Day Three

Harry was more nervous for this dinner with Dudley and Amelia than he thought he would be. He'd been distrustful of strangers since he was very young. He had been conditioned to it. All throughout his childhood and adolescence they either disliked him because of the lies his aunt and uncle had told about him, or they had unrealistic expectations for him due to him being the Boy-Who-Lived.

He could list on his hands, with fingers left over, the number of people he'd ever met and allowed into his life who hadn't ultimately disappointed, preyed on, or betrayed him in some major way. Even those people who he had been ultimately able to forgive had left scars on him. So his dislike of meeting new people had carried over into adulthood and been added to with the paranoia born of being drawn into a war when he was just a teenager.

Still, he and Dudley had made amends and he had a genuine interest in having at least a polite acquaintanceship with him. He was really the only blood relation he had left and that meant something to Harry. It was too late for him to have any kind of real relationship with Aunt Petunia, even if she would allow it, he would never be able to trust her.

Also, he'd already met Amelia a few times and had gotten much of the awkward, get to know you small talk out of the way, with the added bonus that she was a muggle and had no idea about his personal history in regards to Voldemort. Which meant that he didn't have to worry that she was working her way up to asking about that.

Most importantly, he had Hermione, the person he trusted most in the world, the one who always supported him, willingly coming along. So, he hadn't expected to be practically vibrating with anxiety when he raised his hand to knock on Hermione's front door Friday night.

She threw it open before his fist could meet the wood and he froze in place. Dudley or- he suspected- Amelia had chosen an upscale restaurant, so it was no surprise that she was wearing a dress. It was black, sleeveless, and fell to her knees; a pair of heels, and the bracelet he'd given her two evenings before. And that was the most he could honestly describe about her outfit given his limited vocabulary about such things.

But it was her smile that captured him, and then the heady realization that she'd dressed this way for a night out with him. It was a one, two punch of emotion that all but erased his nerves.

"You look very handsome."

He laughed and cocked his head to the side. "You don't have to say that just to keep me from complaining about the suit."

"Well if that works then I'm glad, but that doesn't mean it's not true." She brushed his chest with her fingertips and then ran them down his tie until they caught in the place his jacket was buttoned and used it to pull him towards her.

He came easily, folding his arms around her and kissing her cheek. "You smell even nicer than normal."

"Mmm, somebody gave me some gorgeous bath oils."

"Somebody with good tastes?"

"Yes, a man of many hidden talents, apparently." She pulled back slightly so that she could look him in the eyes, leaning into the arms wrapped around her, trusting him not to let her fall. "Do I want to know how you did that?"

"It's not as interesting as you might think. I just asked Andromeda. She knows about all that fancy stuff that purebloods like, but she also understands quality as opposed to just spending galleons for the sake of showing off."

"Smart. Thank you, it was decadent."

"I knew we were going out tonight, it seemed like a good day to choose to leave it in the calendar, I'm happy it worked out. Are you ready to go? I know you'll be anxious if we cut it too close."

She nodded and grabbed her coat which he helped her with, and then a small bag.

"Is there a tent in there?" He teased.

"Sorry, no, this is just a regular clutch. Though I have been tempted to charm at least a couple of my bags. But I don't think convenience and paranoia would be considered good enough reasons to break the law." She pulled a face of exaggerated disappointment. "And now I've gone and told an Auror."

"Your secret would be safe with me," he chuckled and took her hand. "Though for the record, I'm sure Kingsley would give you all the permission you wanted."

"That sounds like a questionable use of my relationship with the Minister," she peeked coyly up at him, "and also getting permission kind of takes all the fun out of it."

Harry shook his head. Only this witch would question the ethics of something, and then admit that acting unethically was fun in the same sentence.

They took a taxi to the restaurant. Harry didn't want to have to worry about either driving or apparating tonight, and he was doubly glad for that decision once they'd gotten in the taxi because it meant that he had time and attention to spare for Hermione while they were still alone. He was also happy to discover upon arrival at the restaurant that while it was very nice; the low lighting, upbeat atmosphere, and young crowd put him far more at ease than that place Hermione dragged him to on Halloween.

Amelia greeted them with enthusiastic hugs and cheek kisses. Dudley was far more subdued with his 'hellos,' but Harry hadn't really expected the man to be excited. The only thing he cared about was that- knowing she was a witch- Dudley treated Hermione with respect, and it didn't appear like that was going to be a problem.

"Should we get a bottle of wine for the table or…?" Amelia asked, once they were seated, looking between the three of them.

"I think I'll just have a beer if you don't mind, love," Dudley interjected.

"Me too," Harry quickly agreed.

"I'm happy to split a bottle with you, I'm not driving, I can have more than one glass," Hermione added, answering Amelia.

