A/N: Thank you all so so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! The support has been so ridiculous and it means so much! I am so pleased that y'all have been enjoying this story. This chapter...ugh, I am so nervous to post it. I hope you like where I went with it, and it's believable and not too fluffy, but fluffy enough, with enough darkness, but not too much. I didn't focus too heavily on the battle, so I hope you don't mind that either. You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions. I would love to hear what you would like to see in the next (final) chapter! It's an epilogue of sorts - post war.
Please enjoy this SUPER long chapter seven and be on the lookout for chapter eight soon!
Hermione had been preparing for this for months. She knew that something like this was going to happen, but it didn't make it any easier. Didn't make her decision any easier. But then again, it wasn't as if it was really her decision.
Standing in her bedroom, she efficiently removed all traces of her existence from her room, neatly packing everything she could into her trunk. It hurt to see every memory that she had growing up in that home disappear. It hurt more to know that it wasn't as difficult as she thought it would be. She'd been growing apart from her parents and the muggle world for years.
It didn't stop the tears from rolling down her face when she knew what was coming next. She wiped them away, trying to give herself a pep talk. She had been preparing for months. She knew the spell. She could do it.
She thought of weekends, baking cookies with her mother in their kitchen - the one she always complained about being too small. She thought of weekends with her father, playing cricket. Her father's words of encouragement when she threw the ball.
But there was nothing for it. She didn't have a choice any more and it had to be done.
Looking back on it, it would seem easy, just a wave of her wand, and then all of her parents' memories of her were gone. They didn't know that they'd ever had a daughter, they didn't know they were the Grangers. Instead, they were Monica and Wendell Wilkens, about to fulfill their lifelong dream of moving to Australia.
Hermione couldn't go with them to Australia. She was a witch and she wasn't going to run away from the wizarding world. But, she couldn't stay in Britain either. Bane of her existence, Dolores Umbridge, had instituted something called the Muggleborn Registration Commission. Muggleborns weren't allowed to go to Hogwarts, and were to be brought to the Ministry for questioning.
Hermione wasn't stupid. They sent muggleborns to Azkaban for stealing magic, an idea so preposterous that Hermione couldn't imagine going in to be put through that. The ones who ran were hunted down like animals by people called Snatchers.
No, she needed to get out, and she knew where she was going to go. She would go to Bulgaria and stay with Viktor, until she could find other housing arrangements. But, the only problem was that she didn't know how to get to Bulgaria.
Thinking on Luna's words, to not give up on Marcus yet, she made her decision. She would go to Marcus's flat and ask for him to arrange a portkey. Sure, they had each caused the other more pain in the last year than they should have, but surely he owed her this much.
She'd passed her apparition exam, so it was easy enough for her to pop down from her neighborhood and over to Falmouth.
The summer had gone horribly for Marcus. The changes that came down from the Dark Lord controlled Ministry put everyone on edge, sending the Wizarding World spiraling into dark paranoia. To make matters worse, Quidditch had been cancelled, so he had nothing to channel his rage and frustration into.
The only bright spot was that his father had gotten himself thrown into Azkaban before the man he slavishly devoted himself to had risen to power. He was still rotting in there, and Marcus hoped that he would stay there as long as possible, forgotten.
He'd moved back to his ancestral home. There was no point in staying in Falmouth when there was no Quidditch. Not to mention that he didn't want his home to fall into disrepair. He found it was much more bearable to live in when his father wasn't there. Though, he could admit that he was lonely, spending his evenings drinking by himself.
It was a stormy night when the pounding on the door roused him from his spot on the couch in the parlor, huge fire crackling in the fireplace. His house elf was so elderly at this point that Marcus wouldn't make him get up to scare off their visitor.
The pounding still didn't stop. He fought the urge shout at his unexpected visitor, who broke his evening drinking half a bottle of firewhiskey.
He was surprised, when he finally opened the door, to see Hermione. She was soaking wet; obviously she'd been in the rain for a while now. "Pipsqueak?" He asked, incredulous, but letting her in none the less. "Come in, you must be cold."
Marcus didn't know how to act with Hermione, remembering all of the awful things he'd said the last time he'd seen her. But he knew that right now, he just wanted to keep her safe. The breathless way she said his name sent a jolt to his heart. He was so surprised to see him here of all places, at his home in Newcastle. "How you find me?"
"Pure-blood Directory." Hermione said succinctly, shivering in the entryway of Marcus's house. She couldn't help but look around. It was all dark stone, cold, nothing warm. "Can I...I need your help, Marcus." She said, looking so serious, even with bits of raindrops clinging to her long lashes. She was beautiful.
"Anything." He responded, before inviting her into the parlor. He couldn't imagine not doing everything in his power to help her, with whatever it was that she needed.
Hermione bit her lower lip. "I need to get out of Britain. Can you help me get a portkey to Bulgaria?" She said without preamble. She was sure that he would know what Wizarding Britain was like right now.
"Bulgaria?" Marcus asked her, confused, until he remembered just who was there.
Hermione nodded, her eyes sad. "Yes, Viktor will keep me safe there."
