Hello, my freaky darlings. Another Saturday, another chapter. I hope you are all doing well. Enjoy! And since it has been a minute since I reminded anyone of this: I own nothing but a minivan with a brand new engine. Stupid car repairs.
Chapter 18 Summer Days
Back in her bed that night she used her journal to contact Marcus.

H: Made it home at last. I prefer the trips where we travel by train. Longer perhaps, but more comfortable.

M: I'll have to take your word for it.

H: Someday I'll take you for a longer car ride without making Doors. You can judge for yourself.

M: Sounds like fun.

H: Seriously?

M: Any time spent with you is fun.

H: Remember that when I'm revising for my OWLs like deranged person.

M: Will your parents care if I visit soon? Or you can come here.

H: My parents leave on a conference tour again tomorrow. I'm off to No. 12 Grimmauld Place for the next year.

M: Never heard of it.

H: Current residence of Sirius Black, my magical guardian. Do you remember him?

M: I do.

H: I doubt he would mind if I went to you or you came to me.

M: Okay, let me know when and where.

H: I will. Good night.

M: Sweet dreams, little witch.

Hermione smiled at her journal. She set it aside and settled into sleep. In the morning she waved farewell as her parents' taxi whisked them off to Heathrow. She held out her wand, opting to travel by Knight Bus rather than using a door. The dizzying mode of transportation deposited her on the doorstep of No. 12 in a matter of minutes.

Solemn faces greeted her, "What's wrong? What happened?" Silently Harry handed her that day's edition of what passed for a newspaper in the wizarding world.

"Why is Professor Dumbledore cautioning the population about Voldemort's return? And why is he bringing Harry into it?" she asked.

"Voldemort is returning," pointed out Harry.

"Sure."

"And I have faced him."

"True. But why warn your enemy you know his plans?" She sat and Kreacher brought her a cup of tea. "Thank you, Kreacher." The house elf gave her what passed for an approving look at her expression of gratitude.

"We don't know. The Order of the Phoenix is reconvening here tonight to discuss matters," Sirius informed them. "We're not the only ones confused and feeling left in the dark.

"I'm sure Dumbledore knows something we don't," assured Remus.

"Does any of this change our freedom to come and go?" Hermione asked.

"Make sure someone knows where you're going," instructed Sirius. "Let someone know if you'll be home late. I'd rather trust you to be upfront with me than risk you sneaking out for something." He ran his hands through his hair. "Not going to lie, I'll feel better anytime you hang out here instead. But I won't keep you prisoners, ever."

"That sounds fair enough," replied Hermione.

"The Weasleys come over nearly every day, that's like half our friends," said Harry. "The ones we hang out with most anyway."

"No, it isn't. You should go see Neville or invite him here. We both should," Hermione snapped. "And I have friends in other houses. You could too if you made the effort."

Harry blinked, "Oh."

"Yes, oh." She finished her tea and went to unpack her things. She decided on a whim to do what she told Harry to she invited Neville over for a visit. She'd write to Marcus and get his thoughts on his place or hers later. Neville responded with a counter invitation to his house. His gran wanted to meet his friend if she didn't mind. She accepted.
Late afternoon, early evening the Weasleys descended for dinner. Despite the agreement, Molly tried to help. "Percy's working late again," she sighed to herself. "I was hoping for a distraction."

"Percy's distancing himself from Dumbledore," reported Ginny. "Thinks he's going balmy. Which are also the Ministry's thoughts on the matter. And anyone who thinks otherwise is wrong in Percy's eyes, which means Mum and Dad."

Tonks, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Bill Weasley, and several witches and wizards Hermione didn't know arrived after Kreacher cleared the dishes. Hermione noticed Mrs. Weasley did not fuss about the house elf doing the menial daily chores. She began shooing the teenagers, "This is adult conversation."

"Someone tell that to You-Know-Who," muttered Ron.

