Hello, darlings. What a week. Our main vehicle needs $10,000 worth of repairs. (There goes the emergency fund. Yes, I know this qualifies, but still.) My sister-in-law had a double bypass heart surgery. She is recovering nicely. And I started my second job today. It is part time to help offset my sons going to trade school. So, I forgot to post the chapter last night, and just got home. So, sorry but enjoy
Chapter 9 Christmas
Christmas morning Ron and Veronica helped Hugo open presents before they headed to the Burrow for the family gathering. He watched Victorie explain the Christmas tree to Hugo as he attempted to remove his shoes and socks. The eight-month-old had recently taken to chewing on his toes and did not always know when to stop. Seeing his son focused on his feet, he glanced and Fleur who nodded to agree to watch the children. He went into the kitchen where his mother bustled about cooking, his wife assisting her while Ginny moped at the table. "Smells great!" he praised. He looked over the dishes spread across the table. "What? No Christmas pudding, you know the cootie one?"
Molly pursed her lips, "Clootie dumpling, Hermione brought that. I never got around to getting the recipe from her." The implication that Hermione would always be around for that to happen remained unsaid. "And that tatties and neeps before you ask. Her mother's people are Scottish." The last was to Veronica as an explanation.
"Say, there's an idea. You can ask Hermione to ask you to cook those dishes. You could bond over cooking lessons," Ron suggested to Veronica.
"That's a good idea," Veronica lied with a smile. She hated cooking. She had no desire to learn to do more of it, especially from
Hermione. She wanted her to go further away not stay closer.
A bark of laughter startled them, the twins entered the kitchen. "I somehow doubt she wants to spend any more time than she has to with the woman who stole her fiance, why would she teach her to cook for the git who cheated on her?"
Fred chuckled at their faces, "You're both idiots. That poor baby." They left the room.
"They're the idiots," grumbled Ron. "Hermione doesn't hold grudges."
George laughed as he snatched a handful of nuts from the table. "Are you sure about that? Skeeter, Edgecombe, and Umbridge might disagree." He laughed as he went to join his twin.
"Ignore him," instructed Molly. "Once all the shininess wears off her little jaunt things will settle back down like they were. Let's go see the Christmas boy." Ron followed his wife and mother back into the living room. He couldn't shake the feeling that things would never be the same.
The little household gathered around the table to eat the meal Tove prepared. Then exchanged gifts. Hermione gave Marcus and Harry their jumpers. She gave Malin the Viking ships and other gifts bought for Hugo. "I know they're touristy, but I wanted you to have something."
"I appreciate the gesture," assured Malin.
Hermione then presented Tove with her scarf. "It is beautiful and I will treasure it as a reminder of your kindness." They exchanged a hug.
Harry gave Hermione a soft jumper, "I didn't make it, but I doubt either of us is getting one from Molly this year."
"That feels like a safe bet."
Marcus gave her a necklace with the rune for eternal love and the softest leather gloves she had ever possessed. "Got those in Tronso before we, uh, yeah."
"Decided to be seriously serious?" suggested Hermione.
"Exactly," he agreed. She kissed him.
They settled in by the fire, listening to the radio play Christmas music. "Hmmm, I just thought of a problem," Hermione looked worried. "If you want to take Malin to the ministry ball she's going to need a dress or formal robes."
"Oh, shite! And we get back with next to no time." Harry looked at her eyes wide.
Tove cleared her throat, "Pardon me, but you are our guests. Y have but to ask. I know of two who would drop everything and come tonight. They are married orphans. I only add that to assure you it would not interrupt a family gathering."
"Send for them, please," requested Hermione. By the end of the night, the two tailors had Malin's dress designed and her measurements. They promised to have it ready when they left in four days, or before.
Malin tried to protest when Hermione and Harry argued over who would pay for the work. Marcus laid a hand on her shoulder, "Let them have their fun. This is a game. And both can easily afford it." She nodded and sat back to watch.
The last four days flew by. The elegant silk dress created for Malin reminded Hermione of the dress Mia Sera wore as Lily in Legends as the fairy princess. A soft cream brocade with gold accents. The light colors complimented her dark hair and eyes. Tore, Freya, Annika, Balor, and Tove escorted the foursome back to the meadow to portkey back to England. "Thank you for everything," Hermione said, "and before this becomes all of us thanking one another in a round, let's leave it there."
