Epilogue:
A few weeks later, Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione had decided to go out to dinner – a sort of couple's night celebration that Ginny and Hermione had hatched for some reason. Harry couldn't really understand why; the two couples saw each other all the time, anyway, but if it meant that Ginny got to wear a new, slinky style of dress, then he was all for it.
She looked sexy as hell, to Harry's eyes, and he had seen her in every way possible the last few weeks, he was proud to say, and yet still, she kept on impressing him. She'd worn her hair up, and her dress was the darkest sort of blue, just two shades away from being black. It caught the light and shimmied when she moved, as though she were wearing a dress made out of dark water. She had donned high heels too, something he couldn't wait to put to use later – they made her almost as tall as he was, and he loved the difference when they kissed.
Hermione also looked very lovely, and she had a glow about her that Harry hadn't noticed before. But then again, ever since realizing he was in love with Ginny, he saw a lot of things he hadn't had a chance to before. It was like the world was full of vibrant, vivacious colors now, and he almost felt blinded sometimes.
They were waiting outside a new restaurant that had just opened at the end of high street – The Herbed Serpent – and even Harry was surprised by the number of people standing in the queue. Luckily, he'd made reservations. Although he'd had to drop his name just to get an 8pm sitting. Ginny looked around them, a smirk on her face. She smiled at him.
"Bet some of these women wish they were on your arm right now," she whispered, moving her mouth closer to his ear.
Harry chuckled at her. "Only some?"
"Well, I was giving myself a margin of error, things being what they are with human attractiveness levels. But sod that, all the women want to be on your arm, and maybe some of the blokes too. That one over there can't stop looking at you."
Harry turned his head and saw a taller man with dark hair and sky-blue eyes who kept glancing their way, a faint blush on his cheeks. Harry shook his head at Ginny.
"Pretty sure he's looking at you. You do look stunning tonight, have I mentioned?"
Ginny grinned. "Once, maybe twice. Okay, a few dozen times. I'm glad you like it. I wanted to look especially pretty for you tonight."
"You look pretty every night to me."
"And you look good enough to eat, in that suit of yours, so let's not linger too long tonight, hmm? I definitely want to have a taste. And that man is staring at you again."
Harry shook his head at her and watched as the other bloke turned away again, definitely embarrassed at being caught looking.
"Or maybe he's looking at the both of us," Ginny whispered, her voice low and promiscuous. "We could try to chat him up." Harry didn't reply because he knew she was only teasing him. He had found out that one of Ginny's most favorite things to do in their relationship was to tease him. Often and mercilessly.
Harry felt himself blush again and finally shushed her. "He's only wondering how a git like me pulled such a sexy creature as you, and how we managed to be closer to the food than him."
Ginny finally laughed. "That's my boy, so humble."
She rested her head on his shoulder, and Harry took her hand, giving it a squeeze. This was one of their first official nights out together where there would actually be press – he had been worried they would cause a sensation, but so far, nothing. Which was just how he liked it.
"Bloody hell, the food in this place better impress," Ron said as he strained his neck over the crowd. Hermione turned around and smiled at Harry and Ginny.
"I'm so excited! The head chef trained in France extensively! He's been in very high demand!"
"But his father built him the restaurant. That might mean he stinks," Ron said, glancing at his wife. "Or worse, maybe he only cooks French food well. Which would be a bit disappointing, really."
"Oh, hush. I am sure they have regular food too, Ron. You don't have to worry about eating anything you don't like."
Harry and Ginny shared a glance, identical smirks on their faces. Just then, the queue moved, and the Maitre d' called them forward – it was time. Harry felt his stomach grumble in response.
The main dining room of the restaurant was very nice – it was sleek and modern, with highlights in green and silver. As soon as they entered, there was a hush that fell over everything, blocking out the noises from the crowd and the world outside. There were a few other couples and groups already seated, with soft, classical music playing overhead. As they sat down and looked at their menu, Harry realized this was going to be a costly meal indeed.
"Blimey," Ron muttered next to him. "Good thing I robbed that bank on the way over."
"Dinner is on us," Ginny announced, as Hermione nodded her head in agreement. Harry and Ron looked at each other and then at the women.
"What?" Harry asked, not sure he had understood.
"We decided to treat you and no, no arguments, and yes, we realize this place isn't cheap. But I just got my bonus from work, and Hermione got some good news, too. And your birthday is coming up, Harry, so consider this part of your present. From both of us."
"Where did you get heaps of dosh?" Ron said, staring at his wife.
"I sold my article to the British Journal of Sociology. They've agreed to pay me more than I was actually asking for, so I thought, why not?" Hermione said shrugging. A waiter came over to offer them goblets of water with lemon, limes, and oranges.
Before Ron could argue with her, Harry smiled at her. "That's brilliant, Hermione, what was your article about?"
As Hermione began to explain her article, Harry got a weird sensation at the back of his neck and glanced about. He wondered if the bloke from outside had been seated and was staring at them again. But instead, Harry saw a tall, older man - slightly older than Sirius and Remus, at any rate - watching them from across the room. He had long, pale blonde hair and ice-blue eyes. The man finally looked away from Harry, and started talking to one of the wait staff . Harry felt a shiver and didn't realize he'd reacted until Ginny touched his arm.
