A/N: There is some heavy sex and language in the beginning of this story. Just a warning to everyone who does not enjoy reading that type of thing. Thank you.

Spoken For by Lemonstar

..Marcus/Hermione.. Their relationship was supposed to be easy and uncomplicated. No strings attached. They would spend their time together and then go their separate ways. They had set rules for a reason. But then she just had to go and fall in love him.

..XX..

The sun was beginning to sink further down below the western horizon and brilliant rays of purple, red and orange streaked across the sky, growing darker by the moment. The lamps lining the streets of Hogsmeade were beginning to turn on and shopkeepers were preparing to close their businesses for the day so they could return home in time for supper.

Hermione Granger, now eighteen-years-old and in her seventh year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, slowly sat up in the rickety old bed, the thin white bed sheet kept closely around her otherwise naked body as she turned her head to look out the partially open window. She had to be leaving soon. She was Head Girl and it was her duty to help the professors gather all of the younger years together so they could head back to the castle together.

She tried to tell herself that she should be grateful that they had gotten even an hour together that weekend when she hadn't been expecting to have anytime with him but she couldn't help the heaviness that surrounded her heart and slowly made it sink down into her stomach. She had to go – her least favorite part of their… she supposed it was an arrangement. It certainly wasn't a relationship. He had told her that more than enough times for her to get the point.

"I don't do relationships, Granger," he had said during their first time together, his fingers slowly trailing down the side of her face and neck, causing goose bumps to flesh across her skin. Merlin, the man could make her hot. "When we're in bed, I'll give you anything you want. Except that."

At the time, it had seemed perfectly fine to agree to such a thing. She was eighteen-years-old and curious about the topic of sex and here was a man who was willing to fulfill all of her needs. She had read more than enough books on the subject and had stupidly given her virginity to Ron underneath the Quidditch stands last school year for, as she liked to refer to that fumbling disaster of an event, research purposes.

After experiencing it once, she thought she would never want to again. It wasn't that she didn't appreciate Ron helping her because he had been so eager to but it hadn't been at all like she had thought it would be. Ron had been too fast, too excited to actually be having sex like any other randy sixteen-year-old boy would be and it had all been over before Hermione could even experience anything that she had read.

She had made sure that Ron knew their coupling – no matter how brief it had been – had been just a one time occurrence and Ron had went off and was now dating Lavender, the perfect match for him in Hermione's opinion. She adored Ron, like a brother, and the thought of ever having anything more with him made her nauseous.

There wasn't a single other boy attending Hogwarts that she was remotely interested in. Perhaps she was a bit too much of a romantic because she was waiting for fireworks. She was waiting for a boy who could make her pulse speed and her palms sweat. No boy had been able to do any of those things for her however.

Until she met him, completely by chance, in Diagon Alley the summer before her seventh year began as she shopped for new school supplies that she needed.

He was everything she had wanted. Older, experienced, slightly rough around the edges. Actually, very rough around the edges. He certainly wasn't known around as being a people person. He was only twenty-two years old and yet his sheer size and rather twisted snarl could make men twice his age start to shake with nervousness.

Hermione was instantly pulled to him and she couldn't seem to stop herself though he used to be a Slytherin and in her mind, every member of that house was exactly like that blasted Draco Malfoy – cruel and cocky and filled with a sense of far superiority compared to everyone else. Hermione didn't know if she would be able to handle him and yet, she went to him nonetheless.

She had gone into Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions so Madame Malkin could fit her for a few new robes for school but the witch was already occupied with another customer, a tall and broad man who seemed made entirely of hard muscle. He had short black hair and eyes that looked to be the same shade of black. When he looked at her as she entered the shop, she instantly froze and felt a slight ache between her legs that she had never experienced before – certainly not from a male simply looking at her.

"No one can know about this," she had whispered to him as they met in their room for the night above the Leaky Cauldron a few days before she was set to leave for school. "I don't… it will be too hard to explain to everyone."

She could just imagine everyone's reactions if they found out that she, Hermione Granger, bookworm extraordinaire and Ms. Goody Two-Shoes herself, was involved in a purely sexual relationship with a man. They would be shocked, possibly disgusted - especially when they found out who the second half of the arrangement was. Ron would probably blow a gasket and Harry might actually faint over it.

