It's Only Pretend

IT'S ONLY PRETEND

Dinner and a Dress

Chapter Five

Harry draped his wet towel around his neck and followed Hermione back toward the hotel. Her steps were quick and excited, and he knew she was already coming up with a game plan in her head about the evening's dinner.

"Hey," she called to him over her shoulder as she stopped walking. Harry nearly plowed into her back.

"What?"

"We should check and see what the attire is for the restaurant. I don't want to show up dressed inappropriately."

"Okay. We can make a pass through the lobby," Harry said as he fell into step beside Hermione when she continued walking.

They made their way through the lobby, and Harry wished he'd brought down a shirt to wear because the looks he was getting from the other guests were beginning to make him uncomfortable. He tugged the towel around him a bit more.

Hermione rested her arms on the counter at the front desk and smiled at the receptionist.

"Hi. We're eating at The Magician's Table tonight. What is the dress attire?"

The receptionist smiled and nodded at Hermione. "It is very dressy, Senora."

Hermione stepped back and thanked the young woman. She turned and looked at Harry and sighed.

"What is it?" he wondered.

"I don't know if I brought anything terribly fancy. I don't want to be underdressed," she said quietly, biting on her bottom lip and thinking.

Harry glanced around the lobby and pointed to a boutique across the way. "It looks like there are fancy things in there. We could take a look."
Hermione frowned. "I don't want to have to buy anything. I could just transfigure something I suppose."

Harry grabbed her by the arm and pulled her across the lobby. "Come on, my little wife, let's just take a look."

Hermione laughed and went along with Harry without a fight. The boutique definitely had fancy things inside it for sale--fancy things with fancy price tags. She pulled a cocktail dress cut from a deep scarlet material that felt like silk in her hands off the rack and smiled widely.

"That's quite a dress," Harry said as he stepped up beside her.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?"

"Try it on," Harry said, but before she could agree to anything, she pulled out the price tag and gasped.

"Oh my," she whispered, and then quickly hung the dress back on the rack.

"What's wrong with it?" Harry asked in confusion.

"It's 400 galleons," she said in shock.

"So?"

"So? So, that's ridiculous. I'm not paying 400 galleons for one dress. That would be so foolish," she said crossing her arms and shaking her head.

"Just try it on Hermione, for me?" he asked, smiling at her.

"Why?"

"Please?"

She sighed and took the dress back off the rack. "I don't know why I'm going to even try it on, because I'm definitely not going to buy it." But she walked off and found an empty dressing room.

Harry waited patiently for Hermione to emerge from the changing rooms, and when she did, his eyes nearly popped out of his head. Her hair was still slightly damp from the pool and pulled back from her face, but Harry could instantly imagine it down and curly, framing her face. The dress flattered her body nicely, with a fitted waistline and a hem that stopped mid-thigh.

She stood barefoot before him with her feet slightly turned in so her toes were touching. Harry couldn't help but grin at her nervous habit.

"Well?" she asked.

"Wow," was all he could say initially.

"I don't know why I even tried it on. I can't afford it, but it is beautiful, isn't it?"

"I'll say," he muttered in response.

"Okay, so are you happy? You've seen it. Now I'll go change and we'll be on our way." She turned and disappeared behind a curtain, and Harry continued to stare, still seeing the vision of her in his mind's eye.

When Hermione came back out into the store, she looked a bit disappointed, but he knew she'd never buy the dress--so he decided he would.

"You ready?" she asked.

"Not quite," he replied as he reached out for the dress and pulled it off the rack. "Okay, now I am." He began walking for the register.

Hermione reached out and grabbed his arm. "What are you doing?" she whispered heatedly, trying to keep her voice down so the other customers didn't hear them.

"I'm buying a dress," he answered, grinning at her.

"Oh, no you aren't." She placed her hands on her hips and began tapping her toe on the carpet.

Harry laughed; he couldn't help it. "Oh, yes, I am, Mrs. Parker."

Hermione leaned her face dangerously close to his and glared. "I hope you don't think I'm going to wear it just because you want to spend a foolish amount of money on it. I think it's ridiculous to waste that much money on a dress."

Harry raised his eyebrows. Clearly, Hermione was irritated with him, but he knew he could soften her up later and she'd wear the dress. "Oh, I think you're confused. I'm not buying the dress for you. Red has always been a good color on me." He winked at her and walked up to the counter, leaving Hermione standing behind him.

"All ready?" the young woman behind the counter asked.

"Yes. I think so."

"Might I point out a beautiful necklace and earrings that would match this dress splendidly?"

"Sure," Harry said as he followed her finger when she pointed. "Those are nice," he said, looking over his shoulder at Hermione who was still glaring at him. He knew she wasn't really mad. She never did like anyone to spend money on her. "I'll take those as well."

"For your wife?" the woman asked, smiling sweetly at Harry.

"Of course," he answered. "She'll be so excited." And as he said the words, he looked over at Hermione and laughed lightly. She looked anything but excited.

* * * *

Harry was standing in the bedroom wrapped in a towel and leaning over looking at himself in the mirror when Hermione emerged from the bathroom. She still wore a sour expression on her face.

"I don't know why you had to buy that dress," she started.

Harry rolled his eyes as he rubbed his forehead and continued to look at his reflection. "Here we go again," he muttered.

