A/N: Sorry for posting the chapter rather late. Reviews are appreciated.

Chapter Three: Madame Puddifoot's

Later that same afternoon, Hermione's mother was having tea at her daughter's terrace. However, no part of Hermione's mind was on anything her mother was saying. She had been feeling blissfully happy since Harry's telephone call. For his answer to her question at the breakfast table this morning really hurt her and left her with an unbearable feeling of insecurity. But there could be only one reason for his suggestion that they have dinner at Madame Puddifoot's. He too must have been thinking about his answer to her question and this was his sweet way of assuring her that, if he had it to do all over again, he would marry her.

"Well dear, I must be going," Mrs. Granger stood up from her chair.

"Alright mother," Hermione said, getting up herself.

Her mother was about to leave when Winky opened the door on the terrace, "Mr. Lupin is here to see you," she announces, "He said he was one of your professors at Hogwarts."

"Professor Lupin, here?" Hermione said, surprised, "Please show him in."

A few minutes later, Lupin walked through the door, "Wow, Professor Lupin! What a surprise!" Hermione gave him a hug.

"Hello, Hermione!" he hugged back, "and Mrs. Granger," he extended his hand. "I thought none of you would remember me."

"What are you doing in London?" Mrs. Granger asked.

"I'm on some business," he replied.

Hermione pulled up a chair, "Sit down won't you? And have some tea?"

"Oh no, thanks, I've got a lot to do," he declined politly, "Only dropped in for a second."

Lupin examined her, "Hermione, you haven't a change a bit from the little girl that became Head Girl at Hogwarts."

"Professor, that is the nicest thing you could have said to me," Hermione replied, beaming.

"Please, it's Remus. I was just talking to Harry about you today, and I just couldn't resist on stopping by to see you."

"Oh? What were you doing with Harry?" Hermione inquired.

Lupin drew in his breath, "Well you see, I was talking to Dumbledore yesterday about----"

Hermione and Mrs. Granger listened to his story intently.

"----you're not legally married." Lupin finished.

"That's terrible!" Mrs. Granger exclaimed.

"Oh, no no, its nothing," Lupin assured them, "All you have to do is get married again."

"Well!" Mrs. Granger gasped, "I should say so!"

"Now mother, don't get excited," Hermione said, her eyes dancing, "Harry's going to do right by your little girl!"

"How do you know?" Mrs. Granger asked curiously.

Hermione thought this was perfect. Here she had conjured up a purely hypothetical situation this morning, and nightfall; it had turned into an actuality. Any husband could say he'd do the same thing all over again, but Harry was proving it. Not just announcing casually as some husbands would have, that due to a technicality, they'd have to go through the formality of another ceremony. She had concluded that taking her to Madame Puddifoot's was romantic; having been the setting for the first time he's proposed.

"Because, Harry's already called up and wants us to have dinner for two at Madame Puddifoot's, he'll marry me tonight," explained Hermione.

"I hope so," Mrs. Granger said, without conviction, "Now I must go,"

She and Lupin started heading towards the door, "I hope everything's going to be alright," she repeated gloomily.

"I have to go too, I'm behind schedule. Goodbye, Hermione," Lupin said as he walked out with Mrs. Granger.

"Goodbye, Remus, Mother," she called back.

Her mother turned to her one more time, "Well you'll call me if anything happens, if nothing happens."

Hermione could have laughed outright at her mother's preposterous forebodings. She thought, "Why on earth should anybody have to hope that everything was going to be alright when she herself knew it would be?"

"Winky!" Hermione yelled out. After a few moments, the elf appeared. "You know that blue dress that's hanging in the downstairs closet?"

"Yes"

"I was married in that outfit, and I want to wear it tonight, isn't that wonderful?" said Hermione.

"You know better than I do," Winky smiled. She walked off to retrieve the garment. Together, they spent the rest of the afternoon trying to fit the dress on Hermione.

