A/N: Thanks a lot for the Reviews! I've decided to continue on with the story since most of you are interested. I did try to add some more imagery to the scenes, but it's kind of difficult since I like to concentrate on dialogue and has a habit of neglecting description of the setting. Suggestions are appreciated! Now I bring you, the next chapter of Mr. and Mrs. Potter.
Chapter Four: Truth Revealed
"He'll tell me the second we get home then," Hermione thought desperately as they were leaving the restaurant, "He had probably even made arrangements for us to be married there at once." Convincing herself of this, she relaxed.
It was only after they had reached home that she realized he had no intention of telling her. Harry suggested to Hermione to go prepare some drinks as he headed into their bedroom. Hurt, anger and incredulity washed over her as she mixed the drinks. As she poured, her thoughts merged into a wave of seething rage. She stopped what she was doing and started pacing around in disbelief.
Meanwhile, Harry was in the room whistling to himself as he prepared for their incredible night. He examined himself once more in the mirror before strolling out of the room nonchalantly clad in pajamas. He ducked just in time as a ceramic pot aiming for his head shattered against the door behind him.
"YOU BEAST! YOU KNOW WE'RE NOT MARRIED! YOU WERE NEVER GOING TO TELL ME!" Hermione screamed at the top of her lungs.
Harry gulped, "I was going to tell you honey! I was going to tell you later!" he said hoarsely, in a voice he tried to make convincing.
"Later? How much later could you have told me?"
"There's no need in going on like this!" Harry said trying to calm her down.
Like a bonfire out of control, her temper blazed higher and higher, "You were going to wait until-"
"Mione!" he cried.
"And then throw me aside like a squeezed lemon!" she concluded with seething rage.
"Squeezed lemon? Don't dramatize this! "Harry protested.
"I've given you the best years of my life and you were willing to go on and on!" Hermione continued to rant pointing at him accusingly, "I've always had a suspicion about you, and so did my mother! Your forehead slants back too much!"
He tried to get closer to her, "Will you please let me say-"
"DON'T TOUCH ME!" she yelled.
"But, Mione-"he begged frantically.
It was too late. Hermione walked pass him to the bedroom doorway, "GET OUT! Go on! You're not staying here!" She pointed to the door.
"But we can't leave the bedroom until after we've made up," Harry told her.
"You're not in the bedroom. GET OUT!" she screamed.
"Hermione! Listen to me!"
"I now know you for what you are and lucky I found you out!" Her face livid, she dashed into the bedroom, scooped up the heap of his discarded clothes and raced through the living room, "You're getting out of here!"
"Those are my clothes!" Harry exclaimed, trying to catch up to her.
"Never come back! I never want to see you again as long as I live!" Hermione flung the clothes out of the apartment door.
"What are you doing!" he yelled out before running outside to retrieve his clothes.
Hermione seized the opportunity to slam the door and lock it shut. Upon hearing the noise, Harry turned around, now facing the door. In his pajamas and without a wand, he desperately banged on it until his hands were bruised.
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After a few hours, a defeated Harry made his way to the Leaky Cauldron.
"Good evening, Mr. Potter" Tom greeted him at the desk.
"Good evening Tom," Harry replied, "Have you a room for a man officially in the doghouse?"
"I'm sure we have," without any questions, he turned to retrieve a room key, "Quite an honor seeing you here sir. Can't remember you spending the night here in three years sir. Here you are," Tom handed him the key.
Harry breakfasted the next morning in the dining room while observing the guests, much like he did during his extended stays as a Hogwarts student.
"Hello Potter!" a familiar voice greeted him from behind.
Harry turned and looked up, "Hey Seamus!"
Seamus took a seat next to him. He noticed Harry's glum expression and gave him a knowing look, "I had a fight with my wife too."
"It wasn't exactly a fight," Harry retorted while sipping his tea.
"You know what I can't understand?" Seamus pointed out, "Whenever two people have a fight, the wife usually goes home to her mother. But when I have a fight, I have to get out of the house."
"Heh," Harry asked, "How do you get back?"
"Simplest thing in the world," Seamus revealed as if it was some huge secret, "Ignore it. Ignore the whole thing. The next day, they're dying to see you. Take it from me brother, I've had experience."
"Yeah," Harry pondered for a moment, "Just go to practice. Don't even telephone. She worries, why I don't come back. And when I do get back..."
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That night, Harry returned to their flat, carrying a bouquet of flowers as a peace offering. As he reached the doorbell, he noticed the nameplate above it had been changed to read: "Miss Hermione Granger." Without haste, he casts a spell to change it back to: Mr. and Mrs. Potter."
It took several rings before Winky answered the door. She opened as much as the newly installed brass chain on the lock would allow.
"What can I do for you?" she asked as if she's never met him before.
"What can you do for me?' Harry repeated with a vexed expression, "What's this?"
"A chain to keep people out," Winky answered simply.
"Well open it up!" he commanded.
"Ms. Granger is not at home."
"Ms. Granger is not at home," he echoed sardonically, "I'm going to come in and wait!
You open that up or I'll dismiss you!" he threatened.
"You're not in the position to dismiss me sir," Winky responded callously, "I know how you've been acting towards her and all I can say about what she's done is it's about time."