"Okay, me too! So that works out perfectly!"

Harry had yet to see her act in any way other than completely cheerful. Surprisingly, it didn't drive him crazy, maybe because she also seemed totally genuine. It was as if Dudley had gone out and tracked down the antithesis of his mother and somehow convinced her to marry him. Harry certainly couldn't find fault with that.

Their waiter reappeared and took their drink orders and then, after they spent a few minutes perusing and discussing the menu, Hermione apparently decided to take the reins of the conversation. "So, Harry, didn't tell me how the two of you met," she glanced in his direction, "I'm guessing he didn't think to ask."

"That sounds like you're guessing from experience," Amelia answered. "Is that a male thing, do you think? Only getting the bare minimum of information about a situation, I mean? Dudley does it too. Then again these two were raised the same way, I can see how they would be alike. Maybe it's just a family thing."

Luckily Harry had been prepared for such assumptions and he was able to suppress a flinch, but he felt Hermione's eyes on him.

"I told you," Dudley interrupted quietly, "we didn't get along when we were kids."

"Well siblings fight," she waved him off, "Ben- that's my brother-" she added as an aside, presumably for Harry and Hermiome's benefit, "drives me crazy to this day."

Harry couldn't quite suppress his flinch this time. It had never really occurred to him before that that was how he and Dudley should have been raised, if his aunt and uncle were only decent people, and if he hadn't just been dumped on their doorstep without giving them any choice in the matter, which had surely made them resent him.

"Not the same," Dudley insisted, looking rather miserable himself.

So Harry did what he always did when he was completely out of his depth, he turned to Hermione and pleaded with his eyes. Though he couldn't have articulated what that plea, had he been free to speak out loud, would have been. She took his hand and nodded without hesitation.

"Amelia," she said gently, "do you know what happened to Harry's parents?"

She flicked her eyes in Harry's direction but quickly returned her attention to Hermione. "I know they died when he was very young."

"They did, and at the same time, they were actually murdered." Amelia gasped but Hermione didn't stop talking. "Harry was in the house at the time. He was only a little over a year old, young enough not to actively remember it, but old enough to be traumatized."

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry, I had no idea!" She was clasping Dudley's hand on top of the table in a white knuckled grip and looking back and forth between him and Harry. "Why didn't you tell me?" She asked Dudley, "I never would have made them talk about it," she finished with a hiss.

He just shrugged, looking more miserable by the second.

"I can see how that would be a difficult thing to bring up," Hermione said to Amelia gently. "I know it's hard for me to talk about and it's not even my family. Harry never had to tell me, his parents attended the same school we did and their story is well known there. I know Dudley wasn't traumatized in the same way, but I assume he finds it difficult to discuss as well, and possibly also feels that it's not his story to tell."

She looked at Dudley, a question in her eyes, and he gave a sort of half-shrug.

Harry knew that this conversation probably should have been upsetting him, but all he could concentrate on was how wrong it felt to hear Hermione say that his family was not her family. He didn't know why it bothered him so much, it was factually true and he knew that she wasn't saying that she didn't care about what had happened to his parents, but the feeling of wrongness still settled like a weight on his sternum that he couldn't shove away, or even so much as breathe without feeling it bearing down on him.

Amelia nodded, hesitated, then spoke. "May I ask some questions or am I being completely out of line? I know I can be nosey."

Hermione glanced at Harry and he just squeezed her hand, he knew she would interpret that as his permission. "No, that's okay. It's only natural," Hermione said sympathetically, tightening her own grip on his hand.

"Did they catch the person who did it?"

"They did, he was actually killed while they were trying to apprehend him. But that didn't happen until just a few years ago. So, I think you can understand how that might cast a shadow over an entire family."

"Yeah. Wow, okay," she blew out a long breath.

Again, Harry thought that he probably should have been experiencing a myriad of emotions over this conversation. Discussing his parents always created a confusing maelstrom of feelings, but now he could only marvel at Hermione's brain, once again saving his arse. She hadn't said anything that was technically untrue- except for maybe the attempting to apprehend part, he'd never had any intention of doing that- and provided a perfectly good explanation for why his relationship with the people who raised him might be stilted.

He realized that he didn't even care that in doing so, she was covering for his aunt and uncle and their behavior in a way. Because while he couldn't stand them, he saw no reason to put Amelia at odds with them. Though, by striving to get to know Harry, she might be doing that all by herself.

"I'm very sorry, Harry, that's terrible," Amelia said.

For some reason it took Harry by surprise to be addressed. Or maybe his surprise was more over the content of her statement. With the exception of Hermione, years into their friendship, he didn't think a single person had ever simply expressed their sorrow over his parents death. When it came up at all it always got wrapped up in conversation about a greater purpose, or worse, celebration.

