Hermione Granger felt more than a little frustrated as she examined the three outfits that hung from her wardrobe door. She found herself in a very, very unusual situation for her; trying to decide what to wear.
Selecting an appropriate outfit wasn't something she usually gave much thought to. It wasn't that she didn't take personal pride in her appearance, rather it was the fact that over the past year or so her choices had been limited to between classic business attire, sitting at home "comfies" and – more recently thanks to her burgeoning relationship with Harry Potter – clothing appropriate for informal dates.
But tonight was to be their first official, formal date and she was struggling to pick something suitable.
Over the past three weeks since they'd exchanged their first, sweet and delicious kisses, they'd enjoyed several dates together as they tentatively built their romantic relationship. She'd been surprised at first when Harry had suggested they avoid the magical world, instead choosing a number of muggle locations as a suitable backdrop for their initial dates. Strolls in muggle parks; long walks along the beach; visits to the movies, dinners in muggle restaurants. While it had all been highly enjoyable, the traitorous part of her mind was beginning to wonder if Harry was ashamed of her, if he didn't want to be seen with her in public.
As if sensing her mood, Harry had took both her hands in his and had explained.
'I just want to enjoy being with just you for as long as possible. As soon as the press find out about us, it will be really difficult to go anywhere without them trying to follow us. I'm very selfish that way. I want you all to myself and I know it's only a matter of time before this quiet time together comes to an end. I'm really sorry about this, but if you are wanting to be with me, this is the baggage that I bring and the price we need to pay.'
She'd seen the guilt in his eyes and had shaken her head in exasperation before pulling him into a fierce hug.
'It's OK, harry. It's not your fault. And I'm willing to pay that price. Any price,' she had added vehemently, before pulling him in for a long and passionate kiss.
She blushed at the memory. Although it was clear that both of them were very inexperienced in the physical side of relationships, it was also plain that they found each other very desirable. Naïve she might be, but she knew that the physical attraction they had for each other was very real and very, very strong. It was perhaps for that reason that they were taking their time; it seemed that both still had trust issues and as a consequence, both were happy to limit physical contact to kisses, hugs, and handholding.
They were like two young teenagers in love. Sweet, shy, and tentative.
And hormonal. Very, very, hormonal, she thought with a smile. There were times when she just felt like jumping him and this was new territory for her. She was also convinced that Harry felt exactly the same and the thought of where their physical relationship might lead left her feeling both excited and nervous.
Not to mention extremely turned on!
She now measured time in terms of how long it was until the next time she would see him. As a Hogwarts professor, he was limited to how often he could leave the school, but she took great comfort and delight in the fact that he took every opportunity he could to spend time with her. Very quickly, her misgivings about dating only in the non-magical world evaporated as she realised that she didn't care where they spent their time together so long as they did get to spend time together. So, it was with some surprise after a few weeks of dating the non-magical way that Harry had tentatively mentioned "a small, informal gathering" that Kingsley had invited him to. He had asked her if she would attend as his date, and she slowly began to realise the significance of his request.
'Just how informal are we talking, Harry?'
He'd grimaced at the question.
'Not very. He's the Minister for Magic. Informal is a relative term. He's hosting it at his official residence so there will be some dignitaries in attendance. It's a political event so Kingsley has asked me to support him in person. The media will be aware and will be there for their pound of flesh.'
'And you want me to attend?
'There's no one else I'd consider going with. If you don't want to go, I'll go on my own.'
'I'd love to go, Harry, but I'm aware that we'll be outing ourselves to the Magical world. This is an official date. Are you sure you want to do this? To make us official like this?''
'Yes. I'd like nothing more.'
'Then I'd better make sure I look my best,' she'd finally replied after a long pause. Then she'd flung herself at him and kissed him senseless.
That conversation had led to her current predicament. What to wear?
She finally decided to follow her mother's advice who had suggested that one could not go wrong with the traditional little black dress. She selected one of the garments hanging in front of her and held it up to herself in front of the mirror, nodding with decisiveness as she did so.
The only person I want to impress tonight is Harry. The rest can think whatever they like.
Decision made, she headed off to the shower in a much happier mood.
oOoOoOoOoOo
Harry was doing his best to maintain an icy façade as he guided Hermione through the throng of reporters and photographers that crowded outside the front door of the official residence of the Minister of Magic, but he was finding it difficult not to smile every time he glanced at the woman on his arm.
