The Heartbreaker
They were sitting in the cafeteria on the 11th floor of the British ministry. His lips folded around the rim of the mug that supported burning hot coffee, hers chewing mindlessly on a strawberry glazed, Hippogriff shaped muffin.
"Any plans for tomorrow?"
She gave a shake of the head, jaw moving up and down as she continued to devour the sweet. He mimicked her motion as she pointed a finger at him.
"No, that's why I asked you."
She took a sip of water to drown the contents faster. "What's on your mind?"
He blew a long breath, tapping his fingers on the wooden table. "Could take the tube to Paris or travel via portkey if you don't care for the journey."
"And what will we do in Paris?"
He gave a light shrug. "You tell me, you're the one who lived there for five years."
She contemplated, her tongue flicking insistently in the corner of her mouth to scrape the taste of strawberry. "We could visit The Louvre. You love to learn about history so that would be my first choice."
"Done."
"Cool."
"I also wanted to go to the underground Dueling club below the Eiffel Tower."
She chuckled. "Of course you would."
"Have you ever been?"
"Oh, many a times. In fact, there was a time when I used to visit every night."
"To compete or just watch."
"Mostly to watch but I have competed."
"How did you do"
"I only lost once."
"How many times did you compete?"
"Six."
"Nice."
"How did you lose."
"I got distracted."
"Really?"
"Hmm."
"I'm dying to hear the story behind this."
"Not much of a story actually. He just had the best legs I'd ever seen on a man."
He gave out a hearty laugh that had her lips curled up.
"Then get ready for your second defeat because you'll be going against me this time." His cheeks burned in embarrassment as she saw realization dawn in his emerald orbs.
Her left eyebrow raised in a challenge. "Quite presumptuous of you to think that I'd be distracted by anything you have to offer."
"One can certainly hope." he muttered under his breath.
She leaned forward, resting her weight on her forearms before her whispering voice filled the tense air around them. "How about we cancel the trip and I come over to your place in the evening and you show me how well and long you can distract me? What do you say to that, Mr. Potter?"
He let out an audible gulp, face set in determination. "Please come by around six. It takes a while to prepare roast chicken...with a side of chips, of course."
Her laughter floated to every corner of the cafeteria.
13 months later
"And that's how you came to be, son." Harry pinched the cheeks of the boy cradled in his arms, trying and failing to pinch his dad's nose. "You see son, they don't just call me The Heartbreaker for nothing. This smile -" He pointed at his winning smile as the one year old kept staring at him with a curious gaze. "has been the cause of lots of heartbreaks around the world. One day, I'll teach it to you too." He flicked the boy's nose who began clapping his hands enthusiastically. "That's right. Papa's got you covered so don't you worry in the girl's department - or any department - cause you'll be learning from the master himself, or as the world refers to your dad, The Heartbreaker."
"Mr. Heartbreaker! The chicken isn't going to cook itself." A shrill voice echoed from down the hallway. "If you're done boasting about your charm with the opposite sex could you please pop into the kitchen and do the one thing you're actually good at!"
"Coming darling!"