"What was that, young man?" demanded this mother. Sirius looked at Harry clearly conveying they should go and he would fill them in later. Harry grabbed Ron's arm and gently tugged for him to follow the rest of his siblings.

"This is stupid," groused Ron as he stomped about the parlor.

"We all agree, but throwing a wobbly won't change your mum's mind," said Hermione looking up from her book. "Sirius will tell Harry and Harry will tell us. We get the information we need, your mother gets her fantasy we aren't up to our eyeballs in this. Everybody wins, nobody gets smacked with a spoon."

"What if I asked you very nicely?" joked Fred.

"Still no."

Fred laughed, "Spoilsport."

"Yes, well I exist for more than your entertainment."

George plopped down next to her. "I don't. My life revolves around entertaining Freddie."

She patted her leg, "We all need goals in life."

"We need to distract ourselves," declared Ginny. "May I suggest quidditch at the Burrow?"

"Mum will go mental that we went home alone," pointed out Ron. "Remember when Dad suggested leaving us home?"

"Exploding Snap?" suggested George. "Two many of us for chess."

"Harry and I could teach you lot Bullshite, if he knows it. My cousin taught me. American exchange taught him."

"Is that one where you lay down cards according to value and if you don't have it you bluff?" clarified Harry.

"Yes," she answered, "If you think they're lying you say bullshite. If they weren't you pick up the whole pile, if they were they do. Winner is the first one to run out of cards and not get caught. We just need four decks of cards."

Laughter and shouts filled the room as they began playing, the injustice of missing a meeting forgotten. "Bullshite, bullshite, bullshite!" yelled Ginny.

Hermione flipped over four aces, "Nope, pick 'em up. Also, I'm out, I win."

Mr. Weasley chose to overlook the unladylike language spewing from his daughter since all of them were in better spirits now. "Are you lot ready to head out?"

"Sure," said George. "Let's clean up." Glasses and the remnants of snacks decorated the room.

Kreacher appeared out of nowhere smacking hands. "Kreacher cleans up daily messes if he lets bossy witch deep clean."

Fred held up his hands in surrender, "No arguments, mate. Clean away." The Weasleys tromped off the fireplace to return to the Burrow.

Harry regarded Sirius expectantly. The older man ran his hands through his hair and scrubbed his face. "Percy Weasley may be correct. Dumbledore might be losing his edge." He shook his head. "Nothing has happened beyond some rumblings and Crouch Sr. breaking his son out of prison. Then Crouch Jr. masquerading as Mad-Eye under our noses. Which Dumbledore should have caught."

"Maybe he did," mused Hermione.

"Huh?" Sirius stared at her.

"Maybe he realized it wasn't Moody, and decided to see what they had planned. And maybe he wants Voldemort to return. Personally, I would rather stop the man before it became an all-out reign of terror and fighting in the streets again. And maybe that is what he thinks he's doing. The first two times he waited until far too long to engage with the dark wizards."

"An idea worth considering," praised Remus. "But not tonight. Tonight was supposed to be why he keeps telling the Prophet that Voldemort is returning. And it was all about Crouch Jr. and rather pointless."

"How depressing is it that our second-best Defense instructor was a disguised Death Eater?" pondered Hermione.

"Second best?" questioned Sirius. "Who was the best?"

"Remus," answered Harry and Hermione in unison.

"Interesting. So, Albus says that Voldemort is still growing in power, even with his last ritual disrupted. Or rather, at the very least not losing any. The usuals don't seem to be recruiting yet."

"So why tip our hand?" asked Harry.

"I suppose to avoid some of what happened the first time. You-Know-Who had the ministry well in hand before anyone could form a proper resistance." Sirius huffed and looked at the ceiling. "We only won because of Lily's sacrifice."

"And James's," added Hermione. "He wanted her to grab Harry and run." Both Sirius and Harry stared at her. "You talk in your sleep. You were urging your mum to listen to your dad."

