As a reminder, you can find MORE of this on my SubStar (dot adult slash KajaWilder), it's posted up past FWB2 Ch. 20 there... And if you guys haven't seen an update in at least a week, please let me know! I have a busy life, and I get distracted and forget things. This story (as well as ZpoW and PTaL) are supposed to be updated WEEKLY!

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Note: My apologies, this chapter isn't the long one, but next. This one's more medium.

Chap. 102: An Impromptu Party

Planning a party, it turned out, was not as simple as walking across the street and picking up a few supplies from the local market. It was unfortunate, as that was largely what Harry had anticipated. But the moment he had mentioned the word 'party', Hermione, Fleur, Katie, and Orla had flown into a tizzy. His invitations, it turned out, were entirely inadequate, and he was forced to summon Dobby back, have him collect the invitations he had already dropped off (with an emphasis on telling the one person who had read theirs already, Neville, that another, better one would be coming shortly), and then return.

The next step was a guest list. Fifty or so people, the women excited about the prospect concluded, was 'a decent number' for a venue of the size Harry's new home represented. For nearly an hour, his own input was minimal though both Fleur and Hermione insisted he be there, while Lilith, amused, sat nearby drinking tea placidly as she conversed with Sirius and the Grangers.

At least he didn't have to participate, just thinking of being surrounded by fifty people when he had thought of ten or so was dizzying to Harry. Actually remembering the names of and thinking up fifty people he could invite seemed like a monumental task.

Then he found out there would be (gasp!) strangers there. People he hadn't even met, but which all four of the women, and Mrs. Granger too, insisted he would have to meet soon given his situation. When he heard their rationale, Harry had to admit, quite reluctantly, that they were right. He would definitely have to meet with Cyrus and Ophelia Greengrass, and almost certainly with Mr. and Mrs. Patil, too.

Luna's father, Xenophilius Lovegood, would be invited too. And since there were going to be a few parents of potential ladies, Hermione and Fleur only thought it appropriate that he invite all of his potential ladies or friends, and allow them to bring a 'plus one' as well, or parents if they wished. So, with his head in his hands, Harry repeated verbatim what the girls told him to have Dobby scribe down, and then copy with elf-magic onto nearly seventy-five invitations, anticipating that some would not be able to accept.

It was a simple enough message, all-told, but just remembering it after Dobby had been sent off to, once again, send invites was enough to give Harry anxious tremblings in his stomach.

The Weasleys of course, which might seem strange since Harry was sure they were already on their way and would arrive in moments. Remus (Sirius truly had not needed to insist), along with Tonks, and her parents. Millicent, Cassius Warrington, her (betrothed? Boyfriend?), and of course Pansy, Tracey, Daphne, and Tracey and Daphne's parents. Pansy would, of course, not appreciate bringing her own since she was effectively disowned and might prefer it that way. Lavender, plus two parents, Parvati and Padma, and their own, Hestia and Flora Carrow (whom Harry would not have suggested, but that Katie had insisted on based on 'a rumor she heard'). That had led to Romilda and her parents being invited, so that Harry could try, once more, to make things right between them or what he'd done to the girl by accident.

Inviting Remus had led to Sirius suggesting a few other teachers, 'for old times' sake', so that he might be social outside of an Order of the Phoenix meeting. Less than a minute later, McGonagall, Flitwick, Hagrid, Sprout, Slughorn, and even Professors Babbling, Vector, and Sinistra had been invited. With Neville, it was only polite they invite his grandmother, and Hannah and her parents too. Susan, though unfortunately they could not invite Madame Bones. It would be difficult for her to attend.

Katie had requested that they invite her best friend, Leanne, which Harry had been happy to comply with. Dean had been floated, but Hermione had actually shot that down, having heard that he had left the country with his family after Yule, since his own best friend, Seamus Finnegan, had been crushed by a train car in the attack on King's Cross. A last few, Lee Jordan and Angelina Johnson, and Mad-Eye Moody, were invited to round out the number, along with a dozen friends of friends from school Harry could not hope to keep track of the names of.

It was hopeless.

Dear [Insert name here],

You are cordially invited to attend a House-Warming Party for Mr. Harry J. Potter, this evening at six of the clock. The Floo Address is, "The Crockery," and if needed, an elf can be provided for assistance in Apparition. If you are receiving this invitation, you will be able to bypass the protections placed around Mr. Potter's home this evening. You may bring a single guest, or two parents.
Gifts are not needed, though they would be appreciated and accepted gracefully.

Dinner and refreshments will be served.

We hope you can attend.

Sincerely,

And then Harry had to sign each and every one. It was... trying. Eighty, in all, had to go out, and his hands ached by the end of it.

