Hello, darlings! Another chapter down. I fully intended to have more Viktor in this, but Malfoy and the Twins had scathingly brilliant ideas that needed to happen. I hope you all enjoy.

Chapter 17: Time On the Town

On a whim, she summoned her patronus and sent the otter swimming off to ask Harry and Ron if they wanted to get lunch at Harrods. She waited for the glowing stag and white jack terrier to carry their answers. Ron's terrier suggested meeting at the Leaky. Grabbing her famous, or infamous, beaded bag, Hermione meandered down the Alley to the Leaky Cauldron, browsing and window shopping along the way. She hated being the first to arrive, so she occupied herself to give them time to get themselves in gear and get there.

In the taproom, they greeted each other with hugs. Harry and Ron went first out the door into Muggle London. A nasal, shrill, "Excuse me," halted Hermione's progress. Slowly, she turned unable to keep the disgust completely off her face at the sight of the jeweled spectacles and bright yellow stiffly coiffed curls of Rita Skeeter, her lime green quill hovered over the parchment floating behind her.

"What do you want?" Hermione asked in a flat voice, crossing her arms across her chest.

"Can't an honest reporter beg a quote from a famous witch?"

"Sure, show me one."

"A famous witch? Come now, Miss Granger, no need to be so humble."

"No, an honest reporter." Rita narrowed her eyes. "And you may address me as Mistress Granger."

Rita's lips curled in distaste until she remembered they had an audience. She pasted a sugary fake smile on her face and regrouped. "Are you, Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley off somewhere?"

"Yep."

"And where is that?"

"Noneya."

"Noneya?"

"None of your business. An American tourist taught me that in Sweden, isn't it clever?"

"Mistress Granger," Rita chocked a bit on the first part, "if you can't tell me where you're going, I will have to speculate." To the onlookers, it sounded like Skeeter was teasing the younger woman, but both knew she meant the threat, regardless of her lilting tone.

"To have lunch with the Minister and members of the ICW to discuss the need for bug repelling wards at the Ministry. Seems there's a pest the public isn't aware of."

Rita swallowed, feeling nervous for the first time, "That's dreadful to hear."

"Isn't it? And sometimes the nuisances seem to vanish, only to pop back up. At that point, you have no choice but to squash it for good."

"One hopes things aren't so dire as that."

"I guess that depends on the bug." Hermione gave her a feral grin. "As to a quote, I gave one to Kinley, ask her for it."

Rita swallowed again, "I suppose Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley are waiting for you. Have a pleasant lunch."

Ron and Harry waited for her, looking mildly concerned. "What took you so long?" Ron asked.

"Big problems, I had to remind a certain cockroach I can squash her whenever I want."

Harry shook his head, "That won't last forever. Eventually, the story will be too juicy for her to ignore."

"So long as she reports the truth, so be it. If she starts inventing stories she will discover that fifteen year old me was too forgiving and soft."

Ron laughed, "You locked her in a jar for a month."

"Yeah, and I should have donated her to an entomology department for study. She's the first of a new species." Harry opened his mouth, "Don't try and tell me she only comes after me because I react. We've all had her telling lies since before the end of the war, oh, boy-who-lies."

"Just agree, mate, loads safer that way." Ron clapped him on the back, ignoring her mock glares. "Now, lunch?" Laughing the trio apparated to Harrods.

Harry and Hermione followed Ron into the store and directly over to the Grill. All three quickly ordered and waited for the server to leave before beginning to plan. Harry started, "I talked to Dudley this morning, he finished his carpentry apprenticeship. He's offered to make the furniture but suggested waiting until after the wedding. He said to buy the mattresses and basic frames and decorate with linens for now. That way my fiance can express her opinion." He took a gulp of water. "He can't wait to meet her."

Ron's eyes widened comically, "What did you tell him?"

"What could I? I kept things vague and changed the subject. He'll meet her eventually."

"So what do we tell the Harrods people? They're going to want to deliver the mattresses." Hermione pointed out.

Harry nodded, "All ready sorted. We give them your mobile number, tell them we're moving outside of London, and we want to arrange for pick up. We rent a van and once they load them, we drive off. You shrink them, we return the van, move everything in and reverse the charm."

The three played a game of rock, paper, scissors to settle who got to pay the check, after squabbling over who paid last and if ice cream counted as eating out. Then they bickered over who got the leave the tips, much to the amusement of the staff. Hermione jumped around with her fists over her head like a heavy-weight champion when she and Ron won. "Fine," huffed Harry, I'll just pay for the beds."

The argument continued as they approached the escalators. "I'm paying." Harry stepped onto the moving step.

"You most certainly will not. I can pay for my own furniture." Hermione asserted as she followed him.

"My house, my responsibility," he replied.

"My bed, my pleasure," she ground out through gritted teeth.