When he'd knocked on the door of S.P.E.W. to pick Hermione up for their first official date, he hadn't quite known what to expect. Over the previous three weeks, he'd enjoyed her company in the non-magical world whenever he could, but their dates had been totally informal, and their attire had reflected this. So, when Hermione had opened the door, he'd quite simply been blown away.
She was wearing a figure-hugging black dress that slid over her form like liquid silk. While it was a relatively modest garment, dropping to just above her knees and was not cut too low, he found that he could not take his eyes off her. Her hair was arranged high with only a few loose tendrils artfully framing her face, and she wore a simple gold locket pendant that drew the eye towards her breasts. He'd been lost for words for a few moments until he realised that she was blushing under his scrutiny.
'You look sensational. Beautiful,' he'd finally managed to stammer.
'Thank you, Harry. You look very dashing yourself.'
She'd put on a smart, black formal cloak that matched the one he was wearing over his own suit, before he'd offered her his arm and Apparated them both to a spot near Kingsley's official residence. He'd not been able to keep his eyes off her since.
The only blot on the evening so far had been the presence of the press pack outside Kingsley's front door, but Hermione had simply taken his hand and had given it a soft squeeze.
'Don't worry about it. I can handle this. We can handle this.'
He'd given her a firm nod before proceeding into the lion's den and soon found that he could not maintain his normal, stern mien as the reporters started throwing the usual questions his way.
'Mr Potter? Mr Potter? Who is the lovely lady on your arm this evening?
'-Mr Potter, is it true that you and Ginny Weasley are an item?'
'Harry, can you confirm the rumours that you will be leaving Hogwarts to take up your seat in the WIzengamot?'
He ignored all the shouted questions, particularly any of a personal nature and smiled at the Ministry security officer who held open the door for them.
'Thanks, Charlie,' he acknowledged the familiar face. The officer smiled, clearly pleased at the recognition.
'You're welcome, Mr Potter. Just go right on in. Someone will take your cloaks for you as you go in.'
Harry nodded his thanks as he led Hermione into a long entrance hall that was primarily made out of marble. While he'd visited this particular town house on many occasions and so was used to the rather grand surroundings, he realised that this was Hermione's first visit and – judging by the wide-eyed expression on her face - she was suitably impressed. He decided to share some of his knowledge about the place, something he did not get to do often with Hermione.
'It's called Henry's House,' he whispered into her ear. He waited until she turned to face him as a Ministry employee approached them to take their cloaks.
'Henry's house?'
'Yes. Named after Henry Austen. He lived here for several years and was visited often by his sister, Jane.'
Her mouth formed into a perfect "O" as she slipped out of her cloak. 'Jane? As in Jane Austen? As in the Jane Austen?'
'The very same. He didn't own the house, he just leased it, but he leased it from a wizard. And his sister used to visit often. The reading room is named after her,' he added as he pointed to a door off to their left.
He grinned at her gobsmacked reaction, knowing from their many, many recent conversations that she was a huge fan of Austen. 'I'm sure Kingsley will be happy to arrange a private tour,' he added.
She beamed at him. 'I'd like that. I'd really like that. It's a beautiful house.'
'It's been the official London residence of the Minister for Magic since 1843. It's our equivalent of 10 Downing Street,' he explained as he guided her towards a large set of double doors. He paused, taking both of her hands as he turned her towards him. He could feel her heart racing.
'Just relax. This is what passes for an informal gathering. You are not on trial her this evening. You're here because I want you to be here and because Kingsley wants you to be here too.'
'The Minister wants me here?'
'Kingsley wants you here. He knows we are dating, and he likes you. He wants to get to know you. I suspect he might even want to offer you a job sometime in the future, but that's not important right now. What's important is that you relax and enjoy the evening. Just be yourself and you'll dazzle them.' He leaned in and gave her a soft kiss on the cheek before turning and leading her into the main room.
He could tell immediately that they were "fashionably late" as the room was already filled with guests. There was around 40-50 people present, most of them faces he knew from similar gatherings in the past. It was a mix of Ministry employees, foreign dignitaries, and a few famous faces from the magical world, such as Quidditch stars, musicians, and authors. A small band played music quietly in the corner. It actually reminded him a little of a "Slug-Club" party and he smiled sadly at the memory.