Tore nodded, "Then let us say farewell, and invite you to visit again in the future." They bowed.
"I am honored," she returned their bow.
The portkey delivered them to Kingsley's inner office. "Welcome back, good trip?"
Hermione hugged her friend, "Life changing."
"Sounds wonderful." He looked at Marcus and Harry, "Any problems?"
"Only one, which we dealt with swiftly."
"I see a new face," he looked at Hermione.
"This is Malin Bakken, she's agreed to visit and help me flesh out my report on Norwegian magical communities." Hermione omitted the other woman's burgeoning relationship with Harry. "She'll be staying with me."
"I'll have all the necessary id forms for her after the new year," promised Kingsley.
"I was educated at Drumstang if that helps with the forms," Malin offered.
"It does, thank you. I will see you lot at the ball, then."
"Yes, sir," Marcus says. He picked up the trunk containing Hermione's shrunken gifts. "See you, ladies, home?"
"This way, good sir," Hermione gestured to the floo. "Coming, Harry?"
"Yes, ma'am."
Hermione showed Malin to the spare room. Harry looked about, "You changed rooms when Ginny moved out?"
"I did. No reason to stay in the smaller room when I live alone. I'll have to send her the rest of her belongings." She indicated the packed boxes in the corner of the closet. "I should have sent them to the Burrow forever ago."
"I can have Kreacher do it if you like," offered Harry.
"That works," Hermione headed to her room.
Once Harry helped Malin unpack and settle in they went in search of Hermione and Marcus. They found the former pressed against the wall of her closet by the latter snogging. Harry cleared his throat, then jerked Malin to safety as both sent hexes in his direction. The latter because Harry startled him, the former because he annoyed her. "Sorry," Harry muttered. "I should get home and make sure Kreacher didn't decide to redecorate." He looked at Malin, "Would you like to join me?"
"Do I get a tour of your house?"
"Of course."
She beamed, "Even the closets?"
He gave her a sly smile, "Every closet if you like."
"Then, yes, I would." They left the room hand in hand with the briefest wave of farewell."
"Alone at last," Marcus flashed her a wolfish grin. "Though I like Potter's idea, come home with me?"
She looked confused, "He did that to get some privacy and give us some."
"Sure then he's going to snog her senseless in his bed. And tonight it will smell like her."
"Oh," Hermione blinked.
He began kissing and sucking on her neck. "And it will be a hundred times easier to imagine her there," he breathed against her skin.
"Yes, please," he wrapped his arms around her and apparated them to his flat. He dropped his rucksack by the door so he could scoop her up in his arms.
Four strides took them across the front room. He kicked the bedroom door shut behind him. He laid her on the bed and pulled off her jeans and knickers in one quick jerk. When she started to move up the mattress he stopped her. Dropping to his knees he pulled her to the edge of the bed and put her legs over his shoulders, lifting her hips off the bed. "What? Oh, oh," Hermione started, changing her tone as his tongue made contact with her core.
Flattening his tongue, he laved at her opening, lapping the juices that pooled there. He sucked on the sensitive nerve bundle near her clit, before slipping two fingers inside her. He curled his fingers against her inner wall causing her to keen in pleasure. "Oh, sweet fuck. More. I need more." Her hips tried to buck against him. She fisted the blanket below her. "Fuck me," she begged, "please."
"Come first," he commanded. He added another finger to her tightness. Her muscles clenched down around them. "I said come, witch," he growled. The rough movement and harsh tone sent her spiraling into an orgasm.
Before she recovered Marcus lowered her legs and dropped his trousers. He pulled her to him and slid into her in a continuous motion, using his hands on her hips to help him move her up and down his length. She grabbed his shoulders for balance. She moaned, climbing to the peak again. "Marcus, oh, oh gods, Marcus!" she wailed. He increased his pace, slamming up into her as she pushed
down.
"Hermione!" he called as came. Carefully he laid her down beside him. She cuddled into him, basking in the afterglow. He kissed the top of her head. She smiled at the gesture. She hovered on the edge of consciousness when a door opened and she heard voices.
