Hermione felt her heart stutter and butterflies whirl about her stomach as Marcus turned around. Six years ago if someone had told her Marcus Flint was fit she would have laughed her head off. But separate the eyebrows, straighten the teeth, mix in broad shoulders, and a muscled physique and the man was a demigod. Once his eyes found her, he paused, staring, his mouth hanging slightly open. She fought not to blush as his eyes roamed over her figure taking her appearance in. The dress clung tight in the right places and flared out leaving others to the imagination. It was by far the most form-fitting thing anyone in the wizarding world had seen her in. Completely ignoring Rabastan, Marcus strode forward, taking Hermione's hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it. "You look breathtaking." He handed her a white rose tied with a silver ribbon.