'Harry! Hermione!' Great to see you both here!' boomed Kingsley as they approached their Minister and friend.
'Good to see you too, Minister,' he replied rather formally. He was aware of the flash of a few cameras as the accredited members of the press got their "scoops."
'None of that nonsense, Harry. It's supposed to be an informal gathering.' Kingsley turned his attention to Hermione. 'It's really nice to see you here too, Hermione. I understand that you and Harry are getting on well?'
Harry found himself blushing at the question but quickly realised there was no malice in the enquiry. Kingsley was just being friendly.
'We are, Minister. I mean, we are, Kingsley,' replied Hermione. 'We're…taking things slowly at the moment, but we are enjoying getting to know each other,' she added with a soft smile.
Kingsley leaned in towards her. 'That pleases me more than you might know, Hermione,' he whispered. 'I know Harry. I mean, I really know him. It does my heart good to see him so happy.'
'Can we please not talk about me as if I'm not here?' asked Harry with an amused grin. 'And please back away from my date, Minister,' he added, slyly. 'We wouldn't want rumours to start now, would we?' he asked mischievously.
Both Kingsley and Hermione laughed. 'OK, point taken,' replied Kingsley. 'Just go and enjoy yourselves for now. I've got more guests to greet, so you two go and mingle and I'll catch-up with you both later. There's some people here tonight that might interest you.' He indicated with a nod towards a group in the corner. 'That's Cuthbert Mockridge over there,' he said to Hermione. 'The head of the Department of Creature Regulation. You might want to introduce yourself to him,' he added with a smile, before turning to greet his next guest.
Harry smiled as Hermione grabbed his hand and pulled him towards Mockridge, clearly intent on a lengthy conversation with the department head.
She certainly knows when she wants something.
oOoOoOoOoOoOo
Hermione was having a wonderful time. Not only was she revelling in the company of her boyfriend, but she was also enjoying some highly stimulating conversation with some of the most influential people in their society.
She'd heard in the past that policy and agreement, negotiation and compromise were not conducted in the Wizengamot chamber itself but was in fact agreed beforehand at events such as the one she was currently attending. It seemed that it wasn't so much the "corridors of power" that dictated policy; rather, it was the cocktail party of influence, she thought with grim amusement. If she wasn't present to witness it for herself, she would scarcely have believed it.
There was now about 60-70 guests at this "informal gathering," and many of them had moved into small groups that now conducted private conversations in side-rooms and antechambers just off the main reception room. That no one took umbrage at this was evidence that it was normal procedure and she found herself bemused by the whole experience.
She also found herself feeling more than a little guilty, for she had quickly established that her boyfriend was one of the most sought-after people in the room, second only to the Minister himself. The great and the good of Magical Britain were attracted to her date like moths round a flame and she found herself in the situation where she had a level of access to influential people that she knew she would never have were it not for the man accompanying her. She was currently wrapping up a conversation with the Head of Research in the Department of Mysteries and she felt both exhilarated and challenged by the topics discussed. Her mixed emotions were not helped by her knowledge of exactly how much Harry hated his fame and she felt awful for enjoying herself so much at the expense of his discomfort. During the many conversations she'd enjoyed so far this evening, Harry had hardly said a word and she was wondering if he regretted asking her to be his date.
She finally took her leave of the Research Director and turned to Harry who had an amused look on his face. He leaned towards her.
'Stop worrying about it,' he whispered in her ear.
'Worrying about what?'
'Worrying about feeling as if you are somehow using me to get access to these people,' he replied with a smile.
She found herself blushing. 'Is it always like this for you?' she managed to ask.
'No; it's usually much duller than this. Tonight has been much more enjoyable. It's been a genuine pleasure listening to you talk to these people. You ask brilliant questions.'
'Really? You're not just saying that to make me feel better?'
'Really. Normally these people talk at me rather than talk to me. But you are really making them think about what they're saying. Kingsley taught me a while ago to listen more than I speak. He said that if I'm talking, then I'm not learning anything new. You need to listen to others to learn new things. A simple truth, but rather a profound one. I have to work at it. You do it without even realising it. That's a great gift, you know.'
She shook her head, smiling at his response. 'You know, you are being rather annoyingly perfect right now. I feel as if I've been neglecting you tonight and then you go and say that.' She leaned in and planted a soft kiss on his lips. 'I'll need to make it up to you later,' she whispered.
