 the dress shop

Harry and Hermione had been rampaging through the boutiques of Galleon Plaza for six hours. So far, Hermione hadn't found one thing to her liking.

"Hermione, I still don't understand why you're flouncing around like a wonky elf through all of these shops. What is so important that you need a dress for it?"

It was the seventeenth time Harry had asked that question during their outing. Hermione knew that she would have to tell him sometime, but it made her feel so incompetent as a wife.

"It's Ron, Harry. Our anniversary is in two days. For the last four months, it seems I'm not even on his priority list anymore. He always has to work late, or play poker with his chums, or do something out of the house without me! He doesn't even look at me anymore. He doesn't eat my cooking. I'm…I'm not even sure that he still loves me!"

"Hermione, even I wouldn't eat your cooking."

Harry had not prepared himself for the steely glare he received from his favorite witch.

"Now, come on, you know I'm kidding. But just because he's out a bit and not always hungry doesn't mean that he doesn't love you."

"Harry…I think there's someone else. Now, I have to do this!"

She ripped through another rack of clothes and settled upon a darling ochre-hued sundress.

"What about this one?"

Harry s ed at the sight of Hermione with this skimpy dress before her.

"'Mione…there's hardly any dress to it!"

Hermione let out a frustrated growl and sunk her nails into Harry's arm. This was the fifth time she had moved him forcefully from shop to shop. There were now sets of crescent moons permanently marring his tan leather jacket. As Hermione dragged him across the cobblestones, Harry gazed at the quickly fading display windows of passing shops. Hermione began to speak to him without looking in his direction, a look of soulless anger daring passersby to get in her way.

"Harry…the only reason I took you on this shopping trip with me is because of your sexual orientation and, because of it, you're supposed to have an amazing sense of fashion. You haven't like one dress I've tried on all day!"

"Well, Hermione, that's because I am gay and I do have an amazing sense of fashion!"
Even Harry was alarmed by the loudness of his voice. Hermione stopped in her tracks and turned to face him, her eyes glazing over with tears.

"Harry, do try to work with my options here. I'm in Galleon Plaza and I have to go to the discount and thrift shops because I simply can't afford some of these gowns on a schoolteacher's pay. Meanwhile, I'm afraid that I'm going to lose my husband and I'm losing all focus because of that. Oh, Harry…what do I do!"

Harry looked into her blinking eyes, watching the tears fall down her face. He pulled her close to him in a tight hug and whispered,

"It'll be all right, Hermione…in fact, I've got an idea. Are you ready to Apparate?"

Before Hermione could respond Harry closed his eyes tightly and pictured his destination.

…

Harry and Hermione were now standing in a cobweb-filled attic. As the two settled in to their new environment, Hermione began to choke on the dust and musky scent that floated in permanent cloud around their heads.

"Where are we, Harry?"

"My attic, Hermione."

"Your attic! I'm going to lose the love of my life and you decide to take me on a tour of your bloody attic! And I'm the wonky elf!"

"Hear me out, now. Somewhere up here, I have a horde of dresses that my mother left to my sister, Calandra."

"You have a sister?"

"She died thirteen years ago, in our second year at Hogwarts. She was twenty-nine. I never met her. She survived the…incident because she lived with my grandmother from a young age. You see, she had a sickness and she needed 24-hour care. What with my father and mother juggling working at the Ministry and raising me, the means to help her just weren't available with us. We had the money…just not the time, or even the proper environment. I never met her. Mum felt she had to leave her something as a reminder of her love, but my grandparents had died when I was 10 and Calandra simply disappeared off the face off the earth. I've come up here before just to look at the dresses…they're a sort of link to Mum and Calandra for me. They're beautiful, all of them."

"Oh…I'm so sorry, Harry. I couldn't possibly take one then. There's far too much sentimental val— "

"I insist…follow me."

Harry took Hermione's hand and led her across the attic of his home. They came to an ornately carved door, with images of dragons and wizards, both taming, fighting, and riding them. Harry took out his wand and pointed it at the red crystal knob that stood in the center of the decorations.

"Apertum arcanus…"

Slowly but surely, the knob began to turn clockwise. As it did so, sections of the door evaporated into thin air until only the knob was left. As it disappeared, he turned to Hermione and whispered,

"Secret access spell…don't tell anyone."

Hermione nodded dumbly as her eyes adjusted to the bright lavender light in the room, which Harry explained "kept the dresses from fading". She walked down row after row of evening gowns, sundresses, cocktail dresses, power suits, blouse and skirt combinations…it was heaven for dresses. Hermione felt another one of those moments where one realized the true power of magic (being able to fit all of these dresses in one small section of a tiny attic) and the true power of man (being able to design and cut and stitch these wondrous works of art). She suddenly heard Harry's voice, telling her to go to the blue spark. She looked up toward the high ceiling and saw a cerulean point of light, beckoning her to its source. She finally found the correct aisle in this emporium of dreams and walked towards Harry. He was standing before a dress and staring at it with a wide smile growing across his face. He pointed his wand at the dress and then at Hermione. In an instant, her clothes were upon the dressmaker's mannequin and one of Lily Potter's dresses was caressing her skin. The dress was sea-foam green and made with the lightest of all silks. It sat upon Hermione perfectly and accentuated everything about her. A large chiffon rose on one shoulder drew the focal point to her face, showing off her radiant beauty. A diagonal bottom cut displayed her long, luscious legs. The curves of the midriff perfectly matched Hermione's curves. It seemed as though the dress was a second skin for her. Beaming with joy, she looked up at Harry.

"Well?"

"Let's just say this. I'm gay…and even I want to ravish you, here and now."

Hermione's eyes began to water with joy and she grabbed Harry, pulling him closer to her in a heartfelt embrace.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

If this didn't win Ron's attention and affections back, she didn't know what would.