A/N: Thank you all so so much for your reviews! You guys are so awesome and it makes me want to work on this story all the time! Thanks for the favorites and follows too! I know the wait was a bit longer this time, but this was such a long chapter, so I hope that makes up for it. I probably should have updated it in two parts.
Here is year three - I would love to hear what you think of it! And be on the lookout for year four soon!
Hermione had written Marcus several times over the summer, but she hadn't heard back from him once. She wanted to know what his plans were now that he was done with Hogwarts. Did he have trials anywhere? Was he getting a job? How had his NEWTs gone?
He hadn't returned a single owl, and by the time that September 1st rolled around, she pretty much had it in her head that he had forgotten about her. And why shouldn't he, Hermione wondered, seeing as he was a young man and she was just a thirteen - nearly fourteen! - year old girl.
She resigned herself to her fate at the beginning of first year where she had no friends and hid most of the time in the library. If she was lucky, the other girls in her year would at least refrain from playing pranks on her. If she was exceptionally lucky, she'd still get a spot on the Quidditch team, but she wasn't holding her breath. She just had to hope whoever was the captain would treat her fairly. Like Marcus did. Had.
Getting on the train, Hermione walked up and down the aisle, looking for an open compartment. Full, full, full. She stopped short when she noticed a compartment with only one occupant, someone she didn't expect to see. Marcus.
Her heart sped up and she quickly opened the door, before slamming it behind her. "Marcus! What on earth are you doing here?" She asked brightly, sitting across from him.
He looked up at her and shrugged his shoulders in greeting. Hermione took the moment to look him over. He looked...tired, with dark circles below his eyes. Sensing that he had a lot on his mind and determined to get to the bottom of it, Hermione raised her wand, sending a locking charm towards the door and pulling the curtain down.
She moved to his side of the compartment, and sat next to it. "Marcus? What's wrong?" She knew something must be wrong if he was back on the Express. He should have already graduated.
"I...had to come back to retake my NEWTs." Marcus said, slowly. He was embarrassed to admit it, especially to someone as smart as Hermione. That he was a failure. But, it couldn't be helped. The end of his seventh year had been so...rough.
First, Hermione had been petrified, and he'd been so angry. He barely studied at all those few months. He'd never admit that to her, though. It was embarrassing and she'd feel guilty for it. Then, he'd found out... "My mum died, right before exams. Didn't go well." He'd tried to take the exams, but when he got to the written portions, he'd just blanked, staring at the empty pages.
Hermione was wrapping her arms around him then, and before he knew it, he was relaxing for the first time in weeks. "I'm so sorry, Marcus." She rested her head on his shoulder and he thought it felt quite nice to have her lean on him. But, he was the one who was leaning on her emotionally. "If you ever want to talk about it, I am hear to listen." She said sincerely. "Or, if you don't want to talk, we can just sit."
Merlin, he felt like a big sap thinking of how much her words comforted him. How did she know exactly how to make him feel better? Make him feel like he could actually get through this year? It was as if some light was actually bleeding back into his world after a long absence. Why wasn't she admonishing him, for ignoring her all summer?
Before he knew it, she was coaxing him into conversation about the latest quidditch tactics. If there was one positive, he got to captain the Slytherin Quidditch squad one more year. With her calm demeanor and bright smiles, his train ride to Hogwarts was over quicker than he imagined and headed back to repeat seventh year didn't seem so bad after all.
Marcus hadn't forgotten Hermione's birthday all last year, and he'd been agonizing over what to get her the entire time until before he knew it it was September again and he hadn't gotten her anything.
He'd been meaning to ask his mother, though he was really sure she would approve of him getting something for a fourteen year old mudblood girl. He could imagine the lecture he would have gotten about if it was proper. And then, of course, she'd died before he could ask her. Marcus had contemplated asking Millie, but he didn't really want to admit that he was going to get Hermione a present either.
In the end, he decided to get her something that would allow her to pick out what she really wanted - a gift certificate to Quality Quidditch Supplies. A rather generous certificate. He was certain she would be able to pick out anything that she wanted from the store, aside from a new broom. And she liked Quidditch, after all, didn't she?