He hadn't argued with her and had nodded in agreement before kissing her and showing her, in simplest terms, a night she would never forget. He had touched and kissed her and pounded into her, giving her the orgasms she had heard about but had never been able to experience. He had been absolutely perfect and Hermione was instantly addicted.

"Do you have to go?" He suddenly asked, his voice sounding groggy from having just woken up, and Hermione turned, being broken from her thoughts to look down at the man sprawled out next to her in the bed, rather naked and the sheets barely covering his body from her.

She nodded her head but didn't make a move to leave the bed. Instead, she laid down again and he instantly wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. He could be so strange sometimes. He vehemently said over and over again that what they had was just sex and nothing more but then he would hold her afterwards, almost as if he was… cuddling with her. She loved it, of course. He had such strong arms and she loved when he held her with them but she never asked him to. She feared that if she did, he never would again, embarrassed to have been doing it in the first place.

"I really should go," she whispered though still, she made no move to get up.

If she could, she would lay with him in that bed for the rest of her life, never leaving. It was becoming more and more difficult to leave him though she knew how stupid she was being. This was a no-strings attached arrangement. A purely sexual arrangement and nothing more. Nothing was to come out of this except mind-blowing sex and plenty of orgasms.

So why had she decided to further complicate it by going and falling in love with him? Love was the worst thing that could have happened – especially to them. It was going to ruin everything if she ever let her secret be known to him. If she told him that she was in love with him, he would apparate immediately from that room and she would never see him again. She couldn't risk that.

"Don't go yet," he whispered, his voice low and sending a shiver down her spine. "I haven't had my supper yet."

He rolled on top of her, pulling the sheet away so their naked skin could touch, and Hermione instantly closed her eyes, feeling him. She knew she should have gotten up when she had the chance.

"Marcus-"

She tried to say but he dropped his mouth to hers, cutting her off and kissing her hard, making her moan from deep in the throat. Her arms slid around his throat as his tongue plundered her mouth over and over again, making her wet and driving her crazy with her want for him. Her need for him. Gods, she needed him more than anything. She always did.

Marcus Flint was one hell of a kisser. Actually, Hermione thought, he was one hell of a lover who always gave her exactly what she wanted without needing her to ever tell him just what that was. He just seemed to always know.

He reached between their bodies. He was already hard and erect and Hermione spread her thighs a bit more, granting him access. He pulled his lips away from hers and she slowly blinked her eyes open to look up at him.

"Do you want me?" He asked, starting to rub the head up and down the intimate lips of her entrance.

Hermione moaned, her back bowing off the bed slightly. She knew that Marcus loved to make her beg for him and she found that she loved doing it, too. "Yesss," she hissed, grabbing his hips, trying to pull him in. "Please, Marcus. Please give it to me. Now."

Marcus smirked, thrusting forward slightly but not enough to enter her. He loved to tease her almost as much as he loved actually being inside of her. "Give you what?"

She stared up at him, barely hanging on by a thread. She was almost shaking with her sheer ache for him. "Pound your fat, long cock into my sweet, tight pussy and fuck me until I pass out."

She knew he loved it when she talked dirty to him like that and it never failed to get him completely turned on. He got off on the fact that no one except for him had ever heard such words come from her mouth.

She cried out as he thrust into her without hesitancy, her tight wet sleeve stretching to accommodate his large girth and in the back of her mind, she hoped that the silencing spells they had put on the room when they had first entered were still in tact. Marcus turned her into quite a screamer during sex.

He leaned forward a bit, his hands planted on either side of her head and then began to take her again, ramming into her body over and over, taking what he wanted from her, grunting as she jerked upwards on the bed with each savage thrust. Her breasts which she thought were too small but he silently thought were perfect were bouncing deliciously as she cried out.

Marcus rose up to his knees, holding her hips up and continuing to drive into her, shuffling forward when she slid, her head and shoulders resting on the pillow, the pillow moving under every thrust. She was dangerously nearing the headboard but he didn't think to stop. He couldn't stop. There was no possible way.

"More, more, fuck me harder," Hermione chanted in breathless gasps as he pounded her, thrusting in and out without missing a beat.