But his torture was not done there.

Meal planning, with Winky going out to procure the supplies and then begin cooking, while Fleur and Katie set about preparing guest rooms, and procuring a supply of both beers and wines for the meal and afterward. Too late, Fleur remembered to invite her own family, but begged off sending out more invitations. "Zhey will not be offended, 'Arry. Zh- They would likely not be able to attend anyway. Gabrielle will be sad, if she learns of eet, but she will get over eet."

Then decor. So much decor.

Nothing truly fancy, but wreaths and garlands of flowers and potted plants were hung about the dancing area that had been freshly laid into the grass behind the house. Lights- both fairy lights and some relatively cheap but nice looking ones from the local outdoor and landscaping store, rigged up by Hermione's father thanks to his own handiness around the house and familiarity with the muggle outlets that most of the people present had no real functional knowledge of. Three punch bowls, a fondue fountain for later, and even a rented soda fountain so that the wizard-folk could experience the delights of a bubbly soft drink, and a hundred other small changes were made.

It was enough to leave Harry not just dizzy, but to make his head truly spin as the many women and Sirius got into the planning. Eventually, it all boiled down to Mr. Granger asking Harry a very pointed question. "So, how're your skills with a grill?"

"Er... I mean, I can cook a burger, or a steak, but I've never used an outdoor grill. That was the one thing my uncle always insisted on."

"A travesty, then," Mr. Granger pronounced, then called, "Emma, I'm taking Harry to the grocer myself for grill supplies! Tell that elf, Wanky, or whatever her name was, that Harry and I are taking care of the meat for the main course!"

"Of course, dear," she replied.

Before they got far, Hermione had run up to Harry and embraced him, but while he hugged back, she had ulterior motives. "Daddy's great with a grill, Harry," she whispered in his ear, "But he's going to want to interrogate you, too. Just... just be honest, I suppose, and try not to let him fluster you."

"Er, A- Alright," Harry hissed back, "Anything I should watch for...?"

"Maybe tell him you've no plans to knock me up just yet," she giggled softly back, then louder, "I know he knows, but it might help to hear it again. Have fun, Harry. Daddy, be nice, or I'll be cross."

"Yes, dear," the girl's father chuckled, then threw his arm around Harry's shoulder in a way that only Sirius had ever truly done that he could remember. "We're off. Should be back in plenty of time."

Sitting in the front seat of the Granger's shiny black Range Rover, Harry felt more than a little out-of-place, however. They were almost down the winding roads that led from the affluent neighborhood Harry found himself living in to the busier surface streets of a bustling downtown business district, one of thousands like it in the small towns that dotted the United Kingdom's countryside. Mr. Granger, as he was every time Harry had interacted with him, was as soft-spoken, intelligent man with a dry (very British) wit, who nevertheless would have made Vernon Dursley furious with every interaction.

Maybe that was why he liked Mr. Granger. The thought made Harry smile, apparently obviously enough that Hermione's father stopped the small-talk for a moment and glanced Harry's way, "What's so funny?"

He turned a little pink, and answered, "Er, n- Nothing, really. I just had a thought. My Uncle and you would really not get along."

Seeing the concern on Mr. Granger's face, Harry hurried to clarify, "No, not in a bad way. I- Let's just say I don't get along well with him myself. He's the type to value a shiny black automobile, and pay premium petrol prices, but not understand how to take care of it, or why you shouldn't put the most expensive petrol in most autos."

"Sounds like we wouldn't get along then," Mr. Granger chuckled, "I'm hardly a car fanatic, but I know how to change my own oil, and even my brakes if I have to."

Harry whistled, "That sounds hard."

"Eh. Not really, you just have to have been taught, or know how to look up the information and be brave enough to try. Of course, while doing your oil improperly might ruin your engine- those are expensive to fix- not doing your brakes right might get you or even other people killed. So if you really don't know what you're doing, it's best to leave it to the professionals."

"I... see."

Mr. Granger smiled over at him, "You don't need to be scared, you know. Hermione's terrified you'll let something slip, but remember, Emma and I have already met Lilith. I know the kind of young man you are, Harry, it's not going to surprise me. Unless of course Hermione's pregnant, and then you and I'll probably have more than words."

Harry turned scarlet.

Daniel Granger turned very, very pale, and he suddenly turned on his blinker and pulled to the side of the road, making a man behind him lay on the horn as he passed, then flip a very Scottish gesture his way through the window as he said something unkind. "You... She- She's not... is she?"

Harry's mouth twitched.

Mr. Granger's eyes narrowed. "You're having me on."

"Damn," Harry said under his breath, "I was trying to relieve the tension."