As one, they looked at Ron, who held up his hands in surrender. "I am staying out of this, fight your own battles."

"Very smart, young man," complimented an older woman riding behind him.

"I thought so." She patted him on the back.

Harry solved the argument by running up the escalator, and racing to the salesperson in bedroom furniture. By the time Hermione and a laughing Ron caught up, Harry was explaining everything would be billed to him. "This is my sister, ignore her offers to pay, just have her pick out what she likes." Hermione glowered at him. "You can ignore her pouty face, too."

I'm going to pouty face you."

"Temper, temper," teased Harry.

Hermione stepped up close to him, "You would do well to remember I know where you sleep." Harry instantly sobered up and looked uneasy. "That's better. Fine, you can pay this time. Honestly, which one you like will be fine. We both always liked the school beds, find one similar to those."

Leaving Harry to the mercy of the hovering salesperson Hermione wandered through the displays. Once she found what she wanted, she waved for the salesperson. All three men joined her. "I want this spread in slate blue and these sheets in granite. I'm thinking of painting the walls dove gray, or maybe even something paler." The down-filled spray more resembled a pillow, and the 400 count Egyptian cotton felt like a cloud.

Harry nodded, "I like it, too. Only, I want the spread in black with the jade sheets." He looked at Hermione, "I think I want darker walls."

"Or do an accent wall," she suggested.

"We can play with swatches later." They each selected several sets of spare sheets and Ron helped pick out some sets for the guestrooms.

Before leaving the store, Ron insisted on going by the jewelry department. "The Weasleys and Prewetts don't have many heirlooms, let alone heirloom rings, and I'd rather not have the press dogging my every step while trying to find one."

"Too right, mate." Harry agreed.

Hermione knocked him upside the head, "You have plenty of rings on your vaults, Mr. Only-Child."

He looked sheepish, "Oh, yeah, sorry, Ron."

"All's forgiven if you help me pick something. I would like to find something today."

"Deal," Harry clapped him on the shoulder. Hermione followed them marveling at Ron's mature reaction. Once upon a time, he would have been furiously jealous at being reminded of Harry's wealth. His own success might have helped end that.

"Hey, Hermione, is Harry Winston a good brand?" Ron asked, "I think someone is biased towards the name."

"Both Winston and Cartier are well known for their diamond jewelry."

Ron looked back at the display cases, "Any suggestions?"

"Look for something heirloom worthy." The sales clerk's eyes lit up at her words. "I'm not the bride."

The clerk never missed a beat, "Yet, madame's opinion will be sought."

"Fair enough, we're looking for something classy, with just a touch of flash." Ultimately, Ron selected, and Hermione approved, a ring from Winston's Couture line. Smaller circle cut diamonds and two pear-shaped diamonds created two bows that flanked the two-carat oval cut primary diamond.

"You guys want to come ring hunting with me Monday between appointments?" Harry asked as they exited the store.
Ron shrugged, "Why not?"

"I should be free," Hermione made a moue of annoyance. "Except you can't return the favor. I don't need an engagement ring."

"We could stop Ginny and Mum from dragging you to every wedding shop under the sun."

"Oh, good, you'll help stop the two people I can tell to step off, that'll save me."

"We can come to the shops you don't care about, but your Mum does," Harry offered.

"That could work." Ron stopped walking, his face transforming in horror. "Ron, what's wrong?"

"Mum is going to want to plan everyone's wedding, but most of the girls probably won't want her help, having their mothers here."

Harry patted him sympathetically. Hermione gave him a calculated look, "I have a rather mercenary suggestion."

"I may be desperate, lay it on me."

"Deflect attention back to Ginny's wedding."

"That's evil," Ron told her.

"And?"

"Gin may never forgive me."

"Offer complaint free babysitting for a year, no questions, no refusals. But only if she figures it out and you need to keep her from killing you."

"How were you not in Slytherin?" Harry demanded.

"Muggleborn. What's your excuse?"

"I asked." The trio burst into laughter, Ron's earlier terror forgotten.

After much deliberation, Hermione decided to contain her hair in a simple ponytail. She considered straightening it and pulling it up on a French twist, but ultimately decided it was too much effort. Anticipating a night of hot crowded dance floors she chooses a silver sleeveless asymmetrical top and black boot cut leather pants. She finished the look with adorable ankle boots. Tiny silver hoops, a smudge of eye shadow, a sweep of mascara, a blot of lipstick, and her ever present beaded bag completed the outfit. Hermione made her way down to the front parlor to wait for Harry.

"Fred and George have declared themselves this evening's event coordinators and insist on paying to prevent protests," Harry told her as he walked in.

"I have my mobile. Make sure you have muggle money and your id."

Harry patted his front pocket. "Way ahead of you. My instructions were to meet at the Leaky."

"Same."

He gestured to the fireplace, "Ladies first."

