Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

I have this funny habit of not saving something until I'm done with it. Because of that, I've lost this twice. The first time I didn't care so much, I just had maybe 2-3 sentences. The second time? I had over 2,000 words. I guess I've finally learned my lesson. Sorry this update took so long to get to you! :)

.*.*.

"Good," He looked smug, grabbing his flute of orange juice with a pristine air, "I'm glad that you've decided after all." I greatly enjoyed the way that he made it sound like I had chosen him. And by greatly enjoyed, I mean not at all.

Because when it came down to it, I still wasn't sure.

"Oh no," He looked worried, "Is everything alright? It looks like I've lost you."

I had to give Flint credit. He wasn't nearly as oblivious as I sometimes pretended he was. It was hard to comprehend that someone like him was capable of intelligent thought. I mentally scolded myself—that assumption was rather harsh.

He had just asked me that I start thinking of our future—assuming that I've made a conscious decision of that road. I couldn't lie to him at this point.

So for the first time, in quite a long time I was honest with Marcus Flint.

"It's a little fast." I replied.

"What do you mean?"

"This." I gestured towards the two of us, sitting at that table, "I've been home for around a month. And in that time, I'm already tied to the person I'm going to pursue a life with? Not that I find you objectionable, just that when I pictured it all when I was younger, I saw a slow courting process before the word engagement was even mentioned."

"I believe that kind of set up is much to untraditional for the society that we exist within." He remarked with a laugh. Unfortunately, He was right. That was the only downfall to the life that I led. The society. The rights and passages kept from the stone age. Okay, so in actuality the Victorian age, but living it in the nineteen nineties; I hardly could tell a difference between the two.

"I know," I replied truthfully, "I really do know that. But I feel like I don't even get an option to learn how I feel. To grow with those feelings."

He shrugged, "My parents always told me that I'd have the rest of my life to fall in love with the woman I'd spend forever with."

I sighed, putting my head into my hands. I was sitting most unladylike, but I hardly even cared. It was like this—Hermione Granger could marry whomever she wanted. And from what I'd heard she'd probably end up spending her forever with that Weasley boy. I'm not saying that I wanted to marry a Weasley (stupid mudblood lovers) it's just not fair that she gets to chose with her heart—when I'm superior to her in every single way.

"I know that it's frustrating, Hayley. Believe me I do." Flint took a deep breath, "I've spent so much time forcing the future on you. When what I should have been doing is trying to woo you in the present.

"It escaped me that you haven't been around the last six—seven years to see how things have changed; To see how people have grown—the directions that their lives have taken. I forget that you haven't seen me evolve, and nor have I you. I'm sorry for rushing things. Let's start over. Let's spend the day together. And let's get to know each other."

I looked at him incredulously.

I prided myself on being able to read people well. To see deep into their soul and know exactly what they were capable of. I hadn't even bothered to consider what Flint was capable of.

It was amazing what you could learn from a person when you were honest with them.

"There you go, staring off into space again. It's funny how often you do that."

"Excuse me?" I replied, scrunching my brows together. I hardly felt this to be an accurate description of what I was like at all.

"The younger version of you that I knew so much better than I do this version used to stare off into space all the time. I remember all the times that I'd catch Draco and you at the base of the Malfoy's garden—right by the pond. And you'd just be sitting there. Not talking, barely even looking at each other. Staring completely off into space. It was like you were having a conversation with yourselves, but the whole world at the same time without even speaking."

I knew exactly what he was recalling—and I could see it all. I could see Draco, his cheeks reddened, his hair mused from a day of flying in the backyard. His cheeks were tinged with sunburn, and he lay casually spread out in the grass. I sat, with my legs tucked into my chest, and my head upon my knees just staring out at the sunset. My hair idly flicked around my face from the wind. I didn't say anything, and neither did Draco.

And suddenly, remembering what had occurred the last time I'd visited that magical spot, I abruptly needed to change the subject, "I just love the way that their garden looks. With all of the roses, and the ivy. And that beautiful pond."

"The Malfoy's do have an exquisite garden. And those peacocks? That's just outrageous."

I laughed, I had forgotten about the peacocks. After years of chasing them around the gardens, they'd gotten into the habit of staying as far from me as possible, "It is a little flamboyant, but those peacocks are Lucuis' babies. In some ways, he fancies them more than he does Draco." I teased.

That caused Flint to laugh, too. His laugh was loud, clear, and melodious. It was a glorious sound, and a part of me enjoyed the fact that I had been the causing factor of such enchanted laughter.

"I'm only just slightly teasing." I smiled as I responded.

"That was almost a smirk," He replied—of course with a smirk.

"It was not!" I was outraged that he would suggest such.

"It was too! Just wait until I tell Draco." He laughed.

"Draco shan't even care about hearing such." He looked at me strangely.

"What ever do you mean?"

"Draco and I are…Well," I thought of how best to phrase the situation without being completely honest and losing any trust I had from him. "Well let's just say that six and a half years of not seeing each other, or hearing from each other, kind of tore anything that we had resembling a friendship apart."

He looked surprised to hear this, "Is that so? And why is that?"

I shrugged. I honestly had no idea where to begin with Draco. And the last person that I expected to talk about it with was Flint. "I'm not sure. It's just hard to spend so much time apart from a person, and then be thrust suddenly back into their lives." I sighed thoughtfully, "We didn't keep in touch at all."

"You didn't stay in touch with anyone." He replied, "At least no one that I know of."

"I kept in touch with Pansy."

