Surprisingly, I do not own Harry Potter... So, back to letters. And a meeting with Hermione's parents. I am aware that Dr. Granger is not what many American parents would likely be like, and especially not like the girls' fathers mostly pictured on this site. I don't know too many Englishmen, but I think that a good lot of continental European fathers would have some talk like that. Don't like, don't read.

"Dear Harry,

Neville has explained to me and Ginny in the most explicit terms why we should accept the orders. He did not mention the inheritance, but I guess you are right with that. Anyway, we will accept them and will be nice little pure-bloods. But we will find something to make up to Hermione.

But now to the important things. How did you get to watch the game of the year? I guess our great headmaster doesn't know about it? How was the game? Did you talk to Krum? Is he still into Hermione?

See you on Saturday,

Ron"

"Dear Harry,

I think this is the longest time I have spent without a letter from you. What have you been up to? Please remember to check your robes today, so that we know you will have them tomorrow. I am really looking forward to seeing you. Can you bring the copies of our letters to the others? Our home is already in preparation for the party. The elves have erected the tents, and the halls are shining. Uncle Raginald has lifted the geas from us three so we can talk to the guests at the party. He is thinking of keeping mine lifted if I behave. I don't know about Tori and Daphne. I can't wait to introduce you to them and all the others. We will have so much fun! Now, I have designed some witches' dresses for my Barbie. I'll show you the sketches if you come a bit earlier.

Love,

Your Ernie"

It was a good thing that she reminded him. Harry dressed and went down to the store. The woman had another customer and was talking animatedly with her, when she saw Harry and stopped. "That's him."

The woman scrutinised him. "Good afternoon. I'm Anabel Sutton."

"Nice to meet you. I'm Harry Potter."

"My aunt has told me you and your friend dabble in clothes design?"

"Ernestina does. I'm more of her mannequin."

The woman smiled. "Would you mind wearing these robes for me?"

Harry had no idea where this was going, but complied. The woman made him walk up and down, turn and stop. "Very pretty. And you are a wizard?"

Harry sighed inwardly. So his joke came back to haunt him. Some quick thinking was necessary. "Yes. You see, my friend and I are both orphans, my parents were murdered and her mum committed suicide. So we kind of invented a parallel world where we were wizards and fighting against a bad, evil wizard. I am, of course, his arch-nemesis and a hero."

"And the wizards in your world wear such things?"

"Yeah. They are rather backward in some aspects, but they have their magical powers. So think of some kind of Victorian age with instant communication and teleportation."

"Cute." The woman chuckled. "Your friends are in?"

Harry nodded. "We are about 20 or so already, all roleplaying this."

"What's your girlfriend's last name?"

"de Bokken. Why?"

"Oh, I am an advisor for cloth labels. Potter & de Bokken - Magical wear. I really like that idea."

Harry was definitely in over his head. "What are you talking about?"

"Well. I think it will take a bit longer to explain that. Do you think that you could ask your friend over for a talk? I could invite you for lunch?"

Harry shrugged. "I could send her an owl. Next week?"

The woman chuckled. "Yes, that's a good idea. Will you call me?" She handed him a business card.

"I will." Harry nodded to her, still feeling a bit railroaded. He then paid for his robes and went home.

"Have you asked Hermione to be your date at the Delacour ball, by the way?"

Harry shook his head. Tonks hit the back of his head with her flat hand. "Imbecile! Do it now! And use at least a pink rose. I'll preserve it for you."

"My dear Mymione,

I have received an invitation to the ball at the Delacours. Would you possibly do me the honour of being my date for that ball?

For me, quite a lot has happened. Yesterday, I was at the quidditch game between Bulgaria and France in Germany. Victor has invited me and told me to send you his best. It was great! I wish I could do half the manoeuvres he does. Maybe if I had been able to practise with a real coach from the beginning on. Why doesn't Madam Hooch teach us advanced flying? I know that it was probably not really smart to go there, but Tonks went with me, and I don't think that Voldemort has his agents in Germany. They seem very prosperous there.

How does your internship go?

Love,

Harry."

"Dear Harry,

I have now sent our letters to the other students. I am really looking forward for their reaction. I have asked the owls to send the replies to you, as I think that your status will help participation. And I am really looking forward for tomorrow.

Love,

Ernie"

The phone rang. "The Dursleys' residence, Harry Potter speaking."

"Good evening Harry. This is John Granger."

Harry froze. "Is everything alright with Hermione?"

A chuckle answered him. "Yes, certainly. I hope so. She is, as you know, still in France, and my wife and I had to return to merry old England. Now, as Hermione has told us so much about you, we would like to meet you. We will be driving through Surrey in about an hour. Would you have time to go for dinner with my wife and me?"

"I would have to ask. One moment please."

"No need to hurry."

Harry went out, found Tonks, asked her and returned. Death-Eaters would neither use telephones nor would they drive.

