It's Only Pretend

IT'S ONLY PRETEND

Meeting and Mingling

Chapter Four

Harry was sitting on the edge of the bed when Hermione finally emerged from the bathroom. He tilted his head and looked questionably at her.

"I thought we were going to the pool," he said in confusion.

Hermione looked as if she were dressed for dinner. She was wearing a pressed pair of shorts with a white sleeveless button up shirt. She was holding a wide brimmed hat in one hand and a pair of sunglasses in the other.

"We are," she said as she walked passed him, looking through her bag for a book to take with her.

"But...where is your bathing suit?" he asked.

"Oh, it's on," she said absentmindedly.

Harry stood up and rubbed a hand down his bare chest. He had the funny thought that Hermione would swim in her clothes; it seemed like a very Hermione thing to do. So, he smiled at her modesty. And there he was standing in only his swimming trunks with a towel draped over his shoulder.

"Should I wear a shirt downstairs?"

"Oh, don't be silly," she replied, smiling as she found the book she was searching for. She stood up and as if noticing Harry for the first time, she raised her eyebrows up.

Harry caught the look in her eyes and grinned. "Quite tempting and irresistible, eh?" He raised his eyebrows up and down rapidly in a teasing manner.

Hermione looked away and laughed. "Oh, quite," she began sarcastically, leaning over and picking up her things, "how ever will I manage to keep my hands off of you?"

"It will be difficult, I know," Harry said seriously.

She turned and looked at him again. She could still imagine Harry as the little scrawny kid he was in first year, and yet, the man before her was neither little nor scrawny. Harry had grown up...and quite nicely, she added silently.

She dropped all of her things into a bag she intended to take down to the pool. "You ready?" she asked, forcing herself to stop staring at Harry.

"Of course," he said, completely oblivious to the way Hermione was watching him.

They walked quietly to the lift and Harry pushed in the button. He glanced at Hermione out of the corner of his eye; she was biting her lip.

"Are you nervous?" he asked.

She looked up at him. "Only a little. I'm sure I'll be fine once I get into stealthy reporter mode."

"Right. You seem to be doing just fine in stealthy married mode."

Hermione laughed lightly as the doors to the lift opened. The lift wasn't empty. A witch with long flowing chestnut hair, wearing the tiniest red bathing suit Hermione had ever seen, was standing in the center. She saw Harry and immediately batted her long false eyelashes at him. Hermione huffed silently as she and Harry stepped inside.

"How are you?" Harry asked in his usual friendly manner. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Fine, thank you," she purred, smiling at Harry with the trained ease of a predator.

"We're on our way to the pool," Harry continued, making idle conversation.

"Oh, it's amazing," she said, reaching out a hand with manicured fingernails, and placing it on Harry's bicep. Hermione looked down at her own bitten down nails before quickly hiding them away.

"That's what I like to hear," Harry replied. And then the witch giggled. Harry looked questionably over at Hermione. Clearly he didn't know if he had said something stupid or funny.

The lift stopped at the second floor and the flirtatious witch exited, careful to pass a wink to Harry. "I hope to see you around."

"Sure thing," Harry answered, "we'll be here for a few weeks." Hermione groaned.

As soon as the lift doors closed, Harry looked down at Hermione. She was frowning deeply.
"What is it?" he asked.

"Nothing," she said shortly.

Harry slipped his arm around her shoulders and tugged her over to him. "I know that's a lie."

"It's nothing Harry."

"Come on, Hermione. You look angry about something."

She rolled her eyes and looked up at him. "Honestly, Harry, you and I are supposed to be married. This is a married couples only resort and she was practically throwing herself at you. It's disgusting." She turned away and stared at the closed doors.

Harry removed his arm and poked Hermione in the ribs playfully. She moved away from him and tried her best not to smile.

"Stop it, Harry."

"It's Jonathan," he whispered, poking her in the ribs again. She smiled involuntarily, "and you wouldn't be jealous, now would you?" he asked, winking at her.

She laughed and swatted away his hand. "Jealous?" she asked, looking at him and smiling. "Hardly."

The lift doors opened and the bright sunlight poured in. "Good. Because she's not my type," he said quietly as he stepped out of the lift.

Harry and Hermione stood outside the lift doors for a moment taking in their environment. It was absolutely breathtaking.

