Disclaimer: Hold now wait a minute – y'all thought I was finished? Also I don't own Harry Potter but the Dreams and Nightmares reference is more important to me right now.
Chapter 51
It was Harry Potter's fourteenth birthday. It had literally begun with a bang when Tonks kicked his bedroom door down and hollered "Happy birthday!" as loud as she could while hitting him with a pillow. After an enormous breakfast of French toast and fruit prepared by Sirius himself (the Muggle way, no less!) Harry had opened his gifts from his godfather, Tonks, Lupin, and everyone from school who had mailed him his presents.
Lupin had gifted him several advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts books, including one detailing the lives of the most powerful members of the Dark Forces Defense League, including Albus Dumbledore and several Aurors he had never heard of but was eager to learn about. Tonks had gifted him a wand holster that lashed around his wrist, and with a simple motion of his hand it would float out of its secure position into his waiting hand, ready for battle. It was loads better than his pants pocket.
Sirius had given him two photo albums – one dedicated solely to the Marauders, and one featuring pictures he and others had taken of his parents over the years. Harry spent almost the entire morning flipping through the pages and smiling to himself at the sight of his parents and their friends when they were at Hogwarts. He spent a long time tracing the edge of one particular photograph – one where his father was fast asleep during class next to his mother. His heart almost stopped as Lily Evans subtly put down her quill and planted a quick kiss on the tip of James Potter's nose before resuming her note-taking.
His friends had sent him a variety of gifts – lots of sweets, some Quidditch books, some vouchers for all kinds of stores in Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade, and the Weasley twins sent him some fireworks and some sweets in wrappers labeled 'Weasley's Wizard Wheezes'. He knew better than to ingest anything invented by Fred and George Weasley and decided to leave them on his bedside table untouched.
Now, however, Harry Potter was standing in front of his bathroom mirror, anxiously running his hands through his hair and muttering useless words of encouragement to himself. After a pleasant lunch of takeout burgers he, Tonks, Sirius, and Lupin had enjoyed on the roof while the adults recounted their favorite memories of Harry, he was now getting ready for his birthday dinner. Sirius had helped him pick out a suit. Well, actually, Harry had picked it out of a catalogue and Sirius had it custom tailored to fit Harry perfectly. It was jet-black, like his hair, and he had paired it with an emerald tie that matched his eyes. Harry couldn't help but wonder if this is what he would look like if McGonagall transfigured him into a suit.
"Nervous?" Tonks leaned against the doorframe and waggled her pink eyebrows.
"A bit," Harry admitted, not looking away from the mirror as he fiddled with his tie. "It's just…Sirius went a bit over the top, don't you think? Isn't this place one of the fanciest, one of the most expensive restaurants in the city? I just feel like I'm not going to know how to act."
"Well, first of all, you shouldn't be nervous. I mean this in a perfectly appropriate and sisterly way – you look good. You should wear suits more often," Tonks smirked at Harry's blush but pressed on. "Besides the fact that you'll probably be the best-looking bloke in the building – "
"Tonks, please."
"Besides that," she snickered, "who are you going to be enjoying your birthday dinner with?"
"Hermione," Harry cracked a smile at that.
"And who else?"
"Nobody else. Just the two of us."
"Precisely," Tonks leaned forward and ruffled his hair, to which Harry growled and swatted her hand away. "True or false: Hermione Granger is the person in the world you feel the most comfortable with?"
"True," Harry nodded slowly, adjusting his pocket square before finally turning to face the Auror in the doorway.
"You'll be with Hermione. Don't let the glitziness of the restaurant detract from the fact that you are probably about to have a nice, pleasant dinner with your girlfriend that you are completely head-over-heels for."
"Hey!"
"And for what it's worth, this is the first birthday of yours that Sirius is going to be around for. He's got thirteen of them to make up for, so I'd cut him some slack on booking you a table at a restaurant where the cheapest thing on the menu is probably a month's rent for me," Tonks winked, punching Harry on the shoulder in a teasing manner. Harry nodded in agreement and gave another smile. "Still nervous?"
"Not so much," Harry grinned, "thanks."