Harry held his wand out and was about to tap the chain when Winky noticed and slammed the door quickly, forcing his wand to fall inside the flat.
He banged on the door, "Hey! What about my wand!"
In spite of the repeated rings and knocks, the door never opened. Finding himself again in this similar situation, Harry walked down to the lobby to wait for Hermione's return.
He sat himself down on a chair by a potted tree in the corner where he had a good view of the front door. It wasn't until after midnight when Harry spotted Hermione walking into the building with another man. His eyes grew wide as he recognized whom it was.
"Thank you for a wonderful evening, Draco," Hermione smiled as they reached the lift.
"I'll take you upstairs," Draco offered, extending his hand.
Hermione politely refused, "No, that's quite alright, I had a wonderful time."
"I did too, Hermione," he leaned in to kiss her.
"Oh no no no, Draco," she shook a finger at him teasingly.
Draco raised his eyebrows, "Better luck next time." He grabbed her hand and kissed it, "Good night."
"Good night," Hermione blushed as she stepped into the lift. She gave a final wave before the doors closed.
Draco watched her until she left his sight. He turned to leave, but instead, came face to face with a very pissed off Harry.
Harry merely glared at him, "Malfoy," he muttered biting his lip. He walked around him to the lift, without breaking his stare, meanwhile fighting every urge to punch his face in.
Draco stared back with a look of pure amusement. Flashing his famous smirk, he walked off.
Harry raced out of the lift once he'd reached their floor. He marched down the hall and banged hard at their front door.
"Open the door!" Harry yelled, "I know you're in there. Now this is ridiculous! I saw you downstairs with Malfoy! Open this door!"
The door opened slightly; with the chain lock in use. "Here's your wand!" As the wooden stick flew out into the hall, the door slammed back shut.
"Hermione! You open the door!" Harry banged on the door a few more times, getting angrier and angrier at each knock. Frustrated, he threw the bouquet of flowers down on the ground.
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The next morning, after his second night at the Leaky Cauldron, he arrived back at their building just in time to see Hermione come out of the front door and step into a waiting taxi. Sprinting as fast as he could, Harry opened the cab door and flung himself into the seat beside her, just as the motor started. The driver gave him a strange look and hesitated to go.
"Go on! Go on!" Harry told him.
The cab driver shrugged his shoulders and droved on. Hermione had merely looked at him with cool disinterest, so the conciliator words Harry had intended to say, had changed to exasperation.
"Now, are you going to stop this silly farce or aren't you?" he demanded irately, "I've just been through a three day session of this nonsense and I haven't any more time for these games of yours. You can come home now, and I'm willing not to discuss it anymore!"
Hermione stared straight ahead without even bothering to look at him, "That's very generous of you," she told him with a knife edge of sarcasm, "But who do you think you're talking to?"
"My wife!" he puffed out.
"We're not married," she replied with a small, maddeningly superior little smile.
"Are you out of your mind?" Harry squeaked, "Certainly we're married! What do you mean after three years we're not married?"
Hermione finally met his eyes, "Legally, we're not married," she told him callously.
"Oh, for Merlin sakes!" he huffed, "Alright we'll get married! Does that satisfy you?"
"We'll get married," she repeated coldly, "That's a nice snarling proposal. Listen here, you had a hard enough job getting me to marry you before when I didn't know where this road would get us to. But I do know now, and HOW I know it! If anyone asks me, you're no bargain."
Harry pondered her words for a moment, "Well, what's wrong with me?"
"I don't want this discussion to run into hours," Hermione replied while shifting herself away from him, "I've very busy."
"Well, name one thing about me that you don't like!"
"One thing?" she scoffed, "My, aren't we vain?"
"One thing I am not is vain!" he rebutted.
"What about that tar stuff that you keep rubbing your head that smells up my whole bedroom?" Hermione mentioned.
"I am only trying to save my hair for you!" Harry informed her, "And you're a fine one to talk, going to bed with those aluminum clips in your hair. You turned over one night and cut me in twenty places!"
"You needn't worry," Hermione turned away, looking out the window, "You won't be cut anymore!"
"I'm not going to stand anymore of this and that's my final word on the matter!" he exclaimed.
"Nice to have met you," she replied plainly.
Harry sighed in annoyance, "I'm not going to support you, what do you think of that?"
"Fine." Hermione said unaffected.
"No, I mean it!" he proclaimed, "You're not getting anymore money!"
"Who asked you?" she said as the cab pulled to the side of the road. Hermione handed the driver a few coins before stepping out. Harry immediately followed her into the building.
"How do you think you're going to live?" he asked.
She made no reply.
"I said, how do you think you're going to live?" Harry repeated.
Hermione waved to the guard at the desk as she passed by, "Good morning"
"Good morning," the guard greeted.
Harry tried to follow but was held back by the guard.
"Hey, where are you going sir?" the guard asked pointing to the sign above which read: Ministry Personnel only.
Looking around, Harry finally realized that he was inside the Ministry of Magic building. He gave the guard a nod before walking out. Remembering the procedures from his fifth year, Harry went to seek out the telephone booth to access visitor's entrance.
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