His eyes widened and he took hold of her hand, but before he could reply, a voice interrupted their private moment.
'Harry? Hermione? I'm really sorry to interrupt, but Kingsley wants to know if you have a moment? There's someone he wants you to meet.'
Hermione turned to the apologetic face of Susan Bones, and she smiled warmly in greeting. 'No apologies needed, Susan. It's nice to see you again.' She glanced over to where Kingsley was standing, and her heart suddenly leapt into her mouth as she saw who the Minister was talking to. She stiffened in shock before she could control herself.
'What's wrong, Hermione?' asked Harry, responding immediately to her reaction. 'What's the matter? You've gone all tense.' He turned towards Kingsley to see what had upset her. 'Do you know who that is with Kingsley? Has he done something to you?' he asked urgently.
She shook her head. 'Not here, Harry.' She turned to him, and saw is eyes harden. 'Please, not here. I'll tell you later, I promise. Go and speak to Kingsley. I'm going to powder my nose. Come and find me when you're done.'
Harry gripped her hand tightly and the concern radiated from his every pore.
'Please, Harry. Trust me. I'm fine.' She forced a smile. 'Besides, I have Susan to keep me company, right?'
Harry did not look convinced but slowly nodded his agreement. He turned to Susan, his eyes a question, and the redhead nodded her understanding.
'Don't worry, Harry. She'll be fine with me. Go and see what Kingsley wants and then come and find us. We'll be in one of the quieter rooms.'
Hermione watched as Harry gave her one, last, searching glance before nodding his acceptance. He let go of her hand and turned without another word and headed towards the Minister. Hermione closed her eyes and tried to compose herself, acutely feeling the loss of his touch. She found herself struggling before she felt another, softer hand, take grip her own.
'C'mon, Hermione. Let's get you straightened out,' said Susan quietly as she led them both out of the main reception area.
Hermione didn't resist. She allowed herself to be led from the room, hoping that no one present apert from Harry and Susan had noticed her distress.
oOoOoOoOoOoOo
'It's none of my business, Hermione, so you don't have to tell me anything,' said Susan softly as they settled into comfortable armchairs situated in one of the small rooms adjoining the main reception area. The redhead had arranged drinks for them both and had found this quiet spot for them to retreat to. It was a sanctuary of silence amid the hubbub of the main party.
Hermione nodded her gratitude towards Susan, both for not prying and for finding a place for her to calm down.
'But what I will say,' continued Susan, 'is that you tell Harry what the problem is. It will do neither of you any good to keep this to yourself.'
Hermione took a sip of her drink as she considered what to say next. 'You know him well?' she finally asked.
'About as well as anyone outside his closest circle,' replied Susan. 'While we were not exactly friends at school, we did get on fine with each other. I was in his Defence Club in fifth year and got to know him a bit then. I've really got to know him since I got the job with Kingsley. The two of them are really close,' she added.
'Did you ever date him?'
'Not formally. We've been on a few dates together at official functions, but they weren't romantic encounters. It was more for convenience.'
Hermione smiled ruefully at the response. 'Yeah; he's already explained all that to me. It must be crazy, dealing with that all the time. I don't know how he manages it.'
'Neither do I,' replied Susan, 'but he seemed to be dealing with it all fine tonight.' She paused and looked thoughtful for a moment. 'Hermione? I know we don't really know each other, but do you mind if I give you some advice? About Harry, I mean?'
'Of course not, Susan! You've known him much longer than I have. I'll be grateful for any advice you have to offer.'
Susan nodded with relief. 'Be open with him, Hermione. Don't keep any major secrets from him.' She hesitated. 'Kingsley told me that a lot of people withheld crucial information from Harry during the war. Information about him that he really needed to know. He said that Harry defeated Voldemort despite not having this information and that not having it might have cost us everything. As a result, Harry hates it when people keep him in the dark.'
'So, he expects to know everything?' asked Hermione tentatively.
'No. He just wants to know about things that affect him and those he cares about. He clearly cares about you, Hermione and he'll be really worried about you right now. The best advice I can give you is to always communicate with him as it will help to avoid misunderstandings. Harry attracts a lot of rumours and misinformation, so if you have any doubts about anything then just ask him. Don't make assumptions and don't let things fester.'