All the same, the older man's shoulders sagged as he took a deep, very slow breath. "Thank the Lord. I don't know what I'd have done... nothing against you, Harry. I know you're a decent sort. And, believe it or not, I am not going to remind you to treat my daughter right, or we'll have more than words again. I know you better than that, I think. Just watching the two of you talk to each other is... well, a bit of an inspiration. You're more mature than I was at your age, that's for sure."

This time, Harry's blush was entirely genuine.

"I mean it," Mr. Granger continued, as he checked for other drivers before pulling back out onto the street, "I was at least twenty-five before I was ready to settle down, and my older brother thinks I'm still not really ready. Of course... he knows a few things about me that not many do. He doesn't approve, but he knows."

"Like what?" Harry asked, before he realized exactly how forward that could sound. "Er, Not that you have to tell me, or anything. It's not my business."

The muggle man nodded, "It's true, it's probably not... yet. But I like to think I'm a level-headed man. I like to think you're going to marry my daughter one of these days, be my son-in-law. Am I wrong in that assumption?"

"N- No," Harry replied quietly, looking pointedly out the window. He wasn't sure exactly why the small shops they were passing on the way to the grocer were suddenly so much more interesting. "I... I want to be with her forever."

"Good. I know, it's a bit odd for a young man like yourself to mean that. Especially one in your... unique situation. But Hermione, Emma, and I have all talked about it before, the extreme likelihood that a young man- a wizard- and a witch will find their future spouse- or mate, or whatever- in the later years of school. It's not what I'd consider normal, and I'm not at all totally comfortable with it. But, Emma and I agree. Hermione is a smart girl, and she knows what she wants. You are not the duplicitous sort, so we feel we can tell the kind of person you are, too. So... it's not ideal. It's not what we'd have wanted for her even a year ago. But both of us sort of always suspected it'd be you or Ron."

Harry coughed. "Er... I hadn't... shit. Sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"If it's you and me, Harry, I don't mind if you curse. Emma cares about that sort of thing a lot more than I do, and Hermione more than her. What's the matter?"

Harry smiled gratefully, "I... Well, we've said how we're sort of all... together. I don't know if Hermione and Ron have... well, have talked. A- About their... or a..."

"About their future?"

Harry nodded quietly, impressed by the older man's insight. Daniel Granger smiled, a bit ruefully, but nodded. "For years and years, it was always about the two of you in her letters. This last year, it's still much the same... but the tone has shifted. She loves him. There's no doubt in my mind. But how she loves him... that's changing. At least, it feels like it to me. You? Well, it's not my business to say, but... Look, Harry. Just between you and me, man to man? Literally, no one ever finds out about this, especially not Hermione or Emma?"

"Yes, Sir," Harry nodded, wide-eyed at what bomb could be dropped under the guise of man-code. He'd never, so far as he could recall, been brought into that. "Bro-code" suddenly seemed like a flimsy, paper-thin version of what he was being asked to share in now.

Daniel nodded. "I'm fairly sure that if he asked, Hermione would be willing to carry and raise a child with Ron. But, on the level, I'm also relatively sure she's been asked to have at least one of yours. In the future, of course."

"Far in the future," Harry clarified, "like, decades."

"Maybe not that long," the man laughed, reaching over to ruffle Harry's hair, "I'm pretty sure Emma would have kittens if that were the case. Don't make her wait too long. One decade might be good, to spare my old man's heart, but a few years out of school- you seem financially secure enough, anyway- should be good. You've both got good heads on your shoulders, and I'm sure you'll have lots of people to go for advice or to help babysit grandkids."

Harry squirmed in the comfortable seat of the Range Rover, his face scarlet, and his stomach turning with butterflies. He could not remember the last time someone had done that, just ruffled his hair. Sirius, maybe. Remus was too dour and taciturn for such an open display of affection. Bill, maybe? Arthur had always been too full of questions.

But somehow, having this affable, if quiet older man do it, meant something different. Maybe it was the topic of conversation, but somehow, Harry felt once more, strongly, as if Mr. Granger considered him...

Well...

Family.

It was a good feeling, and one he cherished, for the warm swelling in his chest so like that he got from the ladies in his life who loved him, and yet so different, too.

Lilith, in her guise as Lilian Vergot, was the one who greeted the guests alongside Fleur and Harry. The Weasleys arrived first, perhaps because they had been preparing the longest, and both Ron and Ginny were sheepishly put to work by Molly and Hermione herself finishing the arrangements of music that would be piped from Mrs. Grangers shiny new iPod into the sound system Lilith had arranged for somehow over the last term.

