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Her eyes were closed as she inhaled the comforting aroma of orange, cinnamon, and pine. The familiar scents of Christmas brought forth a smile and caused Hermione to ease against the dark paneling of the wall, then slide down to sit on the cold black tiled floor. She had abandoned her heels the moment she was out of sight from the Christmas party and made her way to the entrance to her secret place on her bare red-toed feet.
She discovered her hidden place five years before during her first Ministry Christmas party. After all the unnecessary praise, curious questions, and mentions of single children to her and her best friends, Hermione ended up exhausted both mentally and physically. After making a few excuses she found herself wondering about the Ministry and just a bit of time later she stumbled across a very odd statue of a wild pig. Her thirst for knowledge made her look more closely hoping to find a plate or inscription of what exactly she was looking at, but instead, she ended up behind the thing and found the abandoned corridor she now deemed her own. She loved the windows depicting scenes of snowy mountain tops, framed by her favorite stringed fairy lights. The sight always calmed her nerves and welcomed her back during every event the Ministry insisted on having.
Hermione quietly hummed, even though the corridor was empty, to the recognizable tune that played in the Atrium—a tune filled with the background chorus of champagne glasses toasting and people laughing. Her brain conjured up memories of past Christmases and though not all of them had been merry, she felt that time had finally made the good outweigh the bad. Surprisingly some of her best memories were made at the exact spot she sat now.
“Do you plan to hide all night?”
Hermione yelped with surprise, pointing her wand towards the intruder who interrupted her journey into the past. She knew he would make his way down here at some point, well, at least she had hoped he would.
“Evening to you too, Hermione,” Marcus said looking at the wand pointing at him.
“Marcus,” Hermione huffed, pushing her wand back into her sleeve. “You startled me for fuck’s sake.”
He had retired from Quidditch two years ago and immediately ended up at the Ministry within the Department of Magical Games and Sports. A life choice he never would have made but after too many injuries and boredom at his ancestral home, he decided, why not?
He noticed Hermione within minutes of stepping out of the Artium fireplace his first day, almost running into her as she spoke to his new colleague who was waiting for his arrival. Her eyes only met him momentarily and then she walked away after a quick “Good morning” and “Good-bye.” Besides the occasional quick hellos or good mornings, it took him months to have a conversation with her, let alone speak to her.
It was his first Christmas party at the Ministry. His date ended up being a bore due to her conversations regarding the latest “it” couples and the parties she wanted to attend. The time spent around her started to grate on his nerves and he had to excuse himself to the toilets just to have some time away. A trip to the restroom became a walk around an almost empty building then feelings of guilt for leaving his date behind started to pester him, though he was positive she couldn’t care less. Deciding he wouldn’t be that person, he made his way in the right direction only to halt his steps after hearing an odd noise. His curiosity got the better of him and he followed the sound when he heard it yet again.
His short exploration led him to an area he didn’t recognize, but the appearance of a statue sculpted to look like a pig caught his attention. Not to mention the sound of a grumble that could be heard behind it. He quickly registered there was an entrance and made his way down the corridor only to notice her sitting on the floor. Her back was pressed against the wall and the smile on her face was serene and beautiful. Then, the noise appeared again and he watched as Hermione placed her hand over her stomach. He wanted to laugh that the unknown sound he heard was that of her stomach, but held back the temptation so as not to disturb her. He continued to watch as she pulled out a peppermint from her purse, sighing when the sweet met her tongue. Watching her satisfaction gave him an idea that would finally allow him to approach her.
Making his way back to the party he grabbed a plate and filled it with an assortment of sausage rolls, bits of things on crackers, and tiny eclairs decorated in gold. He knew she liked sausage rolls since he had witnessed her many times walking and eating at the same time. As for everything else, he figured he’d find out soon enough.
When he returned to the statue he made his way to her and as the saying goes - the rest was history. Hermione Granger and Marcus Flint became friends that night, a privilege that morphed into workday lunches, pubs on weekends, and additional friends Marcus would have never considered, including the savior of the wizarding world and his funny, but sometimes annoying Weasley companion.
“Language, young lady,” Marcus said as he approached. Hermione rolled her eyes. “Besides, were you expecting someone else?” he asked, raising a dark eyebrow to emphasize his smart remark.
“Of course not,” she smiled, “tradition is tradition.”
“Ah, so this is a tradition now? You sure you want to keep doing this?”
“You mean sneaking away to a dark place that no one knows about and stuffing our faces with obscene amounts of food? I think so.” Marcus laughed with a nod of agreement.
