledged to tell her. They had been communicating secretly through midnight owl since he'd gone back to school, the same day she had moved in with her new family. Before that, Troy had attended his mother's funeral, received a bag of gold and a pat on the head from his father, and done a good bit of sulking. Though she had only known him for a few days, Marin had taken it upon herself to comfort him, and provide him with an unbiased someone to talk to. It was only later, in retrospect, after he had kissed her softly in goodbye and expressed his thanks in words, that Troy realized the true gift she had given him. It was only the following evening, as he sat in his dorm and contemplated Arithmancy, something as foreign to Marin as the eighth grade was to him, that he realized how insensitive he had been.
She had been hurting, too. His mother had died, yes, but he had never really known her. He had known the sight of her bedridden body, the plots of her delirious tales of fictional lands, the clammy feel of her hands on his skin, and the strange, childlike possession which had taken him over whenever she had fallen ill, but he didn't know his mother. If she was feeling well, he was at school. The summers he spent with Draco or his aunt, but never with her. It was the prospect of losing his mother that made him so upset. The fact that the only parent he had left would rather have damned him to psychological confine in an institution than to accept responsibility over him.
Troy had relayed all of this information to Marin in the few days before he had been sent back to school. They had gone to the park, or to one of the forgotten pieces of furniture at the back of Draco's shop, or once to Hermione's old apartment to plead with Faye to supply them with ice cream, and had lain or lounged or sat together, and she had listened patiently with a little frown marring her olive toned face, as he talked for endless hours. When Marin had spoken, it was only to offer her condolence, or to suggest a method of action, or simply share her opinion on what he was feeling. But never once did she mention anything about herself.
She had been going through what must have been the worst time of her entire life, and Troy had accepted her offer of comfort rock when he should have reversed the roles. She was the woman in their relationship; he was supposed to be her shoulder to cry on... and instead he had rested his problems atop her heavily laden shoulders.
It was only then, many hours since he'd seen her, that Troy realized what he had so blind and selfishly done, and he vowed to make it up to her. His first course of action, another decision made without thinking, was to owl her with an incredibly long and drawn out letter of thanks and apology. Much to his surprise, she answered back with a lighthearted 'don't mention it' and proceeded to tell him all about one of her siblings, whom evidently reminded her of him. From then on, the midnight exchange became almost nightly, and had been for the entire month.
As he paced the doorway, Troy was very aware that Marin resided right beyond its crevice. She had told him last night in her letter that she would be waiting with Hermione and Draco to pick him up, to take him back home where they could finally be together again. In honesty, Troy wasn't sure if he was ready to see her.
Knowing that he would have to come out eventually, he whistled for his trunk (which quickly sprung to life and scurried after him like a loyal pet) and stepped through the barrier.
"There you are, Scout," Draco's voice boomed, opening his arms. "We thought you'd gotten lost."
"Course not. Not the first time I went through the barrier," Troy said, producing a lopsided smile. "I just had to talk to a few people. I'm sorry I kept you waiting."
"That's all right, Troy," Hermione said, placing a hand on his shoulder and a kiss on his cheek. "Are we all ready, then?"
"Sure," he said, gaze flickering to Marin, who was staring disappointedly at her toes. "Is there somewhere I can put my trunk? I'd rather not have it following me around all day." Hermione laughed.
"Of course. I borrowed a car just for the occasion."
"Great. Mar, will you show me where it is?" he asked and her head snapped up in alarm, as if she had been called on while daydreaming in class. He looked to her expectantly and she gave half a nod, taking a step backward, toward the door. Troy followed.
"We'll be here when you get back," Draco told them and Hermione nodded before mumbling, 'I've just got to find a place to sit down'.
The two teenagers were silent as they wandered from the train station, into the parking lot and to the rusty Chevy that belonged to Faye. After Troy's trunk was tucked safely in the trunk (shrunken slightly to fit), Marin turned away from him and made to open the door, but he stopped her.
"Hey," Troy said, taking her wrists into his hands. "Are you okay? You're quiet. And," he paused, frowning. "you don't really seem happy to see me." Marin shook her head viciously and looked up at him.
"Of course I am. I'm sorry, I just- I don't feel right, right now," she said, struggling to find words, and Troy suddenly looked devastated.
"Oh, no. You're sick?"
"No, no," she assured him, confused at his reaction. "I just don't feel... right. I feel funny. It's nothing, really," she said absentmindedly, lacing her fingers in his.
"I missed you terribly," he told her, stringing from nowhere. Marin smiled at their hands.
"You barely know me," she told him and Troy lifted one set of hands to lift her chin.