"Stay here." Marcus said, without thinking. He couldn't imagine Hermione being all the way across Europe, away from him. "With me."
Upset flashed across Hermione's face. "Marcus, you know that I can't. Muggleborns are being hunted and your father is a Death Eater." She wanted to shout at him, for always assuming that everything could be so easy.
"He's gone...in Azkaban. Come on, Hermione, I promise to keep you safe. No one will bother you here." He pleaded. He couldn't let Hermione leave, because he knew then that she might never come back.
Biting her lower lip, she thought over his words. He looked a bit helpless, standing there, no matter how large and imposing of a figure he posed. She couldn't deny in his eyes, though, that he had a fierce look of determination on his face. And then, that's when she knew that he would keep his word. That he meant everything that he said.
"I..." She stuttered, not knowing what to say. She knew she shouldn't put him in this position. If someone found out he was harboring her, he could be killed. But she didn't want to leave him. "Okay. I'll stay with you Marcus."
Waking up in Marcus's ancestral home was an experience that Hermione never thought she would experience. The night before was a bit of a blur, as she'd shared a rather full glass of firewhiskey before being ushered off to bed by a concerned Marcus. She'd taken a hot shower before crawling into the guest bed that had been prepared just across the hall from his bedroom.
She blushed. Sure, she'd missed Marcus, but she certainly wasn't expecting her feelings for him to come rushing back. He'd hurt her so badly the last time they'd spoken, but talking with him in front of the toasty fire was enough to make things seem like old times.
Dressing for the day, Hermione used a charm to braid her wild hair back out of her face, knowing that falling asleep with wet hair meant that it would unmanageable, before venturing out into the hallway. Timidly, she knocked on Marcus's door, knowing that she would never be able to find her way around this old house - a veritable castle really - on her own.
He was dressed so very muggle, Hermione thought with a grin, when his door opened. A plain white undershirt and grey sweatpants were all that were necessary for a Flint family breakfast. She shook her head, remembering that he had been living here all alone for a while now. He didn't have any reason to dress up.
Blushing, Marcus started leading the way to the dining room. "Come on, let's get breakfast." He said, his voice still gruff from sleep, sending delightful tingles up Hermione's spine. She wondered...no, it wouldn't do to starting thinking about Marcus that way.
The dining room table already had two plates waiting for them, with omelettes, sausage and toast. The pair of them ate in uncomfortable silence, neither one wanting to speak first. There was so much lingering tension, though, it was bound to snap.
Once plates were cleaned, Marcus stared at her from across the table, a determined look on his face. "Hermione, I'm...I'm so sorry for what I said to you in Hogsmeade. I was...jealous."
Hermione frowned, looking away. "It's fine, you were actually right. About Terence." She grimaced. "At least I figured it out before...any real damage could be done." Her cheeks flushed. She couldn't imagine how upset she would have been had she given her virginity to the blond seeker. Glancing up, she met his grey-blue eyes. "I'm sorry too. I was a bit jealous as well. And, well...I missed you."
She watched his demeanor change as the weight of this conversation left his shoulders. They both apologized and they both were forgiven. "I tried to write you so many times, but the words just never seemed right." He held her hand across the table, giving it a gentle squeeze.
She grinned back. "It was the same for me actually."
A beat of silence passed between them again, before Marcus stood from the table. "Come on. If you are going to be staying here, you have to learn where everything is. I'll give you a tour." Her hand in the crook of his arm, she let Marcus guide her from room to room, making a mental map of where everything was.
She practically squealed when she learned he'd saved the best for last. "And this here, is the library…"
Marcus and Hermione spent only one day together before the Ministry came. Really, they should have known that they couldn't just live in a fairytale world with one another while the war raged on outside.
He ushered Hermione up into one of the rooms in the library, before asking her to put up whatever wards she could think of, while his aged house elf answered the door for the Ministry officials.
She could still hear them talking as they moved through the house. "Have you seen a Miss Hermione Granger? She was spotted apparating near Newcastle, and we know that you and the Undesirable had a relationship."
Though she scoffed at the idea of being called an Undesirable, she still strained to hear Marcus's response. "She was? Sorry, I haven't seen her for sometime. We had a bit of a falling out as to what our relationship even was. I only ever saw her as a Quidditch player, but she wanted a bit more."
Hermione felt her heart skip a beat at his words. Was that how he really felt?
"You mustn't worry, darling." A voice said from the corner of the room.
Hermione gasped. "Who's there?" She asked, wandering over to the part of the room that the voice came from. She was surprised to come face to face with an enchanted painting of a woman with long black hair, the same color as Marcus's. Though, that was where the similarities ended. "Are you?"
"Yes, I am Marcus's mother, Georgina." She said with a grin, seeing the wheels turning in the young woman's head. "Your emotions are plain to read on your face. How did you ever survive in Slytherin?"
Hermione blushed. "I wasn't expecting to see anyone. And to answer your question...I suppose I got quite good at charming my bed curtains shut." She remembered all those lonely nights where she put up silencing charms to keep her tears a secret from her roommates.
