When Harry reentered the house, it was just past six. Ron was in the kitchen, transferring the food to their respective serving dishes. Harry helped by casting warming spells under each one.
Together, they brought the platters to the dining room. Ron and Hermione's home actually had two dining rooms: a formal one with white oak paneling and a less formal one that abutted the conservatory. Hermione had chosen the latter.
The room was spectacular in Harry's opinion. One wall was floor-to-ceiling windows, which provided a lovely view of the garden. The floors were the same, slated grey oak that ran through the rest of the house, but here they also matched the exposed beams in the ceiling. The true centerpiece of the room, however, was the chandelier. It was an intricately carved pair of antlers, small candles resting atop each delicate point.
With a wave of his wand, Harry lit the chandelier. Hermione had also strung lights around the edge of the room and Harry lit these too. A warm glow filled the space, amplified by the cream tablecloth and china with gold accents.
"She wants this done a certain way," Ron said, looking at the dishes. "We should wait or she'll just yell at us."
Harry nodded.
"Reckon we should get dressed then?" Ron said.
"Sure. Left my stuff in my bag..."
Ron went upstairs while Harry collected his things from the cloakroom. Rummaging through his bag, he removed a dark blue dress shirt and dark grey trousers. He hung up his Auror cloak (obscuring the insignia with a spell) and went to change in the guest washroom. Before he stepped out, Harry looked at himself in the mirror.
His hair was graying at the temples but otherwise remained as unruly, black, and dense as ever. Faint lines touched the corners of his eyes and his forehead. His lightning-bolt scar was still there, unchanged. He felt his stomach tighten with nerves.
Would this really work? Would the children remember their parts? Were they going to have to obliviate the Srinivasans before the night was out?
Could he pull off being married to Hermione?
With a sigh, Harry stepped into the hallway. He returned his bag to the cloakroom just as Ron was coming down the stairs.
"How's Hermione coming along?"
"Well, she hadn't started getting ready. Was cleaning until I forced her to stop."
He nodded, digging his hands into his pockets.
Just then, the front door swung open and Ginny appeared.
"Hey! Sorry I'm late."
Harry was about to respond, but stopped. She looked absurdly gorgeous. She wore a black dress with a deep V that clung perfectly to her figure. Her lips were painted crimson. Harry trailed his eyes down her legs.
"Wow, Gin," Ron laughed at her, in the way brothers do at sisters. "Trying to show us up in front of the Muggles?
"You look beautiful," Harry told her, kissing her cheek.
"Thanks," she said coolly. "How're things shaping up?"
Ron shrugged. "Food is done. Just waiting for Daniel and the Muggles."
"Where's Hermione?"
"She's getting ready," said Harry.
"And the kids are all set for tonight?" she asked, moving into the sitting room off from the stairs.
"Yeah," Ron chuckled. "There were some last minute changes. Hugo is now Harry and Hermione's kid for tonight."
"Oh," Ginny said, smiling stiffly. "I guess that makes sense. Hugo looks more like Hermione anyway. Sorry, Ron."
"No, it's true," Ron said ruefully. "He got the Granger genes there."
Harry watched Ginny furtively. Two weeks ago, she hadn't reacted well to the news that Harry and Hermione would be playing husband and wife at the dinner party. Following their recent fight, her reaction was hardly surprising. Harry explained the various reasons why he and Hermione had no choice but to continue the charade, but this did not make Ginny any happier. Yet, she ultimately accepted the plan, though she'd taken on a decidedly chilly attitude towards him since that conversation.
"And Lily?" Ginny asked now.
"She's still your daughter," Ron explained.
"Ah yes," Ginny smirked. "My daughter with my 'husband away on business.'"
It had been decided that Ginny would be a family friend whose partner traveled for work. Ron would be divorced, but the ginger had kept additional details of his character intentionally ambiguous.
Ginny had just seated herself when the doorbell rang. Harry strode to the foyer and opened the door.
Daniel Marin, the former Muggle exchange fellow and Hermione's friend, stood on the doorstep with a bottle of wine in hand.
"Daniel," Harry said warmly, embracing him. "So good to see you."
Daniel was two years younger than Harry and slightly shorter as well. He looked impeccably put together, as always. His black hair matched his black-rimmed glasses with a streak of red running along the side, and he wore a handsome burgundy cardigan over a white dress shirt.
"And there's the man himself!" the architect laughed as he released Harry. "Hermione's husband."
"Now, hold on," Ron chuckled from behind them. "The Muggles aren't here yet."
"Ron!"
Harry stepped back as Daniel threw himself at the redhead. Ron looked somewhat embarrassed and patted Daniel on the back.
"It's good to see you too, mate."
"Well, I'm happy to be here," Daniel said, gazing around the warm foyer. "The place looks great!"
Then, Daniel spotted Ginny, who had just emerged from the sitting room.
"Well, Mrs. Potter. Aren't you stunning?"
Ginny giggled. She was fond of Daniel as well. "You're looking good yourself."
"Well, thank you," Daniel said, kissing her cheek. "You're the first one to say so. These boys have absolutely no manners."
Harry and Ron laughed.
"How's Michael?" Harry asked, holding out his hand for the bottle of wine.
"Oh, he's fine. He's watching Madeline tonight. He really wanted to come."
Daniel's husband was a graphic designer for a London-based magazine. They had a ten-month-old baby girl.
"I'll take your coat, Dan," said Ron.
"Thank you, Ronald. How chivalrous," he said coquettishly, shrugging out of his jacket. He liked making Ron uncomfortable almost as much as Ron liked annoying Daniel.