"Oh," Harry said lamely. He shook himself. "So what does Dumbledore want the Order to do?"

"He thinks the Death Eaters will steal a prophecy from the Department of Mysteries. He wants us to guard it. And encourage others to accept the dark times are about to begin again."

"Well, good luck with that," Hermione slapped her hands against the table. "Most people refuse to believe bad news without proof and even then not until they have to. I'm going to bed. I'm visiting Neville tomorrow."

"Good night, kitten."

"Good night, Sirius, Harry, Remus," she smiled as she stood. They offered their wishes for sweet dreams. In her room, she wished Marcus a good night and promised to see him the day after the next.

Opting for informal, Hermione wore muggle clothing to Longbottom Estates. "Hello, Neville," she greeted him.

"Hi, Hermione. Thanks for coming. Gran wants to meet you first if that's okay?"

"Of course."

She followed him into the house and to the small parlor. An elderly witch dressed in severe robes sat in a large wing chair. "Gran? This is my friend, Hermione Granger. Hermione, my grandmother, Augusta Longbottom."

"Hello, ma'am."

"Hello indeed, my dear. It is nice to meet one of Neville's classmates," she held out her hand to shake.

Hermione shook her hand and responded, "Thank you for having me."

"You may go now. Young people rarely want to spend time with their elders."

"Why not? You're a valuable source of knowledge. I'm sure you know much we could learn."

Augusta blinked and looked at her grandson who shrugged, "She means it. Hermione likes learning things. And she doesn't say things just to flatter."

"That they flatter is a side benefit."

"Well then, by all means, let us visit properly," Augusta settled back in her chair and ordered tea.

By the end of her stories, Hermione understood August Longbottom better. A firebrand in her youth, she was a dueling champion who traveled the international circuit before she married and stayed home to raise her son. Frank had been her carbon copy, her pride and joy. She insisted Neville used his wand to honor his memory. Hermione considered the matter and Neville's difficult. "Are you like your father then?"

"I don't know, they were attacked when I was a baby," he said carefully.

Hermione looked to his grandmother, who frowned, "Neville is more like Alice, his mother, in temperament. She was careful, slower to action."

"May I ask why he uses Mr. Longbottom's wand instead of Mrs. Longbottom's then? I know it's none of my business, but I just wonder..." Hermione trailed off leaving the thought unsaid.

Augusta bristled, but the younger witch merely regarded her calmly. "What do you wonder?"

"Neville's magic is all over the place. His self confidence plays a part, but he seems to put more effort into his spells. And he's a solid personality, steady, like a bear. He shouldn't struggle so." She smiled fondly at her friend.

"You think his wand impedes him?" demanded Augusta.

"I do. I think his mother's might suit him better." Neville stared at her in mute horror. "Again, none of my business, just an observational thought."

Mrs. Longbottom studied the girl sitting before her. Hermione sat running her thumb over her fingernails as if waiting. For what she wasn't sure. She looked at Neville and felt a pang shoot through her heart at the complete fear on his face. He seemed sure his gran was about to murder his friend. "You mentioned his self confidence, why?"

"When he is in his element his control and focus are unparalleled. A wizard attuned to his wand will still be able to perform basic spells with baseline results despite stress or without emotional stimuli. On occasion, he still needs emotion to power them. I know the deficiency isn't him. That leaves an improper wand."

"Neville, why have you never mentioned your difficulties?"

"I, uh, that is to say, I," Neville's face turned bright red. He began to sputter.

Augusta nodded to herself, "I see, you wished to spare yourself my wrath."

"More likely your feelings," said Hermione. "Your grandson is a kind, compassionate fellow. He is not a coward." The last was said with a subtle, but hard, edge to it.

Augusta collapsed against the back of her chair at that statement. "I am very glad my grandson has fiercely loyal friends in Gryffindor. We will look into a new wand as Alice's was never recovered," she nodded to each of them. "I assume now you wish to escape the old lady?"