It would look almost savage to an on-looker but to Hermione, this was her favorite way to be taken and Marcus knew that. He showed her no mercy.

Someone knocked on the door to their room but neither noticed. All he knew at that moment was the tight, delicious orifice that gripped him over and over as he plunged inside it, and the witch before him. He fell forward on his hands and began pounding into her as hard as he could, the slapping of his hips against hers sharp and intense.

Hermione shrieked, getting the full power of her lover's stroke. It felt as if he was splitting her in two and she never wanted him to stop. He tore into her, taking her as hard and fast as he could. She was probably going to be in much pain when they were finished but she honestly could have cared less. Her voice was going hoarse as he thrust into her.

Her orgasm hit her quickly and rather unexpectedly, ripping from her with a scream, bursting over Marcus in a clenching gush and triggering his own release, exploding powerfully, every muscle taut, as he shot wad after wad of come into the shuddering witch beneath him.

Marcus fell on her heavily and wrapping his arms around her, riding out their passion pressed against her body until he felt himself settle again, his heart pounding against her chest and feeling hers as well, beating just as wildly as his. Her hands clung to the hard muscles of his back before she slipped her arms around him, holding him.

"Fuck," he sighed, looking down at her, her long curly hair fanned out over the pillow as she still panted up at him, her eyes heavy. She had no idea how beautiful she looked after he had just ravished her.

"Oi! Hermione!" The knock on their door sounded again and Hermione's eyes instantly widened, all effects of her orgasm disappearing into memory.

She looked at Marcus. "Blaise," she whispered harshly, trying to push on him so he would let her up but he refused to budge and instead, he glared at the door.

Blaise Zabini was Head Boy that year alongside Hermione and honestly, Marcus couldn't stand him, not that he really knew him since the git had only been a second year during Marcus' seventh year. Hermione told him that Blaise actually was a nice boy but Slytherin or no, Marcus still didn't like him. He spent far too much time with Hermione when Marcus couldn't keep an eye out on both of them.

"There's no Hermione in here so bugger off!" Marcus shouted towards the door and Hermione slapped him on the chest. He turned his head to look at her slowly, his eyes hungry and despite the rather rigorous first round, he already felt himself growing hard, still tucked away inside of her. "You know better than to hit me," he whispered to her, brushing his lips against hers. "It can lead to other things."

"The inn keeper said that she came up here!" Blaise continued with his knocking.

"Oh, bloody hell…" Marcus mumbled and Hermione almost giggled at the exasperated look on his face.

Blaise cursed swiftly at the locked door before stalking away, his heavy footsteps fading down the hallway.

So busy was he with cursing Blaise out in his head that Hermione was able to slip away from him and out of the bed without him catching her. She grabbed her wand and did a quick cleaning spell on herself and she moved to start getting herself dressed again. Her body was deliciously sore and she had to move slowly. Marcus watched her from the bed, sitting up and leaning against the headboard, his eyes fascinated with her hands as they skimmed over her body as she fashioned herself in the clothes he had ripped from her body an hour earlier.

Marcus Flint still found sometimes that it was hard to believe that he was screwing none other than Hermione Granger, Gryffindor lioness and best friend to Harry Potter. And what a screw she was. There was quite a sexually frustrated vixen underneath her brains, books and rules.

He had never really paid much attention to her except during a brief incident in her second year when Ron had started throwing up slugs because of Draco's insults to the Golden Trio and his wand had backfired. After that, he didn't give her a second glance. She was nothing to look at and she was a Gryffindor – therefore, she was horribly annoying and Marcus did not associate with her type.

Of course, she had changed so much when he saw her again as she walked into Madam Malkin's that he at first didn't recognize her. She had definitely grown up and filled out in all the right places. She was still petite sized and a little too thin for Marcus' personal tastes but Hermione Granger had become a beautiful young woman. Her buck teeth were now nonexistent and the bush she had tried to pass off as hair had calmed down considerably, now falling down her back in long, controlled thick waves. The dark rich brown color of the strands matched the shade of her eyes.