Hermione considered these words, but something irked her slightly about the advice. 'So, he gets to keep his secrets, but I don't get to keep mine?'
Susan shook her head and a small smile played on her lips. 'Oh, Hermione. It's not like that at all. Harry has real trust issues. He's been betrayed so many times by so many people in his life. But he wants to trust people. He wants someone to share his life with. I know you've just met him, but that person could be you if you really wanted it to be. You clearly make him happy. I've never seen him interact with anyone the way he interacts with you. Trust him and he will most certainly trust you. Just…' Susan paused, seeking the right words.
'Just what?'
'Just please don't break his trust. I've no right to interfere or to ask this of you, but if you were to do that, it would crush him. Just…be open with him.'
Hermione remained silent for a long moment. 'Thank you, Susan,' she finally replied. 'I know it can't have been easy for you to say that to me.' She paused before continuing. 'The truth is, I think I love him. I haven't told him yet because I don't want to scare him off, but I do love him. I wouldn't do anything to hurt him.'
Susan smiled broadly. 'That's great to hear, Hermione, because I think he feels the same way about you. Just be honest with him. When he asks you later what upset you, don't keep it from him.'
'It's just that the-:' began Hermione.
'Stop!' Interrupted Susan. 'You don't have to tell me. It's none of my business. Just tell Harry. Things will be much better if you do, believe me.'
Hermione nodded her understanding. 'Thank you, Susan, for your trust in me. I won't abuse it,' she said softly. Then she looked the redhead directly in the eye, a playful smile on her face. 'So, what else can you tell me about Harry?' she asked mischievously.
For her part, Susan Bones smiled in return. She had a sudden feeling that she and Hermione were going to become firm friends.
'Where would you like me to start?'
oOoOoOoOoOoOo
Harry was experiencing conflicting emotions as he followed Hermione up the stairs to her living quarters in her Diagon Alley flat. When at the party earlier, he'd immediately sensed that something had seriously upset his girlfriend and was more than a little put out that she had not given him any indication as to what was troubling her. He knew that something – or someone – in the room was the cause of her distress, ad he suspected that it was Kingsley's guest who had triggered such a severe reaction, but he was at a loss as to the exact reasons for Hermione acting the way she did. He was not angry or irritated with his date for her behaviour; he was just concerned about her and more than a little frustrated
He'd reluctantly joined Kingsley when it had become apparent that Hermione was not going to accompany him, and he'd not found anything untoward during the following encounter. Kingsley had simply wanted him to meet the French Ambassador to Magical Britain and Harry had found nothing offensive about the man, indeed, he actually found him to be charming and possessing a good sense of humour. While the former characteristic was common among the Diplomatic Corps, the latter was a much rarer commodity. Not that he took such people at face value; he'd learned a long time ago not to make snap judgements for good or for ill.
So, after a relatively brief and inconsequential discussion, Harry had taken his leave of the Minister and had sought out his date.
He had to admit that his confusion and slight irritation had been exacerbated when he'd discovered Hermione and Susan giggling like old friends in one of the antechambers. While it was great to see that Hermione had recovered from her initial discomfort, he had to confess that the sight of her carrying on as if nothing had happened irked him a little. Her behaviour was confusing him, and he was probably more annoyed at himself for being annoyed than anything Hermione had done. In all honesty, he was just worried about her.
When they'd finally noticed his presence, Susan had made her excuses and had left them to it, but not before giving Hermione a warm hug. When he'd raised an eyebrow in question, Hermione had simply asked if he would take her home.
He'd been only too happy to oblige.
So, he now found himself in Hermione's flat, removing his cloak and wondering what to say next as he watched Hermione remove her own outer garment before pouring them both a glass of wine. She handed him a glass in silence before sitting on her sofa. She patted the seat next to her.
'Sit down, Harry. Please.'
He slowly complied with her request and settled into his seat before looking at her questioningly. He suddenly realised that she was very unsure of herself, and he mentally kicked himself for being an insensitive arse.
'Are you OK?' he finally asked. His voice was gentle. 'I don't know what happened to you earlier, but I do know that something really upset you.' He paused and puffed out his cheeks. 'It's none of my business, so you don't have to tell me anything, but I need you to know that I am worried about you and that you can trust me. If you don't want to say anything, that's OK.'
