Hi everyone!

EDIT: after a review about Harry dealing with the abuse, I edited a huge chunk of the dialogue on this chapter. I want to do the abuse Harry suffered justice and yes, this is a romcom, but not everything is to be taken lightly. Plot-wise, no big changes. Harry will comment on what's said in this chapter later on :)

I've been working as a teacher on a Summer school for a few days now, and I have been swamped, so I try to write these updates on my train ride to and from work. It takes a little longer, but I still hope you like it :)

No smut, again! Just Valentine's Day Fun. And Aunty Penelope is plotting her next scheme...

Have fun! I hope you take care. Covid-cases are rising again. Please make sure you're safe and tested. I hope you and your loved ones are well!

Love, Flora

Chapter 30: How Harry would be able to cause a family break-down after Valentine's Day (part 2)

Aunty Penelope stayed a little grumpy for the next few courses, until she turned to Harry, who had been talking animatedly with her parents. Hermione didn't like this one bit - a silent Aunty Penelope meant a plotting Aunty Penelope and that didn't bode well.

'Harry, dear,' she said, as she pulled on Uncle Eric's sleeve, 'you said something about your uncle working at Drillings?' Hermione looked on nervously - her great-aunt was up for her next move and she didn't trust the woman to be delicate. Harry was pulled out of the conversation as he looked the old lady in the eye.

'Ehh, yes. I did.'

'Is this the uncle you talked about at our first family dinner? The one who only cared for receiving your child support?'

'It's a sensitive subject,' Hermione cut in, wanting to avoid a new drama at all costs. 'I don't think Harry wants to talk about his family at a night like this.'

'Oh no, it's quite alright Hermione,' Harry said, as he squeezed her hand slightly. 'Yes, it is. I only have one uncle.'

'Really?' Uncle Eric asked, his forehead wrinkling. 'Is the man who treated you so appallingly working at my company?'

'He treated me as well as he was able,' Harry said quickly. 'I wouldn't want to cause his job and livelihood to be in jeopardy. They didn't want to adopt me. My aunt and my mother had a big falling out as young adults. It drove a wedge between them. Aunt Petunia had a lot of trouble seeing me as anything but a product of my parents.'

'That's not an excuse for treating you like that, dear,' Aunty Penelope reminded him. 'Petunia shouldn't have projected her feelings on you.'

'Let's not talk about this tonight,' Hermione tried again, looking at Harry worriedly, until her uncle interrupted her.

'Aunt Petunia? You mean - Petunia Dursley? Vernon Dursley is your uncle?'

'Are you well acquainted with him, Eric?' Aunty Penelope asked innocently. Hermione groaned. Her great-aunt had been prodding Harry to drop a name - that sly fox!

'Yes, of course! I replaced Richard Mason, his boss, a year after that disastrous dinner they had! Something with a dropped cake and a shrieking owl, it was the talk on the office floor for weeks! Wait... Don't tell me Harry - are you the deranged cousin?'

Harry chuckled, surprisingly.

'The very same.'

'No way!' Uncle Eric exclaimed. 'He always made it seem like you were... Well, crazy! He told us you went to St Brutus' Secure Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys-...'

'Alongside Hermione, indeed,' Harry snorted. 'Took them seven years to figure out she didn't belong.'

'I can't believe it,' Hermione's uncle said, throat dry. 'I gave him a promotion in my second year... We had a business dinner at his place, but Vernon insisted to postpone it until after the summer holidays... I never understood why! He was awfully sappy, by the way. My wife and I didn't like him at all, but he was the only man for the job.'

'Did he tell his Japanese golfer joke?' Harry asked.

'He did!' Uncle Eric laughed. 'It was the dullest thing I have ever heard!'

'The punchline is the worst,' Harry agreed with a broad smile. 'And he laughs every time he tells it. It's unbelievable.'

'So you went to their house?' Aunty Penelope asked eagerly. 'What was it like?'

'Lots of cushions and frill,' Uncle Eric said. 'And their son...'

'Resembled a tiny baby elephant,' Harry nodded. He was a sight to behold at that age.'

'He was getting a bit more fit already,' Eric said. 'Last time I saw him Vernon brought him to a business convention, a few years back. He lost a lot of weight!'

'Really?' Harry asked. 'Good for him.'

'You didn't know?'

'I haven't seen Dudley for a few years now,' Harry admitted. 'Haven't seen Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia since I was seventeen.'

'Really? How come?'

'Because Vernon and Petunia weren't the doting family members that they should have been,' Aunty Penelope interjected. 'That's obvious, isn't it?'

Harry looked at his aunt and playfully rolled his eyes.

'Well, if it means anything to you: I have forgiven them.'

'I haven't,' she countered immediately.