She didn't recognize him at first either and he knew that it was understandable. He was twenty-two now and had changed as well since his years at Hogwarts. He had left school, and his overbearing father, the moment he could and began pursuing a career as a dragon tamer in Romania alongside Charlie Weasley, of all people. Though he didn't love the beasts nearly as much as his red-headed coworker, Marcus came to respect them and their volatile tempers that reminded him of his own and for the first time in his life, he dedicated himself to something besides Quidditch.

The demands of his job forced him to get his body into the best shape it had ever been. He had grown a few more inches since school and now, there wasn't an ounce of fat on him. He was all hard muscle. He kept his black hair trimmed close to his head so it wouldn't get into his way when he was working and he had fixed his rather animalistic teeth a few years earlier with the help of few well-applied spells.

He recognized the look immediately Hermione Granger gave him when she entered the shop and spotted him. When their eyes locked, he knew straight away what she wanted. She wanted him.

It wasn't until one of the tailors working greeted her as Ms. Granger did Marcus finally realize who this witch was. His eyes must have looked surprised because she then smiled at him, a light blush blooming across her cheeks.

He was even more surprised when she approached him once they were both outside the shop, fitted with new robes and propositioned him.

"You want me to have sex with you?" He had asked, not fully understanding though he had been shagging women since he was a fifth year.

Hermione blushed horribly but she had forced herself to continue. "Yes. We barely know each other so it will be easier. Things won't get complicated. We will meet when we can and we will have sex. That's it. Just sex."

Marcus cocked an eyebrow up at her. "Why do you want this?"

She took a deep breath. "Because I'm curious about how sex with an actual, experienced man would be."

"And I'm experienced?" He had asked and then smirked when she threw him a look that let him know that she didn't believe for a moment that he wasn't. "So… you want a purely sexual arrangement with me because you don't even know me and you want…" He paused to look at her. She was almost an open book. He knew exactly what she wanted. "To be shagged within an inch of your life?"

She nodded her head, staring at him, her face such a bright shade of red now but she straightened her shoulders, not backing down. "Exactly."

And Marcus, like most red-blooded males, hadn't been stupid to turn down an offer when an attractive woman propositioned him. Following her request, and for his own instincts, he kept is as simple as possible. Just sex. No dating. No feelings. And sure as hell no relationships starting. Marcus had never had an honest girlfriend and he didn't see that changing anytime soon – even if the time with Hermione was most pleasurable to put it mildly.

"No kiss goodbye?" He teased as she slipped on her coat and went to the door.

She smiled. "Not on your life. I kiss you and you'll pull me right back into bed. I'll write you." She blew him a kiss and he grinned – a rarity for him – before she slipped out of their room, closing the door behind her, leaving him alone once again.

..XX..

"So what about you, Hermione? Who's taking you to the Ball?" Ron asked through a mouthful of bread, crumbs spraying out as he talked.

Hermione hadn't even been paying attention to the conversation her friends were currently engaged in, too busy writing a letter to Marcus for one of the owls to deliver to him in Romania. She tried to write him as much as she could and he tried in return to respond but he told her that he wasn't as eloquent with words as she was. Or descriptive. So her letters to him far outnumbered his letters to hers. She didn't mind though. She kept every single one he had ever scribed in a box hidden at the bottom of her trunk.

Hermione knew that Marcus loved when she sent him dirty letters and had just been in the middle of writing out in great detail the blowjob that she was going to give him upon his next visit when Ron had so rudely interrupted her.

Stopping her quill in mid-word and lifting her head, she found Harry, Ron and Ginny all staring at her rather expectedly.

"What?" She asked with a slight shake of her hand. "Ball?"

"Yes, Hermione," Ginny said with a sigh. "You know. The Ball? The one everyone has been talking about for nearly a month ever since it was announced?"

"Oh," Hermione said, glancing down at her piece of parchment.

Honestly, she hadn't thought of the Fall Ball, a Hogwarts' first, since Dumbledore had announced it. Everyone had been chattering excitedly, making plans, asking dates, but Hermione hadn't been interested in any of it. There was no one she wanted to go with and the last ball, the Yule Ball, had ended so horribly with that fight between her and Ron that she wasn't even sure she wanted to go.

She would much rather spend the evening with Marcus if he was able to get back and they could arrange a meeting.