"Is that really how you feel?" he asked and she shook her head slightly.
"No."
"Good, because I don't either," Troy said and pushed forward to kiss her softly on the lips. Marin tensed at first, startled by his advance, but relaxed quickly.
"I missed you too," she confessed, breaking free of his hands and wrapping her arms around him, to which he reciprocated. Marin pressed her cheek to the cotton of his Ravenclaw robes and Troy placed a thin kiss in her hair. He held her in silence for a moment, enjoying her scent and the feel of her body against his. He had never been so close to a woman as to feel the imprint of her curves against his pale chest; not until Marin.
"Are you sure you're all right?" Troy asked, breaking the silence just as Marin began to forget her orientation and drift into daydreams. She blinked a few times and pulled back from their embrace, leaving a cold empty space on Troy's person.
"Sure," she assured, crossing her arms to tuck her fingers into the bend at her shoulder. Troy smiled.
"Then let's go," he suggested, placing a hand gently at the small of her back and leading Marin back toward the train station. She looked instantly confused.
"Go where?"
"Well, you didn't think we'd leave without Draco and Hermione did you?" Troy asked her playfully and Marin shook her head.
"No, I suppose not, but I actually hadn't thought of that..."
"Do you trust me?" he asked her and her eyes locked on his.
"The last time someone asked me that, the coffee table turned into a pony and I had the absolute worst night of my life," Marin shared and he lifted an eyebrow.
"All right," Troy granted. "That might change the answer, but the question's still the same." She smiled slightly.
"Of course I trust you. Now, what grave and moral peril did I just agree to?" Marin asked and he laughed, inching his fingers around her waist and pulling her closer to him.
"Well, know now that I would never put you in danger and, if you trust me, you'll believe that."
"You're avoiding my question," Marin accused, lifting an eyebrow at him, and Troy gave a slight nod.
"That's because it's a surprise. I promised you something a while back, and I keep my promises."
"So I should guess?"
"If you want to."
"You're going to use that quirky magic of yours and make me turn into a cat," Marin guessed, and Troy couldn't stop the smile which leaked onto his face.
"Never. It's too advanced, anyway. And maybe even illegal; I'll have to get back to you on that."
"Hm... so something practical then? Are you going to marry me and whisk me away from this troubled lifestyle for favor of a little house in the middle of no where with two rooms and an outhouse?"
"Erm, maybe in a couple years? I can't even afford a ring right now, much less a cottage in the middle of nowhere. Nowhere is an expensive town you know. You'll be lucky if I find something on the outskirts of nowhere. The middle is just right-out," he said and Marin laughed tentatively. For all she knew of this magical world, he could have been telling the truth.
"I give up. I'm out of outlandish ideas," she said, sighing and slumping her shoulders.
"Some of which will be noted for future reference," Troy said, and nodded ahead of them. "There they are." He dropped the hand around her waist and Marin felt sad.
"Are you ashamed of this funny little thing we have?" she asked him softly, slowing her footsteps as to allow more time for conversation before they reached the earshot of their guardians. Troy looked caught off guard.
"What? Why would you say that?"
"You let go of me as soon as you saw them," she said, nodding ahead to where Hermione was lounging on a wooden train-station bench while Draco rested his hand on her stomach and remained raptly engaged in a conversation with her that appeared to be mostly one-sided. "Of all people to masquerade in front of, I'd think-"
"I'm not," Troy said, interrupting her with a burst that seemed more involuntary than planned. "I'm not," he repeated, more calmly this time. "I just, thought it would be odd. We walk away four-day aquaintences who haven't spoken in almost a month, and come back... something else?"
"I suppose," she agreed, tucking her hands deeper into her armpits. Troy shook his head and pulled one loose, entwining it in his own.
"What am I saying?" he asked honestly and Marin gave him a sad smile.
"If you're uncomfortable, you don't have to."
"Hogwash," he stated, pecking her forehead softly. "As a matter of fact..." Troy nearly dragged Marin to the spot where they had left Draco and his heavily laden girlfriend. "Draco!" he called as he came to a halt, and the older blond snapped to attention, looking between the two teenagers as Hermione was. "Watch, because I have to show you something."
"All right-" Draco started, but before he could compose his thought, or Marin could articulate a question akin to 'What are you talking about?' Troy had reattatched his lips to hers and had thrown her into a whirlwind of adrenaline. As he pulled away, there was silence among both his partner and their audience. Then, Hermione hoisted herself up.
"Good show, both of you. Now, are we ready to go? Haven't got all day, you know."
Draco moved to take her arm and assist her to the barrier, though she didn't seem to have needed it.
