In the morning....

Thumping on the front door startled Harry. He yawned, rose from the sofa and answered the door. Mrs. Granger was standing there with a baby on her hip that he swore was a one-year old Hermione look-alike. The baby babbled and pointed at Harry.

"Mrs. Granger...and little Miss Granger, good morning," he said, looking at his watch. "I should have been up--"

She patted his shoulder and came inside.

"Good to see you, Harry," she said. "Ian's parking the car."

She put the baby in a play pen Hermione kept in the flat for when she watched her little sister. Ian Granger examined the hedgerows that lined the sidewalk as he made his way to the front door with a bag in hand. He held out his hand for Harry when he walked through the door.

"I was hoping that brown trout would be here so I could give him a piece of my mind," he said.

"You'd have to wait in line," Harry said. "I get first dibs."

"She still asleep?" Grace asked and went to the bedroom.

Evelyn babbled at the cat that pawed at the playpen. Ian removed wrapped presents from the bag and an envelope from his jacket pocket. Ten minutes later, Grace came back into the living room and glanced at the playpen. She rolled her eyes and went to it, removed the cat from the baby's clutches, and deposited the feline on the sofa.

"She's showering and dressing," Grace said and went to the kitchen, starting tea and rifling through the cupboard for food.

"She usually has a scone with raspberry jam for breakfast," Harry said.

"Well, by the looks of this cupboard, it appears that she needs to visit the market," Grace said.

"I'll go," Harry said and put on his jacket.

"That's sweet of you," Grace said.

"Would you like anything?" Harry asked.

"Again, that's sweet of you, but no," Grace said.

After Harry left, Ian took the baby from the playpen and sat on the sofa with her. The cat cuddled next to his leg. He scratched behind Crook's ears.

"See, pumpkin? We pet the kitty, not squash the kitty," he explained to the baby.

Hermione emerged from the bedroom as her mother set the tea service on the table.

"Happy birthday, sweetie," Ian and Grace said and engulfed her in a hug. They stepped back and looked at her carefully.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to start bawling. I'm done with that, no more tears over the tosser," she said.

"That's my girl," Ian said and hugged her one more time.

"Here, have some tea," Grace said.

"I'm starved," Hermione said and went to the kitchen, discovering what her mother had. "I need to pay Tesco a visit."

"Harry's getting something," Ian said.

"Did he come by?" Hermione asked and sat down with her tea.

"He spent the night on your couch," Grace said.

"He didn't have to do that," Hermione said.

"We're just glad that you have such good friends," Grace said.

"So am I," Hermione said. "I kind of went...spare last night. It was pathetic."

Quick knocks on the door signaled Harry's return. He poked his head in and smiled when he saw Hermione.

"I come bearing food," he said and lifted a bag.

"Excellent," Hermione said.

Ian and Grace watched the two in the kitchen interact as if they prepared breakfast together every day. Grace looked pointedly at Ian. After breakfast, Hermione was given more presents. Gift cheques from her favorite stores, a new tea service, and the last when Ian gave her an envelope. She opened it, looked at the contents and gasped.

"Dad! I don't know what to say!" she said.

"You've said for years now that Las Vegas is somewhere you've always wanted to go," Ian said.

"That sounds great right about now. I have almost two years worth of holiday time saved up," she said.

"So Morocco next year?" Grace asked.

**

Hermione left to spend the day with her parents, so Harry went to The Burrow. The Chudley Cannons Team, of which Ron was the Keeper, were playing a home match this week so Ron was home for the weekend. Ginny was looking over a catalog of maternity clothes with her mother, while Wayne, Arthur and Ron were talking about the Quidditch World Cup that had taken place a month prior. Harry sat by the living room window, deep in thought while nursing a Butterbeer.

"You're awfully quiet over there, is everything alright?" Molly asked Harry.

"Oh....yes, I just have a lot on my mind," he replied.

"Well, if there's anything we can do to help, just say the word," Molly said.

"Actually--" he said and stopped. If I can't even voice it here, how am I going to ask her? Idiot!

He rose, ran his hands through his hair and faced them. "I was thinking about asking Hermione out," he said carefully.

Ginny put her hand over her mouth.

"Out? Like just the two of you going somewhere together?" Ronald asked.

"Yes, Ron, like that!" Harry snapped.

"Calm down, mate," Ron said.

"Sorry Ron, it's just got me on edge," Harry said.

"When were you planning on asking her out?" Ginny said.

He shrugged. "Dunno. I don't want it to be too soon after Trace."

"Don't wait too long. Someone might get to her before you. Word gets around fast when a good witch is available," Wayne said.

"That makes us sound like cattle," Ginny mumbled.

"You think I don't know that? I know she's out of my league! I'm worried that things will get weird between us if it doesn't work out," Harry said.

"You two would make a fabulous couple," Ginny said. "She already loves you, just not in a romantic way-"

"-yet," Ron added.

"-and she knows you better than anyone. I say it would be perfectly natural for the two of you to be a couple," Ginny said.

"Harry, please don't sell yourself short. She's not out of your league, whatever that means," Molly said.