"Anytime," She shrugged. "By the way, if you want Hermione to lose her mind in a good way, do this."
She suddenly walked towards Harry and stood next to him, facing the same direction. She placed her hand lightly on his back and guided him out of the bathroom and towards the staircase. They paused at the landing and Tonks looked at him expectantly.
"Just…walk next to her?" Harry asked, befuddled. Tonks rolled her eyes and mumbled something about "Boys" before shaking her head.
"Obviously you didn't feel anything because we're not, you know, like that – "
"Ugh, gross!"
"Oi, you'd be so lucky!" Tonks punched Harry in the shoulder particularly hard, causing them both to laugh at themselves. "As I was saying, you felt nothing because you don't feel any sort of attraction to me, right?"
"As I said, gross."
"You're such a prat," Tonks pinched the bridge of her nose. "As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, Hermione is very much attracted to you. Very much. So, trust me, just put your hand on her lower back and sort of guide her towards your table when you walk in the restaurant. She'll love it."
"Okay, weirdo," Harry raised his eyebrows but nodded. "Oh, and, thanks again for the holster, by the way." He held his arm out at a ninety-degree angle as if he were going to check the time on his watch, then flicked his other hand and grinned as his wand levitated from its holster beneath his shirt and jacket sleeves into his waiting fingers. "I'm gonna hex so many Slytherins with this."
"Absolutely not!" Tonks warned him before looking around and throwing him a wink. "The Horn-Tongue Hex is my personal favorite," she whispered. Harry smirked and nodded before they headed downstairs, and Harry returned his wand to his holster. Sirius and Lupin were both waiting for them in the entrance hall. The former was looking particularly smug while the latter leaned against the wall and read the Daily Prophet.
"There's my godson! Excited?" Sirius grinned, clapping Harry on the shoulder as he reached the main floor. "Of course you're excited. Now, do you remember what I taught you?"
"Always throw fireworks at a safe distance from your target?" Harry chuckled.
"What?" Sirius blinked. "No, I meant treat her with respect, you tosspot."
Lupin couldn't resist an amused smile as he folded up his newspaper and stood up straight. "Enjoy yourself tonight, Harry. I'll be gone by the time you get back, so happy birthday, and good night."
"Thanks, Professor."
"Remus, Harry."
"Or Moony," Sirius winked before throwing his fellow Marauder an elbow.
"Have fun, you little prat," Tonks enveloped Harry in a quick hug before stepping back and ruffling his hair one time. "I'll be gone too, so good night and stuff. And remember what I taught you."
Harry nodded and grinned before turning to his godfather. "Are we Apparating?"
"Oh, you know it," Sirius laughed, clapping Harry on the shoulder once again and gripping him tight. "Brace yourself."
CRACK
Harry and Sirius were no longer standing in the entrance hall of 12 Grimmauld Place. Instead, they were in a small alley between a couple of very elegant-looking buildings. Sirius led Harry towards the main street just ahead and motioned towards the structure towards their left – La Joliesse.
"So, I've heard that the braised duck is the best thing on the menu, but I know you're partial to Steak Frites, and I've heard good things about that as well," Sirius pulled his godson into a quick hug. "Hermione's parents are swinging by Grimmauld Place at nine sharp to pick her up, so if you aren't done by eight-forty five I'll pop over here and ask the hostess to get you two to wrap up."
"How will you know if we're done?" Harry asked with genuine curiosity.
"This very fancy café across the street is open until eleven and I am going to inhale several espressos and think about just how proud of my godson that I am," He stepped back from the hug but kept his hands on Harry's shoulders. "I really am proud of you, you know. I wish I could have been there more in your life, but you've turned into an exceptional young man nonetheless. And I'm honored to be part of your life now."
"Now you're just laying it on thick…" Harry mumbled, averting his eyes and blushing. Sirius responded by ruffling his hair affectionately and shooing him off towards the restaurant. Harry grinned again and made his way towards the ornate doors of the building and slipping inside. There were a few people sitting in the waiting area: a couple who seemed particularly engrossed in each other and a young woman with wavy brown hair reading through a scarlet leather book. He walked up to the hostess and tried to not sound as nervous as he felt, being the only teenager in the incredibly-expensive looking establishment.