"Inhale, Mrs. Potter, inhale!" Winky instructed.

"Ooooohhhh!" Hermione cried, frustrated, "I can't understand anything hanging in the closet shrinking so much!"

Through a little help from magic, Hermione was able to enlarge the size of the dress so she could fit, though snuggly. She apparated to the front lobby of the Quidditch stadium at 6:00 sharp. Penelope showed her to the changing rooms just as Harry was putting on his tie.

"Mrs. Potter," Penelope announced, opening the door.

Hermione marched right up to Harry.

"Hello darling," Harry greeted happily, giving her a peck on the cheek, "I thought you weren't going to buy anymore new clothes."

He examined her carefully, "Say, you look kind of cute!"

Hermione smiled, "You know, I can't wait see Madame Puddifoot's! Do you think we'll get the same table?"

"Oh sure."

"With that small circular table and the floating cherubs with the pink confetti," Hermione recalled, a dreamy look appeared on her face, "You know, I even love the smell of the place?"

Harry laughed at her enthusiasm and kissed her again.

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They shortly arrived in front of Madame Puddifoot's, after strolling through Hogsmeade. Sniffing the aroma, they turned to each other with a perplex look on their faces.

"Either our noses have changed, or they built a horses' stable around here," Harry remarked.

"It's not exactly Chanel 5," Hermione agreed, "Come on, lets go in."

They slowly entered the establishment. Harry and Hermione's jaws fell in disappointment as they looked around. It bore no resemblance whatever to the place they had so fondly remembered. Madame's Puddifoots's have been remodeled into a cheap, decrepit pub. All the frilly decorations have disappeared, and the circular tables have been replaced by creaky, square ones covered by a tacky checkered-pattern tablecloth. Instead of trysting couples, the patrons of the place seem to be those that fit the description of wizards who frequent Hog's Head. There were only a few people sitting at the bar. A hooded man was sitting in one of the tables. A small black cat on the same table is stealing food from his plate as he was looking away. The man turned around and brushed the cat away. He finally noticed Harry and Hermione standing there.

"The place has changed a little," Harry whispered to Hermione facetiously.

"Customers!" the man announced loudly.

Suddenly, the door opened behind him and a grumpy looking old man with long grey hair and beard appeared. Harry and Hermione made their way over to him.

"Is Madame Puddifoot here?" Harry asked.

"I'm Madame Puddifoot," he grumbled.

Harry exchanged glances with Hermione and chuckled, "Umm, you've changed a little too."

"She's sold the place. She retired a year ago," the man started to turn away.

"Hey wait a minute!" Harry cried out, "We'd like to eat here."

The man raised his eyebrows, "You want to eat HERE?"

Hermione smile weakly and nodded.

Harry grinned, "Yes, if you haven't any objections."

"If you've got no objections, I've got no objections. Where would you like to sit?" he asked.

Hermione finally spoke out, "Well we've used to come here years ago and there used to be tables outside," she mentioned, "Would it be too much trouble to have it the way it used to be?"

The man gave her an odd look, "Are you going to have the two galleons dinner or the four galleons dinner?"

"Four," Harry responded.

"Okay," the man said. He quickly sets up one of the tables out by the corner of the street. To make some effort, he placed a white tablecloth instead and added a candle in the center.

Harry and Hermione awkwardly sat down across from each other. Harry looked at the table, "The tablecloth isn't checkered," he observed, "It's dirty enough to look checkered."

"Oh, the candle stuck in the butterbeer bottle add a lot of class too," Hermione muttered sarcastically. They looked out into the street and saw a small crowd, mostly children, starting to gather nearby just staring at them.

"Haven't they seen anyone eat before?" Harry said, looking annoyed.

"Lets just outstare them," Hermione suggested, "That'll make them embarrassed!"

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After a few minutes of the staring contest, the couple gave up and reluctantly went back inside. They are now sitting in the same table where the hooded man had eaten his dinner. The cat however refused to move and is now lying on the table right next to Hermione.