"Wow," Hermione murmured.

Harry grabbed her hand and pulled her away from the doors. "Let's find a couple of chairs near the pool."

She followed without speaking. She wanted to see everything. For once in her life, she was completely speechless as she looked around in awe. As Harry held her hand and pulled her forward, she couldn't help but notice the stares of many of the witches they passed. She could hear his words in her head. You wouldn't be jealous now would you? Of course, she wasn't jealous. Harry was her best friend. She just didn't like people staring at him--that's why her stomach felt weird. It definitely wasn't because she was jealous.

* * * *

Harry dropped his towel on the end of his pool chair while Hermione spread hers out neatly. She frowned at him as he sat down on the end of her neatly arranged chair.

"This place is great," he said, looking out over the pool.

The pool was large and oddly shaped, weaving around rock formations and around corners. Lush, green, tropical plants hung down near the water and jutted out in all directions around the pool, giving lots of needed shade on the balmy afternoon.

The top of the water was charmed, Harry knew, because spouts of water slid across the surface and then jumped up into the air, causing the witches and wizards in the pool to laugh in delight. A deep green waterslide, carefully hidden inside a large group of rocks, dropped its occupants into the water from five feet up. He would definitely have to test it out.

"Yeah, it's beautiful. I really do wish Ron were here," she said, pulling her book out of her bag.

Across the pool was a tiki hut, and Harry knew exactly what he wanted. "Strawberry Daiquiri, Mrs. Parker?"

Hermione looked up at him and smiled, but when she glanced across the pool at the drinking hut, her smile left her face.

"What is it?" he asked, following her gaze.

"I'm think that's Cynthia Morgan," she said quietly.

"Who?"

"Cynthia Morgan. She's the wife of Nathan Morgan. He's the owner of Morgan's Merchandising...one of the companies planning the merger."

"Oh," Harry answered, finally understanding. He reached out and patted Hermione's shoulder. "No worries, my sweet little wife, I'll put in a good word for you." He stood up and started walking away before she could argue.

* * * *

Harry walked around the pool, dodged a few strange looking tropical birds, and found a seat on one of the bar stools underneath the tiki hut's thatched roof. He glanced at the witch beside him, taking in her details quickly.

She was older, probably in her fifties. Her hair was neatly arranged and steel grey. She carried herself in a worldly manner, speaking to the bartender in a kind and gentle voice.

She cut her eyes carefully over in Harry's direction and when he caught her glancing, he looked at her and smiled. She immediately smiled in return.

"Good afternoon," Harry said.

"Good afternoon," she responded, and then her eyes flew open wide. "My word, has anyone ever told you that you look exactly like--"

"--Tom Cruise? Yeah, I get that all the time," he said quickly, winking at her. "And if you don't mind telling my wife that as soon as you see her. She thinks Tom Cruise is the most handsome human alive." Harry smiled again.

She looked slightly taken aback at his response, but Harry's smile was disarming and sincere. "I'm Cynthia Morgan," she said, holding out her hand and taking an instant liking to Harry.

Harry shook her hand. "I'm Jonathan Parker."

"So, your wife likes Tom Cruise, does she?" Mrs. Morgan asked with a slight twinkle in her eye. "Does that mean she follows Muggle entertainment?"

Harry grinned. "Absolutely. She's Muggle-born and smart as a whip. Probably the cleverest witch you'll ever meet."

"I should like to meet her very much. She's clever and she fancies Tom Cruise. Sounds like a smart girl. You seem very fond of her as well. Been married long?"

"Not quite a year," Harry said, pausing to run the facts Hermione had given him through his head quickly.

"Newlyweds. I can still remember what that's like," she said, laughing lightly as the bartender placed a drink in front of her. The liquid was pure white and a tiny umbrella hung on the side. She leaned down and drank through the bright red straw.

"Two strawberry daiquiris, please," Harry said to the bartender before turning his attention back to Mrs. Morgan. "You should definitely meet her. We'll be here for a couple of weeks."

"Oh, how nice. We're staying for a couple of weeks as well. Is she out here with you now?" Mrs. Morgan asked curiously.

"As a matter of fact," Harry said, turning around on his stool and scanning the pool area, "she's over there--" The rest of the words he was going to say died on his tongue. His eyes fell on Hermione, and he forgot what he was going to say--he nearly forgot his name.

