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By the time the dust had settled; it took Hermione weeks to make her way to the cottage. One glance at the front door told her Marcus had been waiting. Not so patiently if the front garden was anything to go by. He’d completely redone the garden, now before where there had been shrubs, there where flowers. Hundreds of flowers had taken over the front yard.
If it kept him busy, and his mind off everything that had happened, Hermione was glad for it. She knew Marcus had borne the brunt of the war. A double agent through and through. Even if she’d been the one by Harry’s side when Lord Voldemort fell.
Stepping inside proved her point further. Marcus had spent the weeks since the war ended redoing what had once been their safe house. Their safe haven. Their piece of mind during the wretchedness that was war. The curtains had been changed, the furniture rearranged and the whole place had a lighter feel than it did when it had been their hideaway from the war.
When arms locked around her from behind, resting around her stomach, Hermione practically melted into his hold
“It’s over.” His words were soft as he burrowed into her neck, pressing a kiss into the join of her shoulder and her neck.
“It is. We survived.” They’d done more than survive, they’d thrived in taking down The Dark Lord and his horde of minions. Enough so, that Hermione could feel herself floundering now that the grande finale had finally come.
“What do we do from here?” Marcus chuckled as he ran a finger up her neck, pressing another kiss to it before sighing in completion. For once, he felt whole. Like his whole world hadn’t been ripped from him.
“Whatever we want. That’s the beauty of it. We have time to figure it out. For now however…you’re mine. At least for a little while; I just want to be here with you for a little while.” Marcus still had to clear his name, and that wasn’t going to be an easy feat. Hermione was the only one who knew he’d become a Death Eater solely to turn double agent.
It would be her word against theirs.
Hermione knew her word would be strong, but would it be good enough? The fact his handler was his fiancee wouldn’t hold up well in court, all things considered.
For now, however, they had time.
****
As his hands roamed the plains of her body, worshiping her scarred skin and thin frame, his heart broke for her. She’d been through hell and back to see this war ended.
Marcus silently vowed he was going to spend the rest of his life making it up to her.
The Wizarding World would never understand what she’d done for them. Marcus doubted that Hermione and her friends would tell the Wizagmont the whole truth. The truth was too dangerous; least another Dark Lord try to rise once more.
No. They would keep that to themselves.
Carry it to their graves and bury it with their derclit bodies.
The Wizarding World had no idea the debt they owed to the Golden Trio. They would never receive the tru alcodes they deserved.
But here, alone in this cottage, Marcus could let her know in his own way how grateful he was for what they’d done for not just him, but the entire Wizarding World.
Hermione rolled off him only to burrow herself into his side. Chuckling, Marcus squeezed her tight as she tried to practically mold herself to his frame.
“I’m here, love.” His voice was soft as he pressed a kiss to her hair. They’d done it, they’d survived the impossible.
Now all that was left was to get on with the rest of their lives.
Footsteps told Marcus that Hermione was finally awake. When she slid into his lap, he wrapped his arms around her as they started out at the ocean beyond the front porch.
“I know we talked about getting away. About getting out of England for a bit, but I’d be happy to stay right here.” Her voice was firm but soft and Marcus could understand why.
“This place does hold some interesting memories.” Marcus watched as the blush worked its way up Hermione’s neck. Chuckling he pulled her into a kiss with a smirk clearly written across his face.
“That’s not what I meant and you know it!” Hermione laughed, even as Marcus pressed a kiss to her neck before sighing and relaxing back into the chair.
“I know what you meant, love. It's not my fault you blush so easily.” He chuckled again before silence fell. Watching the sunset was something they hadn’t had the pleasure of seeing together since the war started.
As the sun began its descent, Marcus nudged Hermione gently, and when she turned to face him she gasped at the sight before her. A ring box, opened and turned towards her, sat perched on the arm of the chair they were curled up in.
“Don’t act so surprised. You had to have known that was where this was headed.” Even as he laughed at her shock, he could see the love that shone in her eyes. “After everything we’ve been through, I think it’s about time we made it official. The thought of you with my last name…” Marcus trailed off as Hermione began to wipe at the stray tears that fell from her eyes. “So, Hermione Granger, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
Words failed her as tears started to fall in earnest. Hermione had lived so long in the moment, just trying to get by, that she hadn’t thought ahead to after the war. The thought had never crossed her mind, so focused on ending the war as she was.
“Marcus…..” Words failed her, but when she pulled him into a searing kiss, Marcus knew he had his answer.
Them against the world. The way it’d been for the past ten years.
The way it would always be.