"Hi, I have a reservation for two under Potter?"
"Ah," the hostess smiled, "I was worried you were going to keep her waiting."
She pointed behind Harry, and his heart slowed to a standstill as he turned and locked eyes with the young woman who had been reading when he walked in.
It was Hermione. Her notoriously bushy brown hair had been tamed with what must have been a generous amount of Sleekeazy's, as it was now fell in waves that framed her stunningly beautiful face. She stood up and Harry's knees almost buckled as she closed the book she had brought with her and lowered it.
It was a red dress, a few shades darker than the crimson one she had worn in Cannes the summer prior. It was the same color as the wine that Lupin preferred over Firewhiskey…what was it called again? Merlot, he reminded himself. The dress was the color of Merlot, and just like the beverage it had an intoxicating effect. The sleeves were wrapped around her upper arms, leaving her shoulders and a few inches of skin just below them completely exposed, and it took Harry a few seconds to pry his eyes away from that flawless bit of skin to meet her eyes.
"You look beautiful…" He could barely croak out the words, but Hermione managed to hear him nonetheless. She beamed at him, blushing quite a bit as she stepped closer to him. He realized she was the same height as him, which was a bit jarring – he usually had about an inch or two on her. Had she grown that much in just a couple of weeks?
He glanced down and saw that she was wearing high heels, something he'd never seen on her before. He dragged his eyes up, past her legs – where his mouth went rather dry – past where the dress ended just above her knees, up over her torso and meeting her eyes once again.
"Heels?" He asked rather lamely, not trusting himself to form a complete sentence. He could barely keep his thoughts off of Hermione's exposed shoulders, much less formulate anything coherent.
"My mum had heard of this restaurant," she explained, biting her lip and glancing down at her shoes, "and she said that every woman who walks in here wears heels. I feel rather ridiculous, though. I wish I could just wear some trainers or even a nice pair of flats."
"You don't look ridiculous at all. You're the prettiest girl in the whole building," Harry told her in the most reassuring voice he could muster. She broke into another dazzling smile before pecking him on the cheek.
"Your table, Mister Potter?" The hostess asked from behind Harry. He turned with a blush and nodded, realizing they'd left the woman waiting rather awkwardly. "Follow me," She said with a knowing smile. Harry remembered Tonks's advice and prayed to every deity he could think of that she hadn't been messing with him.
Tentatively, he placed his hand on Hermione's lower back as they walked along behind the hostess. She shivered at his touch, and he almost jerked his hand away, but then she let out a purr so quiet it was almost drowned out by the faint din of the other patrons of the restaurant. Harry smiled to himself and kept his hand on Hermione's back all the way to their table on the second floor of the restaurant, even catching sight of the feral look she got in her eyes whenever she was about to pounce on him and bombard him with kisses.
He smirked, any trace of nervousness in his body melting away as he and Hermione took their seats at a table for two by one of the many opulent windows that offered a view of London's skyline as well as the chic street below them, featuring art galleries, other fancy restaurants, and a few boutiques.
"This really is quite nice…" Hermione mused as she gazed out the window, a dreamy smile on her face. Harry just stared at her, basking in her beauty for a bit before finding the strength to turn his attention towards his menu. "Oh, here, before we order anything!" Hermione suddenly snapped out of her daze and turned to Harry, her eyes twinkling with anticipation. She handed him the scarlet book that she had placed in her lap once they sat down. "It's your birthday present. And my mum and dad wanted me to let you know that they're sending their gifts by Muggle post."
"You got me a book," Harry couldn't help but smirk as he took the leather volume in his hands. "Shocking."
"Shut up," She blushed, nudging his foot with hers under the table. "I almost didn't want to give it to you because I've been doing nothing but reading it for the past few days, but…here you go."
"Well, I don't want to separate you from something you love so much, maybe I should – "
"Oh, honestly, Harry, just open it!" Hermione rolled her eyes but cracked an amused smile of her own. Harry shrugged and obliged, blinking in surprise as he opened the first page and saw his own handwriting.
