A/N: Sorry for the wait, I was too busy freaking out about the Pottermore quests. I shall be known as Riveroak101 from now on!


Apparation really is a pain in the neck… especially if you splinch yourself. Having safely averted any splinching disasters, Dan and Min had arrived in a small, dark side-street in the middle of nowhere. Perhaps it was the natural paranoia that she seemed to have inherited from turning into a cat, but the place made her squirm.

"Sometimes, Daniel McGonagall, I really question your decision-making abilities," Minerva said, nervously peering around them.

"Oh, ye of little faith! Whatever will we do with you? Come on, it's this way." He pulled her towards a glimmer of light that reflected on the damp cobblestones.

"Oh, Dan," Minerva gasped as he led her out into a bustling high street. The street lamps thrust their amber glow upon the ground as a throng of Muggles worked their way around the rows of little shops. Minerva let her eyes fall closed when she felt warm tendrils of fragrance tickle her nostrils. It was sweet but tangy at the same time. A while passed before she recognised it as gingerbread, a favourite childhood snack of hers, drifting from a nearby bakery. How very festive, she thought.

Her eyes fluttered open once more and they fell immediately upon Dan, who was smirking at her look of wonder.

"Well, I couldn't just Apparate us into the middle of the street, could I?" He pulled her hand to rest in the crook of his arm and they began to weave through the Muggle masses, most of whom were making their weary way home from work.

It was early evening and the sun was only just peeking out from side of the Cathedral, playing hide and seek behind its never-ending spires. A few of the shops were beginning to close up on their last day of trading before the Christmas holidays, but the majority were still open.

"Why would you leave buying Christmas presents until three days before Christmas?" Dan asked as they made their way towards a little clothing boutique.

"I haven't left the whole present! There's just a little bit that I haven't finished." When he did not reply, Minerva continued. "I am not an idiot, you know."

Daniel turned his head to her in confusion. He would have been concerned were it not for the hint of a smile playing over her face, betraying the tone of her voice.

"I am not telling you what your present is. You shall just have to wait."

"Why must you torture me, woman?"

"Where exactly are we?" she whispered, anxious not to be overheard by the many Muggles still rushing to finish last-minute Christmas shopping. It would be odd for them to hear someone ask where they were when they should know automatically.

"A charming little place called Truro. Well, I say 'little' but it's actually one of the busiest places in Cornwall."

They spent almost an hour browsing Muggle shops. Daniel found himself relishing in watching Minerva pick up Muggle gadgets and look at them as if she were seeing them for the first time. She probably is seeing them for the first time, Dan thought in wonder. Very few Purebloods ever got out into the Muggle world. In that instant he felt suddenly fatherly, as if he were presenting the wide world to a child, which later disturbed him somewhat as he was only three years older than Minerva.

The couple were just exiting a mini emporium selling all kinds of wonderfully odd trinkets, when Minerva lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper once more.

"I don't suppose there are any 'special shops' about, are there?"

It took him a moment before he realised that Minerva had meant wizard shops.

"Nothing as good as Diagon Alley because this place is primarily Muggles, but there are a few". They slipped into yet another slightly grimy side-street which housed no more than seven shabby-looking shop fronts. As they were about to cross the threshold of a wizard artefacts store, Minerva placed a light but forbidding palm on his chest.

"You wouldn't mind waiting outside, would you? It's just that I would rather you didn't get a chance to figure out what your present will be."

Regretfully, Dan assented and resigned to leaning against the stone wall, tapping his feet and nodding his head to the few people that trickled by. By the time Minerva finally emerged from the shop, Dan's stomach was complaining to him.

"All done, milady?"

"Why, yes, kind sir."

"Thank Merlin! Can we please eat now? I am famished."

"Do you know somewhere?"

"Please, Min, I know everywhere… except Yorkshire. Don't ask me about Yorkshire."


It was a warm, inviting little restaurant with low lights and soft violin music. The smell of varnished wood and early-wilting roses laced the air underneath the faint, lingering cloud of cigarette smoke.

A greasy-looking waiter seated them at a cramped table in the corner of the restaurant, which invoked the slightest hint of claustrophobia in Minerva. That will be the effect of spending too long in draughty old manors and wild moorlands, old girl. When the waiter had decided that they had had long enough to peruse the extensive menus, he returned wearing a smile that he evidently thought was inviting.

"What can I get you, Sir? Madam?" he croaked.