"Can I get you something to drink?" Harry asked as they moved back to the sitting room. "Hermione's getting ready and the Muggles won't be here for another half hour. I reckon we can save the wine for dinner?"
"Sure, sure," the Muggle said. "If you have any Campari, I'll take that with a soda water."
Harry nodded. "Gin?"
"No gin, please," Daniel said, pulling a face.
"I was talking to Ginny," Harry chuckled.
Daniel and Ginny laughed.
"I'll just have some white wine, darling."
As Harry moved into the hallway, he heard Daniel teasingly say to Ginny: "You're going to have to drop those terms of endearment, aren't you? Or else the poor doctor is going to think you're carrying on an affair…"
Reaching the small bar outside the dining room, Harry pressed the back of his palm against his neck. He felt very warm again. As he fixed Daniel's drink, he heard footsteps on the stairs and his heart jumped in his chest, soda water spilling onto his hand.
Mumbling a curse, Harry mopped up the mess and rummaged through the cabinet for the Campari. Harry was shakily pouring Ginny's wine when he heard a number of "oohs" from the sitting room.
Heart thundering now, Harry strode down the hallway to join the others. Hermione had arrived. She had just released Daniel from a tight hug, but she turned when she heard his footsteps. He stared at her.
She wore a pale silver dress with pink undertones woven into the fabric. It did not cling to her body, but more subtly amplified it. The scooped neck showed her delicate collarbones. The cinched waist flowed into a skirt that perfectly accentuated her torso. She wore little make-up save some mascara and a light gloss on those maddening lips…
She smiled weakly at him before turning back to Daniel.
She's nervous too, Harry realized dimly, unsure why that caused his heart to hammer faster.
"You look gorgeous, darling," Daniel said to her. "Happy birthday."
Hermione smiled shyly. "Thank you. I'm so glad you're here, Daniel. We're going to need a lot of help tonight."
Daniel was about to respond, but Ron interjected. "And we're not going to make it easy for you, Danny boy."
The Muggle raised his brows. "What's your plan?"
"Well, you're our Muggle translator, right? So, I think it's fair to expect you'll have to translate some strange things tonight."
"Ron," Hermione said warningly.
"No, no. It's all right, Hermione," Daniel said, cocking his head to the side. "You think I can't handle whatever you throw my way, Ron Weasley? Nothing shocks me. Do your worst."
"I will," Ron promised, voice comically low.
Hermione groaned as the others laughed. "You two are incorrigible around each other, do you know that?"
Daniel and Ron smiled sweetly.
"Is everything set?" she asked, looking to Harry and Ron.
"We haven't set up the dishes. You said you wanted it a certain way," Ron said.
"Oh, okay. I'll just take a look then."
"Do you need any help?" Daniel asked.
"Oh, no. You stay here and get comfortable." She turned out of the room.
Harry felt the urge to follow, but needed an excuse. "Drink, Ron?"
"Nah. Need my wits about me tonight," the redhead said with a devilish grin directed at Daniel, who merely rolled his yes.
"I'll fix myself one then," he said, trailing out of the room again.
No one noticed him leave and Harry released a breath in the hallway. He thought briefly of going to the bar, but stopped, remembering.
He moved towards the cloakroom instead.
Harry found Hermione in the dining room carefully arranging the dishes and platters in the center of the table. The room was solely lit by candlelight now, the sun having set several minutes before. She looked up as he approached.
"Harry," she said, smiling. That same nervous smile. "Things are nearly set."
"How're we sitting?"
She put her hands on her hips and studied the table, reminding Harry of how she used to review her Ancient Runes essays, searching for ways to make her composition fit within the scroll limit.
"We'll put the kids on one end," she said. "Dr. Srinivasan at the other; he is the guest of honor. We'll put his wife on his left and you and I can sit on his right. Ron and Ginny can sit across from us and Daniel next to Ron?"
"Sounds good," he replied, his eyes on her, not the table.
She glanced at him before she became very focused on aligning the wine glasses.
He swallowed. "Hermione—"
"We'll need some basil," she whispered.
"What?"
"Basil," she repeated. "I have some in the conservatory. I should pick some, right? It'd be a nice touch for the aubergine, don't you think?"
"Yeah."
"Right…I'll be right back."
"I'll come with you."
"Okay." There was a rare tremble in her voice.
Hermione led him to the conservatory at the very back of the house. Harry breathed in damp air and the sweet, loamy scent of decomposition. All the magical plants had been removed, leaving only a few flowering bushes, orchids, and an herb garden along the far wall. The same strands of golden lights that hung in the dining room had also been hung here, among the rafters.
He watched her kneel next to one of the planters along the far wall. She cut a few sprigs and turned to face him.
"Done." She moved towards the door.
"Wait, Hermione. Come here."
She stopped. "What?"
"I've got...I wanted to give you your present."
She looked as though the words hadn't registered, so he withdrew a velvet box from his pocket.
"Oh, Harry," she breathed. "You didn't need to do that. I said no presents..."
"I know," he smiled faintly.
"Thank you." She didn't meet his eyes.
"You haven't seen it yet."
Harry lifted the lid and Hermione let out a small breath.
A delicate necklace rested on pale satin. Dangling from a silver chain was a small sapphire, nestled between two silver wings. The wings were not like a bird's wings, but an angel's. Tall and unfurled, as though thrown back in flight.
"Oh, Harry," she said again. "It's beautiful."