"Is this…" He trailed off as he flipped through the pages of his newest book, his eyes widening in surprise and delight. "Are these all of our letters?"
"Every one. There's almost sixty of them!" Hermione beamed at him, looking particularly proud of her gift based on his reaction. "I kept all the ones you sent me and I made duplicates of the ones I sent you. They're all there. I know it's no sapphire necklace," she motioned to her pendant that Harry could clearly see considering her dress stopped well below her shoulders, "but I thought you would enjoy it."
"I love it, Hermione. It's perfect."
She blushed once again but gave him a radiant smile that turned his brain into a useless lump of putty. "I'm glad."
After they ordered their food, Harry proceeded to flip through the booklet, pointing out his favorite excerpts from their summer correspondence and allowing Hermione to do the same.
"Now this is one letter that I'm rather fond of, at least this section here," Harry smirked before raising his voice an octave in a terrible impression of Hermione Granger: "Parvati wrote to me this morning, asking how I was doing and if you and I were still together despite not living in the same building," Harry threw Hermione a wink before continuing, "and she also mentioned something interesting from her Divination summer assignment. I know, Divination is pointless and we shouldn't bother with it at all, but I think I quite like this. Apparently, in Divination – and most cultures as well – a hippogriff is a symbol of love. I found it rather interesting, and I thought you would as well."
He glanced up from the letter and saw that Hermione's cheeks now matched her dress. "You aren't very subtle, are you?"
"I just meant it was a good sign, that's all! You know, for us…" She squeaked, ducking her head in an unsuccessful attempt to hide her embarrassment. Harry just laughed to himself before leaning across the table and planting a quick kiss on the crown of her head.
"And it was adorable."
"Shut up," She mumbled, but she lifted her head and beamed at him. "What other letters do you like?" She asked rather hopefully. Harry returned the smile and dove back into the gift in front of him.
"Well, let's see. Ah, here we are, this is actually something I wrote, but – "
"Ooh, I'll read it!" Hermione practically snatched the book out of his hand and skimmed the page it was open to. "Ah, I think I know which part you're talking about." She threw him a sly look before clearing her throat, lowering her speaking voice several octaves in a horrible impression of Harry: "Tonks and Sirius keep asking me really annoying questions about you and I. Not anything gross, thankfully. Well, except the time Tonks asked me if we'd snogged, and before I could even open my mouth she was giggling like mad. Apparently I have a really bad poker face, so don't let me gamble any time soon." She paused her dramatic reading and turned to Harry, returning her voice to normal. "You really do have a bad poker face, you know."
"It's not that bad!" Harry insisted. "It was just…Tonks is an Auror, she has to be able to read people for getting information out of them and stuff."
"Oh, it's not that bad?" Hermione challenged with an impish smile. "Let's see…do you ever dream about me?"
"Yes." It was such an automatic response Hermione could only blink in surprise. He gave a smug smile as he crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. "See? I don't need a bad poker face if I never lie to you."
Hermione just rolled her eyes before her roguish expression returned. "When you dream about me, what does it entail?"
"Just us being together. Sometimes we're walking by the lake. Sometimes we're in the common room. Sometimes we're studying in the library." He still had yet to lie to her, but his selective withholding of information was forcing a blush to creep up on his cheeks.
"Oh?" Hermione leaned forward. "What are we studying in the library in your dreams?" Harry didn't answer, already knowing that his face was betraying him. "A-ha! Perhaps we're studying…anatomy?" She waggled her eyebrows.
"Why don't you just keep reading," Harry said weakly, to which Hermione gave a coy smile before resuming her dreadful impression of her boyfriend.
"Anyway, today Sirius asked me if I have ever noticed that if you and I got married we would have the same initials, assuming you took my last name. I hadn't thought about that, because according to some very reliable sources, I am exceptionally dense. But now it's very difficult to think about much else besides HJP times two."
"Yeah…" Harry blushed. "Alright, I guess we're even in terms of embarrassing letter excerpts."