Correction, she heard giggles. She poked Marcus, who woke instantly. He listened for a second then rolled his eyes and glared. A male voice began charming a girl out of her pants. "Are you sure this is okay?" she asked, "No one else is here?"
"No one is home. Just us, baby," he promised.
Hermione eyes Marcus, "I thought you lived alone," she whispered.
"I do," he answered. "Cassius has a spare key for emergencies and an overbearing mother. I assume he didn't anticipate we'd arrive home this early."
"Does he do this often?"
"Not to my knowledge."
They listened as the two went into the second bedroom. "What to have some fun?"
"I'm listening."
She smirked, "Give them five or so minutes to get into the act. We'll get dressed, sneak to the front door, and come in loudly. Then we hang out in the
common room. The only way out is the door or apparation. Can't apparate or the jig is up and she knows it wasn't okay. Either way instant karma."
"I love it. Let's do it." Marcus silently cast stealth spells on each of them and his bedroom door. They quietly moved across the room, cringing at the very enthusiastic sounds coming from the other room. He eased the front door open and pulled it closed.
Hermione giggled briefly, then composed herself, "I'm ready."
He nodded and opened the door. "Let me show you around," he said in a loud voice. "You can see the living room, the kitchen's over there. This door is my room. The bathroom is over here."
"And that room?" she asked.
Marcus put his hand on the doorknob and gave it a slight turn, "Spare room, not much."
"That's okay then," she said making faces at him.
"Would you like to stay? Hang out a bit?"
"Sure, I'd love to."
They sat on the couch while Hermione explained to Marcus about the telly. Twenty minutes later they heard a shout from the spare bedroom, "What do you mean you don't live here?" Followed by a slap. Seconds later a barely dressed woman rushed out. "Sweet Merlin, Hermione Granger!" She whirled around throwing her shoe at the half-naked man. "You embarrassed me in front of Hermione Granger." She covered her face and raced out of the flat.
"Now, I feel bad for her," Marcus frowned. "Thanks, arse face." He sent a stinging hex at Cassius who yelped.
"Why the fuck are you back so early?"
"Because we are. How many birds have you brought back to mine?" demanded Marcus.
"I don't know, I don't keep track." Cassius flopped into a chair, dangling his leg over an arm. "How was it? Have a good time? Do anything I would?"
Hermione answered, "Lovely, yes, and no I didn't have sex at my friend's flat."
"But you did have sex?" he shot back.
"Yes, and what of it?" she raised an eyebrow. "Lots of people have sex. Some of them in broad daylight at not their place. Don't judge me, I won't judge you."
"What about Iris?" Cassius asked cautiously.
"Her taste in men aside, no. Why?"
"She starts in your department after the new year."
"Oh, well, if she'll talk to you assure her I didn't see her face and you declined to reveal her identity to protect her. And I see her as the victim of your dastardly acts."
"If she'll talk to me," Cassius noted.
"Exactly," she laughed.
"Seriously now," he looked at Marcus, "you two are a thing?"
Marcus smiled at Hermione, "Yep."
"A casual thing?"
"Decidedly not," sniffed Hermione.
"Oh, wow, that's brilliant. Can I be there when you tell Adrian? He will not shut up about her. I, uh, mean, you. I'm shutting up now."
She laughed at Cassius's face and then at Marcus's glare. "You don't have anything to worry about. I like being the pretty one."
"I'm not pretty?"
She climbed onto his lap despite the audience, "Nope, you are ruggedly handsome in a brutish way." She kissed the tip of his nose.
"Brutish?" he tried, and failed, to act upset.
"Feral almost. I like it." She tugged on his earlobe with her teeth.
"Good," he captured her lips in a searing kiss.
Eventually, Cassius cleared his throat, "Um still here."
"We know," Hermione said without looking at him. "Why do you think we're still clothed?"
Marcus nipped her neck, "We should be nice to Cas?"
"Why? Ugh, fine." She slipped off of his lap.
"So, what did we miss?" Marcus asked.
"Not much, mostly everybody plotting on how to get some of Granger's good fortune. Expect lots of dinner invitations and mobbings."
She rolled her eyes and huffed, "Yes, because I have something everyone else instantly just deserves some."
"Please keep the hexes on this side of Azkaban," Marcus teased her.
"In defense of my person, property, or the innocent I make no promises."
