A/N: Thank you all for your reviews. Eager to hear your thoughts. Please continue with them! I hope you enjoy the first real Harry/Hermione interaction.

Chapter Three: Love: Reality or Myth?

Harry was just about to leave his office when the phone on his desk began to ring. He had left the reception early to finish off some last minute sketches for the Daily Prophet. It was nearly midnight. "Hello?" he answered, "Oh, hello Meg."

"Harry," Mrs. Granger said, sounding distressed, "Hermione isn't home yet. Where do you think she could be?"

"She's probably still at the party," he told her, "I'm sure she's fine."

"But it's nearly midnight," she replied, "The party was over hours ago. Won't you try and find her Harry? I'm getting worried."

"Sure I'll try Meg," said Harry, "I'll try. But if I do find her, what do I say?" He continued to listen as he struggled to put his cloak on, "Yeah, but look! I'm nobody to tell people when to go home," he said, "I don't even know when to go home myself!" Harry reasoned, not exactly wanting to be on the path of Hermione's wrath, "She's going to be in a tough mood. She won't want to listen to any of this big brother stuff, or any lectures." He added, "And I'm not so hot when it comes to that." Harry was about to list some more reasons on why he shouldn't go when he heard Mrs. Granger sobbing over the telephone. Finally he sighed, "It will be alright Meg," he assured her, "Don't worry. I'll find her."

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An hour later, Harry walked into the Leaky Cauldron. Right away, he spotted a familiar figure with bushy brown hair slumped at the bar.

"Hello!" Harry greeted merrily, as he sat down next to her.

Hermione glanced at him, her eyes squinting, "Hello," she propped herself up on the stool.

"You're a pretty good barfly Hermione," he grinned, "What are you drinking?"

"Alone," she grunted, barely keeping her eyes open, "Do you mind?"

"No, I'll just have a quick one and go," he replied with a cheerful disposition. He turned to the barkeep, "How's the firewhiskey holding up Tom?"

"Well, they're still making it," said Tom.

Harry nodded, "Make it high."

Tom looked at the two of them amusingly before going off to retrieve the order. Meanwhile, Harry turned his attention back to Hermione. "Congratulations," he told her.

"Huh?" she looked at him confusingly.

"You had a pretty close call," Harry smiled, "Had me worried for a minute."

"Worried about what?" she asked, "You think I was going to cave?"

Tom returned and placed a tall glass filled with firewhiskey in front of Harry.

"Oh, don't be dumb," he said, shaking his head, "I'm congratulating you because you almost won that guy." He took a sip of his drink, "And didn't."

"What ARE you talking about?" Hermione asked again.

"What a fancy marriage THAT would've been," he remarked facetiously.

"You don't like Ron, is that it?" she stated plainly for him. "Well, why don't you say so?" She looked down at the empty glass in front of her.

"I have nothing against the lad," he explained, "But the kid has no money." Harry took another sip, "What would you have lived on? I ask you." He paused for a second, "Your mother. I've answered you."

"Would you like to know something?" Hermione said with a look of determination, "When Ron comes back, I'll be waiting for him." She lowered her eyes.

"Ah, now you're talking lassie," Harry replied in a patronizing way, "And listen, he doesn't need any guardian. He'll get a nice piece of change all for himself. Leave it to him. Sure! What can be sweeter? It's made to order." He gulped down the rest of his drink.

Hermione glared at him disapprovingly, "I don't like you." She sighed, "I don't know why mother does."

Harry tilted his head, pretending to look hurt, "Don't you think I have any charm?"

"No, I don't," she muttered, looking away, "But mother always had a fancy for no account people. Look at father."

"Now don't tell me your old man isn't charming," he said.

"Yes he is," Hermione told him bitterly, "But he's no account, just the same. He married mother, lost all her money for her and then walked out on her."

"And your great love Ron?" Harry mentioned, "Isn't he a little bit no account from that viewpoint too?"

With all the emotions running through her, Hermione couldn't take it anymore. She broke down into tears, "Harry, will you let up on me?" she cried, "I'm almost crazy."

Harry felt awful watching her cry. He was afraid he might have gone too far this time. Tom, who also witnessed their little scene, gave them a sympathetic look and placed an entire bottle of wine in front of them.

He caressed her arm gently in an attempt to comfort her, "Look, I know you're having a tough time Hermione," he told her sincerely, "I was at the wedding. I saw you from a front seat." He recalled, frowning, "I heard what you said too. 'Anything I ever hope for never comes true.'" He paused for a minute. "If I had been Ronald Weasley at that moment, I'm afraid I would've picked you up and walked away with you." Harry added, "But Mr. Weasley won't forget that. No, you left your calling card lassie." He flashed an assuring smile, "You brought the curtain down and you've got him thinking plenty."

Hermione stopped crying as she listened. "Still, love lost today," Harry continued, "So I know you're suffering, Hermione. I know its not good to say I don't think love is worth suffering for. Not the kind of love I've seen isn't," he said, shaking his head, "All I've seen is the kind that's all around us. For me, the real thing grows on too high on a tree for us to reach it. On the highest branch," he told her sagaciously, "And I've seen a lot of jumping up and down underneath the tree. But very few that knew what they were jumping for."

Hermione stayed very quiet. After a few seconds of awkward silence, Harry grabbed the bottle in front of them. "However, there's always the grape that can be reached," he announced while filling up their glasses, "And while I believe wine is for the victors and not for drowning sorrows as it's so popularly thought. Still, anything touch by the sun has kindness," he slid the full glass in front of her, "So, lets get a little bit tight." Harry raised his own glass and gestured Hermione to do the same. "That's better than mooning alone behind walls," he told her, "So you won't hear razzing of love from Harry. Instead, we'll drink to it. If there really is such a thing." Hermione smiled gratefully and picked up her glass. Clinking their glasses together, Harry cheered, "Here's to love."

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