'How-,' Harry tried, but Aunty Penelope interrupted him.

'No, I haven't. I don't care how much they hated your parents, you were an innocent child. I know that you are a kind and forgiving person, my dear, and that suits you greatly. Maybe it's also easier to forgive when you were the one suffering the consequences, I don't know. But I will always feel a lot of resentment towards them.'

'I don't mean to pry,' Uncle Eric said quietly, 'and I understand if you don't feel comfortable sharing it, but what did they do? They didn't send you to that school, did they?'

'No,' Harry replied, calmly. 'Me and Hermione went to the same school. If you really want to know - it's not a fun subject to talk about, but they would deprive me from food, a proper bedroom, good clothes... My aunt used to cut my hair really awfully because she hates how it sticks out. They would make me do all the chores. Sometimes they'd hit me, if I had done something that made them really angry. You know - the standard awfulness.'

Hermione was shocked. Harry rarely talked about his early childhood, and here he was, at the dinner table, sharing those painful details openly. She held his hand, squeezed it tightly, and gave him a warm, assuring smile. Her great-aunt and uncle were silent, stunned by what they'd heard.

'Hey, it's okay!' Harry said, making light of the situation as he was used to. 'Hair grows back eventually, I learned to stand my ground. I just don't have the urge to go over for tea. And I kind of understand them - I probably wasn't an easy child. And they just didn't know what to do with someone like me.'

'You did nothing wrong - they did,' said Aunty Penelope firmly. 'Please never forget that'

'I know, Aunty, thank you. But when you know them, you'll see what I mean. They are too simple, they lack empathy, they couldn't have cared for me in the way that they should have, not even if they tried. They also ruined their own son - he was heavily obese at a young age, had a lot of anger issues, he was a mess. They should have never gotten children, to be honest with you. But that's just who they were born to be, I suppose.'

'Well, I'd be delighted to see that for myself,' Aunty Penelope said. 'Are you inviting them to your wedding?'

'We haven't thought about that,' Harry replied, shifting his eyes to Hermione. 'We're going to worry about our marriage when Philip and Lydia have said their vows.'

'I can imagine Harry doesn't want them to be a part of our big day,' Hermione tried, but Aunty Penelope had plans of her own.

'Invite them! Rub in their faces how amazing your life is, Harry! It would be the best way to get back at them. And we get to make sure to show them how important you are to us.'

'We'll see,' Harry said, smiling to Hermione. 'I think Vernon might wet himself if he knows I'm marrying Eric's niece.'

'I know something else that might... If it's not too triggering to see your uncle, I think I know a fun little way to get some innocent kind of revenge.'

'Oh?' Harry said, with interest. 'That sounds intriguing. Do tell!'

'Vernon and his team are doing a big pitch next Thursday morning for an assignment I gave them and I regularly bring in experts for a second opinion,' Eric explained. 'One extra pair of eyes wouldn't concern anyone. I'm sure you're able to fake some knowledge on the subject - it's not like anything is expected of you, just the fact that you're present there will be enough to upset your uncle, right? Oh, it's going to be hilarious!'

Hermione instantly understood how Uncle Eric and Aunty Penelope were related. They had a taste for big schemes.

'So, you're proposing that I act as some expert on drill sales just to get back at my uncle?'

'Just to get back at the fat bastard, yes,' Aunty Penelope smiled. 'That sounds like innocent fun, right?'

'If there's one place Vernon wont expect you, it's at Uncle Eric's firm, Harry,' Hermione said.

'The element of surprise...' Harry pondered. 'You know what, that sounds really interesting. It would be like beating him at his own game in a way - he always said I would never amount to anything. And I don't have any plans for coming Thursday morning anyway. I just need to pick up my godson at half past 2. I might as well have some fun, right?'

'Right!' Aunty Penelope chirped. Hermione laughed.

'You're sure about it, Harry?' Hermione asked, looking out for his well-being, but he truly seemed at ease.

'Yes. Yes, I think I am.'

'Oh, I'm looking forward to this!' Uncle Eric said, rubbing his hands. 'I always knew that Vernon was a two-faced bastard. I can't wait to see him squirm!'

'Me neither,' Harry said, grinning more and more each second. 'This is going to be good fun! Man, great things happen when you get fired!'