"I think I will have the roast lamb. I hear it is the best in the area," Daniel added politely.

"Indeed, Sir. The best in the country, if you ask me." The waiter's face and drawling voice would suggest that he thought no such thing.

"And I will have the tomato soup, thank you," said Minerva.

"Very good, Madam."

"Really? Soup?" Dan asked, left eyebrow shifting towards his hairline.

"I need to warm up!"

"You should have said that you were cold; I would have given you my jacket." Fighting the imminent blush at his kindness, Minerva replied with an eyebrow raised.

"But then you would be cold and we would be in the same situation but upside-down."

The waiter, whose presence they had temporarily forgotten, cleared his throat audibly.

"Would Sir and Madam care for a drink?"

"Ah, yes. I don't know about you, Minnie, dear, but I could murder some red wine."

"That sounds perfect. Whatever type you have will be suffice, I am sure." She smiled at him in what she hoped was a convincingly polite manner.

"Will that be all?" The waiter asked impatiently.

"Yes, thank you," the couple replied in unison.


By the time their food arrived, piping hot, at the table, Dan and Minerva were already deep in conversation. They talked of work, of Quidditch, of hobbies and homes. With the constant rumble of other voices, there was little chance of them being overheard and, even if they were, they had been careful not to discuss anything that any passing Muggles may find a tad too out-of-the-ordinary.

They had exhausted several topics of conversation by the time they had finished their meal and both found themselves reclining in their chairs, losing themselves in the heady warmth of the wine. Daniel had spotted a couple, who were barely looking up from their dinner plates, across the way. He turned to his companion.

"What do you think their story is?" he asked, nodding in their direction. Minerva glanced up and then stared thoughtfully into her wineglass as she twirled it around in her fingertips.

"Hmm… He made a fortune selling useless inventions to Muggles and she is getting drunk enough to forget how much she hates her pitiful existence. Look, now she is saying 'well, that's fascinating, Gerald. Let me just cut myself with this napkin.'" Daniel was not sure whether it was the wine, the words or the ridiculously nasally voice that Minerva had adopted for the impression that made him laugh. Perhaps it was a mixture of the three.

"So, what do you think about those two?" Minerva indicated an annoyingly good-looking couple seated in close proximity to the well-stocked bar.

"He just met her at the bar and offered to buy her dinner. He thought he would try his luck, I suppose."

"Really? You think he picked her up at the bar?" Minerva asked with an obvious note of surprise to her voice.

"She looks like the heavy-drinking kind." Daniel smirked. Minerva did not dare ask how he had come to that conclusion. It had never been her inclination to seek out strangers for social benefit.

"I am fascinated. How would you go about picking up a stranger in a bar?"

"I would use one of my special lines, of course." This simple answer had Minerva intrigued.

"Special lines?"

"Yes, sparkling one-liners designed to have women buckling at the knees, either due to unbearable sweetness or terrible puns," he answered in a tone that almost suggested he had had a fair deal of practice.

"Let's hear some then."

"Hmm… here's an old Muggle one: 'Do you believe in love at first sight, or should I walk by again?' Oh, here's one especially for you: 'I may not be an Animagus, but I can be a real animal.'" Minerva snorted. "Or there is the ever classic 'I've been whomping my willow thinking about you.'" Minerva's jaw dropped in a most unladylike way. Were her ears playing cruel – and quite disgusting – tricks on her?

"That is truly revolting."

"But it's supposed to be flattering," Daniel said, crestfallen.

"Oh, you have a lot to learn." A playful smile lifted the corners of Minerva's lips as she lifted a delicate foot to rub the back of Daniel's leg. While he was shocked for a moment, he soon found himself revelling in the public physical contact. Now all the world could see that they cared for each other and that was all that mattered at that second. A little while later, when both had drained yet another glass of wine, Daniel bowed his head sadly.

"I truly am sorry, you know. I never meant for things to get so…" He trailed off, unable to understand himself why he had thought to bring down the mood of the evening with yet another apology.

"Don't apologize. I offered to help and so I must live with the consequences." They clicked their refilled glasses together lightly.

"Are you drunk enough to let me kiss you again?" he said.

"I don't need to be." Minerva leaned towards him and their lips met in a sweet but oh-so-short kiss.

"And you said I was cheesy."


A/N: Just to point out, this was set when it was legal to smoke in public buildings in Britain! And I borrowed the "what's the story" concept from the movie Date Night, which I highly recommend but also do not own. :)