Disclaimer: It all belongs to JK Rowling, except the bits you don't recognise, which are probably mine.
Chapter Four: Progress
At exactly six o'clock there was a pop and Hermione appeared in Harry's living room.
"Hey, Harry!" she said as the two friends shared a hug, "So what's the big mystery?"
Hermione sat down on the sofa and Harry on a chair opposite.
"I've got a problem, and I need your help to fix it", he said.
"I'll help any way I can. You know that." replied Hermione, looking puzzled.
"It's not that simple. You see..."
Harry was interrupted by a second, rather louder, pop and Ron appeared at the flat's apparition point. His eyes widened as soon as he caught sight of his girlfriend.
"I didn't realise you were going to be here too."
"That, my friends," said Harry, "was the whole idea. I'm really sorry about this, but..."
Harry cast two body-binds in quick succession, followed by two disarming jinxes. He caught both his friends' wands, then ran to grab Ron before his immobile form fell to the floor. Dragging him over to the sofa, Harry propped him up on the cushions then sat down on a footstool and faced his two frozen yet clearly furious friends.
"I'm really, really sorry to do it this way but it's..." Harry glanced at his watch, "Five past six, I have a date at six-thirty, and any conversation we're likely to have at this point is going to take way, way longer than twenty five minutes."
Harry took his glasses off with one hand while sighing deeply and rubbing his eyes with his other hand. He looked back up at his two immobile friends and replaced his glasses, then ran both hands through his hair.
"You two are my best friends. You both know that but I have to say it now anyway. We've been through more in ten years than most people go through in a lifetime, and the reason I'm doing this now and taking the risk that I might piss both of you off to the point where you tell me to fuck off for good is that I love you."
Harry dropped his head and ran both hands through his hair again.
"Whenever I've needed a shoulder to cry on, someone to drink with, someone to tell me I'm an idiot, someone to work with or just someone to be in the same damn room with, you two are the ones who've been there."
He looked up, first at Hermione then at Ron.
"Now, the pair of you are coming this close" - Harry held up two fingers half a centimetre apart - "to fucking it all up."
Harry took a couple of deep breaths to calm himself.
"For eighteen months it's been the same thing from both of you, time after time. 'He doesn't understand me'; 'She doesn't understand me', and it's been me in the middle. That's FINE. I'm your friend and I want to help, but I ran out of stuff to suggest six months ago and I'm still hearing the same damn arguments."
Harry stood and walked over to his coat-rack. After looking over his available options for a moment, he picked a dark brown leather jacket that would go well with his blue jeans and grey shirt. He checked his appearance in the mirror next to the door then walked back towards his two reluctant guests.
"So I'm going for 'kill-or-cure' tonight. The wards on this flat..." he pointed his wand at what appeared to be a minimalist granite block in one corner, and concentrated for a moment, "are now keyed to me alone, so don't try apparating away. The windows are all locked, both magically and muggle-wise, and they can't be broken. The door..." Harry paused with a thoughtful look on his face, then shrugged and waved his wand. The flat's front door faded into the wall, "The front door doesn't exist any more. There are..." he waved his wand a few more times, "silencing charms on the floor, ceiling and walls, so don't bother trying to make a noise to attract attention."
Harry looked around the room, wondering if there was anything he had forgotten. His eyes fell on his owl Watson's cage in the corner of the room, and he waved his wand once more.
"And finally, no owls can reach you or be sent from you."
He sat on the footstool again and looked at his friends.
"I won't be back before midnight. Even if Claire throws her wine in my face and walks out I'll hang around in a bar somewhere before coming back here. That means you've got at least five hours to sort this shit out. Or at least, make a good start towards sorting this shit out."
He sighed again.
"Don't hate me for this, please."
Harry stood and walked over towards Hermione. He knelt down by her petrified form and put an arm around her, then pointed towards Ron.
"Hermione, that's Ronald Weasley. We both know he isn't the sharpest knife in the drawer, but you think he's funny, you also think he's... what was it, 'a bit of a hunk?' and when he remembers to do something romantic it makes you want to scream and sob with joy.
Harry stood again, walked to Ron's end of the sofa and sat on the armrest. He put one hand on Ron's shoulder and used his other hand to point at Hermione.
"You see her, Ron? That's Hermione Granger. You can't believe she's interested in you because she's so clever she could do anything she wants. Whenever you see her tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear you want to kiss her senseless, and you can never sleep properly unless she's in your arms. She wants to have your kids, mate."
He stood again and looked at his friends.
"So tonight, say it to each other instead of me. If you decide to make up, the guest bedroom has fresh linen..." - his friends both demonstrated that a full-body bind didn't stop the blush reflex. "If not... well there's food in the kitchen, films by the TV, and in my office you'll find books, ingredients and other materials in case you want to plot a revenge."
Harry walked back to the mirror near the blank space where his door usually stood and took one final look. Satisfied, he turned back towards Ron and Hermione.
"If we do meet again, why, we shall smile. If not, why then this parting was well made", he said, before turning on the spot and vanishing.
Ron folded on to the sofa as the body bind disappeared.
"What did he mean by that?", he asked.
"It's Shakespeare. It... I think he's saying it'll be goodbye unless we sort this out." replied Hermione.
Ron stood to try apparating but only managed to spin in place before collapsing in a heap on the sofa.
"Well his wards work perfectly." He looked his girlfriend in the eye. "So let's talk".
.oOo.