"It was too expensive Harry. I don't know why you did it. It was just so completely foolish of you--"

Harry looked away from the mirror at Hermione. "--But you're going to look beautiful tonight," he interrupted.

"W-what?" she stuttered.

"You heard me. You'll be the best looking witch in the entire resort." He turned back to the mirror and resumed rubbing his fingers across his forehead.

"Really?" she asked, feeling a blush creep into her cheeks. "That's really sweet, Harry," she murmured, and then upon noticing Harry was wearing only his towel, she looked down at the floor.

"I'm your husband. I'm supposed to be sweet."

"Well, thank you," she said, braving another look up at him. She crinkled her nose as she watched him. "What are you doing?"

"It's weird," he said, looking over his shoulder at her. "I've had that scar all my life, and now that it's gone, it's just weird."

"We had to conceal it. People would have recognized you immediately."

"I know," he replied as he turned around and leaned against the dresser.

"Besides, I thought you hated it," she added.

"I did, but it was also a part of me...like an arm...so it just seems strange that it's gone now." He walked over toward Hermione and she couldn't help but shy away the closer he got. After all, Harry was only wearing a towel and she found it made her palms sweaty. "Listen, Hermione," he began, placing his hands on her arms, "don't be mad at me about the dress. It looked really nice on you and I know you wanted it. It can be your Christmas present from me--"

"--for the next twenty years--"

"--okay, for the next twenty years, you'll get nothing from me. But if that's the case then you have to wear that dress every Christmas."

She laughed and relaxed slightly. "You should put some clothes on," she said playfully.

"Why? You don't find my masculine physique tempting?" he asked as he winked down at her and flexed his arms.

"Yes. Which is why you should put something on," she teased.

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Is that so?"

Before he could say anything else, she put her hands on his chest and pushed him away as she laughed. "Get dressed, Harry."

He poked out his bottom lip in a fake pout. "It's Jonathan. My own wife can't even remember my name."

Hermione threw her arms into the air in a sign of frustration. "I give up. I can't win with you." She smiled at him as she picked up the bag that held her dress and walked into the bathroom. "I'll get dressed in here so you can have the bedroom to dress in."

"Okay. I'll see you in a few hours," he said and she rolled her eyes in response.

* * * *

When Hermione was dressed and ready, she opened the bathroom door. Harry was straightening his tie in the mirror, and she stood for a few silent moments and watched him. She couldn't remember the last time she'd seen him so dressed up.

When he turned to look at her she was smiling, and he said nothing. A long second passed, and when Harry still didn't speak, she shifted uncomfortably in her heels.

"What?"

"It's nothing," he mumbled before looking down at his coat and brushing his hands down the front.

"You look...really good," Hermione said, wondering why the words sounded nervous coming from her lips. Harry was her best friend, and surely it wasn't a big deal to tell him he looked presentable.

Harry looked up at her and grinned. He couldn't believe that she could tell him he looked good after seeing the way she looked. He thought she looked amazing and made everything and everyone else pale in comparison.

"Well, I appreciate the compliment Mrs. Parker, and might I add that I'll be the focus of everyone's envy tonight," he said playfully, but he was being honest.

"What do you mean?" she asked, reaching up and absentmindedly playing with her earring.

He crossed over to her and held out his hand. She grabbed his outstretched hand, and he twirled her around playfully as she laughed lightly. "What I mean is that with you on my arm, the entire resort is going to be insanely jealous. They may even resort to violence. I hope you're ready."

She laughed loudly. "You're being ridiculous."

"Have you seen yourself?" he asked, turning her around with his arms and making her face the mirror.

"Harry," she said, blushing and looking at him over her shoulder, "it's just me."

"Well, just you, is a pretty damn good thing to be."

She thought he was teasing, but if she'd really looked into his eyes, she would have seen the truth. And the truth was that Harry had never seen her more beautiful.

"Come on. We don't want to be late," she said, pulling away from him and picking her purse up from the nightstand.

Harry stood near the door and held out his arm for her. She slipped hers through it as they walked out into the hallway.

"You ready for this?" he asked.

"Absolutely," she said as she looked up at him and smiled widely.

* * * *

Down a few flights of stairs in room 263 a man with slicked back dark hair was tapping his fingers on the desk in the corner.

"I don't know why you're so upset with Brewer checking in with you," a male voice said from the bathroom.

"Because, Gavin, he called when I was having a meeting with Morgan. We were talking business and then I have to explain why some lowlife's head in hanging in my fireplace," the other man answered angrily.

"That old man is senile, Victor--"

"--senile? Well, perhaps you're right," Victor responded, trying to keep his anger in check. "I just don't want anything to interfere with our business here."

"It won't. That old man probably didn't even think anything about Brewer. Didn't you tell him Brewer was your delinquent cousin?"

"Yeah."

"And he believed you, didn't he?" Gavin asked.

"Yeah. He seemed to."

"Then stop worrying so much. Everything will be fine," Gavin said, walking out of the bathroom in a suit and tie.

Victor heaved a deep breath and leaned back in the chair. He closed his eyes and nodded his head at his brother. He knew he was probably worrying over nothing, but there was a feeling in the pit of his stomach that was growing and eating at him. He wasn't so sure how senile and unaware Nathan Morgan really was. It was just possible the old man was playing them all for fools.