“For madam,” he said, in a French accent as he bowed to her while presenting a plate with an abundance of mouth-watering tidbits of holiday party staples. Uniformed canapés with an assortment of toppings, varieties of cheese both hard and soft, mini sausage rolls, olives, orange slices, grapes, and last, but never in a million years least, the tiny eclairs covered in gold-dusted dark chocolate. Hermione gasped with fictitious surprise as Marcus sat down next to her placing their Christmas party feast between them.
She turned her head to look at her friend, watching as he tried to make his large form comfortable on the floor. “Perhaps I should transfigure some chairs and a table.”
“Not necessary. Sitting on the floor is the best part. It enhances the-” Marcus looked around as though trying to pull the word from the air. “Mood?”
“Well, we can at least use a blanket. I’m sure that won’t damper the… mood .” Marcus watched as Hermione opened her purse, pushing her entire arm into the small jeweled bag. He couldn’t explain why, but this was a small instance of why he was completely in awe of the witch. Smart, resourceful, a little rude when she needed to be, and without a doubt beautiful.
“For someone who is now part of the DMLE, you seem to not have a problem breaking the law. Have you received Ministry approval for that Undetectable Extension Charm, Ms. Granger?”
“Shut up Marcus and help me with this,” she replied, smiling sweetly at him while gesturing for him to get up. He stood up with a huff, taking the blanket Hermione had in her hand.
“Oh, wait. I’ve got an idea,” remarked Marcus proudly. “I’ve been working on this for a while. I think I’ve mastered it.”
Hermione watched as Marcus pointed his wand to one of the charmed windows. He moved his hand steadily across it causing the fairy lights to disappear and the window frame to shorten and then expand. Suddenly the winter wonderland scene morphed into a fireplace adored by sparkling holly-filled greenery and a roaring fire to complete the picturesque achievement.
“It’s perfect, Marcus. Well done you,” she said with enthusiasm.
“Impressed are we?”
“Very,” she laughed, helping Marcus to lay down the blanket near the hearth, then arranging the plate of food and herself on the thick wool. She exhaled loudly when she got comfortable and did nothing to hide her yawn.
“Knackered already?”
“Not just yet,” she answered with another yawn.
“Bored of me already then?”
“Never,” she smiled.
Her comment stirred something in him. An intoxicating feeling started to creep throughout his body.
“Good. I’ll assume the party took a lot out of you.” Hermione nodded her head in agreement.
“The moment I arrived I felt like I was tossed from one group to another. I made sure to say all my hellos, smile, nod, or laugh at every appropriate queue. I tried to get away on numerous occasions only to be stopped by another jovial group who wanted to talk and enticed me with another offering of champagne. Which, I have to say, is surprisingly delicious this year.”
“How’s it feel being a celebrity?” Hermione rolled her eyes causing Marcus to chuckle.
“Cauldron calling the kettle black. We can’t go anywhere without someone coming up to you to discuss Quidditch rankings, some rule they want you to get rid of, or what you did back in 1995. Not to mention the slags.”
“Language, Hermione.” She rolled her eyes again but managed a smile. She loved how comfortable they had become with each other. He had become one of her best friends. He never made fun of her, listened to her when she vented, and most of all stood up to her when she needed it the most. The look he was giving her with his dark eyes and smirk did something to her stomach. He was so kind to her and had a way of cheering her up and building her up. Hermione recalled when he once brought her not one or two, but a case of Red Anjou Pears because they reminded him of her favorite jumper. She couldn’t even count how many times he would walk into her office with a “ this reminded me of you ” placing a random object on her desk.
Hermione swallowed. It’s not like the realization was a surprise to her, she knew. She was attracted to him when he first found her here, after the second she fancied him, but now? Now, she was in love with him. But the fear of confessing anything would ruin their friendship. Yes, she was still friends with Ron after their failed attempt, but she was also eighteen and their experiences together still kept the foundation strong. This was different.
“Eh, you alright?” Hermione quickly decided that she would worry about this later, perhaps in the New Year. Right now, she would focus on spending time with her friend. She had planned to stay with her parents over Christmas and the New Year so she wanted to make the best of the time she had with Marcus. Confusing one's love was off the table for now.
“Yes,” she smiled. “Hungry.” Hermione grabbed a sausage roll while Marcus went for the eclair, silence excluding muffed music and chewing echoed through the corridor.
“Oh!” shouted Marcus, startling Hermione mid-swallow and causing her to cough to prevent a piece of cheese from lodging in her throat. “Sorry.” She waved her hand for him to continue.
Marcus opened his dress robes, pulling out a wine bottle that was void of any markings. “I remember you mentioned a tradition you have with your parents. You mentioned your mum would buy her favorite mulled wine and on Christmas Eve you all would gather around the fireplace and play Muggle games.”
