"But you have always.. I mean I have always.. Of course your name is Harry. It says so right here on your card." Ron tapped the calling card Harry had once handed him.
"In town it is Harry, but in the country I am James. The wand case was given to me in the country." Harry replied a little strained. "Does that satisfy you?"
"Well yes I suppose," Ron began. "Dash it all no old man it does not, for it doesn't answer why your dear little old aunt calls you uncle. Come on old boy you had better have it out."
Harry took on the appearance of one trying patiently to explain the why's and wherefore's of manners to a petulant child.
"You talk as though a dentist Ron. I find it singularly vulgar to talk as one, when one is not. It gives a false impression."
"Well is that not what a dentist always does. It does not signify anyway, out with it I say. If you must know I have always secretly thought you a confirmed Lupinist."
"What in the gracious name of Gryffindor, is a Lupinist?"
"Ah ah ahh. That I will reveal as soon as you tell me about why you are Harry in town and James in the country."
"My wand case first."
Ron handed the case to Harry, and seated himself upon the settee. "An explanation if you please, and pray do make it improbable."
"Well you are to be disappointed, for if anything the explanation is quite ordinary. Old Mr Lovegood, who adopted me as a boy, made me in his will guardian to his grand daughter Miss Luna Lovegood. Luna, who refers to me as uncle, merely as a token of respect, something which you could not possibly understand, lives at my place in the country under the admirable care of her governess Miss Sprout."
"Oh and where is this place in the country?"
"None of your concern, for you are not to be invited."
Ron cocked the other eyebrow. "Yes, but why are you Harry in town and James in the country?"
"As a guardian, you are to be above reproach. It's ones duty to be so. As a high moral tone is neither conducive to one's health or happiness, I have found it necessary to have a younger brother in town. His name is Harry, and he gets himself into the most deplorable scrapes."
Ron swung his leg in a nonchalant manner. "As I thought a Lupinist. I know that I am quite right in saying so, in fact you are the most advanced Lupinist I know."
Harry returned a blank stare. "I have no idea what you could possibly mean."
Ron rose from his seat and crossed to the table. He picked up the empty plate. "Bother! Where were we? Oh yes, Lupining. You have invented a reckless brother so that you may come to town. I have invented an invaluable soul, though sad to say he is an invalid, with no hope of recovery I might add. Indeed if it weren't for Lupin's extraordinarily bad health, I would be unable to join you at Madame Rosmerta's tonight, for I have been engaged to Aunt Minerva for more than a week."
"Well then I shall not detain from so important an occasion, you would be best going."
Ron put the plate down, and looked incredulously at Harry. "I will do no such thing, why I was there Monday and once a week is quite enough. In any case I should find myself seated next to Pansy Malfoy, who flirts with her own husband. It's absolutely scandalous I tell you, the number of married women who flirt with their own husbands. Besides now that I know you are a confirmed Lupinist I naturally want to talk to you about Lupining. If you are to carry it off you must know the rules."
Harry took on a haughty air. "I am not a Lupinist, I tell you. Should Hermione take me as hers, Harry is for the chop. I very much fear that Luna is a shade too interested him also. No Harry must go, and I strongly advise you kill off your Mr...your invalid friend with the absurd name."
"And why should I wish to do that. Indeed, since it is extremely problematic that you should marry, then Lupin could prove an invaluable acquaintance. A man who marries without knowing Lupin I fear shall face a very tedious time of it."
"I will have no need of a Lupin, when married to a girl as sweet as Hermione."
"Oh well then your wife will, it is three not two who are company in a marriage."
"You are far too cynical Ron."
"Have it your way old man."
Dobby passed through the room.
"What is it Dobby?"
"I hear tapping at the front door sir."
"It must be Aunt Minerva and cousin Hermione, you'd best let them in."
The crestfallen elf cast a look as much to say 'if I must', and made his way to the door.
The tapping became louder; breaking it's way through Hermione's unconscious state. Groggily she rose from her bed and sought the source of the noise. Reaching her window she saw Pig, Ron's owl, waiting entry. The mad featherbrained creature darted about the room twittering.
"Pig, stop it!" Hermione cried. "Now for heavens sake come here so I can get that letter."
Finally able to relieve the bird of its post, Hermione presented the bird with an owl treat and water.
"Are you staying or going Pig?"
The owl took off on another mad dash around the room.
"In the name of all that is sacred." Started Hermione crossly. "Will you make up your mind, I'm not going to stand here with the window open, waiting for you all night."
The owl did one more loop and then settled on the owl stand that Hermione had bought for the times when Hedwig or Pig came and stayed.
Hermione tossed a look at the ceiling. Muttering about the stupidity of small owls, she closed the window and climbed back into bed. The letter from Ron would have to wait until morning; she was too tired to read it now. Closing her eye's Hermione drifted back to sleep. Hermione groaned as she found herself once again in the drawing room with a smug looking Ron, and a nervous Harry. She watched helplessly as a disgruntled Dobby led a prim mouthed Aunt Minerva, and an exquisitely dressed Hermione in to the two gentlemen waiting within. Hermione smiled in her sleep as she watched Harry stand, and fidget, in the vain attempt to appear cool and collected.
"Good afternoon Ron, I hope you are behaving well."
A/n – well I shall leave it there for tonight. Thanks to those who reviewed. I can only hope that this addition is as much to your liking as the first was.