Things were changing between them and she wondered if he was able to feel it like she could. She was becoming too attached to him. Writing him letters like he was her boyfriend instead of just her lover. Marcus never complained but still, she felt that maybe it made him uncomfortable no matter how much he told her that he liked it. She was always thinking about him or daydreaming about him and it was nearly impossible to leave him whenever they were together. She had become too attached to him – like a girlfriend would be with a boyfriend.

And Marcus Flint was not her boyfriend.

She had set the rules with him adding his own. Easy. Convenient. No complications. Sex. Just sex. Nothing more than just sex. He gave her everything she had ever wanted and he left her craving more all of the time. He was the best lover she could ever ask for. He taught her at the same time he drove her out of her mind with pleasure. He kissed her, caressed her, tasted her. Made her scream his name.

They tried dozens of positions – some that worked wonderfully and others not so much. Whenever she told him that she had read about something in one of her "sex books" as Marcus referred to them as and that she wanted to try it, Marcus never shot her down. He was more than willing, and eager, to try anything she did.

It wasn't her fault that she had stupidly fallen in love with him. It wasn't! How could she have helped herself? Who would have ever thought that Marcus Flint, of all people, would be as sweet and open as he actually was. No one would believe her if she told them but Marcus was one of the nicest men she had ever met.

Someone would wonder what she had in common with someone like him who was the very definition of brawn over brain and Hermione couldn't explain it. Though he wasn't as intelligent as her and they didn't have much in common, they always found something to talk about. Marcus was a man of few words but Hermione found out much about him just from watching.

He liked her hair and he always found a way to touch it. Tucking a loose strand behind her ear. Burying his fingers in it when he kissed her. Tugging on it and fisting it as he rode her roughly. And then, as they laid in bed, he would comb his fingers through it or smell it when he buried his nose in it as she slept.

She knew that he truly enjoyed his job. Just when she asked the simple question of how work was going for him, his eyes would spark a bit more and for once, Marcus would speak eagerly about something. Telling her about a new dragon they were trying to tame or how he had gone on a ride the day before, soaring high with the clouds above the ground below and having the wind whistle in his ears.

"You would love it, Hermione," he had said unexpectedly one afternoon as he slowly peeled clothes from her body. "You could come with me one day if you want."

Her heart had stopped momentarily in her chest at his invitation, wondering if he was sincere. She allowed herself to imagine being in Romania, riding a dragon with Marcus, him sitting behind her, his strong arms wrapped tightly and protectively around her.

She quickly recovered though, casually bringing both of them back to the silent arrangement between them. "I hate to fly," she responded. "And you are the only one I want to be riding."

He loved trying new things just like she did. They both discovered that he liked it immensely when she wore her Hogwarts skirt and nothing else. The manner in which he had fucked her that particular night with the skirt bunched around her waist still made Hermione wet if she thought about it.

He also had taken a liking to having chocolate sauce dribbled on his body so Hermione could lick it up. These times, words were never necessary. The pleasure of the things she did to him were more than apparent on his face and the way he took her when he could no longer take the torturous foreplay.

She had fallen in love with him. She, Hermione Granger, was hopelessly and irrevocably in love with Marcus Flint.

"I heard that Ernie MacMillan and Colin Creevey and both Seamus and Dean asked you," Ginny said with a slight shake of her head.

"Michael Corner, too," Harry added, pouring himself another glass of pumpkin juice from the pitcher in the center of the table.

"Honestly, 'Mione!" Ginny exclaimed. "You literally have your pick of any boy in this school. You could take your shoe off right now and throw it at some bloke and he would ask you in a heartbeat if he could take you to the Ball."

Hermione felt herself flush and she cast her eyes back down to the letter she wanted to finish. She knew that what Ginny said was the truth. Boys certainly seemed to be pay much more attention to her that year than they ever had before. As Ron had bluntly put it, Hermione had grown "hot" and the male student body at Hogwarts had sat up and taken notice.

She wasn't used to that sort of attention and besides. She only cared about holding the interest of one male and she really wanted to finish her letter to him.

"So who do you want to take to the Ball?" Ron asked her and she almost screamed, desperately wanting to wish that they would change the topic. She almost wished that they would talk about Quidditch so they would leave her alone.

"No one here," she said, straightening her back and jutting her chin out. "I'm already spoken for."