"Well, as I was saying, you mustn't worry about Marcus's words." She said, with a smirk on her face. "He's lying to protect you. I've known for many years that Marcus's wants you as much more than a Quidditch partner."
The brunette was fascinated by the portrait. "And you don't mind that I'm...muggleborn?" She asked. It was the first time she'd met either of Marcus's parents and she knew that his father would be quite distressed to learn that his only son and heir had any feelings for a mudblood.
The beautiful woman shook her head in the painting. "Of course not. I just want my Marcus to be happy. Whenever he talks about you his whole face changes. Even when you were just a second year, and he told me about his little pipsqueak of a friend, I knew you were special." There was a brief pause while the woman studied Hermione's visage. "To learn that you feel the same calms me. I know that you will look after him as well."
It was a bit off putting to have a painting so succinctly define a tumultuous relationship that she couldn't even begin to describe. It was comforting, though, to know that Hermione could give Georgina a bit of comfort. "Yes, I will." She promised, feeling better than she had in months. It gave her hope that maybe things would work out after all.
Things had actually settled into a calm order in the first few weeks that Hermione was hidden away at Marcus's home, after the Ministry had finished their inspection, convinced Marcus had no idea the whereabouts of mudblood Granger. They would eat all their meals together, and then they would fly around the grounds with one another.
The rides were usually fast, a good way to work off excess energy, as Voldemort's presence seemed to have sent the country into perpetual rain and storms. There were rare days, though, that the weather was warm and sunny, and they would take their time, Marcus showing Hermione the vastness of the grounds, and his favorite spots from when he was a child.
After lunch, Hermione would spend her time in the library, working through Marcus's seventh year curriculum. Just because she wasn't allowed back at Hogwarts didn't mean that she was going to stop learning. Occasionally she would brew in the potions laboratory that some Flint ancestor had installed, and Marcus would sit with her, in awe of how she worked so efficiently.
After dinner, they would retire to the parlor and chat, about everything and nothing. Hermione had never told Marcus about her discussion with his mother's portrait, as she wasn't sure where they stood just yet. Sure, they had apologized to one another, and things were forgiven, but it was still unclear just what their relationship was.
Were they friends? Were they more? Hermione certainly hadn't forgotten what his lips had felt like on hers in that muggle pub. Her mind was only too happy to provide what might have happened if he hadn't looked so shocked when he pulled away. Would he had brought her back to his flat? She imagined his large hands gripping her hips tight enough to leave bruises while he held her to his muscled form.
It was hard knowing that he was just across the hall from her at night, and she often wondered if he slept naked. The curiosity was nearly enough for him to disturb him in the middle of the night to find out. Nearly.
She wondered if he had any similar curiosities about her. Though, he was likely to be disappointed to learn that she slept in practical nightgowns, she thought with a smirk. Still, it didn't stop her from initiating as much physical contact with him as possible, in hopes that one day he would make a move.
When they spent nights in the parlor, they began by sitting on opposite sides of the big couch in front of the fire, each too aware of the fragile state of their friendship to push for more. But, Hermione had slowly been moving closer to him, until she was sitting practically on top of him, their thighs pressed together.
That night, she watched his grey-blue eyes flash in excitement as he told her that he'd been contacting for trials with the England national squad. Entranced her eyes dropped to his lips and she realized that he stopped speaking.
And then she realized that she was leaning closer, closer, until their lips were just a hairsbreadth apart. She waited, her eyes slipping closed, not wanting to see his reaction, but praying for it all the same.
Just as she was about to pull back and apologize to him for her forwardness, Marcus closed the gap, meeting her in a fierce kiss. They fit together as though they were fashioned for one another, and she couldn't stop the moan that escaped when he sucked her lower lip into his mouth, tongue pressing against the seam of her lips. She willingly opened her mouth to him, tongue reaching out tentatively to glide along his.
Hearing his answering groan made something twist in her belly and she realized she wanted, needed more with him. Using her hands, she pressed his shoulders back, until he was leaning against the arm of the couch and she was pressed fully against him, eager to learn just what Marcus liked.
Hermione was unsure of how long they remained like that, but when they finally separated, blushing, the fire had burnt down to embers. Giving him a shy glance from beneath sooty lashes, she smiled. "I've been wanting to do that for a while now."
A broad grin spread across his face, and Hermione felt relief rush through her body to know that she hadn't just destroyed their friendship. "Why did you wait, then?" He teased, before standing up, trying to discretely adjust the erection she'd felt pressing against her hip as they kissed. "Come on pipsqueak. Time for you to get some rest."
When he dropped her off at her own door, Hermione was a little disappointed, but grateful for him setting the pace. It would be wrong to go too fast too soon, especially after everything that had happened the year before. "Goodnight, Marcus." She pressed one last lingering kiss against his lips, before retiring to her own bed for the evening.
The shift in their relationship was palpable. Marcus couldn't believe how bold his little pipsqueak had been, kissing him in the parlor. He'd been longing to do it, do it again, since he'd kissed her at New Years. Seeing her with Higgs had filled him with a jealous rage that he hadn't been expecting and it had made him realize that what he felt for Hermione was perhaps a bit deeper than just friendship.
