A/N: Thanks for all the kind reviews! Really appreciating it. Now the plot thickens as I bring you the next chapter in Mr. and Mrs. Potter! Enjoy!
Chapter Six: Executing the Plan
Harry woke up early the next morning, having spent yet another night at the Leaky Cauldron. Someone was knocking on the door just as Harry was sitting at the edge of the bed tying his shoes.
"Come in," he called out without bothering to turn around.
Ron entered, promptly greeting, "Hello Harry."
"Hello," Harry replied.
"Postponed the contract agreement with the International Association of Quidditch until Tuesday," Ron informed him while pacing about the room.
"Fine," he muttered in a monotone voice, still looking down, "Just fine."
Ron studied his friend closely before taking a seat next to him on the bed. "I like to ask you to do something Harry," he said.
"I'll get my work cleaned up in no time at all," Harry assured him, "I - I can't seem to get my mind on it right now."
"Oh that's alright Harry," Ron replied, "You don't know what I'm going to ask you yet."
"Sure," Harry gave out a weak laugh, "Anything you want, you know."
Ron stared at him for a few moments before speaking. "I like to have you drop in at you own home tonight," he said, "After dinner."
Harry gives him a curious glance before getting up to walk around, "What do you mean?"
"Well, I took matters into my own hands and asked Hermione to have me for dinner," he explained, "She's fond of me and she knows I'm fond of her."
Harry looked at him inquisitively.
"Well, I think I can straighten this thing out," Ron added, "I hope it IS something I can straighten out."
"Oh yes, it's nothing at all," Harry's face lit up, "It's just a little marital quarrel, its nothing at all really."
"Hmm, I imagine it was that," he nodded thoughtfully, giving Harry an understanding and reassuring smile, "You're too fine to do anything stupid."
"Well now," Ron stood up to meet his face, "I like to have you just drop in unannounced at shall we say, nine o clock?"
The expression on his clean-cut face was so sympathetically encourage, so exactly as though the reconciliation were already accomplished, that Harry's eager gratitude was almost pathetic.
"Ron-I-" Harry swallowed hard, almost choking up.
"That's alright," he patted him on the back.
Harry extended his hand out, "You're the best friend a man ever had."
"I'm your manager," Ron said shaking his hand.
"You're the best manager a man ever had."
"We were school chum!"
"You're the best keeper that Gryffindor ever had," Harry remarked, "I think O'Hara is great." He patted Ron on the shoulder, "O'Hara couldn't touch you."
"Thanks Harry," Ron replied.
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On his way home tonight, Harry resolved, with something very like humility, that no matter what happened, no matter what humble pie Hermione made him eat, no matter what she said or did, he wouldn't muff his chances this time. He was still grinning as he stepped off the lift onto their floor.
Harry rang the doorbell, noticing that the sign above it, once again read, "Miss Hermione Granger."
The door opened slightly, still being secured with the chain.
"May I come in?" he asked with a polite smile.
"I'll see," Winky answered coldly before shutting the door.
Harry straightened his tie as he waited in the hall. A few seconds later, the door opened widely
"It's alright," Winky told him.
Harry rushed past the elf and quickly made his way to the living room. "Hello Hermione," he said.
Though Hermione and Ron had obviously been waiting for him, his delighted smile of greeting brought no answering smile to either of their faces. Rather, they wore the look of people anxious to have an unpleasant duty over with. Then Ron takes a step forward. But this was not the helpful, encouraging Ron he had talked to in his room just this morning. Not that he was unfriendly. He was simply as formally courteous as though Harry was a slight acquaintance.
"Harry, I want you to talk to my lawyer," Hermione pointed to Ron.
"Your lawyer?" he asked, puzzled, "What lawyer?"
"Hermione has asked me to represent her in this matter Harry," Ron answered pleasantly.
"Oh? What for?" Harry inquired amusingly, sitting down on the armrest of the couch.
"I've been telling her she doesn't need a lawyer," he explained.
Harry chuckled, "I'll say she doesn't."
"She just told me all about it," Ron continued, "As I understand the facts of the case, you two aren't married at all."
"There you are," Hermione said.
"What?" Harry's completely bewildered look went first to Hermione, standing there as impersonally as though she were merely witnessing a play, then back to Ron again.
"So there's nothing for the court to decide," he finished.
"This happened before in Peterson vs. Peterson, and Fudge even threw it out of the Wizengamot," Hermione added with an air of superiority.