After that, the dinner went swimmingly. Harry seemed a lot more confident than she had seen before - this confidence wasn't forced or faked, it was real, and her uncle and favorite great-aunt were the reason for it. His smile met his eyes, his laughter bubbled from his belly, his stance spoke of ease. Hermione felt herself even more drawn to Harry, a feeling she was used to since she was 12, but the fact that she was allowed the butterflies in her stomach, that she was allowed to lace her fingers through his, that she was allowed to kiss the slight stubble on his chin - it made her feel like the luckiest girl alive. Harry looked amazing in his standard tux, of which he had Transfigured the bow to be a deep red for the occasion. It matched the color of her dress and compared stunningly to the rose he wore on his jacket. Hermione wondered if he would look just as stunning on their wedding day. After all, they didn't "act engaged" right now - this was who they were, with their family, and it wasn't so different from what their relationship actually was. Maybe, soon, if she had the guts, it would actually turn into a real engagement, and before they knew it...

Oh Merlin, she was thinking about "their wedding day" again! Hadn't she decided that she didn't want to marry Harry just yet? She was acting like Lavender and Parvati! Irrational, with her heart and not her head - please Hermione, get a grip!

On the other hand - one daydream wouldn't hurt, would it? How would she look on that day? Definitely not like Lydia - no pink, no frill, no squeaking peacocks, no enormous skirt or floof. Lace? Possibly. She always wanted to wear a somewhat grander dress, but being girly had never been something that her parents or she herself had encouraged. Still, some skirt would be nice, to make her feel regal and special for one of the most beautiful days of her life...

She pictured herself in a nice, white, embroidered dress with sleeves and a delicate veil, as her father led her towards a place in the distance, a place where a bespectacled green-eyed boy looked at her with anticipation and pure joy...

No! Definitely like Parvati and Lavender! Stop!

Harry led her to the dancefloor after they finished their second dessert plate. Hermione thought she would burst out of her dress, that's how full she felt, and when she flattered herself against Harry's shoulder as they began a soft sway to the music, she almost dozed off.

'Good thing we're getting dance lessons,' Harry chuckled. 'We are the eight-graders in a crowd of grown-ups. Your family actually knows what they're doing.'

'I like it like this,' Hermione said, her head leaning against Harry's shoulder. 'You feel very firm and comforting against me.'

'Firm?' Harry snorted. 'That's... a weird way to phrase it.'

Hermione rolled her eyes, lifted her head off his shoulder and kissed him softly. Harry hummed approvingly, cupping her face with one hand and steadying the small of her back against his frame.

'I did tell you already that you look very beautiful tonight, right?' Harry said, stroking his thumb against her cheek.

'No,' Hermione replied. 'Not when I came out of my room, not six times in the car and definitely not twenty-four time at dinner. So rude of you.'

'Well,' Harry replied with a played sigh. 'I can't harm my masculinity too much, you know. They might discover I'm anything other than a fierce womanizer with a shitload of old money to spend and they'll throw me out.'

'Poor baby,' Hermione added and they laughed. She loved Harry's laugh - deep and meaningful - and she loved the fact that she would hear it more and more each week. The wounds of the war were healing, slowly but steadily.

He nuzzled his nose against the side of her head, pulling her in another soft sway, as they made a little, clumsy spin.

'So - You're looking forward to Thursday, then?'

'I am,' Harry grinned. 'I mean - I'm scared shitless, obviously. But excited too. And it's just really cool your uncle gives me the opportunity.'

'I wish I could be there with you,' Hermione sighed. 'You were so good at pissing Philip off the first time - I bet you'll be absolutely slaying it when it's with Uncle Vernon.'

'I'm certainly going to try,' Harry nodded. 'Might show you the memory in a Pensieve after, if it's as good as I hope it's going to be.'

He spinned her again and halted her against him, tracing her lips with his thumb.

She looked at him, at his sparkling green eyes, and he kissed her again. It was small, it was gentle, but he put a kind of pressure on his lips that made her sigh.

'Know that I really, really love you, Hermione,' he whispered. The look in his eyes was mesmerizing - if there was ever moment where she could read in his face how totally infatuated he was with her, this was it.

'I know,' she answered. 'Know that I really, really love you too, Harry.'

He grinned, placing a strand of hair behind her ear.

'I know. It just feels a bit criminal to be this happy. That's all.'

Hermione chuckled.

'Don't worry. I know what you mean.'

The band began to play a different song, as Harry placed his hands on her waist to try a different dance style.

'Tango?' he suggested, with a mischievous eyebrow wiggle.

'Harry - no, Harry,' Hermione warned, and she shrieked as Harry pulled her in a weird embrace and leaped with her on the dancefloor.

They were dancing the night away, like absolute idiots. Harry really was Hermione's favorite person on the planet. He was sweet, he was impulsive, he was passionate, he was surprisingly gentle and kind. If she had been a Muggle, their connection would have made her an instant believer of magic. They didn't care a few of Hermione's cousins told them to stop being so clingy, they didn't care that they were stuffing themselves full with another round of dessert, they didn't care that their dance moves looked silly and goofy, not even when a server came to deliver a personal message by grandma Eugenia that said "the lady of the house would appreciate it if you would just sit down and keep your decorum, as she gave you those dance lessons for a very appropriate reason and it seems you haven't been able to attend one yet".