"I'll have you know I found that to be adorable," She nudged his foot under the table with hers. "HJP times two…I do quite like that. Hermione Jane Potter..."
"Okay, okay! I get it! I'm already embarrassed enough…" Harry grumbled, burying his face in his hands. "I'm going to kill Sirius."
"For what it's worth, Harry, I've been thinking about us having the same initials once we got married since long before we started dating."
"What?" Harry snapped his head up, his shame replaced by sheer shock.
"Anyway, I want to show you some of my favorite bits from our letters and see how you like them," Hermione just smiled at him, clearly amused by his sudden change in mood. Harry was still trying to process what she'd just told him but she pressed on nonchalantly. "Let's see, here's one you wrote to me fairly early…" She took a sip of water to heal her vocal cords before returning to her Batman-esque voice that was supposed to resemble Harry's. "Tonks keeps pestering me for details about you. She's really excited to meet you whenever you come to visit, but for now she's settling for peppering me with all kinds of questions. I'm fairly certain Arithmancy is your favorite subject even if you've never actually told me so," she flashed Harry a thumbs-up and he let out a sigh of relief, "and I know your favorite sweet is Sugar Quills, even if you won't ever admit that to your parents."
"I'm right, aren't I?" Harry asked. Hermione nodded with a warm smile before returning to the letter.
"I told her your favorite book of all time is Hogwarts: A History, but even Malfoy knows that," she paused to gag before continuing, "but I'm not certain as to what your favorite movie is. I rattled off a few – Murder on the Orient Express, Citizen Kane, and The Wizard of Oz among some others."
"Did I guess your favorite one?" Harry asked expectantly.
"I actually don't really have a favorite movie," Hermione admitted with a shrug. "It's hard to compare something as carefree and pleasant as The Wizard of Oz to something so deep and thought-provoking like Citizen Kane. I choose to just enjoy films rather than rank them."
"So your favorite movie is A Few Good Men. Got it," Harry pretended to write that down on an invisible notepad, to which Hermione stuck her tongue out at him. "Seriously, though? That's one of your favorite letters of mine?"
"It was cute," She explained, eliciting a blush from Harry. "It sounded so much like you, how uncertain you were of my favorite class and trying to guess my favorite movie. You were very sweet."
"Oh…thanks?" He said timidly, to which Hermione beamed at him. Before they could launch into another fragment of one of their letters, the waiter arrived with their first course – they had each ordered the Bouillabaisse. Much to Harry's surprise, Hermione actually finished her bowl before he did, and as a result, he was subjected to something rather familiar.
"Ugh, I was hoping you'd forget…" Harry groaned as Hermione nonchalantly extracted a spoonful of Harry's soup from his bowl.
"About the Girlfriend Tax? Never!" She giggled before downing her bit of soup. "Mmm…yours tastes so much better than mine."
"Yes, the thievery adds a bit of extra flavor," Harry rolled his eyes but otherwise made no effort to stop his date from stealing a few more bits of his soup. "You can have the rest if you want."
He pushed his bowl towards Hermione, whose eyes widened in delight before quickly polishing off the rest. "Thank you, Harry! I was so busy preparing for tonight that I hardly ate any lunch."
"Really?" Harry raised his eyebrows in surprise, but his tone was laced with concern. "That doesn't sound very healthy."
"Oh, you're so sweet, Harry," She blushed before taking his hand. "It's fine, I was just running around a bit today to find the perfect dress. Don't you dare start worrying about me, it's my job to worry about you."
"Well, I won't lie, the dress really is perfect," Harry admitted with a slight blush of his own. "I've never seen you wear something so…I don't know how to describe it."
"Revealing?" Hermione teased. "Scandalous? Lascivious?"
"No!" Harry answered a bit too quickly. "Just…it's really quite flattering. You look very pretty in it."
"Thank you, Harry."
He squeezed her hand before letting his eyes drift down to her exposed shoulders once again, his breath hitching.
"It's rude to stare, you know." Harry glanced up to see a familiar coy smile on her face. He knew his cheeks were flushed so red they might be permanently tinged pink, but he didn't care.
