The Flint Grin by Lemonstar
..Marcus/Hermione.. He would usually snarl and snap like a caged lion trying to escape its prison. But the instant she was around him, that all disappeared and he would actually smile at her. The Flint grin. Who knew that she could do that to him?
They were more than used to the stares by now. It didn't matter that they had been dating exclusively for over six months. Though most knew about their relationship, it did not keep most from shooting curious glances or outright stares in their direction.
It angered him more than it ever bothered her. She was able to ignore everything and most of the time, she didn't even realize it was happening.
He knew though. He could feel their eyes on them. Did the word subtle or the phrase Mind your own damn business mean nothing to them? They saw the engagement ring on her finger, their handholding, the kisses they tried to sneak to one another when they thought no one was watching. That was one of the problems though.
Someone was always watching.
It took some getting used to. Marcus Flint and Hermione Granger.
To some still, saying those two names stringed together without adding "… killed one another" felt unnatural on their tongues. Those two names didn't belong together. They didn't belong together. He was the gruff Slytherin oaf who's brain size rivaled that of a pea and she was the Gryffindor princess, war hero and most brilliant witch from school.
There was nothing about the couple that people saw that made sense.
He was a large fellow, big and broad and muscular. He hadn't gone onto play Quidditch after Hogwarts like many had expected him to but he did work out frequently and still partook in friendly scrimmage games with his friends. He was hard and every inch intimidating with his imposing figure. He had black hair that looked as if he had never taken a comb to it and though a charm had long ago fixed his animalistic-looking teeth, he still never seemed to smile. It was more of a snarl.
She, on the other hand, was small and petite with soft womanly curves and had a smile that made anyone smile as well when being on the receiving end of it. Her hair had tamed considerably since their school days and it now hung to nearly the small of her back in thick, controlled curls – curls that he would constantly bury his hands in. She was beautiful and had more than her fair share of attention from other men – despite his extreme anger with that situation.
After work some days, they would meet one another at the Leaky Cauldron for a bit of supper, and each time, they sat in the same back booth, trying to enjoy their meal and time together privately. Watching them, people saw that she did most of the talking, which actually didn't surprise any of spectators. Hermione Granger seemed to be able to talk for hours without stopping for a breath and had the frightful intelligence to speak with authority on any subject that was breached.
Marcus would sit there, eating his food, shoveling it in, and it almost looked as if he wasn't listening but then she would say something and he would smirk and nod his head. He would say a word now and again but for the most part, Hermione talked and Marcus let her.
When they were both done eating, they wouldn't leave right away.
He would drink a glass of fire whiskey and she would either have a sip of his drin or order a butter beer for herself. They would be sitting much closer now at the table and their heads were always leaned in close together, their noses and foreheads nearly brushing together. It looked to be such an intimate private moment between the two but still, people watched, glancing at them from over their shoulders or the tops of their drinks.
His arm would slip around the back of her seat, draping there casually yet with a hint of possessiveness to it, or his hand would disappear underneath the table and rest on her knee or thigh. She would rest a hand on the back of his head, scratching her fingers back and forth soothingly through the short hairs there and more than once, her actions would make Marcus close his eyes as if he was being lulled to sleep.
She would say something that made him scowl at her for teasing him and then she would kiss him gently on the lips until his face relaxed again and all was forgotten. It seemed that she teased him a lot. She was probably the only person in the world with enough courage to make fun of Marcus Flint. If anyone else dared try it, they would get a fist in their jaw but Hermione wasn't like anyone else. Not to Marcus.
It was as if she was the only person he truly tolerated. He put up with his friends and her friends but it almost looked as if his patience was hanging on by a thread whenever he was around them. He could only put up with them for so long before he couldn't anymore and he had to leave. He would usually snarl and snap like a caged lion trying to escape its prison but the instant she was around him, her hand in his or her body pressed to his as she slipped her arms around him and hugged him, that all disappeared and he would actually smile. At her and only her.
The Flint grin.
That was what people called it.
Seeing such a sight on a person like Marcus Flint was like seeing two suns in the sky. It did not happen.
It was rare, indeed, and yet, Hermione seemed to bring one out of him without any problems whatsoever. She would stand on her tip toes and whisper something in his ear and then, there it was. A grin, slowly spreading across his mouth, and she would beam happily up at him as if he had just told her that the stars outside at night had been hung in the sky by him especially for her.
When they were in Diagon Alley, shopping for one thing or another, Hermione would usually always drag him into a bookstore and they wouldn't emerge for at least an hour, a bag in her hand with no less than three books in it. He would then drag her in the direction of the Quidditch shop and though she protested, he would only throw her that Flint grin at her and she would roll her eyes and follow him.
His best friend, Adrian Pucey, was a notorious flirt and no girl was off limits in his opinion – not even Hermione even though she was Marcus' fiancée. Marcus had nearly punched him more times than anyone could count but Hermione always put a stop to it, ebbing his anger by whispering something in his ear – a sexual suggestive no doubt though people didn't want to think about it – and the Flint grin would appear.
People may not have understood the first thing about them – no matter how often they stared at them, no matter how hard they tried to understand – but one thing was rather obvious whenever the couple was seen together.
They loved each other like mad.
And any bloke that could have a grin like the Flint grin, maybe he wasn't as bad as everyone thought him to be. After all, he had won Hermione Granger and that was something no one else could ever say.
A/N: Something so completely pointless and yet, I couldn't stop smiling as I wrote this. I love Marcus/Hermione and I hope at least a few of you enjoy this little one-shot, no matter how little purpose it serves. Reviews are very much appreciated. Thank you!