To know that she'd chosen him to come to him when she need help - that she trusted him with her safety - had given him hope that maybe there was still a chance. But then, things had seemed to stagnate, firmly in the friendship zone. He wasn't willing to push them outside it, unwilling to have her insist on going to Bulgaria if his romantic aspirations weren't appreciated.
But then, she'd offered her sweet lips to him that night…
Now, Marcus didn't feel like he needed to hide his longing looks, heated stares and casual touches. He didn't want to push her, but he was also very eager to see where they could go, now that they had a real chance. He was sometimes worried with his limited sexual experience - he'd been with three witches before - he might not be able to keep Hermione interested. Really, she should be with someone like Adrian Pucey, who all the Slytherin witches batted their eyes at, and had the reputation to match.
To his immense surprise, though, she seemed more than content to explore with him, allow him to learn what she liked and reciprocate in kind. Their routine hadn't changed but it sometimes could be sidetracked by heated kisses.
His favorite part of every day was their evenings in the parlor. They would still talk, but things always quickly devolved into passionate embraces, Hermione perched on his lap, legs on either side of his trim waist, their centers pressed tightly together, so that with each rock and thrust, they both could feel the friction caused.
She was a veritable playground, Marcus thought, and he could never decide where to keep his hands for long: on her small waist, cupping her arse and holding her tightly against him, buried in her wild hair, or shoved up beneath her shirt, thumbs playing with taut nipples.
Marcus's lips were pressed tightly against her collarbone, eager to leave a mark to show the world that she was his girl, while Hermione's hands fisted in his hair, holding his mouth to her. He'd just begun to lift her shirt, eager to really see her for the first time, when the floo sounded, and a witch came tumbling out. "Marcus - oh!"
Hermione scrambled off of him, pulling her shirt down and cheeks red, before daring to meet her former roommate's eyes. Marcus quickly grabbed a pillow and covered his lap. He didn't exactly want his cousin to see his hard cock through his jeans. "Millie. What an unexpected visit." He said, politely, though the rough sound of his voice made it known that it wasn't welcome at all.
Millie just stood there looking confused. "Hermione? What are you doing here?" She asked.
Marcus felt his heart sink, hoping that Millie wouldn't tell her father that he was harboring a muggleborn who was on the lam from the ministry. "She is staying with me for a while." Marcus said, gruffly. He gave a pointed glare to his little cousin. "We would appreciate it if you kept that fact to yourself."
His cousin's eyes widened comically, as she realized the consequences of her discovery. "Of course, Marcus...I wouldn't...not to Hermione." She gave Hermione an uncharacteristically kind smile, and he wondered if they had become friends in their years at Hogwarts.
He believed her to be sincere. "Thanks. What are you doing here?" He asked, wanting his cousin to leave so that he had Hermione couldn't continue their evening together, alone. Though, judging by how embarrassed she looked to have been caught, he didn't think they would be starting where they left off.
"Mother wanted me to invite you for dinner this weekend, with you being all alone here. You should make an appearance so she knows you are looking after yourself." Millie said, absentmindedly, before giving the pair a smirk. "Just how long has this been going on?"
Hermione's voice piped up from beside him. "A few weeks." She bit her lip, and Marcus had to focus on not groaning in pleasure.
Millie shook her head, grin on her face. "Well, I'm glad you finally pulled your head from your arse, Marcus. Have a goodnight you two." Picking up some floo powder, his cousin returned to her home.
It felt better knowing that someone else knew about their relationship. It made it seem more real than before when they were just existing in the microcosm of Marcus's ancestral home. He'd gone to dinner with the Bulstrodes - his aunt was his father's sister - and nothing was out of the ordinary, leading Marcus to believe that Millie had kept her mouth shut.
Though, before he left their house that evening his cousin had cornered him and grilled him on his intentions towards "their mutual friend." Once she'd been convinced that his actions towards Hermione were genuine, she backed off, and seemed really pleased for the pair.
It lead to a discussion with Hermione about just how she became so close with Millie when he got home. He'd been pleased to find Hermione waiting for him in his bed, wearing one of his undershirts and a pair of knickers. Laying next to her, the light from his bedside table just illuminated the faint pinkness of her nipples.
His little pipsqueak revealed to him how jealous she'd been, seeing him with Gemma Fairchild in the Prophet. It was nice to think that she reacted just as strongly as he did to her with Higgs. "I didn't...Gemma and I didn't...it was just a date. One date." He told her seriously, though embarrassed with his inability to tell her that he hadn't slept with another witch.
Hermione sucked in a deep breath at those words. "But...there have been others?" She said, not wanting to meet his eyes.
Marcus grabbed her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. It was important that they talked about it. "Yes, three. Two at Hogwarts and one while I was on a summer vacation, but...by the time that you came to school…"
Hermione bit her lower lip. "I've never…" Her cheeks were bright red, and he could tell that she wanted to look away from him. "I've never had sex. Never gotten very far at all. I mean, I have...touched a boy before, but no one's...ever touched me, you know, down there." She closed her eyes tightly. "And only ever with Viktor and Terence."