"Erm... sure," Troy agreed, sharing a look with Marin, who was recovering from an emotional overdose and did need assistance in walking through the barrier. She regained her sense of self once they reached the other side.
"Cor," she gasped in awe at the blood-red train that was still parked on its tracks. As she watched, it disappeared into thin air. "That's amazing. Where did it go?"
"Back to Hogwarts I expect. Or somewhere equally far away," Troy told her and literally needed to pull her along to keep up with Hermione's swollen ankle-ed pace.
"Where are we going?"
"Aren't you just full of questions? I told you; it's a surprise. Now, close your eyes, because we're going there by floo and soot makes a nasty contact solution." Mutely, Marin did as she was told and basked in wonder as she felt herself be squished into a fireplace with Troy and, after he had spoken some unidentifiable words, pelted with wind. "We're here."
"Already?" she asked and Troy laughed.
"Quite efficient, isn't it. Now, don't open your eyes. This is where you've got to trust me."
"I do," Marin repeated, and Troy placed a soft kiss at her temple. He led her through noisy streets, in which Marin heard a hundred expressions she'd never heard of. "What the bloody hell is bobotuber pus? It sounds disgusting."
"It is, in more ways than one. Be quiet, or people will think you're not from around here."
"I'm not," she reminded him, and Troy sighed, squeezing her shoulders.
"I know, but the fewer people who know that the better. Most magic-folk are amazed by muggles. You'd either be treated like a celebrity, or you'd be burned at the stake. I'd rather not find out which," he explained and she shivered.
"Point taken."
"It's not much farther, I promise. Are you feeling better?"
"What?" Marin asked, but then recalled her confession earlier. In reality, she had simply been disappointed that he had not so much as spared her a glance when he walked through the barrier between platforms. She had spent the previous night imagining their fairytale-like, glorious reunion; complete with fireworks and moonlight and dancing, and he hadn't bothered to look her way. Her impression had been farcical and senseless, but it had been something. A something quite opposite of reality. "Oh," she said, realizing she had yet to answer him. "Yes, very much so," Marin assured, and it was the honest truth. She smiled.
"I'm glad," he said, rubbing his thumbs against her shoulder blades. They were quiet for the remainder of the short trip, and Troy squeezed her again before speaking. "All right, we're here. Feel the fence, there?"
"Yes."
"Hold out your hands," he commanded softly and she agreed, holding them forward and toward the unknown. "Now, just be patient." Marin waited, feeling the cool, dying autumn air lace through her fingertips and then, was surprised when a very wet nose placed itself within her palms and sneezed into them. She laughed in surprise. "You can open your eyes, Marin." She heard Troy say from behind her as he tied his hands around her waist, and she followed his instructions; blinking against the sunlight. Her eyes grew alive and alight at the sight in front of her, and the animal licked at the wetness in her palm, as if in apology.
"Troy," she said, somewhat breathlessly. "Troy, it's a..."
"A unicorn, I know." She turned to him slightly, keeping her eyes on the mythical beast as if anticipating it to run quickly away at realizing who it was his sneeze had contaminated.
"But you said that you can only touch them if you're pure, like they are," she reminded him, and he nodded against her shoulder.
"I did," he agreed.
"But..." she started, biting her lip against the tears, "but I'm... not."
"Marin, there are lots of kinds of innocence. You lost one of the ones that no one should ever lose, one that was taken from you against your will. They know that, Mar, and they won't resent you for it." Marin ran her fingers down the single, spiraled horn that spouted from the animal's head. It was covered in a soft, velvet-like fur and was warm to the touch. The unicorn also seemed to enjoy such treatment. She did not ask any more questions and continued to stroke the soft white fur until the animal had decided that it was no longer her turn, and licked her palm once more before moving on to a little boy, who was sitting patiently on the leaf-covered grass, nursing day-old scraped knees and picking at the red paint which covered the fence. Marin watched his face light up at the sight of the creature, and did not feel disappointed that it had left her. She turned to Troy, who was standing patiently by her side, his arms around her loosely.
"Thank you for bringing me here," she told him softly, and he smiled.
"I promised I would," Troy said and paused. "Now, we should go meet Draco and Hermione." Marin straightened, as if just noticing that their mentors had left them.
"Oh," she said. "Where are they?" Troy did not speak, but pointed over her shoulder. Marin turned partway, eyes following the line that his arm created. Her pupils widened. "You mean...?"
"Right," he noted, grinning. "Hogwarts."
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A/N: I'm not even going to begin an explanation. And don't expect much improvement, either. This was completed on a lucky no-homework night. Don't get much of those anymore.