"That's my girl." Glancing at the clock Marcus asked, "What time do you think Malin will be back?"
"No idea, why?"
"Want to see if she and Potter want to get dinner? Cas could collect Ades, Graham, Peregrine, and maybe a few of the girls."
"Even if they don't, I do. Can I pop home and change?"
"Sure. How about that new pub at the far end of Diagon Alley? Just opened last month?"
"Sounds good," she kissed him farewell and waved to Cassius.
"You are one lucky son of a bitch," she heard the latter tell the former.
"You have no idea, mate."
She popped over the Grimmauld Place, landing by the front door. "Kreacher?"
The house elf entered the antechamber, "Missy Hermy calls for Kreacher?"
"I did, is your master home?"
"He is. He is showing mistress the library. She wishes to read."
"Thank you, Kreacher."
"Missy is most welcomes," he nodded.
Hermione took pains to announce her presence. She even rapped on the library door. "Anybody home?"
Harry popped around a bookshelf, "Hermione, what's up?"
"Marcus and some of his friends invited the three of us to dinner. I'm headed home to change and head back if you're interested?"
Harry looked over at Malin and nodded. "Looks like we're in. You two go get ready and I'll meet you at your place."
"We're going to the new pub at the Alley," Hermione informed him.
"Dressy casual got it," he gave her a thumbs up.
Harry arrived just as Hermione put the finishing touches on her appearance. She tamed her hair with her Tree of Life hair clip. A light layer of makeup completed her look. She smiled at her reflection. The dark circles under her eyes had vanished. The sad, empty look in her eyes disappeared. She looked happy, she was happy. And she was going to spend the evening with part of that happiness.
A small crowd milled about Marcus's flat. After Cassius left Marcus quickly cleaned his flat and showered. A long sleeve oxford with rolled-up sleeves, a pair of khakis, and a splash of cologne and he was ready. He eyed a few of the people gathered suspiciously. Not usually the ones to show up. Sadie Babbock, Bridget Bletchly, and Nerissa Tuttle were the girls he meant, not Gemma Fawley and her ilk. He glared at Cassius, who held up his hands in surrender. "I invited the normal bunch. Some of them brought people. Sorry?"
Marcus started to turn when he heard one of the over-painted tarts speak up, "Do you think you could absorb it from her hair? She'd never miss a chunk." The clutch of girls twittered shrilly.
Adrian left forward to intercede when he caught sight of the look of fury on his best mate's face. "Oi! What the actual fuck?" Everyone looked at him. "Our boy gets his dream girl and all you lot care about is using her? Are you trying to ruin this for him? He invites her to meet his mates and you're all scheming? Are you stupid? That girl is a damn war hero and she stood shoulder to shoulder with the Boy-Who-fucking-Lived. Anything left after she gets done won't make it past him, or vice versa."
Graham looked around the room, "If you aren't here to meet Marcus's new girlfriend get lost." He made eye contact with several people.
"Don't leave on my account." Everyone whirled. Hermione stood in the doorway flanked by Harry and Malin. "Or, rather, don't leave yet. You can spread a message for me. The blessing and good fortune from the celebration are mine. Mine to share, mine to keep, they cannot be transferred without my express consent. Subterfuge or force will be dealt with swiftly and painfully. I owe you nothing. I owe the wizarding world at large nothing. But you, you lot, owe me, Harry, and the Order of Phoenix everything. Try to remember that." She made her way through the stunned parted crowd to Marcus. For his part, he stood smirking at her. "Damn, that felt good. Hello, handsome."
"Beautiful," he greeted.
Adrian popped up next to them, "Not going to lie: that's hot." He held out his hand, "Adrian Pucey."
"Hello, are all these people actually coming with us?"
"If they do, we'll keep your table to the regulars only."
"Thank you." She turned her attention back to Marcus, "How do I look?" She spun slowly, the skirt of her green skater dress flaring slightly.
"Stunning, but those little sleeves won't you be cold?" Marcus asked. She held up a black knitted cardigan with small purple flowers.
"It looks like her grandmother's," muttered one of the tarts.
Without looking away from Marcus, Hermione responded, "Great-grandmother's. It's vintage from the 20s. I only wear it for important events. I thought this would be one." She looked over at the speaker, "Same I was wrong." She narrowed her eyes.