His heart stuttered strangely at her reaction. He had found the necklace while on a routine errand in Diagon Alley. He was having his watch fixed and spotted it tucked into the corner of a display case full of more ostentatious jewelry. He'd bought it with the vague notion that it seemed right for her and that sapphire was her birth stone.
He lifted the necklace from the box. "If you're going into battle, you should have armor."
"Armor?"
He gave her a half-smile. "He might've been having me on, but the man at the shop said the necklace represents Nike, the goddess of victory. Winged victory."
He released the clasp. Hermione went very still as Harry came around her and lifted her hair. His fingers grazed the delicate skin at the nape of neck.
"Nike...victory?" she whispered once he'd secured the clasp.
He nodded, trying not to focus on how the sapphire nestled perfectly in the V of her collarbone.
"Think of it as a talisman. For the trial."
"Ah," she murmured, understanding.
"I've given you a hard time," he said quietly, willing himself not to look away from her. He owed her that. "With the security detail, with suggesting borderline unlawful security measures."
Hermione laughed. "Borderline?"
He smiled. "Thinking about it these last couple weeks, though...I didn't want you to think I don't support what you're doing, that I don't think the case is worth the risk. I think it is. And I'm behind you. I just...I wanted to tell you that."
Hermione's eyes had taken on a bright quality. Slowly, she raised her hand and touched the sapphire with her finger.
"And this will protect me?" she said softly.
"That's the idea."
"Then I'll wear it for every case."
With her response, Harry felt a strange warmth grow in his chest. Something he'd never quite felt before. The warmth seemed to hum and vibrate within him, and he felt a desire—a need—to be close to her, like they'd been in the forest. His eyes traveled to her lips.
"Harry! Hermione!" Ron's voice called distantly. "Where are you? It's nearly time!"
She smiled faintly and held out her hand. "Are you ready, Mr. Weasley?"
"Yes, Mrs. Weasley."
He took her hand.
The others milled nervously in the foyer. The Muggles would arrive any minute.
Hermione laughed upon seeing them. "You're going to scare them away, acting like this."
"They're just nervous," said Daniel, leaning against the wall at his ease.
"Should we call the kids?" Harry asked.
"Sure. I'll go—" said Hermione.
Before she could finish, however, Harry cast his patronus charm. A large silver stag erupted from the tip just as the doorbell rang.
Hermione rounded on him. "What the hell are you doing?"
"Sorry! It was habit!"
Ron was snickering quietly.
Hermione took a deep breath and touched her hair. "Everyone. For the love of god. Act like you're normal."
With a nod from Hermione, Harry opened the door and there were the Srinivasans. The doctor held a bottle of wine, a kind-looking woman and a nervous young boy standing beside him.
"Dr. Srinivasan," Harry said warmly. "Please, come inside. Wonderful to see you again."
"Mr. Weasley," the doctor said. "Good to see you as well."
The three Muggles stepped into the foyer and took in the small crowd awaiting them.
"Oh, what a lovely home," Dr. Srinivasan said politely. "This is my wife, Seema, and our son, Arjun."
Seema wore a beautiful silk sari of deep turquoise embellished with silver thread.
Harry looked at Hermione. He swallowed.
"Please allow me to introduce my wife. Hermione."
There was an expression on Hermione's face that Harry couldn't quite describe. A mixture of heartbreaking gratitude but also familiarity, as if she was greeting a long lost friend.
"Dr. Srinivasan," she said, taking the doctor's hand. "It's such a pleasure to meet the man who saved my life. We're so, so happy to have you here."
Dr. Srinivasan laughed awkwardly. "Well, Mrs. Weasley—first, please call me Amar—and second, I'm sure your husband has already told you, but I seem to be suffering an appalling memory lapse regarding your injury. There's no need to thank the man who can't remember saving you—"
Hermione shook her head, smiling fondly at him. "There's every reason to thank you. Whether you remember me or not, I'm just glad I was in your care that day."
He nodded, reluctantly accepting her praise. "Well, perhaps you can enlighten me tonight as to what exactly your injury was, Mrs. Weasley. I'd love to hear about it," he chuckled.
"It's Hermione," she said kindly, "and of course."
Hermione kissed Mrs. Srinivasan's cheek while Harry began the introductions for the rest of the group.
As Harry introduced Daniel, the children appeared on the landing. Lily wore a white cotton dress, patterned with blue flowers. Hugo, a polo and khaki trousers. Duncan, in his faded tee and dark jeans, looked slightly out of place but not jarringly so.
"This is our son, Hugo," Hermione said to the Muggles. "Lily, here, is Ginny's daughter, and this is Duncan, a friend of the family. Kids, these are the Srinivasans. Can you say 'hello?'"
"Hello," the children muttered in unison.
Dr. Srinivasan gently urged his son forward. "Arjun, can you say 'hi?'"
"Hi," the boy said shyly.
"Well," said Hermione brightly, "now that we're all acquainted, I hope you've brought an appetite. If you'll just follow me…"
She led them down the hallway and when the Srinivasans entered the dining room, Harry heard Seema gasp.
"Oh, how lovely!" she exclaimed. "Oh, how simply beautiful."
Hermione flushed with pleasure. "Dr. Srinivasan…Amar, if you could sit here?"
The doctor stared at his seat at the head of the table. "Oh, no. I couldn't."
"You had better do it, doctor," Ron laughed. "She's the birthday girl."
"Birthday girl?" the doctor repeated.
"Yes," Hermione admitted. "The word 'girl' aside, it is my birthday, so you simply must sit here."