Marcus hissed. "I don't really need the details, Hermione."
Her eyes snapped back open. "You don't mind that...I'm not more experienced?" She asked tentatively.
Marcus resisted the urge to roll his eyes at her. "Of course not. It's kind of nice to know that I'm the only one who will have touched you." Seeing her eyes widen, he tried to backtrack. "But you know...we can go at your pace."
Sitting up in the bed, Hermione grasped the bottom of her shirt before pulling it over her head, revealing her breasts to him. Marcus couldn't stop the groan that came out of his mouth, seeing her topless, with nothing but green knickers on. Her breasts were more perfect than he'd imagined - small and perky, tipped with dark pink nipples.
He loved the way they looked in his large hands, kneading them, while Hermione mewled so sweetly. He kissed her fiercely, honored that she would share this part of her with him, until he was throbbing in his boxers.
A tentative hand reached inside the fabric, jumping when she found the hard organ waiting for her. Not breaking the kiss, Marcus reached one hand down to wrap her hand around his cock, pumping up and down until she learned the rhythm that he liked. It felt so different from his own hand, he couldn't stop his hips from thrusting into her soft hand. He could stay like this forever, he thought.
But, not wanting to waste the opportunity he was given, Marcus let his hand trail down her flat stomach, until he was toying with the band of her Slytherin green knickers. Pausing to give her a chance to protest, he delved underneath the fabric when she didn't stop him.
He couldn't stop the groan from leaving his mouth when he felt just how wet her folds were. He couldn't believe that someone was beautiful as Hermione would want him - troll blood Marcus Flint - this much. His forefinger found her slit and entered her slowly, careful not to be too aggressive. Again, he was unable to contain his groan, when he felt how tight she was around his finger.
Her answering moans of pleasure were enough for him to begin pumping his finger in an out of her, delighting in the feel of her clenching around him. His thumb sought out the bud at the top of her sex, tentatively circling around it. Hermione broke away from his kiss, her face pressed into his neck, hot breath tickling his ear. "Oh Marcus..."
Another finger joined his first in her sodden center, and he swelled with pride at the knowledge that he was causing her to come undone. Her movements around his cock were getting sloppier, but he didn't care. He was so close, just imagining what it would feel like to be inside her.
Hermione tensed, and he worried that he might have hurt her, until she bit down on his shoulder to contain a cry, her walls fluttering around him in orgasm. The sensation was heady even for him, and in a few more pumps of his hips, he too was coming, sticky spurts landing on her hand and his belly.
They lay still, breathing softly for a few moments, until he could move himself enough to kiss her forehead. "Thank you for letting me be the first one to touch you." He said sincerely. She gave him a shy smile, full of emotion.
Pulling her head to rest on his shoulder, Marcus wrapped his arm around her, loving how she felt pressed against him. Hermione slid her arm over his finely muscled stomach, fingers teasing with the bit of chest hair he had. He smiled, feeling content. "I wish I could have you in my bed every night." He admitted.
He felt Hermione smiled against him. "Maybe you will get your wish." She whispered back.
Sharing the ancestral home of the Flint family with just Marcus was a fantasy that Hermione was only too happy to stay in. She knew it was wrong, but when they were alone, she could almost imagine that the Wizarding World wasn't in turmoil, You-Know-Who wasn't trying to eradicate her kind. But, she should have known that such a delicate fantasy couldn't exist undisturbed.
In hindsight, it was good that they'd had advanced warning that Marcus's father was finally being released from Azkaban. Marcus would have to go and collect him after all. It gave them a chance to argue over whether Hermione would continue to stay with him. Hermione thought it was too dangerous, but Marcus assured her that his father would never realize that she was there. He never strayed into Marcus's part of the house and he would keep her safe. He couldn't fathom letting go of her now that so much had changed between them. Now that he loved her.
It also gave them time to clear out any evidence of her existence. Luckily, she'd been sharing Marcus's room every night already so it was easy to return the guest room to its original state. His ancient house elf agreed to bring her food and keep her existence a secret - an order Marcus gave on pain of death, though he would never tell Hermione. The house elf liked Hermione enough that he agreed without any grumbling.
Hermione could spend her days in the secret room in the library, Marcus told her, and he would join her when he could. His father wouldn't dare to enter the room, he promised, because of the epic rows he still could be pulled into with his late wife. Hermione admitted that she wouldn't mind spending time with Georgina's portrait, either.
But then the day finally came, and Marcus dutifully went to retrieve his father. He was surprised by how frail the once imposing man seemed. His father could no longer meet his eye, hunched as he was, and when he breathed, it sounded like a death rattle. His father was still a proud man, though and would never admit that his health was failing.
As soon as he entered the hallowed grounds of his family's home, Marcus's father didn't stop from calling the house elf. "Elf! Has my son had any visitors while I was away?" He demanded. Marcus barely contained a snort at the idea that he'd been "away" and not in prison.
He watched as the ailing elf furrowed his brow and ran unnaturally long fingers over his chin, as though he were trying to remember back through all of the months. Then it's face lit up. "Yes, master. A Miss Millicent Bulstrode did stop by."