"With all due respect, can you blame me?" He shrugged, to which Hermione half-heartedly swatted his arm. He was saved from further explaining how blatantly he was checking out his girlfriend when their main courses arrived – Harry had gotten the Steak Frites and Hermione the braised duck.
"Oh, I forgot to tell you something rather exciting!" Hermione's eyes lit up as she swallowed a bit of duck. "So you know how I told you my parents were really on the fence about me coming with you to the Quidditch World Cup?"
"You mean how every single letter of yours," he pointed to the book on the table between them, "said something along the lines of 'Mum and dad are still thinking, but I'll let you know as soon as they make up their minds!'"
"Precisely!" Hermione grinned. "Do you want the truth?"
"Is it good news?"
"Very."
"Do tell," Harry waggled his eyebrows as he popped a chip into his mouth.
"They were fine with me going with you to the Cup the second I told them about it."
"So you wanted to be a little bit cheeky and make me sit and wait until you could tell me in person?" He narrowed his eyes at Hermione, who giggled.
"Not exactly. They were taking a long time to consider something else I'd asked them."
"Oh?" Harry pursed his lips. "And what was that?"
"Something I wrote to Sirius about. I sent the letter about the minute I got back from the mall after our date a couple weeks ago."
"Are you ever planning on telling me what this is or are you going to keep teasing me?"
"Am I really a tease?" Hermione said coquettishly, fluttering her eyelashes. "I asked if I could stay with you at Grimmauld Place for the week after the match. That way we could go to Diagon Alley and King's Cross together."
Harry dropped his fork in surprise, his heart racing in anticipation. "And?"
"They told me this morning to consider it a birthday present for you."
"Consider what?" He asked, breaking out into a giddy smile.
"They said yes!" She beamed at him, and Harry almost jumped for joy in the middle of the restaurant. "I know I probably should have told you I had asked ages ago, but I didn't want to get your hopes up and I definitely wanted to see your reaction in person and – MMPH!" She cried out as Harry leaned across the table and pressed his lips against hers, barely subduing his grin. "Mmm…" She moaned quietly as he pulled away, trembling with excitement.
"You're being serious, right?" Hermione nodded at him, still looking a bit dazed from the sudden kiss. "You aren't messing with me?" She shook her head. "You and I are going to spend a whole week together? At Grimmauld Place?"
"Harry Potter, do you ever listen to a word I say?" She giggled as she nodded.
"Hermione Granger, you are the most amazing human being to ever grace this planet," Harry whispered, still grinning from ear to ear. "What did I ever do to deserve you?"
"I could say something similar to you."
The two teenagers sat in a content silence – Harry staring in total admiration and excitement, while Hermione just beamed and tried hard not to blush at his intense – albeit elated – gaze directed solely at her.
"How are you two enjoying your meal?" The waiter practically materialized out of nowhere.
"I think everything is perfect," Harry answered, never taking his eyes off of Hermione's. "Absolutely perfect."
A/N: So, each of the last three days I have worked eight hour shifts. Kids my age usually work four or five hour shifts a couple times a week, but my fellow employees are low-key getting sick left and right, which isn't at all terrifying to me, a currently healthy person with multiple lung conditions. As a result, everyone who is healthy has had to pick up the slack in a major way. Thus, I have had very little time to write recently, and for that I am truly, truly sorry.
I hope you guys liked this little dinner scene I've been mulling over while I worked these past few days. The original draft of this chapter absolutely sucked, which delayed its publication even longer, but I'm much happier with this result. The original draft's description of Harry's new wand holster was almost as long as the entire dinner sequence, so…yeah. It sucked. But now we have this, which I very much like and I hope you guys like it as well. Next chapter is the Quidditch World Cup. Cue suspenseful music.
To all of you incredible, wonderful, immeasurably amazing people who review and follow and favorite this story, thank you for everything. In between the last chapter and this one Strangers on a Train surpassed one thousand favorites! Which was far beyond my wildest expectations. I actually dropped my phone when I checked on the story during work one day and saw that we eclipsed four digits. Seriously, thank you all for everything, it means so much to me to see that my writing resonates with you guys. I love you all, thank you so much, and stay safe!