"Really? Why didn't she say something? She's not exactly known for keeping things quiet."

"I told her that if she did, I'd confess to the world all of her darkest secrets. And after a while, not telling anyone about my correspondence wasn't as big of a deal."

"You know, I don't even know why you left."

"If we're going to be honest, I don't know that anyone knows the story of why I left."

"Why?"

"With everything that was going on at home? MY sister ran away with a Weasley. Emma ran off with Charlie, like she had a future with him. Mum and Father were devastated. They decided to vacation on Isle Elladora for a few months; during which I was to stay in france with my Grandmummy. When time came for school to start, my parents were still vacationing. My grandmother decided that Hogwarts wasn't a good school. So I started willingly, at beauxbatons. After my first year there, france had become my home."

"What made you decide that you wanted to come back here?" He inquired.

"Truth be told—I didn't want to return to England. I never intended to or planned to come back here. My life is France. My life here had been deserted and broken. It's been maddening to try and fix all of the wrongs that I made in leaving."

"Are you talking about Draco again?"

"Not entirely," I answered honestly, "I feel like a stranger to everyone—even my parents. I feel so out of place here."

"That's hardly true. You're not a stranger to anyone. We know you. Even if we haven't seen you turn into the person that you are, we know who you are at the roots."

"That's strangely; quite kind of you." He laughed.

"So what's so different about the new Hayley that we don't know?" He teased me casually, "She still plays quidditch. She still feels the most peaceful sitting in a garden. She still nervously tugs on the ends of her hair." I immediately dropped my hands into my lap.

"I guess not nearly as much as I thought."

. * . * .

Marcus and I spent the entire afternoon together; sharing various stories that had passed during our lives that we had not bared witness to. By the evening, sitting on my back porch with Marcus I felt so more at ease about where my heart really was—or whom it even belonged to.

Marcus was charming, he was sweet, polite and caring. He was handsome and brave. He had a laugh that could make the heavens envious, and a smile to rival it.

I was slowly becoming content with the where I knew the future was taking us.

"I'm sorry about all the assumptions I made earlier. I didn't think about how hard this all must be for you." He started, as we were saying goodbye, "It was wrong of me. Instead, I'd like to redo this. When you're gone for the next two weeks—please don't forget about me; or about today, or any of the things that we've talked about. Don't forget about the place that we're beginning to fit more naturally into." He pulled a small satin box out of his pocket, "And if you need to. Use this as a reminder of the place that I want us to be at. Not tomorrow, not next week. But when you're ready for us to be there." And he opened the box, revealing an engagement ring. It was quite ornate, a large emerald shone in the middle—surrounded in scalloped diamonds. I could tell that the ring itself was ancient—probably a family heirloom.

"It's beautiful," I breathed, caressing the soft satin of the box. It was the perfect ring for a pureblood princess. The only problem that was when I imagined this day, I had pictured something new. Something that I would get a chance at turning into the ring of an extraordinary marriage. The ring of newer times. A clean, square cut diamond surrounded by smaller diamonds—all clear.

"It's a family heirloom. It was my great grandmother's ring."

"Thank you," I replied. I knew what was going to happen next. I didn't fight it, either.

And the strangest thing? Kissing Marcus Flint wasn't nearly as weird as I thought it was going to be.

. * . * .

I hurried inside, holding the box in my hands tightly, unsure of what to do with it. I knew that I did not want my mother to find it—she would insist that I wore it. Perhaps when I returned, but wearing it at the present seemed hardly appropriate.

I was tired enough to sleep, but I hadn't even read over the instructions for the trip that I was about to embark on. So reluctantly I sank into the chair at my desk, tearing into the manila envelope.

The first thing I read didn't please me.

I was to be ready for pick up at six thirty, promptly. Not a minute earlier, not a minute later.

I frowned. That was not good. I was notorious for being five minutes late. And that was so early.

I continued reading, to discover that we weren't so much as apparating to this wizarding village. No, we were flying—a stupid muggle aircraft creation. It was a metal cylinder, with strange things attached to the sides. I only knew that it was a way to kill muggles in mass numbers. The flight would take twenty hours to complete. We would arrive at our destination at five o'clock in the morning our time! (Or flight departed at Nine) It would be nine o'clock at night there.

I thought after hearing that I was going to be stuck on a stupid muggle contraption for twenty hours with only the company of Draco Malfoy, it couldn't get worse. I still had no idea where I stood with him.

The packet went on to describe our rooming situation. I assumed that we'd have a double. Only, that would look too suspicious. Because any young couple vacationing in another country would have a single room.

Meaning, I was expected to share a bed with Draco.

I was beginning to think Narcissa had been right. We could hardly be in the room with each other. We were either at each other's throats, or pretending that we were star cross'd lovers. Neither of us were going to survive this trip, that was for sure. Bellatrix had made a poor choice in pairing us up for this task.

I read the rest of the pamphlet with a foul mood. She stressed the importance of not blowing our cover. Mudblood lovers were growing aware of the threat the we posed to their silly views of how society might function. If they even suspected that we were working for who we are, then there's no way that we could be successful.

After skimming the last page, I crawled into bed. I was worried about how I'd get to sleep, so I automatically summoned a house elf requesting a wakeup call for the morning, and a cup of sleep tea.

The tea came to me tasting like regular sleeping potion mixed with tea, so I drank it without any hesitation. And it did exactly what it was supposed to. I fell to sleep almost instantly.

Though in hindsight, I would have preferred to not have dreams that I was running away to America to elope with Draco.