His father turned to look at him, a hint of a smile decorating his face. Marcus prayed he didn't notice the palpable relief he felt that his secret wasn't discovered. Yet. "Excellent. Well, Marcus, we really must talk about your duty to this family. After all, Quidditch has been cancelled. You will need to find something to occupy your time. Surely someone has reached out to you while I was away. Malfoy perhaps?"
Marcus sneered, but shared the gossip he'd gleaned from dinner with the Bulstrodes. "Malfoy has fallen out of favor. And I am perfectly capable of finding ways to occupy my time on my own." He turned, then, to go out for a ride, leaving his father standing in the entryway, gaping.
With Hermione wrapped up in his arms, Marcus didn't want to get up out of the bed. She looked so sweet while she was sleepy, no hint of the fiery witch she was in her relaxed features. She had a few freckles on her nose and cheeks, from the limited sun that they'd gotten that summer. Her nose fit her face perfectly and he loved to stare into her big brown doe eyes. But her lips...Merlin her lips were enticing, pink and plump. Her lower lip was slightly larger than her upper one, giving her a perpetual pout. And now that he knew just how wonderful they felt wrapped around his cock.
He lifted a thumb to trace along her bottom lip, only to laugh when her nose scrunched up in annoyance. "Stop it Marcus, that tickles." She whined, still sleepy and unwilling to get up.
"Come on pipsqueak. Father has visitors today, so we must be on our best behavior." He said, kissing her temple and pulling back the covers. "It would be wise to stay in the study room until I come to get you in the evening."
Hermione nodded and quickly changed, before allowing Marcus to apparate her over. He left her with a lingering kiss on the lips. He then apparated downstairs to the parlor to meet his father. The Malfoys - Lucius and Draco - arrived for their scheduled tea looking like a pair of kicked dogs. Lucius looked like he'd given up on shaving all together and Draco had dark rings around his eyes.
Why Marcus's father thought he would willingly sign up for that was beyond him.
They sat talking about the state of the wizarding world for nearly an hour, until the tea went cold, and Marcus was antsy with excess energy. He wanted to go for a fly, but couldn't think of a good enough reason to excuse himself. But then, Lucius got down to the real reason that they were there. "The Dark Lord is looking for any extra aconite that families might be willing to part with. We've come to inspect your stores ourselves." He had a tight smile on his face, but stood from the couch. "If you'd lead the way."
Marcus's father was falling over himself to let Lucius know that the Dark Lord could have anything that he wanted from the Flint stores, and he was still blustering when they opened the doors.
And that's when Marcus realized their mistake. There were half a dozen potions brewing, left in statis, that Hermione had been unable to complete. "Brewing again, Marcus?" Draco asked confused.
Marcus's father just took one look at the room, before his face flushed red and he rounded on his son, finger pointed in his face. "You! You tricked me! I thought that you'd gotten rid of that mudblood. But, she's been here this whole time. Malfoy, my son has been harboring a fugitive. Help me find her."
Lucius smiled, a hollow look on his face, before leading his son in one direction, trying to find Hermione. Marcus's father led him in the direction of Marcus's bedroom, dragging his son all the way. "Let's just see. Is that little whore hiding in your bed?" He demanded.
The door blasted open and Marcus tried to keep his face impassive while his father tore through his room. He was grateful that all of Hermione's things were tucked away in a Slytherin Quidditch bag - an undetectable extension charm hiding its secrets - so it didn't appear out of place. He relaxed when his father let out a roar of rage. "She isn't here. She's never been here." He said calmly, hoping to convince the man.
Meanwhile, Lucius and Draco were walking through the halls, clearing room after room, but Draco wasn't nervous until he got to the library. If Granger was hiding here, this is likely where she would be. "You check the first level. I'll check the mezzanine." He whispered to his father, before walking up the stairs.
There were a series of rooms on this level and he opened one after the other. He opened the final door, but a telltale shimmering caught his eye. "Finite." He whispered, cancelling Hermione's disillusionment charm.
She was standing there, cowering in the back corner of the room, tears in her eyes and obviously scared out of her mind. She pleaded with him silently, mouthing the word "please." She looked so pitiful, Draco felt his heart clench in misery.
"Anything up there?" His father called from the first level.
Draco swallowed thickly, knowing that he had to make a decision. "No father, we are all clear up here." He nodded at Hermione, before closing the door behind him, wishing that she would stay safe for just a while longer.
When Marcus retrieved her from the room that night, it was already well into the evening. He apparated them back to his room, before pressing a desperate kiss against her lips. She pulled away, staring at his face, which currently sported an impressive black eye. "He hit you?" She asked, upset that anyone would try to hurt...the man that she loved.
Marcus nodded. "He was very pissed that we couldn't find you. Lucius had to convince him that there was no one here. He still didn't believe me though." Really, Marcus was impressed that his father still had the strength to do any damage at all. "How did you keep hidden anyway?"
Hermione frowned. "I didn't...Draco he discovered me, but he...he told his father that I wasn't in the study room." She didn't know why Draco had decided to keep her hidden, but she was grateful to him. She hoped that she would get the chance to thank him properly one day. Tears had welled up in her eyes, and one finally slipped free.