"My dear, all the more reason for you to sit there."
Hermione moved behind the doctor and grasped him firmly by the shoulders.
"Now, I wouldn't even be having a birthday if it hadn't been for you!" she chided as she marched him to his seat.
The doctor yielded and took the proffered chair. The rest took their seats per Hermione's plan. The children were jabbering away, already disinterested in their parents' conversation.
Ron eyed the food. Hermione, however, looked anxiously at her Muggle guests.
"We've made a mutton roast with some vegetables," she said. "But, we also have aubergine parmesan for a vegetarian option."
"All of it sounds wonderful," the doctor said, grinning. "I'd love some of that roast. Smells delicious."
Ron rolled his eyes.
Twenty minutes later, Harry was cautiously optimistic. Nothing embarrassing had happened so far; he could actually see them getting through this night without any jarring revelations or Memory Charms.
Once Harry poured wine for the adults, Dr. Srinivasan asked about their occupations. They had rehearsed this and could give ready answers.
Harry was in law enforcement. Hermione was a public attorney. Ron was a small business owner and entrepreneur. Ginny was a sport reporter, which made her nervous given she knew absolutely nothing about Muggle sport. Fortunately, the Srinivasans did not ask for more information and the conversation turned to the promised topic of Hermione's injury.
Here too, Hermione had a prepared response. It was early August. She had been running near a construction site when she stumbled over a brick and hit her head on the pavement. Thirty-four stitches. Painkillers for days. Hair extensions.
All this the doctor accepted without question.
It was not until halfway through dinner that everything took a strange turn.
"So, tell me," Hermione had said, "where did you grow up Amar? Seema?"
"Bristol," Amar replied, "not too far from one another. Our parents were friends and Seema and I were in school together. It was a close-knit South Asian community, you see. A lot of first, second generation kids. Seema and I started dating in high school and, when I left for uni and medical school, she stayed with me…" He looked at his plate.
"It wasn't so big of an imposition, Amar," she chastised gently, turning back to Harry and Hermione. "Since I was eight, I'd known I was going to marry him."
"What? Like an arranged marriage?" Ron asked bluntly.
Hermione shot daggers at him.
Seema laughed. "No, no. Not exactly. I think our parents had always been fine with the idea, but they never pressured us. Amar wasn't like me, though. I had always been in love with him. He, on the other hand, was hung up on another girl for a long time when we were children."
The doctor looked embarrassed and Ron took the bait.
"Oh, another girl? Tell us more."
"He doesn't like talking about it," Seema laughed. "I knew her too, though. Her name was Padma and she had always been a special girl in our class. She and her twin sister were very beautiful."
Harry and Hermione turned to stare at one other. Ron and Ginny did the same.
No one spoke for a moment.
"Er, Padma…Patil?" Ginny asked cautiously.
"Why, yes," the doctor replied, shocked. "Do you know her?"
"The four of us went to school together," Hermione said haltingly. "Harry, Ron, and I were in her same year."
The doctor and his wife stared at each other. Then, they both burst out laughing. The four wizards exchanged nervous glances. Daniel poured himself more wine.
"Are you telling me you actually know Padma and Parvati Patil?" the doctor asked, wiping at his eyes.
"Why yes," Hermione said slowly. "We've known them since we were eleven. Parvati was in the same Hous-dormitory as us."
"Well, it truly is a small world," said Seema, smiling widely. "So you went to this mysterious school the Patil twins disappeared to?"
There was an uncomfortable silence.
"Er—yes," Hermione replied cautiously.
"That's incredible!" Dr. Srinivasan laughed. "You see, the Patil twins left our school when they were eleven too, but no one really knew where they'd gone. Their parents were strangely quiet about the whole thing. People eventually stopped asking. So, what's the name of this school? What's it like?"
Another awkward exchange of glances. Harry decided to speak.
"Well, it's a…private school. In Scotland. Very small and not many people know about it."
"What's the name?" Seema asked.
"Er…"
Hermione came to his aid. "It's called the…Hogsden School for the…"
"Gifted and Talented," Daniel finished.
The Srinivasans looked puzzled.
"I've never heard of it," Seema said.
"Well, it's very exclusive," Daniel said swiftly. "You need to take an entrance exam and, even then, it's so far that the student body is always very small."
"Oh, I see," she said. "So it's a boarding school?"
"Yes," said Hermione. "I shared the same room with Parvati for six years, so I knew her very well."
"Well, splendid!" the doctor said, smiling. "What're they up to these days, the Patil twins?"
Another round of furtive looks. Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown ran a boutique in Diagon Alley that sold fashionable witches' robes, lingerie, and love potions. No one really knew what Padma was up to.
"Well," Hermione began, "Parvati runs a shop that sells…women's clothes and…cosmetics. I'm not quite sure what happened to Padma. Last I heard she was conducting research in Asia."
"Oh, how lovely," Seema said. "Where is this shop? Perhaps we should stop by and say 'hello,' Amar? I'm sure she'd love to see her old Bristol friends."
"You know," Hermione interjected, "I thought they were located in London, but I recently heard they moved. I have Parvati's contact information. I can let her know I ran into you both and perhaps you can arrange a meeting?"
"Oh, that would be very nice," said Seema. "Despite the fact that Amar fancied Padma, I really liked the Patil twins. They seemed—it's hard to explain—unique?"
The wizards around the table nodded tightly.
Ron, glancing at Daniel, decided to speak.