Marcus watched, a horrible nervousness settling in his stomach, as she unwrapped his hastily wrapped box with slender fingers. Merlin, he hadn't felt this nervous since his first Quidditch match at Hogwarts as a gangly second year!
Hermione looked so excited, so happy to be receiving something, anything, from him. What he wouldn't give to see what she was thinking...
But then, Hermione's expressive face told him everything he needed to know. She looked...disappointed. Fuck, he should have just asked Millie what to get her after all! He didn't know what to get for teenage girls! Maybe makeup or chocolates, or fuck, Hermione loved books! He could have gotten her a book.
A smile plastered on her face - a face that was quickly losing its baby fat - she set the box down on the table where she was sitting so that she could wrap her arms around him in a tight hug. "Thank you Marcus! It's too...generous. Fifty galleons is too much for me." She whispered, not wanting to disturb the still of the library.
The hug didn't fill him with the fuzzy warmth that it usually did. Instead, he just felt a bit badly. She'd given him such a thoughtful gift and he realized he didn't know her well enough at all to pick a suitable birthday present. It was awful. His voice was scratchy, but he didn't let off that he was disappointed too. "Nonsense, pipsqueak. I just wanted...I wanted you to pick out whatever you wanted."
Hermione nodded. "Excellent! Well, I can't wait until the first Hogsmeade weekend. I can look around then."
Marcus was only just remembering that this was her first chance to visit the village. He hoped that she would find something she liked. Then he wouldn't feel like such a shit friend.
Hermione gave her all at tryouts, viciously attacking the rings, dodging bludgers left and right. It seemed that Peregrine Derrick and Lucian Bole, the two beaters of the team, were trying extra hard to hit her. She was sure that none of them had enjoyed having a mudblood on their team last year. Messing up her tryouts was one of the only ways to keep her off the squad.
But, Hermione didn't mess up her tryouts. She was accurate, consistent, fast. The way she threw the quaffle wasn't conventional, but it made it even harder for the keeper to stop. She knew that she got a fair chance, just like everyone else trying out for chaser, but she felt that she wanted the spot more than anyone else on the team.
So when Marcus announced that she would be on the reserve team - again - Hermione couldn't hide her disappointment. Marcus pulled her aside after the team was dismissed, but his words did little to ease the hurt. "I'm sorry pipsqueak, but you're just too...small right now."
Hermione was worried. She knew she had a good arm, but she wasn't exactly getting any bigger. Would she ever be good enough, big enough to play Quidditch? Had Marcus gotten her hopes up all for nothing?
She left shortly after, feeling surly about the whole thing, leaving Marcus alone to field questions from the rest of the Slytherin team.
Marcus listened to all the objections to Hermione's spot on the squad. Malfoy was the only one openly complaining about her being muggleborn. "I just don't see what the big deal about her is? She wouldn't last in a game." Warrington, one of the other two chasers, argued. Montague nodded in agreement.
Marcus ran his fingers through his hair, hating that he was having to explain himself. "Listen, I wouldn't give her a spot on the squad if she wasn't good enough. Hermione will be the first off the bench if we need a replacement chaser."
"Sure, her arm is good, but, she's untested. And so small." Montague said incredulously, upset to hear that she'd surpassed even Adrian Pucey in the depth chart.
That didn't matter to Marcus. He knew what he'd seen and he was done talking about it. "She might be small, but she scored the most out of everyone during tryouts. Hermione is the best and she's on the team. If that's going to be a problem for either of you, you should tell me now."
The other two boys, properly chastised, had nothing else to say on the matter. At least, not to his face.
When Marcus joined Hermione in the library - she'd reluctantly let go of her annoyance with not making the first team over a period of weeks - he could tell that she was already annoyed. Still, she didn't complain when he unloaded his charms books in front of him. Marcus didn't study that much, but he was trying more this year since he got another chance at his NEWTs.
He tried to focus on his work, but she just kept huffing, and turning the pages with such voracity that he thought she might rip one of her beloved books. He looked at her pretty face, marred by a sneer. She looked like she had sucked on a lemon and was shaking her head. Finally, he couldn't wait any longer and he just asked her what was wrong. "What's the snitch in your bonnet?"