Weirdly enough, Harry tired first - probably partly to blame was the huge chuck of chocolate cake he had been munching down with the enthusiasm of a wild boar not some 20 minutes earlier - and he kissed her on the back of her hand when he retreated to talk to Philip. Hermione was pleasantly surprised to find his spot to be instantly filled in by her own father.

'Dad!'

'Available at last,' her father joked. 'Mind if I steal one dance with my daughter?'

Hermione loved her goofy, attentive father. She had danced a lot with him when they were younger, but she had stood on top of his feet then, as he had jumped around the living room, filling their house with squeaks of joy.

'Don't mention the talks of your mother's family members,' her dad explained, as he lead her into a nice, simply sway, that looked a lot less weird than that of her and Harry. 'They are jealous. You're not too clingy, you're absolutely adorable together. I'm so glad you're enjoying yourself, Minny.'

Hermione would strangle anyone who tried giving her a nickname - anyone except her dad. The first few years of her life, she had called herself Minny, and he kept using it whenever they were in private. It was a thing that bonded them.

'Thanks, dad.'

'I hoped for this to happen, you know,' her father admitted, with a glint in his eyes. 'I always imagined that you would end up with a nice man, of course, but there was always a part of me that feared that you would pick someone based on your rationality. That when it would matter most, you would only rely on your brain, rather than your heart. I hoped there would be a man that would be able to capture both of those - your intellect and your affection. And, when I first met Ron, I was convinced you hadn't, but now with Harry...'

He pulled her a bit closer.

'You two remind me so much of your mother and I. And it makes a father's heart soar to see his daughter so happy. I'm proud of you, Minny. So, so proud.'

Hermione felt a lump in her throat as she heard her father speak those words. As a child, those words would only be spoken if she had done something truly remarkable. She didn't mind that - she liked working for her parents pride. But to hear it this time, about something that she hadn't accomplished by her quick thinking and appetite for reading, caused her to be a bit emotional.

'Dad! Since when have you become so sentimental?' she teased, as she wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. This was a happy occasion, and there would be happy tears only.

'Ouch! Old age, Minny,' her father winked. 'Just know that, no matter how smitten you are with that boy, I will always be the first man in your life. And you will always be my baby girl - I don't care if you like it or not.'

'I like that,' she assured him. 'And I wouldn't want anything else.'

Her father smiled, but then she saw something creep up behind his eyes that she knew. She had seen it during the war, the years before the Obliviation. Concern for her well-being.

'There is also... something that I want to talk with you about. I didn't want to use the phone. Your mother and I... Well, we've been approached.'

'Approached?' Hermione asked, concerned.

'Someone called us, pretending to be Aunt Veronique.'

Aunt Veronique was her father's oldest sister - she lived in France, like her grandparents had when they retired, and she would only see her every few years or so.

'We were just chatting away, and I caught a few things that she didn't understand correctly, but I guess the perpetrator used a spell through the phone because as soon as she said something that concerned me, I wasn't able to remember what it was exactly.'

'A Confundus-charm,' Hermione said, nodding. 'They must be especially good at magic to pull something like that off - transferring a spell via telecom is quite hard.'

'I figured. Well, it wasn't enough to alarm me fully, you know aunt Veronique can be a bit woozy after a few glasses of wine, until she asked how you were. I told about your job, in our terms of course, and then she said she heard that you had a boyfriend.'

'Oh?' Hermione's concern was growing by the sentence.

'And when I asked immediately how she would have heard that, she replied that she heard you were dating a man named Harry Potter. If I wanted to tell her what he was like.'

'What did you do?' she asked, breathless.

'I became alarmed, of course. I know how that darned Prophet treats you. So I told her that you were single and that Harry was just a friend, but that you have worked together more because of a case. I assured her nothing was going on.'

'That's amazing thinking, dad. And while you were under the Confundus-charm!'

'Well, your old dad knows how to use his grey mass, Minny,' her father joked. 'I'm not magical, but I'm not an idiot. I take you and Harry haven't come clean about your relationship in your world yet?'

Hermione shook her head.

'We like to keep it to ourselves for a bit. People - they'll talk. Especially since Harry just got a job at my department, it would overcomplicate things.'

Her father understood.

'Yes. Well, just know that some journalist is trying to expose you. It's only a matter of time before someone slips up, Hermione. And you'd rather come clean about it on your own terms, right?'

She nodded.

'You're right. I'll talk about it with Harry. If the press is going to find out themselves, it's going to be a lot worse.'