"You know," he said, "it really is so funny that we're talking about them. You see, Harry and I actually took Parvati and Padma to the school dance at Hogsmore…"
"Hogsden," Hermione corrected.
"Did you really?" the doctor said, grinning. "Who took who?"
"Harry took Parvati. I took Padma. I'm pretty sure I was a miserable date, though, so no worries, doctor," he said cheekily.
The Srinivasans laughed.
"Oh, why would you be a miserable date?" Seema asked kindly.
"Well, I was fourteen and an absolute rubbish dancer. Add that to the fact that I was hung up on Hermione at the time…" he said offhandedly.
The doctor's eyebrows drew together and he glanced at Harry.
Harry stared wide-eyed at Ron.
"That's right!" Hermione said, with forced laughter. "Ron was sort of hoping to have me as a date to that dance, but I went with an...athlete who transferred to the school. This was far before Harry and I became…involved."
"Oh, I see," Dr. Srinivasan chuckled.
"I think you're rewriting history, Hermione," Ron said with a slow, sardonic smile. "It was you who wanted to go with me."
"Oh, really—?"
"Please, let's not go over that again," Harry laughed, only half-joking. "Seema," he said, giving the woman his most disarming smile, "we know what your husband does. What about you?"
As Seema described her career with a book publishing firm, Harry released a slow breath. He felt Hermione relax beside him.
Five minutes later, however, Mrs. Srinivasan was asking about Ginny's husband.
"Oh, he's away on business," she replied automatically. "He truly wanted to be here, but unfortunately this was his only opportunity to go…"
"Well, your daughter—Lily?—she's absolutely beautiful," Seema said, smiling as she looked at the other end of the table. "All that lovely red hair. It's gorgeous."
Ginny gave a genuine smile. "Thank you."
"And what about you, Ron? Do you have any children?" Amar asked.
"Why, yes," said Ron, placing his chin in his palm. "I have an eleven-year-old daughter named Rose. She's off at Hogsland now, of course. She very clever, just like her mother—but also like her mother, she's left me."
"Oh?" the doctor said awkwardly. He quickly took a sip of wine.
Ron put on a devilish smile. Sometimes, you could really tell he was the brother of Fred and George Weasley.
"Yes, my wife and I divorced three years ago," Ron said with sarcastic despair. "It was a rather rocky marriage, if I'm being honest. She was beautiful—like phenomenally beautiful—blonde, very tall…The best sex I've had in my life, I don't mind telling you—"
"Ron!" Hermione cried, glaring at him.
He ignored her. He was watching Daniel's expression.
"You see," he continued, "she left me for another bloke. An American. But it's all right, because he was an…astronaut and a…ninja. So, I never really stood a chance, did I?"
A ringing silence met Ron's words.
Hermione and Ginny began to laugh nervously. Daniel merely rolled his eyes.
"You know, that actually is true," the Muggle said easily. "Ron's wife did, in fact, leave him for a man who worked at NASA in the States. He wasn't an astronaut, per se, more of an engineer. And, well, he did know karate. Ron just likes to say he was an astronaut ninja. It sounds better."
"Oh," Seema said weakly, "well that's—"
"Tragic?" Ron finished. "I know. They now run a ninja camp together for baby astronauts."
"Er," Daniel laughed, gripping Ron's shoulder very tightly. "What Ron means is that they run a small karate center for the children of NASA employees. 'Baby astronauts?' Oh, Ronald, you're just so hilarious."
"Well, I try," Ron replied sweetly, stretching his shoulder.
"Voh paagal hai?" Dr. Srinivasan whispered to his wife.
"Shaayad sirf ajiib. Paagal nahi," she muttered back.
Harry glanced at Hermione, who'd pressed her fingers against the corners of her eyes.
"Er, right," he said. "Amar, you never told us how you came to settle in London…"
Taking Harry's cue, the doctor looked happy to refocus the conversation away from ex-wives and astronauts.
"Oh, well, you see, Seema had gotten into the book publishing business, as she said. There isn't a big presence for that in Bristol, so we moved to Guildford—"
"Oh, I used to live in Surrey," said Harry.
"You did? Well, we were practically neighbors then, weren't we?"
Several minutes later, there was a painful conversation about Brexit, which was far above Harry's head. Fortunately, Hermione held her own thanks to a recent conversation with her parents and several assists from Daniel. Then, they returned to the topic of the publishing industry. Hermione was keenly interested in Mrs. Srinivasan's career at a small London-based publishing house.
"Well, when I joined the publishing world, books were already a dying commodity," Seema lamented, cutting into an asparagus spear.
"What d'you mean?" Hermione asked, alarmed.
"Well, a publishing company has to diversify if it's to survive these days. Audio books, e-books, Google account access, you know, the like…"
Nothing the woman said seemed to make sense to Hermione. "I'm sorry…don't you just print books, you know, on paper?"
Seema laughed. "Oh, I wish. Sales of physical books have been plummeting for years now, didn't you know? It's 2017. We can't expect people to go back to hard cover now."
Hermione looked stricken. "No books…"
"Oh, it's all right, dear!" Seema said, startled by Hermione's expression. "People are still reading. That's why we have e-books, after all. They're very convenient even if they are lacking in the romance of turning pages and writing in margins..."
"An e-book?" Hermione repeated.
Seema looked strangely at her. "Why, yes, haven't you heard of it?"
"She has," Daniel stepped in, staring intently at Hermione. "You remember. I showed you my e-reader the other day, Hermione. The Kindle Oasis?"