Peregrine noticed her increasing irritation, the simmering anger in Potter's eyes, and the defeated bracing in Marcus's posture. "That's it. This is a special occasion. Like Pucey said if you're not here to make Flint's girlfriend welcome out."
When no one moved Peregrine, Cassius, and Graham began directing people out the door, starting with the girl who made the cardigan comment. "Nope," Graham replied to arguments, " you lot had your chance. Get going." A select few made a case and were allowed to stay. In the end, a more manageable crowd of 12 remained, aside from Hermione, Marcus, Harry, and Malin.
"That's better," Peregrine smiled and introduced himself. "We've never officially met, but I've received numerous document requests from you."
"Then, hello, and thank you for your invaluable assistance," she dimpled.
One of the blonde girls stepped forward, "Sadie Babbock, delighted to meet you. I was promised food and I am starving. So, food now, introductions later."
Graham shot her a look, "Excuse her, she traded in her manners for a pair of designer shoes."
"Totally worth it. And I introduced myself. I'm not blaming Hermione, I hold the sycophants responsible."
"I appreciate it," said Hermione. "Are they nice shoes? And what else do they take in trade?"
Sadie laughed, "Oh, I like you." She turned to Adrian, "Feed me."
The group apparated to Diagon Alley. After a week of habit, Marcus and Harry moved to her sides, glaring
at anyone who tried to get close. Noticing the behavior of the staring crowds, the others moved to surround her. She huffed but remained silent. Harry and Marcus were trying to protect her because they cared. The others joined in because they care about Marcus. In their places, she would have done the same thing.
The Dragon's Lair resembled a country pub. The hanging sign depicted a dragon guarding the letters like a hoard. Inside the ambiance felt warm and inviting. Not too dimly lit, but also not too bright, either. Bar stools lined up along the wooden polished bar. Tables dotted the open floor while booths lined both walls. Best of all both bathroom doors were in complete view of the entire taproom. Ever since their first night on the run she had hated hidden bathrooms, always remembering the ambush.
"Hermione Granger! Where have you been hiding?" She looked around, searching for the familiar voice.
"Dean!" The tall dark skinned man rushed around the bar to grab her up in a bear hug.
"Don't you look a sight? How was your trip?"
"Great. Are you working in here?"
"Part owner, actually, me and Justin Finch-Fletchley. Once downstairs takes off we're going to put in a coffee art house upstairs."
"I hope you plan on showcasing your own work?"
"Of course," he gave her a coy look, "and maybe some famous muggle reproductions." They chuckled. Dean turned, "Harry, mate, how have you been?"
"Not bad," they shook hands.
"Heard about Ginny, sorry," Dean frowned.
Harry shrugged, "It is what it is." He tugged Malin over. "This is our new friend, Malin Bakken. Malin, Dean Thomas. We were all in Gryffindor together. She's visiting from Norway with an eye towards moving here."
"Welcome, Malin," again Dean shook hands. "So, Hermione's wearing Nana's cardigan, that means tonight's special." He winked at her. "What's up?"
Hermione rolled her eyes, "Meeting the new boyfriend's friends." She smirked at Marcus, who grinned in return.
Dean clapped him on the back, "Good on ye, mate, you're a lucky bastard. Well then, tonight's on the house."
Hermione protested while the rest of the group cheered, "Dean, no, there are sixteen of us."
"So? Once the fact that you lot are here makes the rounds, the place will be packed. Each of you could eat like Ron and drink like Seamus, and I'll still make a hefty profit." Realizing what he said, he tried to apologize.
"It's fine. I've made my peace with it. I may not like aspects of it, but it is done. I don't avoid him or anything. I suppose if I can't change your mind, let's order.
The Dragon's Lair filled up quite quickly. The group pulled several tables up to a booth. "This keeps us together and keeps people away from Hermione. Don't want her hexing anyone tonight," Nerissa explained.
"Or do we?" joked Bridgette. "I've heard the stories, I want to see Marc's girl in action."
"They all think that," laughed Harry and he changed the subject. Somehow funny stories about Marcus became a popular topic. The large table easily ignored the crowd watching them.