"Not at all," beamed Hermione. "I enjoy your stories."

Augusta threw her head and laughed. "Off with you cheeky beggars. Go be young."

Neville gave her a tour of the house and grounds. She cooed over his greenhouse, "This is brilliant, Nev. You're a natural, you know that?"

"Growing things doesn't take a lot of magic," he shrugged. She smacked the back of his head. "Ow!"

"Don't degrade yourself in front of me. I'm not going to tolerate it anymore."

"Okay," Neville rubbed the back of his head. "Does this mean you're not going to let Ron bully people?"

"It does. Some things I'll let go of, but not the overt stuff. We need to pick our battles. We have to live with him after all."

"I guess that makes sense," he replied.

"And kind, but firm, treatment may gain better results. Or at least I can dream it will. But I intend to try."

Once home, Hermione went in search of Sirius, "Hello," she said, startling him. "Sorry, I thought you heard me."

He pressed a hand to his chest dramatically, "I clearly did not. How can I help, kitten?"

"Just letting you know I'm back, and that I plan to go visit Marcus Flint tomorrow at the Ramble."

"Why not have him come here?" he countered. She hesitated. "What? Ashamed of us?"

"No, but Harry and Ron don't know we even know one another, let alone like each other."

"I see. Well, still, he's welcome here whenever you like."

"Thank you, Sirius."

She let Marcus know she was coming when they "spoke" that night.

M: Dahlia will be excited. She liked meeting you.

H: I liked meeting her.

M: Jasper might mind. Mum told him that if you're here his friends can't be. Your privacy trumps everything.

H: I don't mind people knowing about us. Well, people who will be nice about us.

M: So, not Malfoy or Parkinson? No, that's fair. I'll tell Mum."

She chose to arrive in the small grove in the woods beyond the meadow. She chuckled fondly as the magic greeted her. More warmly than last time, it caressed her skin loveingly. As if the family got a say in her love life. She sent a small paper bird to Marcus letting him know she arrived. She paused at the treeline, and seeing only empty grass she headed for the house. Marcus met her halfway through the open field. He hugged her tightly. "Hi."

"Hi," she said.

"You're here." He smiled down at her.

"I am. Do you want to stay out here or go inside?"

"Can we stay out here? Do you mind? I get you all to myself that way," he explained.

"I like the sound of that."

They lay in the grass and talked of nothings. She told him about her visit to Bulgaria. "Rhys said something during the Solstice," she mentioned slowly.

"Did he?" Marcus idly played with her hair. She lay flat on her back as he leaned on one arm looming over her a bit.

"He did. He said you thought you weren't good enough for me."

"Did he add he said only you got to decide that?"

"No, but I agree." She caressed his cheek. "You've been patient, kind, and rather sweet the entire time I've known you. He also mentioned I should tell you Viktor and I didn't just break up because of distance. Not that we were officially dating anyway, but that doesn't matter." She waved away his protests. "Viktor deserves the freedom to enjoy being a young professional sports star and all the benefits. And I didn't want to risk cheating on him. Because I fancied someone more than I did him. We both just kind of knew we weren't going to be together in the long run."

Marcus blinked a her, his heart in his throat. "Do you mean me? You fancied me more than him?"

She rolled her eyes, her smile keeping it from stinging, "Who else would I mean?"

"I don't know. You, you broke up with him so you wouldn't cheat with me?"

"Pretty much," she admitted.

"That's mental." He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck. She moved her lips against his. He responded by pressing against her, pushing her into the ground. "But good mental." He kissed her again. "The best." She giggled.

They stayed like that until someone called his name, "Marcus!" Hermione assumed it was his brother coming to tease her boyfriend. He raised his head above the level of the grass looking around. "There you are, mate."

A flash of panic crossed his face. "What's wrong?" she asked concerned.

"That's not Felix, little witch. That's Adrian." At her blank look, he clarified, "Adrian Pucey."