"Mr. Granger, are you still there?"

"Yes."

"I would like to meet you two."

"Great. Privet Drive 4. Will auror Tonks join us?"

"It might be better, Sir."

"Ok. We pick you up."

An hour later, a sleek BMW limousine pulled up the driveway. Harry had seen Hermione's parents a few times at King's Cross and once in Diagon Alley. So he knew that the man and the woman who came out of the car were his friend's parents. Not to mention that there would be very few Death-Eaters who would be able to drive a car or use a mobile phone.

"Hi Harry. Nice to meet you again." They shook hands, and Harry introduced Tonks to them. They then sat back into the car and drove to a pub in the town centre. Mr. Granger sat down at one of the tables. "Ah, finally. Honest to god, fatty, unhealthy British food."

Mrs. Granger smiled at her husband's antics. "Yes, it was awful, eating all that wonderfully prepared French cuisine. Not to mention the wines." She turned to Harry. "Thank you for making the time. It is strange that you are best friends with Hermione for almost five years now, and that we have not met socially."

Harry smiled. Gryffindors charge ahead. "I hope Hermione has not told too bad stuff about me."

Mr. Granger shrugged. "Basically, she told about how difficult it is to get you to study, and how well you play this quid... quiddutch?"

"Quidditch, sir."

Mrs. Granger chuckled. "And how cute you are. First we thought you were her puppy."

"Now, after Fleur talked about the Triwizard Tournament and we put our daughter through the third degree..." Mr. Granger rolled his eyes. "We have heard some more. About you fighting basilisks, soul-sucking monsters, dragons, merpeople, evil wizards, more evil wizards, immortal evil wizards..."

Tonks giggled.

"It's not all that funny, Mrs. Tonks. In the world where we live, we expect the police and the teachers to keep students save. You are a police-woman, are you?"

Harry shot in. "Luckily, the Britain where you live is not a third world-country in which every eleven-year old always has a deadly weapon at hand, Mr. Granger."

The dentist waved his hand. "I've had this discussion with my daughter and the Delacours and lost it, too. Still, I don't have to like it."

"So you want me to stop being close to your daughter, yes?" Harry felt dejected, but could understand Mr. Granger's reasoning.

The dentist surprised him by laughing. "Harry, do I look suicidal? Of course, as a father of a girl I am required by law to hate every young man that comes close to my little daughter. You can't hold that against me. But telling you to stop being close to her." He chuckled. "You do have met my daughter, yes? Tell me, what do you think would she do if she were to find out that I told you to stay away from her?"

Mrs. Granger answered. "I'm rather sure you would survive it, darling. She is not truly evil." Then she turned to Harry. "Actually, Harry, we do not want to keep you away from her. She thinks she is in love with you, and there would be no better way to push her away from us. No, we wanted to meet the boy who fascinates her so."

Their drinks arrived, and Harry spent most of the evening trying to explain the rules of quidditch to Mr. Granger, who professed his willingness to forgive the wizard world all dark lords in case he would be able to fly a broom just once. Mrs. Granger was more interested in healing and quickly started a discussion with Tonks about it.

At eleven p.m., the Grangers drove Harry and Tonks back to Privet Drive. Mr. Granger got out of the car and steered Harry to the back of the building, onto the terrace.

„Now, Harry, from what I have heard from Hermione, your uncle was not really someone like a father to you."

Harry nodded to the older dentist.

"So if you allow, I will try to talk to you like I would imagine I would talk to my son – if I had one. And I would like to talk to you about girls and their thinking. The first thing you need to know about girls is that they do not think like us." He smiled. "Even a girl who seems on the outside as rational and smart as Hermione. So if a girl says that she dreams about everlasting love, marriage and kids, what would you say is on her mind?"

Harry shrugged. "I guess you will tell me that it's not everlasting love, marriage and kids?"

Mr. Granger's hand patted Harry's shoulder. "There is hope for you yet! You are right. Now, if you are honest, how would you feel if I asked you to marry Hermione and have kids with her?"

Harry grew beet-red and stammered: "Er… well… you know…?"

"Would utter panic, fear and the impulse to bolt somewhere safe feature among your thoughts?"

Harry nodded, head down. Again, the hand touched his shoulder gently. "Actually, this is the normal way of thinking. You are – none withstanding the fact that your world tries to tell you something different – kids. You might not like to hear that, but you are. And you are in no way ready for the responsibility of marriage and children." He lowered his voice. "Don't tell my wife, but I am not sure if I am yet." He sat back on the lawnchair. "Now, what you kids do need is to fall immortally in love for a few weeks at a time. To kiss around, maybe get into bed with the girl you like, have some sex or not."

He exhaled. "What you should not be seeking is a soulmate you can spend your life with.