Fleur, at least, was well-versed in the social niceties of Wizarding Britain, even if she kept slipping into more French customs as she helped him greet one person after another. Neville and his aging grandmother, who as always during a social function had come wearing her ancient stuffed-vulture hat were among the next to arrive. Katie was happy to show her not around the house, but out to the garden, and seemed delighted to talk to the well-known, infamously hard-nosed witch. Thankfully, Dame Augusta Longbottom seemed quite taken with Katie, too, for they were talking rapidly before they got out of Harry's earshot. Hannah had come with them, her arm linked proudly in Neville's as his other assisted his grandmother up the walk, but she had begged off for both her parents and Susan. Her best friend, she reported sadly, was not dealing well with the necessity of packing away most of her family's things.

Parvati and Padma both smiled nervously as Harry introduced himself to the tall, handsome and proud-looking man who could only be their father, and the stunningly beautiful woman who so resembled them both. Harry, at least, had the wherewithal to tell her, "If your daughters look anything like you, Madame Patil, their husbands are going to be very lucky men."

Parvati had giggled. Padma had groaned. Mr. Patil had glared imperiously down at Harry, then harrumphed, until his wife elbowed him in the side. "Think nothing of this old grump, Mr. Potter," Mrs. Patil told him, "And please, simply call me Lakshmi. You can call him Ratna, or Mr. Patil if he's in a bad mood. His full name's a mouthful."

Harry smiled and nodded, fighting hard to resist the urge to call the twins' father by the name 'a mouthful'. "It's a pleasure to meet you both. Parvati and Padma both speak highly of you, and, if I may say so, are a credit to your families."

"Hm. I suppose, most of the time," the older man grumbled, then nodded, "At any rate, thank you for inviting us, Mr. Potter. It isn't every day my wife and I are invited to the social gatherings of our country's more well-to-do."

Harry cocked his head, "I'm sorry...?"

Fleur only smiled, her grip on his arm tightening slightly as she spoke instead, "I'm sorry, both of you. I'll explain to Harry, I hope he didn't embarrass you. I also hope, as he does no doubt, that particular circumstance changes quickly."

Lakshmi smiled, and behind her both of their daughters beamed more genuinely. Parvati shot him a confident thumbs-up behind her father's back, and as they passed, he caught a brief glimpse of gorgeous looking saree and other more traditional clothes he couldn't name. Lakshmi and Mr. Patil had both worn more tradional wizarding robes, so he couldn't figure out why the twin were wearing robes more similar to what they had worn at the Yule Ball.

Still, once they were out of earshot, being shown around by Lilith herself in this case, Fleur leaned down, kissed him, then said quietly as another party appeared at the bottom of the drive, "Mr. and Mrs. Patil came into Gringott's a short time before I left working there, 'Arry. They are... good people. My family 'as done much business with them in the past, and Ratna is friends with my father. But here? They are looked down on by most of the 'upper crust'. They find it hard to do business, even though Lakshmi was born here, and Ratna immigrated when 'e was young. Just nineteen."

Harry frowned, "So... basically, they haven't been invited much because of bigots?"

Fleur nodded quietly, but was suddenly all smiles for not just Luna and her father, but Tracey Davis and two others who could only be her parents. Their greeting, at least, was quick, with Luna eager to go 'have fun with the whirring buzzkillers', and Xenophilius distracting Mr. and Mrs. Davis admirably, much to their obvious discomfort. It gave Tracey a chance to tell him quietly, her eyes on Fleur appraisingly (and not without some hunger, he was happy to see), "Daphne and her family will be along soon, I got done with a Floo call with Astoria just before we left. I've also heard from Miss Parkinson, who expects to arrive with Miss Bulstrode and Mr. Warrington soon."

"Thank you, Miss Davis," he smiled, but pulled her into a quick hug as she tried to pass, ignoring the sharp intake of breath from her parents. Or maybe just her mother? "Don't let them get to you," he whispered, "if they won't relax, they aren't going to have any fun. Try to remind them that I'm not all that formal, will you?"

Tracey was, at least, smiling faintly as he let her go. "I'll try," she nodded, then turned to Fleur and gave a quick curtsey, "Miss Delacour."

Fleur gave a curtsey back, though of her own nationality's style, "You are Miss Tracey Davis, yes?"

Tracey nodded.

The blonde leaned down to kiss the petite girl on either cheek, and only Harry's sharp hearing picked up what she whispered while she did, "If your choice of male lovers is anything to go by, your girlfriend is a lucky woman... and so are you."

"Don't tease," Harry chided with a chuckle as the shy girl blushed, then hurried past with a sheepish eep.

Harry grinned. This party might have been much more work than he had anticipated, but it hadn't truly begun, and he was already having fun.

Yes, this was going to be a very good summer indeed.