Marcus used the pad of his thumb to wipe away the moisture, before wrapping her in a tight hug. "Oh, pipsqueak, don't cry." He hated seeing Hermione cry.
She laughed into his chest. "I just don't like that you were hurt because of me. You are putting yourself at such risk and I just…" she took a deep, shuddering breath before continuing. "I love you so much, Marcus."
He pulled away so that he could look at her eyes, in awe of her statement. He looked for any doubts she might have, but he saw nothing but love and affection shining back from them. "Hermione." He groaned, wrapping her tiny body in his arms again. "I love you too."
Marcus watched as her face lit up when he returned the sentiment, feeling as though his heart just might beat right out of his chest. He didn't think it was possible to feel this much for another person, but he did. He put Hermione's happiness before his own, but he was so fucking glad that he was what made her happy.
She launched herself at him in a frenzy of kisses, pushing on his shoulders until he was falling back on the bed and she was perching herself on top of him. Grabbing her wand from the back pocket of her jeans, she cast a silencing charm on the room, and a contraceptive charm on herself, before setting it on the bedside table. He groaned, his cock pressing against his zipper, straining to get free.
They had been intimate before, but had never crossed that final line. Marcus knew that she was a virgin and didn't want to push her into something she didn't want, but it didn't stop him from dreaming about it. But now...now, he knew that they were finally going to go all the way, as neither one of them could fathom being separated again.
He helped Hermione undo the buttons holding his shirt together, before pulling his arms free so that his muscled chest was bared to her. Then, he helped her pull her tshirt up over her head and unclasp the bra keeping her perfect breasts from his view. She looked like a nymph on top of him, the most beautiful girl in the world. He wanted to tell her as much, but he was cut off by her lips.
She moaned while his scratchy chest hair tickled her nipples, hard little points against his body. His hands held her hips, grinding her against him. It felt so amazing and he was so hard for her, he needed to get a hold of the situation before he embarrassed himself by coming in his trousers.
He flipped her over onto her back, an arousing little gasp leaving her mouth. She would never admit it, but he knew Hermione enjoyed the little acts he did to show off his superior strength. He watched as she bit her lower lip, watching the muscles in his arms shift while he worked to pull off her jeans, taking her knickers with them.
Marcus wet his lower lip, looking at her, spread before him like a feast. He used one hand to hold down her eager hips, while the other palmed his cock through his pants. Unwilling to resist her any longer, he settled his broad shoulders between her thighs, his tongue pressing against the little red bead at the top of her sex.
Hermione squealed, her hands buried in his short hair, awash in the sensation of his lips wrapped around her, sucking on her clit. No matter how many times he did this, Marcus didn't think he would ever tire of the feel of her coming apart beneath him. The muscles of her thighs would shake in desire, until she would go rigid. Then came the fluttering pull of her walls around his tongue or fingers. She came with a wail of his name.
He licked the sweetness from her lips, letting her come down from the orgasm at her pace. Hermione tapped on his shoulders, pulling him up, until he waited on his knees. "Please Marcus. I want...I want you to take me." She whispered so sweetly.
This time he didn't try to contain his groan when her deft fingers undid the fastening of his pants, pulling them down over trim hips, his impressive erection bouncing free between them. He watched as she wrapped her hand around him, pumping up and down, making him groan. Leaning over, he covered her body with his, pressing his lips against hers, letting their tongues meet in a lazy caress.
He pulled back, pushing her hair from her eyes. "Are you positive, Hermione?" Merlin, Marcus wanted her more than he'd ever wanted anything, but he wanted to be sure. There was no going back after this.
She smiled at him, nodding, and biting her lower lip. He lined his cock up with her wet slit, before pushing forward slowly, only to be engulfed in heat. She felt like heaven, once he was fully seated inside her, he took a moment for her to adjust to him, at the same time trying calm himself down.
After several moments, she gave his shoulders a little squeeze and moved her hips against his. Pulling back out, he surged forward again. Hermione moaned, before giving him a shy little smile. It felt better than either one of them could ever imagine. Setting a gentle pace at first, Marcus reveled in the feel of her hands holding onto his back, blunt nails digging into his skin.
Eyes clenched in concentration, Marcus slipped one hand between them to circle the button at the top of her sex, wanting, needing her to come apart around him. Hermione, instinctively, wrapped her legs around him, eager to get him deeper into her. He thrust harder, delighting at each moan he could pull from her lips. Then, she was snapping around him, her cunt pulsing rhythmically, and pulling him over the edge as well.
He couldn't stop the groan of her name as he came, his face buried in her wild hair, lips pressed to her neck, while his hips pumped through the orgasm.
When his heart rate and breathing had finally returned to normal, he propped himself up, kissing her lips. "I love you, Hermione." He told her again, so happy to have this even if they were in hiding. He just hoped that someday soon he wouldn't have to keep Hermione hidden away.
He rolled over, pulled her to his chest. "I love you, too, Marcus."