Hermione's eyes immediately snapped to his. "Did you really move the Quidditch match because of Malfoy?" She demanded.
Suddenly, things snapped into place for Marcus. Malfoy had been injured during Care of Magical Creatures and so Slytherin was able to postpone their game. Marcus shrugged. "Yes. Professor Snape suggested it."
Hermione rolled her eyes, and tried to go back to her work. Marcus was getting annoyed. Why should she be annoyed about that? It didn't hurt for them to be more prepared anyway. "What?" He asked, wanting to get to the bottom of her bad mood.
"For one, we should have just played Higgs. You know he's the better seeker." Hermione crossed her arms over her chest, staring him down. Marcus knew that she didn't approve of the brooms of Lucius Malfoy, but he thought that was settled. "And secondly, Malfoy deserved what he got. He was being a prat in class and the reason he got a little scratch was his own stupidity."
Marcus was going to respond, until he noticed that she was in tears. If there was one thing he didn't know how to handle, it was a crying girl. Looking around, he finally stood before walking over to her side of the desk and getting her attention. "Tell me what's wrong." He said softly. If Hermione was upset, he wanted to do what he could to fix it for her.
"Malfoy is trying to have Buckbeak killed." She said quietly. "But, like I said it's his fault he was hurt, not Buckbeak's."
Marcus was able to connect the dots on that one. Obviously, Hermione was a gentle soul, but it was just a hippogriff. Though he wanted to tell her that, he didn't imagine that it would go over well, so he kept his mouth shut. He didn't understand why she would be so moved by a magical creature. "Maybe when the Ministry hears what happened, they will dismiss it."
Both of them knew it wasn't likely, with Lucius Malfoy involved, but it was comforting to Hermione nonetheless. She let her head drop to his shoulder while she pulled herself together.
Hermione had let the excitement of the first Hogsmeade weekend sweep her away. The other girls in her year were all eagerly giggling every night as the day drew nearer, hoping that someone would ask them. None of them had been asked - to Pansy's vast disappointment - and they had all resolved to go together.
Despite her shock at being invited along, Hermione was excited to go with them. They were starting to warm up to her, though she knew she would never have an easy friendship with any of them.
Daphne Greengrass had convinced her to let her give her a makeover for the weekend. She was giving one to Millie and Tracey as well. Hermione watched in the mirror while Daphne poured Sleek-Eazy potion onto her hair, brushing away all the frizziness and bushiness and leaving behind perfectly straight hair, secured with a thick navy headband.
Tracey picked out a navy dress for Hermione to wear while Daphne put makeup on her face. Hermione didn't think she'd wear it all the time, but she kind of liked the way she looked so...grown up with it on. She looked pretty. Both Millie and Tracey complemented Daphne on her good work, so Hermione knew the others thought she looked pretty too.
At breakfast, Terence told her that she looked nice, surprise on his face, making her blush. She wasn't used to any boy noticing her for more than her smarts or her Quidditch skills, apparently.
She didn't see Marcus until she actually got to the village, and when she thought he almost didn't recognize her at first. He was coming out of Honeyduke's. "Hey Marcus, get anything good?" She asked, leaving the other girls giggling a few steps away.
"Hermione?" He asked, looking her over. He reached out and grabbed a lock of her hair. "What did you do to yourself?"
She blushed again. "Daphne gave me a little makeover for the first Hogsmeade weekend." Looking up into his grey blue eyes, her neck craned - he was really so much taller than she was - she hoped that he liked how she looked. She wasn't sure why, but her stomach was a mess of knots, nervous to be talking to him. Why should she be nervous? It was just Marcus. "Do you like it?"
"No, you look too different." He said, without thinking. Then, he noticed the tears shining in her eyes. "I just...I like how you look normally. Your hair...it always looks wild. Like you've spent the day flying."
But it was too late. He'd already hurt her feelings and she didn't want to hear anything else he had to say. She shook her head, wondering why what he thought he meant so much to her. "Have a good day, Marcus." She said curtly, before returning to the other Slytherin girls.
Professor Snape had told Marcus that he needed to get his grades up at midterm or he wouldn't be able to keep playing Quidditch. Quidditch was just about the only good things about Hogwarts lately, so he knew he needed to make an effort.