Hermione was across the pool from the tiki hut. She'd straightened out her towel and placed her book on Harry's chair. She'd also pulled off her shorts and was in the process of unbuttoning her white shirt, revealing her two piece lavender bikini hiding underneath. She folded the shirt up and placed it in her bag. Pulling out her wide brimmed hat and sunglasses, she sat down on her chair, put on her hat and glasses and glanced around the pool area.

Harry's mind was muddled and his mouth was hanging open. Suddenly his mind kicked into high gear.

Is that what color lavender is? No wonder it's her favorite. What is she doing wearing that? And did anyone know that Hermione had a body like that? Is that legal? Is it acceptable that my best friend is wearing a bathing suit that small around me? How could I have never noticed? She looks--

Mrs. Morgan laughed quietly, covering her mouth with her hand in a graceful manner. "I remember when Nathan used to look at me like that."

"Huh?" he asked, blinking his eyes and looking at Mrs. Morgan again.

She smiled and patted his shoulder. "She's beautiful."

Harry looked back at Hermione and nodded. "Yeah...she is," he answered softly.

"You should have dinner with my husband and me tonight."

Harry, snapping back to the job at hand, grinned widely and knew Hermione would be pleased. "That sounds like a great idea. I know Julianna would love to meet you."

Mrs. Morgan smiled. "Great. We'll meet you at The Magician's Table at, let's say, around eight?"

"Wonderful," Harry replied, taking the two daiquiris from the bartender. "We'll see you tonight."

"I look forward to it," Mrs. Morgan said genuinely.

Harry walked slowly around the pool, trying not to focus on Hermione's bathing suit. The vision seemed to be burned into his mind. He sat down beside her but didn't make eye contact.

"One daiquiri for you," he said, holding it out to her.

"Oh, great. Thanks Jonathan," she said smiling.

He sat down beside her and leaned back on his chair, closing his eyes. "I talked with Mrs. Morgan."

"What? You did? What did she say?" Hermione asked excitedly.

Harry grinned. He knew Hermione would be proud of him. "We're having dinner with her and her husband tonight at eight at The Magician's Table."

"What?!" she exclaimed and then lowered her voice. "Are you serious?"

He looked at her, a lopsided grin on his face and said, "Am I charming or what?"

Hermione didn't answer immediately. Instead, she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. "Oh, Harry, you are so perfect!"

Harry blushed. He wasn't sure if it was because he was embarrassed from the praise or because he could feel Hermione's barely-clothed body pressing against his. She pulled away, not sensing his discomfort and smiled widely. "Thank you so much, Mr. Parker." She leaned back against her chair, still smiling, and sipped her daiquiri.

He cleared his throat before saying, "That's some bathing suit you're wearing."

Hermione turned to him quickly. "Is something wrong with it?" she asked insecurely. "I'm not used to wearing stuff like this."

"No, nothing's wrong with it," he admitted. Unless of course you take into account that I can't bloody focus on anything else and I don't know how I feel about that.

"Are you sure? Is it okay?" she asked, touching his arm innocently.

"It's great, Julianna, I promise," he said, closing his eyes and sighing quietly.

She took a deep breath and leaned back as well. "Thanks again, Jonathan," she said, still getting used to their pretend names. "You really are the best. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Oh, you'd be just fine, I'm sure," he replied quietly, knowing it was the truth. There wasn't anything Hermione couldn't do...she had managed to make him suddenly realize she was a tempting female and not just his best friend for years...and she'd done it completely by accident. He looked over at her; she was opening her book to the last marked page. She glanced up at him and grinned. Warmth filled his chest and began to spread.

"What's that look for?" she asked, wrinkling her nose.

"What look?" he asked, focusing on stirring his daiquiri with the straw.

"You just had a funny look on your face," she said, shrugging and looking back down at her opened book.

"I don't know," he said.

"Okay," she said as she turned the page in her book.

When Harry was sure she wasn't paying him the least bit of attention, he kept stealing glances at her, testing to see if the feelings he had were consistent. He finally shrugged and closed his eyes. He wanted to enjoy the sunshine. He decided that Hermione was a woman in a small bathing suit--what man wouldn't turn his head for a second glance? It didn't mean anything; it was merely hormones.