"Oh, yes…your e-reader," she said as though the word caused her physical pain. "That sounds lovely."
Harry chuckled.
Mrs. Srinivasan smiled. "I've been hogging the conversation with all this talk of books and publishing. It's not really very interesting. I'd much rather hear about you two," she said to Harry and Hermione. "I'm guessing you met at that school of yours? Do you mind my asking how you came to fall in love? I just love those stories."
Hermione stiffened at Harry's side. There was a light clink. Ginny's fork had slipped from her fingers.
"How we fell in love?" Hermione repeated softly.
Seema nodded, expectant.
Hermione looked quickly around the table. At Ron's smirk. At Daniel's slight grimace (this was not a topic he could help her with). At Ginny, who was looking at her plate.
Harry pressed his knee against hers under the table.
She blinked.
"Well, where to start!" Hermione laughed uneasily. "You're right, Seema. We met on the train to school; we were very young, just eleven. Harry's glasses had broken and I fixed them. We didn't really become friends until—well—I got myself into a bit of trouble." She smiled ruefully. "Harry saved me and we became good friends, best friends really...That sort of developed, strictly platonically, for a long time…and well, Harry?"
He jerked. He hadn't expected her to pass the story to him.
"Right—er—yeah, that's how it was for a long time. We were just friends. But then..."
And, for some reason, their time on the run came to him. He thought of a tent, of hours debating and weighing options. Faint and indistinct, there was something else...a graveyard, a wreath of roses...
"We were traveling...abroad," he said, staring at the tablecloth. "Just camping, really. But we spent a lot of time alone together for the first time. Away from school, away from our friends. Just away. One thing led to the next and..."
He could feel Hermione's eyes on him.
"So, that's how it happened," he murmured. "It's hard to say when the actual shift was, but...once it happened, it seemed ridiculous we hadn't seen it before. Anyway, yeah…"
The doctor nodded. Seema let out a contented sigh.
"I can understand that," Amar said. "I've always thought the strongest relationships are built on deep friendships. I mean, that's essentially our story." He smiled fondly at his wife. "There are just some things you can't go through without ending up liking each other, you know?"
Harry nodded, feeling warm.
"How did he propose, Hermione?" Seema asked eagerly.
Hermione, who'd still been looking at him, jumped slightly and turned back at the older woman.
"Oh, it was…" she hesitated, face curiously flushed. "It was perfect. He took me to a place that was…very important for both of us. A forest we both know well. He—he had lit...candles so the whole space was filled with golden light. And he got on one knee. It was that simple. I said 'yes.'"
"How romantic," Seema said dreamily. "You proposed in a restaurant, Amar."
"A very nice restaurant."
Laughter broke out again.
Their knees still touched under the table and Harry felt a warm bead of heat juddering between them. He looked up and saw Daniel watching him strangely. He then caught Ginny's eye, but she looked away.
Ron cleared his throat. "So, how about some dessert?"
There were appreciative murmurs around the table, at least the children stopped their conversation for a moment.
Ron stood and looked meaningfully at Harry, which he took to mean to follow.
Once the kitchen door closed behind him, Harry immediately said, "I'm sorry. I didn't know what I was saying."
Ron laughed. "Merlin, that was painful. You handled it well, though. No one could tell you were lying."
Harry nodded, feeling preternaturally warm.
"Here, come help," he said, lifting a large box out of the icebox. "We've got to put candles in."
"I didn't know you got a cake."
"Yeah, well the bakery is just outside of the shop. Why not?"
Harry lifted the lid. His eyes widened slightly.
It was obvious the cake had come from a magical bakery. The frosting was like an intricately designed, moving picture. It showed pixies roaming a forest glen, a trickling stream of frosting representing a waterfall in the background.
"Er, Ron, is this cake suspicious?"
Ron came forward, holding a box of candles. "Oh, right," he frowned. "I didn't think about that. Should we save it for later?"
Harry considered the cake. "No. We could try stunning it?"
Ron shrugged. "That seems to be the solution to everything these days."
"Stupefy," Harry muttered at the icing. Immediately, the pixies and the waterfall froze in place.
In silence, Ron and Harry stuck candles into the gooey surface, which had the added benefit of covering more of the frosting. They heard faint laughter in the next room.
"Hermione's going to kill you about the astronaut-ninja thing," he muttered.
"Hey," Ron said with mock defensiveness, "there are very few things I know about Muggles, but I have heard about astronauts and ninjas. Probably the greatest things Muggles have ever done. In fact, if I had to be a Muggle, I'd probably be one of those two things. When do I get to talk about ninjas and astronauts in everyday conversation? I'll tell you when. Never."
Harry couldn't help laughing. "I didn't know it meant that much to you."
"Well, it does," Ron grinned sardonically.
Harry chuckled. "If you explain it like that, I'm sure she'll understand."
Ron made a derisive noise. "Yeah, like Hermione's understands anything I do these days."
Harry glanced at his best friend. He wasn't joking.
"I think we have thirty-eight," Ron said, removing his wand to light the candles. "You should carry it, mate. I'll get the door for you."
Harry and Ron reentered the dining room a moment later. Upon catching sight of the lit cake, Lily jumped up in her seat.
"Happy birthday to you!" she sang in her high, clear voice. Soon, the entire table joined her.
Hermione smiled weakly as Harry set the cake in front of her. She quickly blew out the candles and the room broke into applause, the smoke twisting around the glowing antlers of the chandelier.
Hugo slipped out of his chair and planted a kiss on his mother's cheek.