Marcus stared at the witch in front of him. Her mouth was slack and sort of hanging open. He wasn’t quite sure of her expression so he continued to explain. “You told me that they no longer made that wine. I went to different shops around England and they confirmed it was true!” He noticed her face hadn’t changed. “Well anyway, I managed to buy others from different makers, turns out most I tried were shite. I think it was the spices they used or maybe the lack of Brandy. That’s beside the point, I almost gave up you see, but then, I thought of you.” The remark managed to wake her from her daze.
“Thought of me?” she asked.
“Yeah, when in doubt. I went into the Flint library and found my grandmother’s old recipe books. And you know what?” Hermione shook her head.
“I found an old recipe which also turned out to be shite, but after a few failed batches I found the one that worked!” Marcus placed the bottle between them. “Turns out I was right. Spice control, a decent red, and quality Brandy turn out the top flavor. All you have to do is reheat it on the stove just for a little while then add some oranges, maybe a few cranberries to make it festive and all.”
“Oh! Marcus!,” she huffed, looking at her friend and standing to pace in front of the fireplace. Bafflement washed over Marcus’s face as he could only make out a few of the words he could hear. “Next year…this is happening…fuck…fuck…fuck it.”
“Did I do something wrong?”
“No, no! Of course not. You…you did and do everything right.” Marcus stood up and went over to Hermione.
“What’s wrong?”
“Can you answer a question for me?”
“Does it involve Arithmancy?”
“Uh, no.”
“Ancient Runes.”
“No.”
“History of Magic.”
“No! For fuck’s sake Marcus, it includes nothing you should have learned in Hogwarts!”
“Alright, alright. I’m just having a laugh,” he grinned. “Come here.” Hermione came closer to him and was captured inside his large arms. It was warm, comforting, and dizzying all at the same time. She didn’t want it to end.
“Come on, let’s have a drink and finish eating.” Marcus went back to the blanket and transfigured two forks into mugs. He poured the dark liquid into each cup and then waved his wand over the brew to heat its contents. Hermione made her way toward him sitting closer than before, accepting her drink right as he plopped an orange slice into each of them.
She swallowed the liquid letting the comforting flavors warm her body and her spirits. She thought of how grateful she was for her life, how much she loved her parents and her friends. Whether it was a pint with Harry and Ron or watching old movies with her parents, there was something beautiful about it all. Hermione looked at her other friend, the one who she knew would find her during every Christmas party. The one who found her every time she had a bad day at work.
“Marcus?” Hermione looked at her friend, noticing how he too was relaxed in his posture. His eyes were dark and glowing from the fire.
“Hmm, sorry,” he shook his head. “Your question.”
“ Why have you never told me you fancy me?” Marcus’s eyes met hers. He was expressionless.
“Because I don’t fancy you, Hermione.” The taste of mulled wine soured in her mouth. She was confident his treatment was more than a mere friend. Merlin! Did she misread him?
“I love you. I’ve been in love with you for years now.” The heat from his hand melted into her cheek as he softly pushed away a tendril of her hair. Hermione didn’t want to wait a moment. Her lips meet his, a gentle kiss that swiftly turned into years of want and need. They breathed each other in, tasting each other’s mouths that were heavily spiked with the taste of Christmas.
Time passed, forcing them to pull apart, but only so slightly.
“We should probably go now, huh?” asked Marcus, grazing his hand down her back. Hermione nodded her head and then kissed him again before she stood. With a flick of their wands, the corridor again was dimmed and her winter wonderland once again appeared as Marcus removed his charm. They both made it out of the entrance, then took a turn patting the boar statue as a thank you for keeping their secret. They walked hand in hand through the Atrium which was now empty but still glowed with the exquisite array of Christmas trees that aligned each fireplace.
“Would you like to come back to the manor?”
“I can’t. I’m leaving to see my parents in the morning. I’m planning on driving and it will take me a few hours to get there,” she frowned.
“No, I understand. Can you handle not seeing me for two weeks?”
“I think I can handle it, just fine.” she laughed, giving him a bright smile. Marcus didn’t resist pulling her closer by her coat lapels and kissing her again softly on her lips. He felt as though he could kiss her forever, but the night was no longer young.
“You didn’t ask if I can handle not being without you,” he said.
“I do not doubt that you’ll manage.” She forced herself to pull away and then grabbed a handful of floo powder. Marcus mirroring the same actions next to her.
As she raised her hand to spill the powder she stopped herself, then tilted her head out of the fireplace. “Marcus!”
“Yes!” His head appeared, sticking out of the neighboring fireplace with a look of anticipation.
“ Can you answer a question for me?”
“Anything,” he grinned.
“Ever been on a road trip?”