Having heard about the commotion at the pub, but not the cause, Veronica and Ginny popped in. Ginny's heart raced at the sight of Harry. He looked relaxed and cheerful. He laughed easily at a joke someone made. She frowned noticing the pretty girls at the table. Had he moved on? Were they really over? Maybe she needed a date for the ball, remind him what he was giving up, and make him jealous.
Veronica tried not to glare at Hermione. Greedy bint refused to take Ron with her. Those blessings would have helped them greatly. She still seethed that Hermione had taken more than half of the shared vault and demanded Ron pay her for half of the flat. Who cares if she deposited more than he did and paid for half of it? He had a family to provide for. She moved in with Ginny, she could have afforded the loss and been gracious. She turned towards her sister-in-law, "We came, we saw, nothing special here. Let's go."
Not taking her eyes off of Harry, "Agreed." As the witches retreated more whispers erupted, speculating what could be going on. The two reached the door at the same time Fred and George did.
"Leaving so soon, sisters dear?" asked George.
Fred picked up the conversation, "You just got here. Fancy a drink?"
"We'll pay," they said in unison.
"No, I need to get home to Hugo and get dinner started," Veronica declined.
"I have some things I need to arrange before the ball," replied Ginny.
The twins exchanged a look and shrugged, "Suit yourselves." They continued in and made a beeline for Hermione.
"Gred, it's our favorite sister!"
"I see that, Forge, let's not get out feelings hurt," started one.
"That we didn't rate an invite," finished the other.
Hermione rolled her eyes at their antics, "Hello to you both. Not my gathering. Should I take leave of my senses and decide to expose my new boyfriend to my friends then I will invite you."
Fred looked up and down the table before nodding, "Ah, Flint, he fits your type."
George nodded, "We knew Ronniekins had to be a fluke. If you liked them pretty you could have had us." She shook her head.
"Now, seriously though," Fred said, "I need to ask your blessing to propose to Angelina."
"Why?" Hermione's eyebrows raised.
"Stalling tactic on her part. She wants to wait for her sister to get engaged first," George informed her.
"I am not getting involved. Do what you want. That is all the blessing you're getting."
"But, Hermione," whined Fred, "that's cheating."
Harry nudged Bridgette, "You might get your wish," he whispered. The other girl leaned forward eagerly.
"So is cornering me in public, especially knowing how I feel about barbaric customs and outdated practices."
"But you said wizarding customs are important," chided George. He attempted the duck the dual jets of orange lights that shot from her wand. "Wow, Fred, two minutes. That might be a new record."
Bridgette frowned, "You know your freckles are blue and your hair is a muddy brown, right?"
"Sure, or rather, I know they aren't green or blond, because Fred's are. She never makes us match."
Fred grinned, "Someday she'll manage rainbow freckles."
"Someday it'll be permanent," she threatened.
They smiled at her fondly, "So savage."
George looked at Marcus, "Are you sure you want to risk this temper?"
"I don't plan on poking her when she's annoyed," Marcus informed them.
"Good plan," praised Harry.
"Are you staying to hang out or stopping by to pester?" Hermione asked.
"Pester?" Fred sounded indignant. He clutched his chest and staggered back.
"We do not pester, deal lady, we entertain," corrected George.
"And delight," Fred popped back over. "But alas, we are expected elsewhere." He grinned cheekily. "I shall have to tell Angelina you still disapprove of our love." Faster than anyone could track, Hermione zapped him with a stinging hex. "Ow, woman!"
"Yes?" she asked in a low dangerous voice.
"That hurt."
"And? It wasn't supposed to tickle," she raised an eyebrow.
"Nothing," he grinned still rubbing his arm. "See you New Year's?"
"You know it."
"Love you, Hermione," they sing songed in unison.
She shook her head, "Idiots."
The rest of the evening went smoothly. As they went to leave Hermione pulled Dean into the kitchen, "Thank you for everything today." She placed one of his hands between hers."
"May joy find you in all your ways." She felt a tingle run down her arms as she pumped his hand.
"Hermione, what? You didn't have to do that. I wanted to help you celebrate your new relationship. What Ron did was horrible. And she's horrible."
"I know all that, that's why I wanted to share with you." She hugged him. "Thank you for reminding me that I always had real friends."
"You never have to thank me for that."