Harry and Ron glanced at one another before staring at her. They were her best friends. Surely she would have told them if she was in fact seeing someone. There were no secrets between the three of them.

"Who?" Ginny finally asked, leaning forward, anticipating the answer.

She had known it! She knew Hermione was seeing something. The head girl always seemed to have a certain glow to her and had since the beginning of that school year. Ginny had just known that a bloke had to be the cause.

Hermione's mouth opened and she almost said Marcus' name before she stopped herself. She couldn't say it. She couldn't give it away. What they had… it was a secret. An arrangement. Not a relationship. She wasn't spoken for by him. They weren't anything to each other. They were lovers. Fuck buddies. Nothing more.

"I don't do relationships. Never have, never will," Marcus always told her.

She looked at the faces of her three closest friends and wondered how they would react if she told them about her arrangement with Marcus flint.

Not well, she imagined.

She sighed softly. Everything was so messed up now. She had messed it all up. Honestly. Who developed feelings for their… fuck buddy? Hermione Granger, idiot of the year, did apparently. And what would Marcus do if he found out how she felt? Certainly, he would never want to see her again. Feelings messed everything up – especially love. And something more with her than what they already had was the last thing he wanted.

She shook her head. "No one." She stood up, gathering her things. "I need to finish my letter. Excuse me."

She left the Great Hall before they could try and get her secret from her and returned to her Head Girl bedchamber. There, she threw the letter she had been working on away and wrote a much shorter one to Marcus instead.

I can no longer see you. I have broken the rules of our arrangement and have fallen in love with you. I am very sorry. I hope you will be happy in life, Marcus.

Love Hermione

She signed the letter, blinking quickly to keep tears from forming and then, with a heavy heart, she left to the owlery in a hurry, wanting the letter to be delivered before she changed her mind.

..XX..

Marcus looked up at front entryway of the castle, not believing that he was back there. He never thought that he would return. At least, that was what he swore to himself. But then again, lately he had found himself doing things that he never thought he would do.

It had been a week since he had received that blasted scrap of parchment and it had taken him nearly that amount of time to get over his initial shock. She loved him? She never wanted to see him again? How was that logical? Most people wanted to be with the ones they loved. Leave it to Hermione Granger to complicate things – in more ways than one.

Honestly, her admitting her love for him hadn't completely shocked him though it had surprised him that she had been finally so blunt about it. He may not have been as smart as most people but they way Hermione had been looking at him lately had been different than how she used to. No woman had ever looked at him like Hermione did and he was able to guess why. She had come to care for him sometime during their arrangement and honestly, Marcus didn't know how he felt about that. He thought they had had a good thing going on – a simple, easy arrangement that brought him more and more pleasure each time they met.

Of course he cared for her. He wasn't completely heartless though those who knew he was a Slytherin would beg to argue. For as many times as he had taken Hermione, been intimate with her, and had done things to her that no one outside of their bedroom would even dream about, it was only natural, he thought, for him to come and develop some affection for her.

She was an incredible witch. Beautiful. Strong. Independent. Bloody brilliant. And she had a sex drive that sometimes even made him exhausted and that was something that Marcus had thought to be an impossibility before he met Hermione.

He knew that when he read her post, he felt as if he had been punched in the stomach. He had come to know Hermione in the months since they first began this between them and he knew that she sometimes, despite the usually logical head she had on her shoulders, tended to overreact. She said she fell in love with him so she thought that she needed to never see him again.

Marcus didn't like that one bit. He wasn't going to stop seeing her. So she had fallen in love with him. And now what? He was just going to let her push herself out of his life? He had gotten used to her? He wanted her. Craved her. Hell. He needed her. She gave him a reason to come back home instead of disappearing for the rest of his life in Romania. She made him feel good. Special. And now, she made him feel loved.

The Great Hall had been transformed into a grand ballroom with hundreds of candles floating magically suspended in the air and the popular band, Witches Brew, was playing a slow song as Marcus stood in the large entranceway, looking over the dozens of dancing bodies on the floor. All seven years of students had been permitted to attend the Fall Ball and the Great Hall was packed, making it nearly impossible for Marcus to find her.