He knew who he needed to help him too. Hermione.
It was just that he'd been...well, avoiding her since the Hogsmeade weekend. She'd looked so pretty and it was a bit of a shock really. She wasn't a tiny little first year any more. She was growing up and well, it was a bit odd for him.
Still, he knew that she would help, if he asked, so he lugged his books to the library - the first time in nearly a month - to join her at her table. She greeted him softly, but didn't look up from her own work - ancient runes if he was correct.
He cleared his throat, gaining her attention. "Hermione. I need help with my school work. I need to pass my midterms to keep playing." He knew that he was blushing, embarrassed that he wasn't a better student. "Will you help me?"
One of the things he loved about Hermione was that she didn't look at him with pity or disgust that he was so stupid he had to take the NEWTs twice, when he'd rather be anywhere but Hogwarts. Hermione was understanding of his situation, and genuinely wanted to help, just because she was nice.
She stayed at the library, probably longer than she intended to, helping him set up a revision plan that he promised he would stick to. She even worked in plenty of extra Quidditch time outside of Slytherin practices. When she broke it all down that way, it seemed manageable.
"And you know I'll always be here in the library, if you want a study partner. I can quiz you or read over essays, but I probably won't be able to help much with practicals. You are a few too many years ahead of me, even if Professor Lupin called me the brightest witch of my age." She said, all in a rush, and then blushed as if she was revealing some secret.
Marcus was glad that someone else was finally recognizing Hermione for the wonderful, talented witch that she was. "Lupin seems like a smart bloke. If he thinks you are the brightest witch of her age, it's because you are. You could sit the NEWTs today, and probably pass more than me." He complimented her. He knew that he frequently complimented her on her Quidditch prowess, but that didn't mean he hadn't noticed how smart she was too.
Blushing from the barrage of admiration for her smarts, coming from Marcus of all people, Hermione just gave him a small little smile. "It's Professor Lupin, Marcus. Now do you want to start on your potions essay? I can read it over when you are finished." She promised.
Marcus nodded, and before long they had settled into a companionable silence, each working on their own projects.
Of course, everyone had heard about notorious mass murderer Sirius Black being on the loose, but no one had ever expected him to get into Hogwarts. Then, to hear the more horrifying whispers, that he'd been in the Gryffindor common room, had Hermione shaking like a leaf.
She understood that Sirius Black was just going after Harry Potter - everyone knew he'd sold out the Potters to Voldemort - but, she couldn't argue with Professor Snape that the Great Hall would be safer than the Slytherin common room. Even though on the surface, Black had no reason to get into the common room, he could still be hiding there if he'd somehow got their password as well.
And, Professor Snape assured all the Slytherin students on their way to the Great Hall, the teachers would be patrolling the Great Hall, watching over them. Sirius Black wouldn't be able to get his hands on any one who was there.
She shuffled down to the Great Hall, embarrassed to be seen by all her classmates in a long flannel nightgown, even though all her roommates wore similar sleepwear to bed. Despite knowing that Black was only going after Potter, as a muggleborn, she was still worried. Obviously, Black was a pureblood supremacist, and his actions before being sent to Azkaban only proved this further.
What if he killed her for being a muggleborn polluting Slytherin's noble lineage? Malfoy told her that's what she was doing more often than not.
Hermione stared out at the open cots, thinking that she was going to be much too nervous to fall asleep, even if she was surrounded by her classmates. She stood still, knowing that she should find a spot before all the good ones were taken.
Before she could move though, Marcus was tapping her on the shoulder to get her attention. "Come on, pipsqueak. We're over here." He took her hand and led her over to where some of the other Quidditch players were already on cots. He sat down on one and then indicated that she should do the same with the adjacent one.
"Marcus, I'm afraid." Hermione whispered, her eyes wide with anxiety. He seemed to know what she needed, though, and gave her a comforting smile.
"I won't let anything happen to you." He told her. "I'll even hold your hand, until you fall asleep." He shoved his cot over so that it was closer to hers, so their hands could hang comfortably in between.