"Thank you, everyone," Hermione said, absently rubbing Hugo's back. "So many candles."
Everyone laughed, but Hermione turned to look at the doctor.
"I especially want to thank you, Amar," she said, her eyes very bright. "You are truly the man who deserves all the honor tonight. For what you did for me…I won't ever forget that."
The doctor shook his head, unaccustomed to the intensity of Hermione's praise. The group was silent for a moment until Hugo spoke.
"So…the cake, mum?"
Hermione laughed with the others.
"Yes, yes. Enough of your speeches, birthday girl!" Daniel chuckled. "Cut the cake."
As Hermione led her Muggle guests to the lounge for a nightcap, Harry quietly returned Duncan to St. Mungo's. When he returned to Ron and Hermione's home, it was close to midnight and the Srinivasans were preparing to leave.
"Oh, Harry!" Seema exclaimed upon seeing him. "Hermione said you were dropping Duncan. So glad we could catch you before we left!" She kissed his cheek and took both his hands. "You and your wife are two of the most enchanting people I've ever met. I mean that, honestly. I hope this won't be the last time we see you both?"
"Oh," said Harry, feeling his face flush, "of course not."
As she released him, he heard Amar say to Hermione, "Thank you for having us. I always enjoy meeting my patients in less…serious circumstances. I'm so glad you're feeling better."
Hermione beamed and embraced him, which the doctor returned.
"Arjun," Seema called, waving a hand towards her son. "Chale. Hum jaana hai."
The boy looked reluctant to leave but came to his mother's side. The group followed as they moved towards the door, waving and calling out goodbyes. Again, Harry heard the Muggle couple speak to one another in a language he didn't understand.
"Veh dono humsafar hain. Bahut spasht hai," Seema said quietly to her husband. She turned and smiled softly at Harry and Hermione.
"Jaanta hu," he replied.
The wizards and Daniel watched as they got into their car and drove away, the taillights gradually disappearing into darkness.
Closing the door, Harry saw Hugo and Lily gallop up the stairs, both on a sugar high from the cake.
"Well, that was something," Ron said, rubbing his neck. "I liked those Muggles, but Merlin, it's exhausting to keep that charade up."
Daniel chuckled. "They were here for five hours and the most outlandish thing you could come up with was that your ex-wife married an astronaut-ninja?"
"Hey," he shrugged. "I can't seem them forgetting that anytime soon."
Hermione sighed, kicking off her heels and putting on her usual slippers. They clashed amusingly with her dress.
"Yes, it could've been much worse," she said, turning to Daniel. "You were incredible. I completely froze when Seema started talking about the electric books. But honestly, what a ridiculous concept!"
"It's my pleasure, love," Daniel laughed. "Apart from Ronald, you all made my job easy." He glanced at the clock by the staircase. "I should probably head back and relieve Michael. Thanks so much for having me."
As Daniel got his coat, Ron asked Ginny if she wanted listen to the end of the Wasps-Puddlemore match.
"Just a few minutes," she agreed, glancing at Harry.
As Ron led her to the projection room upstairs, Harry removed his wand and lowered the lights in the sitting room and foyer.
Left alone with Harry and Hermione, Daniel watched them, worrying his lip.
"Would you..." he said, a pained look in his eyes. "I didn't want to mention it earlier, but could I ask you something?"
"What?" said Hermione, immediately concerned.
Daniel dug his hands into the pockets of his coat. "You haven't met her, but my sister, Margot, has a daughter. Claire. My niece."
They both nodded.
"Well, Margot called me yesterday. She said…she said Claire had turned her toothpaste to ice-cream."
"What?" said Hermione.
"Yeah," Daniel nodded, looking down. "Margot thinks it's another sign. Claire really hates brushing her teeth, you see, and she was angry with her mum when the toothpaste changed. I know it's a silly thing, but could it—does it mean she has it?"
Harry and Hermione shared a glance.
"How old is Claire?" asked Hermione.
"Six."
She nodded, biting her lip. "Most wizards start showing around then."
"That's what I thought," he said softly. "It's been happening more frequently, which I think is scaring Margot. She's always been a bit more wary of...all this than I have. I think she thought—or hoped—that since mum is a Squib..."
"It shows up in strange ways," Hermione said gently. "I think the last person in my family who was magical was my father's great uncle. There's really no telling…"
Harry looked at Daniel closely. The younger man, usually so at ease around wizards, seemed deeply troubled that his niece could be a witch. Perhaps his concern was justified. If she was, it would change everything for their family. Instead of the neighborhood school, she'd attend a wizarding academy for seven years. She would read things, talk about things, do things that her parents could never fully understand. Once she graduated, her parents would have to lie every time someone asked what their daughter did for a living. When she got married, they wouldn't even recognize the wedding vows…
For Muggle parents, their hopes and expectations for their magical child had to shift dramatically, or else fall apart completely. Not all Muggle families knew how to cope.
"Would you like me to owl Hogwarts?" Hermione was saying. "They keep a registry of all magical children born each year. I can ask if Claire's name is on the list."
"Would you?" said Daniel with relief. "I think we just want to know one way or the other...so we can prepare."
"Of course. I'll write tomorrow."
Daniel nodded gratefully. "I've kept you so late. I'd best be off. It was great to see you."
He hugged them both. As he opened the door, however, he looked back and gave them a wry smile. "You know, you two make a good married couple. Most convincing performance of the night."
He laughed at their stunned expressions and shut the door behind him. Harry and Hermione said nothing until they heard the sound of a distant car engine roaring to life.