Harry could not help but stare at the cat.

"Just eat your soup dear," Hermione said.

"There's something wrong with that soup!" Harry complained, looking at the bowl suspiciously.

"It's your imagination," she dismissed.

"Why doesn't the cat eat the soup?" he pointed out, "Animals know what's good for them. You notice he ate the olives."

"The pits too," she added.

"Oh, that's roughage," Harry reasoned.

"Make the best of it darling," Hermione pleaded, "Don't let it spoil our evening."

"That cat knows something," he said, not taking his eyes off the cat.

"Uh, where shall we go after this?" Hermione asked with apparent casualness.

"Home," he told her cheerfully, as though that were the only possible answer.

Hermione frowned, "Home? Aren't- aren't we supposed to go some place before we go home?" She tensed up thinking surely he had kept up this pretense long enough.

Harry looked at her with maddening blandness as though he had not the slightest idea what she might be implying, "Altogether it would be too late." He turned his attention back to the cat, "I'd give 10 galleons to see the cat take a sip of that soup!"

Hermione was trying to not let her frustration show, "Harry?"

"Yes dear?"

"Tell me what you do in a day at the stadium, just a simple day like today," Hermione asked him specifically, "From the time you went in until we met up, what happened?"

Harry's entire attention seemed to be centered on his soup, "Oh, nothing," he answered with a stifled yawn, "uh, it's dull as dishwater really."

"Oh no it isn't, I'm very interested," Hermione leaned in, elbows on the table, "What sort of things go on in a day? Who did you see? Please try and remember."

Harry's slanted brows drew together, as though remembering was an effort. Then he smiled brightly as if suddenly recalling something of value, "Uh, let me see," he looked away, " I went to see Ron at his office in the morning, uh, we went over some new plays, and uh, That's about all, I spent most of my day out in the field practicing, its hard to catch up after three days."

Hermione sat rigid, all her muscles tightening.

Harry, feeling satisfied with his answer turned back to the cat and pushed his bowl right up to it, "I wonder if he'll take a little soup. Go on," he encouraged the animal, "Go on! No, he won't. Doesn't that mean something? I want my stomach pumped!"

Hermione remained silent as Harry continued to play around stirring his soup with a spoon. She was just about to say something when the owner made his way over to their table.

"Nice cat eh? I'm unlucky with cats here. Third cat this week," the owner remarked.

Harry dropped his spoon alerted.

"They get run over," he explained.

A relieved Harry picked up his spoon again.

"I think," the owner added nonchalantly, he turned to Hermione, "Your name Mrs. Potter?"

"Yes," she responded, "How did you know?"

"Your mother is in the kitchen," he informed her, "On the phone."

"Oh," Hermione said nervously, "Well, it must about the family reunion, or something," She got up and followed the man into the kitchen where he handed her the receiver.

"Hello mother," she answered. Hermione glanced behind her back and whispered into the phone, "Not exactly. He's teasing me. Thinks he's being romantic about it. Mother, are you crying?"

"Oh my poor baby!" Hermione heard her say, "Listen to me now! Under no conditions, do you hear me, to-to"

"Why mother! Of course not!" she assured her, "Yes mother, worse comes to worse, I'll spend the night with you. Yes, goodbye mother."

She hung up the telephone. Composing herself, she made her way back to the table.

"Everything alright?" Harry asked as she sat down.

"Yes."

"Darling, I have a little secret to tell you," he said.

Hermione heaved out a huge sigh of relief, her face lighted as though sunlight had fallen upon it, "Well it's about time! What is it?" she asked almost too eagerly.

"You're a great girl," Harry told her with a grin.

Hermione pushed back her chair with a harsh scraping sound, her unsmiling gaze held his.

"Its getting rather late if we have to go anyplace," she informed him distinctly and significantly, "If you know what I mean."

"I get it," Harry smirked and yelled out, "Waiter! The bill!"