His father sneered at him when Marcus declined to join him in fighting to bring down Hogwarts and the rebels when what could only be described as the Final Battle was beginning. "Just know, Marcus, the Dark Lord will notice your absence. And I am done defending your inexplicable disloyalty." He left the breakfast table to join the fighting, talking about taking a second wife to procure a new heir.
When he left though, he did rush to Hermione to let her know that it was all coming down now. "We should go." Hermione said insistently. "I know a tunnel from Hogsmeade to get into the castle. We should fight."
Marcus paced back and forth in front of his bed, hands over his face. He wanted nothing more than to continue to hole up here with Hermione. "I just want you to be safe. I just want to keep you safe Hermione." He whined, hating the idea that she might get hurt or killed.
She had tears in her eye. "I need to do this, Marcus. I'm a muggleborn, if I don't fight now, then I will never have the life I deserve." Wrapping her arms around his waist, resting her head on his chest. "Don't you want a life outside of this room?"
He kept his eyes closed, knowing that he was already going to go with her. That he was already going to agree to fight with her. For her. "Okay, let's go."
Once they apparated into Hogsmeade, they found the village empty. Honeyduke's was easy to break into and Hermione led him through the cellar and through a tunnel, until they came out behind the statue of the One-Eyed Witch. "How did you find this?" He asked, amazed.
"Potter has a map." Hermione said absentmindedly, not really explaining, but was quickly distracted by the rush of students moving through the halls. Hermione tried to figure out what was happening, where they could go and how they could help, when they bumped into Luna Lovegood.
The fey girl squeezed Hermione's hand. "Hermione! I am glad you are looking well." She said with a smile before her face turned serious. "Come on, we are trying to find the lost Diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw." Marcus wasn't sure how, but he was following the pair of girls through the hall, headed to the Ravenclaw dormitories.
"Why do you need it?" Hermione asked confused.
"I don't know, but Harry told me to look for it. Ron and Neville went into the Chamber of Secrets." Luna said, a bit breathless. They searched the blue common room, using all manner of revealing spells and summoning charms, only to come up empty handed. The three of them left, disappointed, only to run into Harry Potter.
"Luna, it's in the Room of Requirement." He said in a rush, before noticing the two people standing with her. He looked concerned for just a moment, before he shook his head, knowing that they were going to help. Still, Flint, looked so large and awkward next to the two smaller girls. He took an unconscious step closer to Granger. "Can you find it? You will have to destroy it, somehow. Regular spells won't work. I have to go find the snake!"
Luna and Hermione nodded, before racing off to the Room of Requirement, Marcus in tow. He was amazed by the room that was revealed to him, not having known what to expect. It was so full of junk.
They barely got halfway down one of the long walkways in the room, when they were met by Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle. Hermione, perhaps feeling some kind of new found camaraderie with Malfoy, greeted him. "Malfoy, we are looking for a diadem, a blue kind of tiara." She described.
"What the fuck, mudblood? Do you really think you can demand things from us?" Crabbe asked, puffing his chest out, sneering at Hermione.
Goyle just leered at her. "Though I can see why you'd want to dip your wick, Flint."
Marcus was sick of people talking down to Hermione and initiated a duel. Malfoy stood by feeling helpless. He no longer had control over his two lackeys. But he did know what where the diadem that they were looking for was. They'd seen it once before. He stared at Hermione wanting to tell her, only to be shocked back into action when he heard Crabbe casting a fiendfyre.
What an idiot.
The five of them got out, flying on brooms that Draco passed them, before picking Luna Lovegood up and flying them through the flames, chasing them, like sinister black ink, a specter of Voldemort. When the slid to safety, the doors just barely closing behind them, Marcus laid on the ground, holding Hermione to him, unbelieving that they'd survived that.
Hermione sat up. "Malfoy, would that have destroyed the diadem?" She said biting her lip. She told Potter they would get rid of it, and she wanted to keep her promise.
Malfoy realizing that Crabbe hadn't made it out, nodded. "Absolutely. Fiendfyre destroys everything."
Marcus couldn't believe that it was over. That it was really truly over. The Dark Lord was dead and Harry Potter had survived. Well, Potter had died, but then he'd come back to life and the fighting resumed. Longbottom had killed that giant, creepy snake.
Marcus and Hermione had both come through numerous duels successful. He'd seen his father fall to Professor Lupin. He knew that he should feel something for the man, but really, he was just too tired to care right now. Marcus had killed two men himself, and he'd seen Hermione kill at least one. He hoped that it didn't tear her up inside - he would have killed her if she hadn't.
He'd saved people too. Marcus, had protected Lupin's back when Dolohov had snuck up from behind him. Hermione had saved one of the Weasley twins as well, sending a bubble charm to protect him from being crushed by a wall.
All around them there were tears, hugs, celebration. Surging forward, he wrapped her up in a tight hug, refusing to let her go. A hand on either side of her face, he tilted her head up so that he could kiss her, pouring all of the emotion he could into her. He was so happy, his mind was spinning with promises of the future, a future with Hermione.
He didn't know what she wanted, but he was willing to give her whatever she wanted. Breaking away, he smiled down at her. "Ready to go home?" He asked her, hoping that she would continue to think of his home as hers.