She cleared her throat. "Well. Apparently we did a good job."
"Apparently."
They glanced at each other and that same bead of warmth seemed to return, growing and stretching between as it had beneath the table.
"Good birthday, then?" he asked quietly.
She nodded. "One to remember. Should we find Ron and Ginny? Should probably get the kids in bed."
Harry nodded, but he felt suddenly desperate...
He didn't want her to leave. He felt a need to be close to her, if only for the smallest of moments. He glanced at the clock next to the stairs. It was two minutes to midnight.
"Come here a second," he said softly and opened his arms.
She hesitated for a moment, but then she came easily, like surrendering to gravity.
"Happy birthday, Mrs. Weasley," he murmured into her curls.
Hermione shook with gentle laughter against his chest. It felt incredible.
"Thank you, Mr. Weasley."
Releasing his hold on her slightly, Harry tilted his head towards the clock.
"Looks like I've got two more minutes of being your husband. Is that enough time to sleep with you, you think?"
She made a sound halfway between a gasp and laugh. "I should hope not…"
The foyer was dark, but there was a radiance to her skin, Harry thought, and her eyes had that same limitless quality he remembered from the forest. He felt he could look at them forever and still would not understand what it meant.
"Then I'll have to settle for a kiss."
Her eyes widened before flying to his lips. She stiffened in his arms. "Don't you think you and I have had enough of kissing for a while?"
Harry was unsure where the words came from. He only knew they were true for himself.
"Have you had enough?"
She closed her eyes. Her hands were resting on the front of his chest and Harry felt certain she would push him away. But, when she opened her eyes, she shook her head slowly.
"You're ridiculous," she whispered. "One kiss. And only because you're my husband for the next two minutes."
Her words seemed to take a moment to settle but, when they did, Harry felt a great wave of warmth through his body. His senses seemed to heighten and narrow at the same time until everything was the feel of her in his arms, the sound of her shallow breath, the gentle, maddening curve of her lips.
"All right," he murmured.
He felt himself reach up to hold the delicate line of her jaw. He let his thumb drag across her cheekbone and her eyes slipped shut. He lowered his lips to hers.
The kiss was slow and gentle, not the desperate insanity of the first in the forest. Again, he was struck by the softness, the incredible warmth. It was Hermione who opened her mouth first, sending a dark chill through him, and as Harry angled her head, she let out a soft moan that Harry felt in his spine.
Everything about this felt overwhelmingly good. Overwhelmingly right.
But then, from a haunting distance, a chime broke the silence of the foyer. It was midnight. Their charade was over.
But they didn't stop.
The clock began to strike the hours.
One.
Harry pulled away for a moment, catching his breath. He returned hungrily to her lips as she pulled him down to her again.
Two.
Their lips fought with desperate urgency and Harry felt himself harden with every soft whimper that left her lips.
Three.
Hermione's hand touched his jaw now, directing the kiss.
Four.
He slid his hand along the curve of her waist, his thumb just grazing the swell of her breast.
Five.
Hermione pulled away and Harry let out an involuntary moan.
Six.
She smiled faintly before pressing a softer kiss to his lips.
Seven.
She started to pull away again, attempting to create space between them. Harry only held her tighter, like a drowning man.
Eight.
He lowered his head and pressed his lips to her neck. His breath brushed her own erratic pulse.
Nine.
"Harry," she whispered. She was shaking beneath his touch. Her hands were on his shoulders, as though to push him away. Yet, she did not.
Ten.
His tongue flicked across her pulse.
Eleven.
"Harry," she said again, as though frightened.
Twelve.
Harry lifted his head, the last chime echoing in the air. They stared at each other, breathing hard. Even now, he wanted to take her lips again. He had not had enough. Not remotely.
"Why do we keep doing this?" she whispered.
"Do we have to ask that question?" he said, unthinking.
She slowly stiffened in his arms. "We're cowards if we don't ask that question."
Her words hung in the air between them.
"Hermione, I—"
Just then, they heard the sound of Lily's voice and two sets of footsteps in the hallway upstairs.
Hermione pushed him away. Hard. She straightened her skirt and smoothed her hands over her curls. Harry turned towards the wall, trying to compose himself. He pressed a cool palm against his neck.
A moment later, Ginny and Lily appeared on the landing.
"Wasps won," Ginny told them smugly, reaching the bottom step. "Wasn't close."
"That's great," Hermione said weakly. She didn't look at Ginny. She reached down to embrace her niece.
Harry was able to construct a neutral expression on his face by the time his wife came to his side.
"Ready to go?"
He nodded, not yet trusting his voice. He followed Ginny and Lily to the cloakroom. While Ginny helped Lily into her jacket, Harry returned his gaze to Hermione. Her face was indecipherable but he thought he could pick out several emotions: shame, fear...and something like anger.
Harry opened his mouth, but Hermione, with an infinitesimal movement of her neck, shook her head.
"Thanks for having us," Ginny called to her sister-in-law. "Certainly was an interesting evening."
Hermione laughed tightly. "Yes. Thanks so much for coming."
Following his wife and daughter, Harry looked back at her one more time. The dim glow from the foyer lit her from behind, setting her hair aglow.
He wanted to say something. Desperately. He just didn't know what.
"Harry?" Ginny called.
He turned away and descended the last steps. He heard the door shut behind him, plunging his vision into darkness.
Lily took his hand and they disapparated.
Even through the whirlwind, he could feel the warmth of her lips against his own.