Now, you have met my wife. She is a wonderful woman, and I love her dearly. However, there is no week that there is not one moment I could strangle her for something she has done or has not done. And I am rather certain that this is the same for her. We fit well together, but we are not perfect and we accept it. And I need to tell you that I met her when I was 36 and she 31. We had lots of girlfriends and boyfriends before we got together. I had my first sex when I was 16, and my wife was only a little older."

He stroked his chin, collecting his thoughts. "Where was I? Harry, Hermione is not looking for someone who marries her. She looks for a boyfriend to have fun with, to kiss, to hang out, to make her feel the coolest girl alive and maybe to have sex with. You have not heard it from me, but I am rather certain that you would not be the first. And this is good."

Harry held up his hand. "This is going a bit differently than I imagined this talk to go, Sir."

"You were waiting for the "what are your intentions on my daughter and I kill you if you don't marry her" thing?"

Harry nodded.

"Why?"

"Because it's the way I thought you would tick, if you allow me to say so."

"Thought so. Tell me, Harry, would you think any differently of Hermione if she had had sex with Victor when we visited them last summer in Bulgaria?"

Harry had to think about this question. "May I be completely honest with you, sir?"

"Nothing you say tonight will ever come to her ears. I promise you that, and I expect the same courtesy from you."

"I think I would think differently of her, yes. Not that she is a scarlet woman or so."

He was interrupted by Mr. Granger's laughter. "Sorry. You still use the words scarlet woman?"

Harry had blushed, but continued on. "It's more of a thing that I could not really picture her having sex with anyone."

"Ms. Proper and Prim, right? Someone who wouldn't do this because it violates the laws of the universe?"

"Something like this, yes."

"Well, she isn't. Not in her heart of hearts, at least, but to the outside, yes, I can see how you got to this impression. Believe me, it's always the quiet ones. But tell me more. How would this change the way you look at her."

"I think I would be a little bit scandalized. But mostly, it would seem a bit as if she has stepped out of my world and into the adult one."

"Have you ever read Pierce Anthony? He calls it the adult's conspiracy."

"No, I have not, but it sounds like what I want to say."

"Because sex is something so mysterious, magical and the first time is something for the eternity?"

Harry nodded.

The dentist snorted. "I will tell you how my first sex went. I was 16, my girlfriend about the same age. To make a long story short, I came about seven seconds after I entered her, she hurt because her hymen was somewhat too strong. And at the second attempt our condom broke, leaving us to panic for three weeks until she got her bleedings. It was about as close to disaster as you can get. My wife tells the story how her first boyfriend got so excited he couldn't get hard for a few hours, and everyone who is honest will tell you that the first sex is about one of the memories he would like to forget as soon as possible. Second, third and consecutive sex gets better. But still, there is not much mysticism about it. It's fun, and it's pleasant, and it can be a great way to say I love you and I trust you, but there is no magic light coming over you. It might be different with magicals, but I seriously doubt it."

"But my parents married directly after school and everyone tells me how great a couple they were."

"There are some of those. And I would guess that maybe they would still be very much in love, still. But many people who marry directly after school can also grow away from each other. What would have happened to your parents, I don't know. But, and please do not take this as criticism to them – I have never known them – there is a reason that the Roman Catholic church sanctifies only dead people. I am not all good, and neither is my wife. No one I know is. So most likely, neither were your parents. Usually a child can find it out on his own. It's a difficult time, and they call it puberty."

Both sat in silence for a moment, then Mr. Granger sighed. "We have come quite a roundabout way. What I really want to tell you, if you ever have a girl throwing herself on you, smile as widely as you can. Do not talk about marriage, do not talk about kids. Make sure that you two have as much fun as you can and use protection if you decide to have sex. Most likely, you will break up in a few weeks. If you do, do it in such a way that you can still, in a few years time, meet at a bar and have drink together, laughing how childish you had been." He smiled. "You have heard it before, but these years are supposed to be the time you make all these memories you will tell your grandchildren and your great-grandchildren about. And if you don't break up, continue to have fun. Never forget that. Enjoy your life to the fullest, because it is the only one you will ever get."

Harry nodded slowly. "Have I blown my chances with Hermione?"

"No. I don't think so. But you need to learn to relax. And I am not sure if waiting for Hermione until the end of the summer is what you want to do. When you two are next free, give it a try, but do not wait for something that might or might not be the thing. And if you ever need to talk, give me a call or send me an owl." He smiled at Harry. "There is just one thing: If you ever have sex with my daughter, I do not want to know."

After the Grangers had left, Harry lay down on his cot. Was Mr. Granger correct?

"Dear Ernie,

I have had an interesting talk with a muggle today about courtship, friends and marriage. I suddenly understood that I have absolutely no idea about how we wizards go on about it. I know that my parents married directly out of Hogwarts, and I think somehow always expected that every wizard and witch do. I know that there are some couples in our years, but I have never really given any thought about it. I know it's a strange information request, but I would be happy to hear from you about it.

Love,

Harry"