"Thank you," he answered, voice raspy, and Hermione's grip on his hand tightened.

"Well," Amelia continued, "I really didn't mean to bring the night down. I really just wanted to get to know the two of you. Except for his parents, I've never really met anybody who knew Dudley before he went to Smeltings."

Harry cleared his throat. "That's okay, it's understandable."

Her eyes brightened a bit and Harry nearly breathed a sigh of relief.

"Well, let's find something happier to talk about," Amelia suggested. "Tell us about the two of you. Have you really been together since you were eleven?"

Thank all the gods Hermione took up the conversation again from there. He didn't have any doubt that she was aware he was struggling.

"Best friends since then," Hermione answered, "best friends for a long time," she added quietly, twisting her hand in his so that their fingers were intertwined.

"And then what happened? What made you want to give a relationship a try? That must have seemed like a risk, right?" She bit her lip. "I'm sorry, I told you I can be nosey."

"It's perfectly fine," Hermione chuckled gently.

"I just imagine it felt like a big risk, changing your friendship like that. But then again, how romantic," she sighed, "falling in love with your best friend!" She looked back and forth between them. "I'm sure you've been told this a million times, but the two of you are so lovely together. It's like you can just anticipate each other, it makes sense that you've been important to each other for more than half your lives."

Hermione smiled, but it looked strained. "Well, I suppose starting a relationship is always a risk, maybe less of one for me and Harry, we already knew pretty well what we were getting into."

"Mmm, that makes sense," Amelia murmured.

"And there was no big moment, we just kind of drifted into it naturally until it got to the point where it was like 'why not?'" She looked at Harry as she spoke, eyes wide and sincere. "Right?"

It was exactly what they'd discussed. Neither of them had been interested in fabricating some elaborate story about how their relationship had begun. This explanation was simple, and it rang true. So true that in that moment, looking into her eyes, Harry wondered why it wasn't. His breath caught in his chest and he could only nod.

Hermione gave him a small smile, cleared her throat and turned back to the other couple. "Enough about us! You never did say how you met!"

Amelia gazed at them for a few moments longer, her eyes seemed far away, but then she perked up. "Would you believe that he came to my rescue?" She asked with a laugh.

If he hadn't been so busy being gobsmacked, Harry probably would have laughed too.

Two hours later and a surprisingly enjoyable meal- both the food and the company- later they were once again in a taxi on the way back to Hermione's flat. "Well that was some night," he said, he was still trying to wrap his mind, and his heart, around it all.

"I think Amelia's very nice. I'm biased against Dudley, but he seems okay too. Are you alright?"

"Yeah. It was just weird. I've never really talked about my parents like that before, like you said earlier, everybody just knew."

She placed her head on his shoulder.

"Thank you for coming tonight," he said as he laid his head on top of hers.

"You're welcome. I enjoyed myself, despite the heavy conversation. I can't believe Dudley Dursley, of all people, met his future wife by saving her from being mugged!"

Harry snorted. "Me either, that's irony for you."

"Oh yeah," she agreed with a little laugh. "Though I guess it's good that he grew up better than he was taught to be as a child. I think that has a little to do with you," she nudged his side.

"I don't know about that."

She made a little sound of disagreement but didn't push him. "I meant what I said about Amelia though, I would hang out with her again, after the wedding if you wanted. If you wanted somebody to come with you to see them or whatever," she clarified hurriedly.

"Okay," Harry stuttered out, taken aback by the offer. "What would we tell them though? About us, I mean."

She shrugged. "That we broke up but we'll always be best friends, I guess," she shrugged again, like it was no big deal, and just kept talking. "I kind of feel bad for her though, getting those people as in-laws."

"Yeah," he sighed, "I was thinking the same thing. I think she can handle herself though, and it seems like Dudley really loves her and puts her first, which is good, right? At least that's how I've heard relationships are supposed to work."

"I agree," she nudged him with her elbow. "You know more than you think."

He snickered. "I didn't want to assume before, I don't know anything about clothes or labels or whatever, but the way she was talking about the wedding, her parents are wealthy, aren't they?"

"I would say so."

"Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon must be pleased as punch. They just better hope they always feel that way and that they're never placed in a position where they're at a disadvantage. They wouldn't know how to handle it."

"Oh Harry," she sighed.

"It's okay, you know, I'm okay."

"You are, against all odds. But it is most certainly not okay, and you'll never convince me otherwise, so don't even try unless you want a lecture."

"I'm not stupid enough to ask for a Hermione Granger lecture."

"Well I think history shows that's absolutely not true," she sassed.

He pinched her side.

"Harry!"

He clapped his hand over her mouth so that they wouldn't be thrown out of the taxi.