Hermione did feel safer with her hand tucked into Marcus's large hand, as though he was swallowing up all her fears in just one grasp. Before long, her eyes were drifting shut. Marcus turned on his side, watching the tiny brunette as she was overcome with sleep. She seemed so fragile and he hated that she was worried. He meant his promise when he said he would keep her safe.
Watching her even breaths, the smooth up and down motion of her chest was hypnotizing, and before he knew it, his own eyes became heavy. He drifted to sleep.
The Gryffindor match couldn't be put off forever, and eventually the day came that they had to face the red and gold. It was a terrible day for Quidditch, in Marcus's opinion, bitter cold and with unusual drafts of wind. Not to mention that the Gryffindors were playing with a ferociousness that even he was surprised by.
It wasn't long until the injuries began to pile up on both teams. Finally, though, Warrington took a bludger to the head, and lost consciousness almost immediately. Madame Hooch halted play to take care of the injured player, while Marcus approached his bench. Looking at Hermione in her Quidditch leathers, he sighed. "Well, Hermione. It's your turn, you're in for Cass."
She looked surprised, like she couldn't believe that he would actually put her in the game. Adrian Pucey looked like he was going to complain, but Marcus silenced him with a glare. Hermione finally realized it was go time, and popped up on her broom, eager to play for real.
Marcus flew next to her. "They are really gunning for us today, so be on the lookout for bludgers. They are trying to hit you more than Bole or Derrick." He was worried about her. Not long ago, he had promised to keep her safe, and now he wasn't sure he would be able too.
Hermione smirked at him, promised she would be careful, and then snatched the quaffle out of his hands. With the whistle resuming play, Hermione was off, bobbing and weaving. She was obviously faster than Gryffindor was expecting, because she scored in less than ten seconds of coming on the pitch!
She played brilliantly, Marcus thought, a prideful smile on his face, running the plays they practiced effortlessly, and racking up more points than Warrington and Montague combined. But, Gryffindor quickly caught on that she was the one to beat.
They attacked her with viciousness, the Weasley twins focusing their bludger hits her way. Bell even tried to kick Hermione off her broom once, but she held on. That was, until she was too focused on the score that she didn't see the bludger headed her way. Marcus flinched, seeing it catch her on the side, knocking her clean off her broom.
He watched as she fell towards the ground. He pushed down on his broom, eager to catch her. She was screaming as she fell, only to let out a surprised gasp when he caught her. "Are you alright, pipsqueak?" He asked.
She caught her breath for a moment. "I'm fine, just get me back to my broom." She insisted, seriousness in her tone. He couldn't argue with her.
At the end of the game - Potter caught the snitch - Slytherin still ended up victorious. Marcus knew that this was a direct result of Hermione's points. She must have had 150 of their 380 points all on her own, he thought with a grin.
The team celebrated on the pitch - except for Malfoy, annoyed at being bested by Potter once again - and Marcus watched as Hermione's smiling face was replaced by a grimace. She grabbed her side, only to collapse to her knees.
Marcus rushed to her side. "Hermione are you okay?" He asked, worried. He scooped her up into his arms, realizing that she wouldn't be able to walk on her own.
"That hit just finally caught up to me." She said sheepishly. He let her know he would fly her to the hospital wing, and ignored the wolf whistles from the rest of them team as he held her in his arms.
Madame Pomfrey was not impressed to see another Slytherin player injured and ushered Hermione behind a curtain to change into the hospital gown. He checked on Warrington, who was still sleeping, before returning to Hermione's bed.
A crack in the curtain revealed her being helped from her jersey, a huge purple bruise on her side from where the bludger hit her. Marcus felt a rage bubble up inside of him. The Weasley twins had hurt his girl, and he wasn't about to stand for it.
Madame Pomfrey met him outside of the curtain. "She's broken five ribs, but it's nothing that can't be fixed over night. You can visit again in the morning."
Knowing that the stern matron wasn't likely to let him speak with Hermione, Marcus let his anger creep up. He was going to get back at those Weasleys.
Bleeding knuckles clenched, Marcus sat in an uncomfortable chair in Professor Snape's office. It had felt good to pummel those gingers for hurting Hermione, and he wasn't about to apologize for it. He felt even better knowing that he was able to take them both on at once, and he still had the upper hand.