Harry rolled his eyes. "What I mean is that she's grown smarter, prettier and--"

He was going to add "sexier" but thought twice, especially with this bunch. The mickey would be never-ending from Ron.

"-and I've stayed the same. Will she, can she, see me as something other than her bumbling best friend?" Harry asked. "She's just everything a man could want, as far as I'm concerned," Harry said and plopped back down on the sofa.

"Aww, that's...so romantic," Ginny said.

"Harry James Potter, how can you ask what she will see in you? This is Hermione, and I can guarantee that she already likes what she sees!" Molly exclaimed.

**

Four days later, DMLE Canteen

At lunch, Harry saw Hermione waving at him from her usual table. He made his way there with his usual sandwich and Coke. She patted the chair across the small table.

"Nice to see you back here," he said.

"I finally caught up on some important cases," she said. "Which brings me to my next point. Since I've caught up on work, I decided to use the plane ticket Dad gave me and go on holiday. Come Friday, I'm going away for a week. Can you give me ride to Heathrow and feed Crooks while I'm away?"

"Sure, just bring me back something," he said.

He listened to her babble about Caesar's Palace and the desert and wondered how he would go a week without seeing her. After his declaration at the Weasley's, she was all he could think about. He blinked quickly when he realized she was waving a hand in his face.

"Earth to Harry? Wow, where did you go? Is something wrong?" she asked, her brow furrowing in concern.

He waved her concern off. "No, just work stuff."

"How was Ron's match? You went, right?" she asked.

"They lost. Ron's a good keeper, but it takes more than a good keeper to win a match," Harry said.

"Look, there's the recap of the weekend's matches," Hermione said. "As much as Ginny liked to play--"

"And she was top-notch at it too--" Harry added.

"--she really seems to enjoy her new career," Hermione finished, watching Ginny recap the weekend's Quidditch matches on the canteen telly screen.

After she had baby number two, Ginny decided to retire from Quidditch. That was also around the time that Malfoy Enterprises, under the leadership of a surprisingly enlightened and progressive Draco Malfoy, introduced the Muggle concept of telecommunications to the UK wizarding world. He realized the enormous profit potential and notoriety of being a trendsetter in Magical society and launched Dragon Communications. The network was comprised of telly programming, telephones, mobiles, and a competitor radio network opposite Wizarding World Wireless. Draco let it be known that computers were next on his list.

"Apple who?" he often quipped. Dragon Communications was also completely and proudly independent of the Ministry for Magic.

One of Draco's first decisions was to land Ginny as a presenter; the beautiful war heroine and former Quidditch star was now the lead commentator/reporter for Quidditch Today, the number two rated programme behind The Guiding Wand. Hermione returned her attention to Harry when an advert for Quidditch gloves appeared.

"Did you get your hair cut?" she asked.

"Um...yes, some," he asked.

"It looks nice, especially there around your ears," she said.

"Thanks," he said. "Hermione, there's something I've been meaning to ask you--" he started but stopped when a witch from her department arrived at her side and said something quietly to her. She nodded, rose from the table, and smiled apologetically at Harry.

"Duty calls. You had a question?" she asked and slid her arms into her department robe.

"It can wait," he said.

"Harry, are you sure that nothing's wrong? You know you can tell me anything," she said.

"Get back to work, slacker," he said and waved her off.

"Slacker? Moi? What are you doing here faffing about?" she asked mock-haughtily.

"Faff? I assure you, Miss Granger, that Harry Potter doesn't faff or anything of the like," he replied in equal mock-haughtiness.

She giggled and gave him a quick squeeze.

She smells like roses! he thought.

**

Hermione stood in front of McCarran International Airport, stupefied at the climate at just 10 a.m. She had never felt anything like it. A taxi pulled up in front of her and the window rolled down.

"Need a ride?" the driver asked.

"Yes. My hotel is Caesars Palace," she answered.

"Well well, a Brit. Welcome to Vegas," he said.

Hermione grew more and more excited as they passed casino after casino with huge luxury hotels.

"What do you think?" the driver asked.

"It's amazing," she said. "And the heat! I've never felt anything like it!"

"That's the desert for you," he said and they arrived at a hotel that indeed resembled a ancient Roman palace.

She paid the driver and a uniformed man approached her and offered to take her bags inside. She thanked him, grateful for the help. She was tired from the flight and was hotter than she'd ever been. At the reception desk, she told them her name and was warmly greeted.

"Miss Granger from London, welcome," the woman said. "You have a five-night reserved stay in one of our Palace Tower Premium Rooms," she said and slid an envelope with the room keys across the counter. "Enjoy your stay."

She took the lift (or elevator as they called it in America) to her room, fumbled with the key the first few tries and entered the room with a huff. She dropped her satchel at what she saw. The room was stunning and as large as her entire flat!

She glanced at a doorway to the left, went to it and gasped. The was more than just a loo and the largest she had ever seen. It featured dual showers, dual basins, an over-sized spa tub, and was constructed of beautiful dual marble. It even had a bidet! Astounded that the room had more amenities than her own flat, she flopped down on the king-size bed and fell asleep gazing out the window.