"Say, what's the matter with you?" Harry demanded blankly.
"Ron said that you're lucky this isn't the south of the United States and I'm not his sister," Hermione contributed, in her cool remote voice. She then took a seat on the couch.
Harry glared over at Ron, "Why, you hillbilly ambulance chaser!" he shouted.
"Now, there's no need to lose our tempers," Ron observed, unruffled.
"We're married, if not legally, then by common law, that's just as good. It's better!" Harry retorted.
"Ohh, I don't deny there's a kind of common law relationship between the two of you," Ron told him.
Hermione is in rapture as she witnessed the exchange between them, "Tell him the whole thing Ron."
Fingers together, as though he were addressing a jury, Ron went on, "However, the woman has given the benefit of any difficulty arising out of such relationship. For instance, should you die, as a wife; she is entitled a share of the husband's estate."
"That's great," Harry said facetiously, "When I die, she'll get the furniture!"
"Now, you are entitled to hold yourself forth as the husband."
"I am holding myself forth as the husband!" Harry yelled out, "I wish you tell me something I don't know!"
"Should the woman care to hail this relationship and marry someone else, she is entitled to do so," he cited with unstressed lucidity.
"You are suppose to be my best friend," Harry said bitterly, "and you tell her a thing like that!"
"Harry, now, I have never taken advantage of our friendship by word or deed," Ron answered with dignity, "And it is only because you're standing here that I can now ask Hermione---" he cleared his throat and walked over to Hermione, giving a courtly bow, "Would you care have dinner with me tomorrow?"
For the first time, animation touched Hermione's face, "Where?" she asked delightedly.
Harry's voice roughed with jealous resentment, cut into her words, "I'm asking you, Hermione, to come to your senses and marry me tomorrow!" he said tersely placing himself between her and Ron, "If you have dinner with him tomorrow night, this is final! We're through!"
Hermione didn't even pay him the courtesy of answering directly. Instead, she turned her enchanting smile to Ron by looking over Harry's shoulder, "What time?"
"We're through," Harry repeated, walking off, "from now on, we're just friends."
"Not necessary," Hermione retorted, "The Stork club alright?" she asked Ron on a silvery note of anticipation.
Harry's mouth went suddenly young and hard, and his hands made a gesture of breaking something in two.
"Anywhere you say," Ron beamed.
Harry marched angrily to the door. He noticed that the heavy door chain was the kind held in place by a slot at each end. As Ron and Hermione were saying their goodbyes to each other, he unostentatiously removed the chain from both slots and slipped it into his own pocket.
"I'll call for you at eight o clock," Ron said to her.
"That would be fine," she replied, "Good night Ron."
"Good night Hermione," Ron walked to the door, just behind Harry.
Harry opened the door nonchalantly, "Good night Hermione," he said before stepping outside.
The two men stood outside waiting for the lift. Harry examined him with disgust, thinking how he had been betrayed once more by one of those ingenious inspirations of his that always seemed so brilliant to him at the time. Ron swayed back and forth nervously trying to avoid his gaze. Harry stared at him throughout the entire time on the lift. They walked side by side together out the front door.
"Comparing yourself with O'Hare as a Quidditch player," Harry snarled, "You couldn't carry O'Hare's water bucket!"
"Goodbye Harry," Ron said simply before heading off in one direction.
After he and Ron had separated at the front door, Harry discreetly walked around the block twice, the re-entered the apartment building where he held an earnest conversation with the lift operator. A second later, a few galleons changed hands, and the boy was taking him up to Hermione's flat.
Harry gestured the boy to ring the doorbell.
"Who is it?" Hermione's voice called out.
"Oh Mrs. Potter? Could I see you for moment please?" the boy answered as instructed.
"Just a minute," she responded as she started unlocking the door.
As the lift operator left, Harry maneuvered himself so that his shoulder would be ready to shove the door back to its full width as soon as Hermione opened it. But the position he was inadvertently caught in was not the strategic one that he planned. Hermione opened the door sooner than he had expected and upon seeing him, she slammed the door with such force and suddenness that, in the position he was in, he received the full impact of it, agonizingly across his nose.
Harry gently covered his nose with his hand, trying not to think about the pain. As he turned away, Hermione opened the door slightly calling out "Good night dear."
He turned to face her.
"Your nose is bleeding," Hermione added with vicious sweetness. With that, she closed the door firmly, and locked it.
Dum Dum Dum. Things are still not looking good for Harry. What will he do now? Stay tuned!