It wasn't too surprising, knowing that the twins were tall, but lanky, whereas Marcus was filled out with muscle, intimidating. He was pretty sure he'd broken one of their noses, and if he was lucky, he had broken the other's jaw. Really, he wanted to break as many ribs of theirs as they had Hermione.
But then Professor Snape had arrived and ruined all his plans. A flick of his wand had the brawl separated into two groups, and he sent the Weasleys to the hospital wing. He'd given Marcus a week of detention, which Marcus thought was light.
After an extreme dressing down on his deplorable behavior, Professor Snape had cut him some slack. "However, I realize that you only lashed out in this way as retaliation for a foul committed during the Quidditch match, which injured Miss Granger."
Marcus stared at his Head of House, defiantly, as if daring him to say something negative about Hermione. "I would do it again." He said, proudly.
"Mr. Flint. I realize that you have a surprising...sense of responsibility for Miss Granger, but please think of how your actions will reflect on her. Do not make enemies for her when you leave the school." Snape seemed to be talking from experience, and Marcus couldn't help but wonder just what that experience was. "I know that you care about Miss Granger and I appreciate the feelings which you may have towards her."
Marcus furrowed his brows, confused. Did Professor Snape think that someone romantic was going on between the pair of them? Hermione was just a...just a little pipsqueak. She was too young to be thinking in that way. "Why?" He finally asked the professor.
"Miss Granger reminds me of someone I knew once." Professor Snape said with a shrug. It didn't answer any of the questions that were swirling through his head about the professor, but he could also sense that he wasn't going to get anything else out of the stoic man. "Consider this your first detention. Come to my classroom after dinner tomorrow for the next one."
Considered dismissed, Marcus tried to clear the tempest of thoughts in his brain as he walked back to the common room.
Marcus wasn't entirely sure when it had started, but once he noticed, it hit him like a ton of bricks. Hermione was running herself too thin. She had too much on her plate and it was taking a physical toll on her body.
She was taking a ridiculous number of classes - all of her electives were full. She had Quidditch practice several times a week and then she spent a lot of time in the library, studying herself and helping him study too. Then, she'd started pouring over old law books to try and craft a defense for that oaf, Hagrid, to defend his hippogriff from death. Marcus didn't know how she had enough time to get through it all!
Well, she didn't have time to do it all, obviously.
She had bags under her eyes and wasn't as sharp as she usually was, and it just...it almost made him a little upset. He wanted her to take better care of herself. "When was the last time you got a full night's rest?" He demanded over charms textbooks one night in the library.
Hermione's head snapped up to look at him. "Mm, I don't know Marcus, I've just been so busy lately."
"Well then cut something out." He snapped. "Maybe all this work you're doing for a bloody hippogriff. It's hopeless." He was annoyed that she would put so much work into a creature. Looking at her face, though, he knew he'd said the wrong thing.
"You know, some people would say that helping you study is hopeless." She snapped at him, letting all of the negative feeling that had been boiling up in her out. She saw the hurt look on his face, though, and immediately softened. "Sorry, I shouldn't snap at you. It's just...Buckbeak is important to me. It's not right that Malfoy is trying to have him killed, and that he will succeed just because he is wealthy. I will always fight for the underdog." She revealed. Of course, being a muggleborn in a pureblood house had shown her you always have to fight for what you believed in. What was right.
Marcus softened too, knowing that it was important to her, and even if he didn't understand it, he could still support her. "I understand." He said quietly, his hand reaching across the table to grab hers. "But you will be much more effective if you take care of yourself too. Go back to the common room and get some rest. I will be alright for tonight."
Hermione looked like she was going to argue for a moment, before she nodded. Packing up her books, she wished Marcus a goodnight, before heading to get some quality sleep for the first time in weeks.
Marcus was walking through the courtyard on the way to the pitch to do a bit of flying, when he heard the disruption. Malfoy was taking the piss out of Hermione and she was having none of it. "I can't wait to see that overstuffed peacocks head roll." Malfoy snickered.
"How dare you laugh about this Malfoy!" Hermione said, clearly enraged. "Your stupid family ruins everything that it touches." She hissed.