"What is it? Hermione's article isn't that boring, is it?" she whispered to him out of the side of her mouth.
Harry shook his head, whispering back. "No, it's just that I got a funny feeling while that bloke was looking at us. Guess I imagined it."
Harry tuned back into what Hermione was saying and put the feeling out of his head. Just then a loud commotion came from the front of the restaurant, and they heard cries of 'Thomas! Thomas! Thomas!' from outside. Harry saw Ginny go white next to him. A moment later, he understood why.
Romilda Vane and Dean Thomas had just made their entrance, and apparently, the whole world had followed. The blond-haired man Harry had seen came striding forward, using a walking stick, of all things to break his stride. Harry thought he looked like a glorified dandy with that stick and wondered if the other man knew what a git he looked like. The older man held up his hands to the new couple as though to shield the rest of the dining room from the disturbance.
Romilda's eyes alighted on their table, and Harry saw a huge grin break out across her face. "Oh, hell," he whispered, and saw similar emotions on everyone else's faces. A few moments later, and Romilda was practically prancing toward their table, dragging Dean Thomas and a reporter behind her.
"Ooh! Hermione! Hello. I thought that was you. And hello, Ron. And look, Dean, it's your old throwaway, Ginny. Oh, and Harry, too. How nice and...dull. What a perfect foursome you all make. So exciting. Can't imagine why the media aren't hounding you like they're hounding us. But then, we're not three nobodies and a has-been." She tossed her hair and smiled widely at the reporter who was writing everything down. To Harry, Romilda appeared completely off her trolley.
Harry felt Ginny stiffen beside him, her eyes narrowing, and her ears going pink. Before she could speak, however, Hermione stood up and nodded at Romilda.
"Hello, Romilda. Lovely to see you. How did you enjoy your time at the…" Hermione paused dramatically and looked around, her voice taking on the sound of a stage whisper. "The fat farm? Or wait, they don't call it that anymore, do they? What do they say now? Oh, yes, the spa. How did you enjoy your time at the spa?"
"I was not at a fat farm," Romilda said, her voice tinged with loathing. She glanced over her shoulder at the reporter, frowning.
"Oh? No? Sorry, that must have been a rumor I heard from a friend that works in one. She could have sworn it was you. My mistake." Hermione shrugged and then sat down, beaming at them. Harry could barely hold in his laughter.
Romilda stared at all of them, her face filling with color. Harry saw Dean tug on her hand, his expression embarrassed. The blonde-haired man, who was apparently the owner, came over to them and had a staff member lead them away. He looked down at their table, a brief smile on his face.
"I am sorry for the intrusion. Celebrities, alas, you know what they're like. Have a complimentary starter and drinks on my behalf. And Mr Potter, it is lovely to see you out and about. How's that football injury? Hmm?"
Before Harry could answer, he was gone, his blonde-hair trailing behind him. Everyone at the table looked at each other in disbelief.
"Bloody hell," Ron said, sighing. "You two girls sure know how to pick a restaurant. I think I'll be having the Filet Mignon, now."
"Ron!" Hermione said, shaking her head at him.
"What? It's on you, you said. And now, since we have free drinks and starters, you two won't have to spend an arm and a leg this evening."
"You know, Ginny, I'm so glad you saved me from her that night at the club," Harry said, his eyes following Romilda and Dean being seated. "That kiss changed my life in so many ways, it's not even measurable."
Ginny smiled at him and squeezed his hand. Harry glanced at Ron and Hermione to see his best mate staring at him as though he'd grown another head.
"What?" Harry asked, looking down at himself.
Ron looked between him and Ginny, his face turning pink. "Are you telling me that my sister is the girl from the nightclub?"
Harry and Ginny looked at each other.
"Er, I thought you knew, Ron," Ginny said, confused. "You never told him I was Red?"
Harry frowned, thinking about it. "Actually, no, I didn't. I just assumed Hermione had." The three of them turned to look at their bushy-haired friend, who was grinning back at them.
She shrugged. "I was waiting for the perfect moment."
Ron's mouth opened and closed like a fish for a few moments before he looked at them. "So Ginny was the girl? The email girl? The one from the phone?"
Ginny shook her head. "Yes, Ron, we've already established that. Do keep up. What are you going to have, Harry? I think the guinea fowl sounds lovely. Hmm, with rosemary."
Harry looked worriedly at Ron. "It doesn't change anything, mate. It just proves I've always been crazy about her, yeah?"
Ron looked at his sister, who was ignoring him, and then he looked at his wife, who was also staring at her menu. He met Harry's eyes. "Bloody hell. You're lucky I like you so much, Harry. And that you made an honest woman out of her."
Ginny slapped her menu down on the table and stared at her brother. "Let's get one thing straight, Ron, no matter if he had or hadn't, I am free to do whatever I please with whomever I want, and you cannot do one thing to stop me, is that clear?"
Ron's mouth twitched in amusement after a moment of staring at Ginny. "God, you're so easy to upset, Sis. Don't get your knickers in a twist, I was only teasing you. I'm just glad you two idiots figured each other out."
Ginny shook her head at her brother, her color returning to normal, thankfully. Harry released a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. Oh yeah, his life was definitely never going to be boring, ever again.
o-o-o-o-o