"Why thank you, good sir, so gallant of you." She made her way through to the Leaky Cauldron.

"Mistress Granger, aren't you a sight for sore eyes," the elderly barkeep greeted her.

"Hello, Tom." She moved towards the bar.

"Decided to give young Hannah the night off to run around with you lot."

"That's very nice of you."

Tom nodded his greetings to Harry, "Fred and George said to send you along to the backroom for instructions."

Harry grimaced, "Is it too late to back out?"

"Yes," Hermione told him. "Where's your Gryffindor courage?"

"All used up. You only get so much per lifetime. Used up my allotment growing up."

She linked arms with him. "I'll loan you some of mine."

"Thanks," he rolled his eyes.

"You're welcome," she giggled. She pushed the door open. Numerous people exclaimed their names in greeting. They joined Lee Jordan and Alicia Spinnet at a nearby table.

George leapt onto a table, "You're attention, please." He waited for everyone to fall silent. "First, a round of applause for the great Hermione Granger, her brilliance is not only behind this evening and its plans but her deep drive for vengeance funding it!" Everyone cheered. "Now, as we all know, we're all about to get married. Meaning, we call need a stag/hen night." Cheers and laughter erupted. "Hermione also once described a hen party where the revelers played golf. Not the muggle game with clubs and holes, but a drinking game." George gave the purebloods a crash course in golf, then explained the drinking version. "At each bar, everyone will do one shot, or hole together. We are staying at each bar for half an hour. While a full game of golf is 18 holes, we will be doing the shorter version with nine holes, so pace yourself, people."

Fred began moving through the tables. "In keeping with the theme of stag/hen parties, we have sashes for the ladies, and armbands for the gents. These show you are with the Epic Last Night of Freedom party. This entitles you to drink and eat on the tab we have opened at each establishment." Again the group cheered.

"Last, but not least, we rented a muggle bus to take us around. Safer than apparation, less nauseating than the Knight Bus." George finished.

Joining in the excitement with the rest, Hermione slipped on her sash and helped Alicia settle hers. She straightened Harry and Lee's armbands. "George is correct, if you want to make all nine holes, pace yourself."

Fred got their attention again, "Please note the old boring people: Remus and Tonks Lupin, and Bill and Fleur Weasley are our designated babysitters. They are authorized to cut anyone off and will assist those too wasted to play on home." The four waved from the doorway. Each wore a t-shirt declaring themselves to be 'Official Adultsitters.'

Ginny skipped over to Hermione, "Is it wrong that I want to get so smashed Bill has to hold my hair?"

"I suppose not if that's what you really want."

"That or making him wrestle me back into my clothes."

"I wish you luck in your endeavor."

"Thanks, Mione."

"Seven holes later, Bill did have to wrestle a Weasley back into clothes, but it was not Ginny. She and Hermione perched on bar stools cheering as Fred attempted to streak, as Bill and Remus chased him about trying to stop him. Ginny called out instructions to Fred, while Hermione yelled encouragement for the pursuit. George laughed so hard, he fell into Lee. Gasping for air, breathless from laughter, Hermione looked for Harry once Fred had been tackled and shoved back into his jeans. Harry, Ron, Neville, and Seamus were admiring the arcade games. She suspected if they could remember their interest tomorrow, Seamus would be inquiring about powering them in his pubs, at the very least.

The last hole of the night was the Leaky Cauldron. Once people were partied out one of Adultsitters assisted them in flooing home. Bill yelled out the address and shoved Fred through, "Damn git." Ginny giggled at him uncontrollably. "You're not behaving much better." Then cursing under his breath, he went to break up Charlie and Bea before they had sex in a booth.

Hermione drunkenly petted Tonk's hair. "So pretty, so pink. You could almost eat it."

"No head nibbles," Tonks told her firmly. Hermione pouted. "Come on, let's get you home."

"Okay," Hermione hopped off the barstool. She twirled around the taproom. "We need to have a hen party for you. You never got one."

"I've been an old married woman for six years."

"That invalidates you have fun without Remus?"

"No, but I have Teddy."

"No, buts. I am using the authority vested in me by Sirius to be his proxy to demand we go out." They entered the floo.

"If you remember this when you're sober, fine." Hermione grinned triumphantly, before stumbling a bit. "Watch your step."

Remus caught her as she tripped coming out of the fireplace. "What did you promise? Because even this smashed Hermione will remember it."

Tonks rolled her eyes, "Sure she will."

Hermione patted Remus's cheeks, "Don't worry, Moony. Just girl stuff. You can't come."

"Alright, missy, let's get you to bed." Tonks directed her towards the stairs.

"Good luck," Remus called behind them, "Harry wanted to try and find his lucky socks for Monday."

"That isn't so bad," Tonks told him.

"Naked."

"Oh, well, that's another story."