Draco, who he still kept in contact with, had informed him of the dance that weekend but Marcus had never thought in a thousand years that he would ever actually be there. Hermione had left him no choice though. He was there for her. She better swoon, damn it, and agree to keep seeing him because he could be just as stubborn as she could be. He was not about to end anything between them.

He knew he stuck out like a sore thumb in his blue jeans, black hooded sweatshirt and black leather jacket and he felt several girls staring at him. One of them blatantly licked their lips but he ignored them all and focused on trying to find Hermione.

He could not wait until her seventh year was over and she was no longer in school. She would get her own flat and he could visit her there anytime without feeling uncomfortable or like he was some sort of pedophile for shagging a student even tough Hermione was eighteen and therefore of legal age.

By some miracle, he spotted her through the throngs of people. She was wearing a dark green strapless dress that fell down to her knees and hugged her body perfectly. He stared at her for a moment, wondering if she realized that she was wearing his favorite color and if she had done that on purpose. He liked to think that she had.

He frowned though when he saw that she was dancing with another boy, and rather closely at that. Too closely for his taste.

He stalked over towards them, pushing through the students, feeling eyes watching him but again not caring. His focus was on Hermione and only her.

Hermione felt a pair of eyes burning into her and the hairs on the back of her neck stood on edge. Spinning around, she gasped and the breath caught in her throat as she saw Marcus coming right towards her, looking none too pleased judging by the deep scowl across his face.

She turned to Colin Creevey, about to open her mouth to apologize, but Marcus grabbed her arm, firmly and yet, his fingers were surprisingly gentle. He tugged her towards him while setting his death glare fixed on Colin, who audibly gulped.

"Marcus-" Hermione began to say, putting her free hand on his chest, trying to keep him calm.

"She's spoken for," Marcus growled before sliding his hand down her arm and grasping her hand, tugging her away.

Everyone in the nearby vicinity followed the couple with their eyes as Marcus nearly dragging Hermione out of the Great Hall though she didn't seem to be fighting much.

"Is that Marcus Flint?" One student asked.

"It can't be," another argued.

"He's too handsome to be Marcus Flint."

"Why is Hermione with him?"

"What is Marcus Flint doing here?"

"Maybe he failed his NEWT exams again," someone snickered.

"Guess the Lion isn't such a princess anymore."

"Look at how jealous he is. He is definitely shagging her."

Marcus dragged her out of the Great Hall and down the hallway that led outside. He needed fresh air and he didn't want anyone to overhear what he had to say to her. Hermione followed silently behind him, which surprised him. It wasn't part of Hermione Granger's nature to just go along with something without putting up a fight. She wasn't trying to pull her hand out of his though so maybe she didn't mind being dragged off by him.

The night was cold – the first true night of the fall season and he pulled her out into the front courtyard, the heavy door swinging shut again behind them, leaving the noise and lights of the dance and of the school inside. It was almost pitch black outside but Marcus reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out his wand.

"Lumos," he muttered softly and a soft light glowed from the tip of his wand, circling them. "Here," he said, handing the wand over and she took it from him, watching as he shrugged out of his leather jacket and draped it onto her shoulders, rubbing her arms for a moment before taking the wand back. "You looked cold in that dress."

Hermione stared at him and then nodded. "Thank you," she said softly, grasping the lapels of the jacket, closing it tightly around her, basking in warmth that his body had given off. "Did you get my letter?"

"Why do you think I'm here?" He asked, watching her closely but for some reason, she refused to meet his eyes. "That was a hell of a thing to do to me. I thought that after making you scream my names so many times in the throes of passion, I earned the right to have you tell me to my face."

Hermione chewed on her lip for a moment before finally lifting her head, looking at him. She hated how handsome he looked. Why did he always have to look so damn handsome, especially when he wasn't even trying?

She sighed heavily. "It was too hard to tell you. And I wasn't even completely sure that I… that those feelings are real."

"They must be real if you can never see me again because of them," he said.

"Marcus, I was just trying to make it easier on both of us," she offered though now that he was standing in front of her, demanding an explanation, she realized just how thin the excuse actually was. She took a deep breath. "What do you want me to say? I love you."

"That'd be a start," he said, trying to stay on point even though she looked incredible standing in the haunting light of the Lumos spell.