In response, Hermione reached across and took his hand in hers. They say together in silence for a long moment before she finally spoke.
'Do you remember that I told you that someone I trusted betrayed me? That they really hurt me?'
'Yes.'
'I never told you the details. I never said what actually happened.'
'You don't owe me any explanations, Hermione,' he replied.
'I think I do, Harry. I think you deserve to know what triggered me this evening. You, of all people, deserve to know more about me.'
'Why?'
'Because I am learning to trust you more than anyone else in my life, Harry, save for my parents. And I trust you almost as much as I trust them. You have shown me nothing but kindness, patience, and gentleness since we met. You have always been completely honest with me.'
'To be fair, Hermione, there's a lot about me I haven't told you,' he replied.
'I know that Harry, but that's not the point. You'll tell me when you're ready, I have no doubt. You've already let me into your life, and I know that isn't an easy thing for you to do. It's not easy for me either and I think I am ready to tell you why.'
'OK.'
'I grew up very lonely, Harry. I had no friends when I was at school. To be fair, I wasn't a normal kid – I preferred the library to doing anything else and I think all of my peers found me too boring to be friends with. It was tough.'
'I'm sorry to hear that.'
She shrugged and shook her head. 'It's water under the bridge now; don't worry about it. No, that's not the cause of my distress. That was just kids being kids. What really changed for me was when I went to university in Paris.' Her eyes shone for a moment, and he knew her mind was currently back at the Sorbonne and not in her flat with him. 'I met people just like me. People who loved learning and books and just enjoying an intellectual challenge. It was there that I met Gabriel.'
'Gabriel?'
'Yes. My first boyfriend. In fact, until I met you, my only boyfriend.'
'I'm exceedingly jealous,' he replied, trying to bring some levity to the situation.
'Don't be! Don't ever be jealous of him! I hate him!' she exclaimed, tightening her grip on his hand. She took a deep breath, calming herself down and taking a moment before continuing. 'I started dating Gabriel in my final year. He was charming, witty, clever and I thought he loved me. I thought I loved him, to be honest. I certainly loved the idea of him.'
'What happened?'
'We worked together on our thesis' in our final year. Just before they were due to be handed in, we exchanged our papers so we could proof read them for each other.' Her face hardened. 'He submitted my paper as his own. He stole my work and passed it off as his own. He ended up getting a First Class Degree while I only managed a Lower Second.' She turned to face him, and he could see the pain raw on her face.
'He used me. He befriended me and then pretended to love me simply to steal my work. I fell for it. I was besotted with him. I adored the attention he gave me. I almost gave myself completely to him and the only consolation I have in respect of him is that I didn't go that far with him.' She paused, her face hard. 'The pre-meditation in his behaviour still leaves me so, so angry and hurt. It's why I find it really difficult to make friends. I cant bring myself to trust people. Until you that is.'
He made to speak but she shook her head. 'Let me finish, Harry. Please.' She considered her next words. 'I tried to complain to the University authorities, but they wouldn't listen. You see, Gabriel comes from a very influential French family. A very rich family that makes sizable donations to the university and has members on the board. His father is a very important man in French Government circles, and he used all of his influence to have me discredited.' She turned to look at him directly in the eyes.
'That man that Kingsley wanted to introduce you to this evening? His name is Pierre Ducos. He's Gabriel's father. He and his son ruined my life.'
Harry felt a surge of rage at her words that he thought himself incapable of experiencing since he'd destroyed Voldemort. But his rage soon subsided as Hermione collapsed into his side, tears streaming down her face. He pushed his anger down to his deepest core and allowed the love and affection he felt for Hermione wash over them both as he took her gently in his arms and held her as if she was the most precious thing in the world.
Well, that at least is true, he thought to himself. She's the most precious thing in my world.
He felt his inner rage struggle for release. He despised men such as Pierre Ducos and his son. Men who would casually ruin someone as wonderful and as innocent as Hermione for the simple reason that her existence was an inconvenience to them once they had exploited her for their own ends. He'd fought a war against such people, and he continued to do so to this day. While he hated his fame and all it represented, he was not above using it to destroy those who deserved it.
He pressed his lips into the top of Hermione's head before whispering calming words into her hair.
Ducos.
There was going to be a reckoning.
oOoOoOoOoOoOo
a/n Henry's House is a real place and is now an upscale, Regency period style hotel.