Claire had persuaded Harry that their second date should be somewhere a little cheaper than their first, so they had agreed to go to the Pizza Express on the Strand. Harry apparated into an alley nearby and made his may around to the front to wait for her. He found his mind wandering to the decision he was going to have to make. At some point he was going to have to tell Claire the truth about himself, and he wasn't looking forward the that moment. He'd been an eleven-year-old kid when he'd heard about magic and at that age you're ready to believe just about anything. Claire was 21, far more cynical, and had spent her whole life learning that magic only happens in books and Saturday night TV shows featuring toupee-wearing entertainers with glamorous assistants.
Further rumination was curtailed by the arrival of his date. Harry felt the same swooping sensation that he'd felt the first time he saw her. Something about her just clicked with him. She'd dressed as simply as he had: white T-shirt, blue jeans and white trainers; there was nothing to differentiate her clothes from the ones being worn by dozens of other young women within a stone's throw, but somehow Harry felt she simply looked better than they did.
"Hi Harry!" she greeted him as soon she got close, "Sorry to keep you waiting".
"I was early. And I've only been here a couple of minutes." replied Harry, and couldn't stop himself adding "You look lovely."
Claire blushed, smiled and looked down shyly for a moment. "You look nice too." she said at last, and it was Harry's turn to smile.
They looked at each other for a moment and Harry fought back an impulse to kiss his date. Instead, he turned slightly towards the restaurant and gestured with an arm. "Shall we?"
The pair entered the restaurant and were soon seated.
"I'm paying tonight", said Claire. "No arguments".
"Let me get the wine though. Remember what I said yesterday", replied Harry.
Claire thought for a moment. "Okay. I suppose that's fair enough. I have to admit I really enjoyed drinking good wine for a change."
"They won't have anything quite that good, but let's see."
Harry looked at the wine list for a moment before ordering a bottle of the Barbera.
"So your friends decided you didn't need an escort tonight?", he teased.
"They liked you", replied Claire. "Jill actually told me that if I decided I wasn't interested, I should give you her number."
"I thought she was ogling me a bit", laughed Harry.
"Would you be interested in her?"
"She seemed nice, but my attention was elsewhere yesterday", said Harry with a smile.
Claire smiled back, and Harry's stomach launched another flock of butterflies.
The waitress returned to their table, and the pair made their order.
.oOo.
Later in the evening, the pair found themselves once again walking slowly along The Strand chatting about nothing in particular. After a while Harry noticed that Claire was starting to rub her arms to ward off a slight chill in the air.
"Are you cold?" he asked.
"It's getting a bit chilly", replied Claire.
Harry thought for a moment. The obvious solution was to give Claire his coat, but there was another option. He moved closer and put an arm around Claire, pulling her closer to him.
"How about this", he said. "If you still feel cold I'll give you my coat."
Claire slid one arm under his coat and around his back. "That's much better".
Harry couldn't see her face, but he could tell by her voice that she was smiling.
"Oof. Your arm is really cold."
"And you're nice and warm!"
"Well they say opposites attract!", laughed Harry.
Claire was quiet for a few moments, then stopped walking. She pulled her arm out from under Harry's coat and turned to look at him.
"I know it's soon but... I really like you and... It just feels... I understand if you don't..."
Harry smiled, "It's usually best if you finish one sentence before beginning another.", he teased.
Claire stared at her shoes, a blush rising to cover her whole face. "I guess it is", she mumbled, then suddenly looked up and stared Harry in the eyes. "Can I spend the night with you?"
Harry's mind sped to the secret he was keeping from her. He knew he couldn't take things any further without telling Claire everything. He also knew this wasn't the time. It was late and he needed to put his plan into effect earlier in the day.
The look on Claire's face stirred something within him. It was a mixture of hope, fear, desire, defiance... it seemed incredible to Harry that a human face could convey so much information. Without even realising what he was doing, he moved forward and kissed Claire on the lips. They were warm and soft, and Harry couldn't remember the last time he'd felt something so good. After a moment, Claire's arms went around his neck and pulled him closer; Harry slid his arms up her back and did the same. Both young people lost track of the time as they stood locked in each others' arms. Sometimes their kiss was soft and delicate, sometimes it was more urgent and needy, but they seemed to know instinctively what the other wanted. After several minutes they began to became aware of their surroundings once more; of the people passing by, cars in the street and the gathering chill of night. Harry pulled away and looked his date in the eyes.
"That was incredible." he whispered.
"Yeah. It was", replied Claire.
"I would really, really like to say yes," began Harry, "but there are people... staying there at the moment. Plus there's something I have to show you first. Can you come round tomorrow evening? Flat 602, 12 Alderney Drive, Victoria. About 5pm?"
Claire looked a little disappointed. "I can... but..."
"It's important. You'll understand. I promise", interrupted Harry.
"Okay then. Can you write that down so I don't forget it?"
Harry didn't have any paper or a pen, but he reached into his pocket and cast a silent conjuration spell to create a notebook and pencil, making it appear as if they'd been there all along. He wrote down the address and handed it to Claire.
She looked at the note for a moment then folded it, slipped the paper into a trouser pocket and looked back at Harry.
"Three days in a row? We really are writing our own rules" she said.
"I'm glad", replied Harry.
Claire moved forward and kissed him on the cheek.
"It was another lovely evening, Harry", she said.
"I hope tomorrow will be another", he replied. "Do you want me to call you a taxi?"
"I'm almost home now. But thanks for offering. Will you catch one yourself?" asked Claire.
"It's not far to Victoria. It won't take long to pop home", replied Harry, trying not to smile at his own weak joke - he couldn't explain it to Claire after all.
"I'll see you then." Claire gave a little wave and set off home. Harry watched her walk for a few moments then looked around to find somewhere from which he could apparate. Heading towards a quiet doorway, Harry hoped he wasn't heading into an ambush. With a grimace, he turned on the spot and vanished.
A/N: Thanks for reading!