He reached behind her head and she fell completely still as he pulled one of the bobby pins that was holding her hair up. She knew that he preferred it when her hair was down and she humored him, pulling most of the pins from her hair, tendrils cascading down her back and over her shoulders.

"Fine. I love you," she said and clasped the jacket tighter around her. "I'm sorry but I do. I have no idea when it happened and I have been trying to turn it off for quite some time now but nothing seems to work and I know that we agreed that we would keep everything between us as simple as possible but… I mucked it all up and that's why I sent you that letter. Because I know that falling in love with you is stupid and useless and-"

"How are you not breathing?" He interrupted. "Are you breathing? I have never met anyone who can talk that much and not pause at least once for a quick gulp of air."

Hermione rolled her eyes and Marcus smirked, taking a step closer to her.

"So falling in love with me is stupid and useless?" He asked.

She stared at him silently for a moment and then slowly reached one hand out, cupping his cheek, her eyes never leaving his. "It is when we made certain promises to one another and… when you have no feelings for me in return."

Marcus didn't say anything to that. Instead, he focused on her face and the hand she kept on his cheek. Her fingers were cold in the brisk night and he stepped closer to her, his hand not holding the wand sliding onto her hip. She let out a surprised gasp when he pulled on her until her body was pressed flush against his.

"I hate when you act like that little Gryffindor know-it-all," he grumbled.

Her eyes flashed and he knew that she had taken the bait.

"I am not a know-it-all. I just state facts. And everything I have said to you in the last five minutes have been solid facts and since you aren't correcting any of what I have said then-"

Marcus couldn't take it anymore. He dropped his head and pressed his lips to hers in a searing, demanding kiss; a kiss she instantly gave into, lifting her arms and sliding them around his neck, his jacket slipping off her shoulders and falling to the ground.

"And you do not get to tell me that I have no feelings for you," he nearly growling before capturing her mouth again with his, kissing her hard, as hard as he could and Hermione pressed against him, moaning softly as his lips massaged hers in a kiss that she felt on every nerve in her body.

"So you do?" She asked, sounding breathless from his kisses. "You do have feelings for me?"

He couldn't help but smirk. "I take it back. Maybe you aren't a know-it-all if you have to ask me that."

She smacked him lightly in the chest. "I love you, Marcus. Now you tell me how you feel about me since you claim you feel something."

"Is this how it's going to be from now on?" He demanded to know. "I don't want to talk about something but you force it out of me anyway?"

She laughed at that and he allowed himself to smile slightly before reaching his hand up and cupping the back of her head, bringing her in for another kiss.

"I've never been in love before, Hermione, so I don't know if I am or not." He paused and she waited patiently for him to continue. "But I do know that what I feel for you… I have never felt for another single person in my entire life. I know that… I need you. Fondness," he finally decided on.

"Fondness?"

"A deep fondness that goes beyond the sex we have together." He swallowed the sudden dryness in his throat. "A deep fondness that can definitely grow into love, whatever that is. If you have patience with me."

Hermione stared at him for a few passing moments before a faint, happy smile slowly overtook her lips and he breathed a sigh of relief. She tightened her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply, her tongue tangling with his and both drinking the other in.

She pulled back slightly, laughing as Marcus moved his mouth forward, seeking another kiss. She kept her lips away from him though for the time being.

"We need new guidelines," she decided.

"Oh really?" He smirked and she nodded.

"Rule one. From this moment on, our strings are very attached. To each other," she declared and then she allowed Marcus to kiss her again.

And what a kiss it was, causing her to forget all of the other possible rules that she could give this new twist on their relationship. Relationship. It was no longer an arrangement but a relationship now. It caused her to break out in a smile against his lips and Marcus felt it, pulling back slightly to look at her.

She couldn't help but laugh and hugged him tightly, squeezing his body to hers, not telling him what she was so happy about. She had figured out that she had loved him on her own. She would let him figure out the reason behind her happiness on his own.

END.

..XX..

A/N: A completely random one-shot and yet completely necessary for me to write. It turned me into a smiling idiot the entire time I was writing it. Obviously, this story has nothing to do with my other Marcus/Hermione one-shots and is entirely stand alone but I hope everyone enjoys it nonetheless. Please review for me and let me know what you think. As always, thanks for reading.