Marcus rounded the corner, only to see Hermione with her wand drawn and Malfoy cowering, even Crabbe and Goyle unable to do anything. When she hesitated and pulled back, all of Malfoy's cockiness came back to the front. "That's right you stupid mudblood! Walk away from your superior."
In a blink of an eye, Hermione had drawn her arm back and swung at Malfoy, hitting him square under the chin. Malfoy wobbled before falling back flat on his arse. Marcus couldn't help but smile, seeing the punch that Hermione packed. He always knew that she had a strong arm. It was others who were unable to believe it.
When she launched herself on top of Malfoy, though, and pulled back to swing again, Marcus knew that he needed to get a hold of the situation before Hermione did something stupid to get herself expelled. He walked over to her and plucked her off the small blond boy.
She immediately began kicking, trying to get back to Draco to keep hitting him. She let out a feral scream when she wasn't able to wriggle free from Marcus's arms. Draco stood up and ran away, face bloodied.
When he figured that she had calmed down enough, Marcus set Hermione down, before turning her around to look at him. He put his hands on his shoulders to keep her in place. Looking at her face, he wiped away the angry tears that had sprung while she was fighting. "Why did you stop me?" She screamed at him.
Marcus kept calm. "I wanted to stop you from doing something you'd regret." He could tell that she was still spitting mad, but cut her off before she could retort. "No, I know you wouldn't regret hurting Malfoy, but if you got expelled, you would regret it."
He could see the fight leaving her, and before he knew it, she was relaxing in his embrace. Now she was just crying for real. "I just couldn't hear him laugh about Buckbeak like that." Marcus ran his hand over her wild hair.
"It will be okay, pipsqueak." He whispered. "Now, let me see your hand." He held her tiny hand in his, looking at her bruised knuckles. Luckily, none of the bones seemed to be broken, but she was a bit bloody. He was never good with healing charms, but he did his best to help her out.
Once she was calm enough, he let her go. "Come on, let's go to the pitch and do some flying. It always makes me feel better.
The end of the term had more surprises than Hermione thought was possible. Buckbeak had survived and Sirius Black had been captured and then escaped. Again. Hermione thought that the two might be related. She further thought it might have something to do with the time turner that Headmaster Dumbledore asked her to turn in the same day.
She didn't mind. If it meant that an innocent life was spared, she would let the Headmaster borrow it again. As it stood, she didn't think that she would be using it again the next year. She hated Divination, and she wasn't going to take it anymore. Plus, Trelawney hated her.
Further, her favorite teacher, Professor Lupin, turned out to be a werewolf! Not that Hermione had anything against werewolves, because they didn't exactly have choice in the matter, somewhat like muggleborns.
To top it all off, it was Marcus's last year at Hogwarts, and Hermione didn't know what her future at Hogwarts was going to be like. Would the girls keep treating her nicely? Would she make the Quidditch squad next year? Who would the captain even be?
She met Marcus in the common room before she was set to go back on the Hogwarts Express. "Merlin, pipsqueak, it's been a year." He told her, thinking off all the things that they'd been through together. He wondered how she would have fared if he wasn't looking out for her. He wondered if he would have passed a single NEWT if she hadn't helped him.
He worried about her, all alone at Hogwarts next year. "Promise me you'll look after yourself next year. I can't have you getting in trouble if I am not here to look out for you."
Hermione smiled, wrapping him in a hug, something that he became more and more used to with each embrace. It made him feel warm. "I promise, Marcus. And will you promise to write me? You didn't return a single one of my letters last summer." She was trying to guilt him.
"Of course I will." Marcus promised. Last summer, he'd been so lost after the death of his mother, he couldn't be bothered to do much of anything, let alone respond to Hermione's cheery letters.
"What will you do now that you are finished with school?" Hermione asked eagerly.
Marcus shrugged his broad shoulders. "I have trials with a few Quidditch clubs, so I guess hopefully make a squad." He couldn't let on how nervous he was about trying out. All he ever wanted to do was play Quidditch, and it would hurt if he wasn't good enough.
Hermione, brimming with confidence for him, didn't have any doubts. "I just know you'll make a team Marcus. I am sure you could even have your pick. Just do your best." With her seemingly endless optimism in his ability, Marcus didn't feel like he was that hopeless after all.