"Oh," she said a little surprised.

"Yeah, oh," he frowned. This could go so wrong. 'Or right,' pointed out a little voice in the back of his mind. He ignored it. He stared down at her trying to gauge her reaction.

"Do you not want me to meet him? I thought he was your best friend?"

"He and Theo are tied for it. And I want you to meet people when you're ready to, not because you were forced to."

"Where would I go if I didn't want to?" she asked looking around at the grass.

"Good point. Still, want me to get rid of him?"

"And make him more curious? Why? Do you want to get rid of him?"

"Yes, we were snogging. It was rather grand. If he goes away we can keep snogging."

"Marcus, stop evading the real question. Do you want me to meet Adrian?"

"Yes, no, I don't know." She leaned up to kiss him again. His raging thought melted away. He sank into her kiss. "You're not the problem."

"Oi! What's going on, git? What's with making me walk all the way out here like this?" grumbled the voice. "Rude really."

"Then take the hint and go away," Marcus yelled back.

"What are you hiding? Or rather, who?" the voice sounded closer. Soon sandy brown hair came into view followed by a forehead. "Oh, hello."

Marcus shifted from half on top of her to lying next to her. He sat up, still blocking Hermione from view. He looked up at his friend, "What do you want?"

"I was bored and wanted you to entertain me. And it looks like you will," Adrian grinned broadly. He leaned over trying to see around Marcus. "Who do these delicious legs belong to?" He leered at her lower half.

"Oi! Knock it off. Keep your eyes to yourself," demanded Marcus. Adrian held up his hands in surrender. "If you're going to be a creep I won't introduce you to my girlfriend."

"Girlfriend?"

Tiring of their antics, Hermione sat up. "Holy fuck, Granger! How the hell is Hermione Granger your girlfriend?"

"He asked nicely, I said yes. There was some kissing, some hand holding in there at some point," she sassed.

"How do you even know each other?" Adrian demanded.

"We have lives outside of our less open-minded friends," she sniffed. "Okay, I see why you didn't want to introduce us, he's not too bright."

"I am plenty bright, thank you very much," he protested. "You have to admit this is kind of crazy."

Marcus kissed her temple, "Stop tormenting Adrian. He'll calm down once he gets over the shock."

She patted Marcus's cheek, "So long as he does calm down. And it's not like I'm rushing off to tell my friends."

"I told Theo," Marcus told her.

"You told Nott, but not me?" Adrian sounded indignant.

"Theo has been my friend since our second year," Hermione told him. "I would have told him if Marcus hadn't."

"How has no one noticed any of this?"

Marcus shrugged, "No one really pays attention. No one knew Hermione and Krum were friendly and they were far less secretive."

"Okay, point. Are you going to be public at school?"

"Unlikely," she said slowly, "there are complicating factors."

Adrian looked annoyed, "Like?"

"I'm muggleborn. A lot of Gryffindors don't like Slytherins and vice versa. Regardless of what the ministry says Lord Voldemort is returning. Administering the Kiss to Crouch Jr. before he could be interrogated changes nothing. We will be at war again eventually."

"You think we'll be the enemy?" asked Marcus concern coloring his tone.

"I hope not, but I understand the pressure you could be under to choose the quote unquote right side. And if some people know about our connection it could be harder for both of us."

"You could be correct," said Adrian quietly. "The more radical and loyal families have started feeling others out."

Hermione looked at Marcus, "Have they started on your family?"

"Nah, we're not wealthy or influential. They won't be interested in us until they need soldiers. And then they'll assume we're in. They won't bother wooing us."

She nodded, "Remind everyone about the woods." She blinked back tears. She took a few deep breaths to push back the dread spreading through her.

"I will," he tucked her hair behind her ears. "Don't worry about us, little witch."

"I will no what what, so save your breath." She smiled at him, "I will also protect you despite the risks, so save your breath there, too."

"Right back at you." He caressed her cheek.