It's Only Pretend

IT'S ONLY PRETEND

Kiss Me for Luck

Chapter Seven

The next morning as Hermione began waking up, she felt warm and comfortable. She smiled and snuggled her pillow closer--only it wasn't her pillow, and it didn't take her but a moment to realize the difference between Harry and her pillow.

Her eyes flew open, and she sucked in her breath. Her arm was thrown across Harry's chest and one of her legs was bent over his thighs. He was obviously still asleep, so she rationalized that she could ease off of him gently, and he'd never know. She would save them both an awkward situation.

She began moving her leg very, very slowly. When she lifted her arm off of his chest, she glanced up at his face. Harry's eyes were open, and he was looking at her. Her mouth fell open, but she quickly closed it.

"You're awake?" she asked as heat crept into her cheeks.

"Yeah," he answered, smiling at her in a way that made her heart beat hard against her ribs.

"I...I..." she stuttered, "...I'm a hard sleeper..."

"Yeah, I know. You also snore," Harry said, releasing a light chuckle.

Hermione momentarily forgot about her embarrassing position with Harry. "I do?" she asked, blushing more.

He laughed loudly. "No. I was only joking," he said playfully.

Hermione sat up and shoved his arm. "I'm going to take a shower, and then get to work studying that file before tonight," she said as she crawled out of bed.

"Okay. I might round up some breakfast and bring it back here to eat. Anything specific you'd like?" he asked, sitting up and dropping his legs off the other side of the bed.

"Hmmm. Fruit, I think. Whatever you can find," she answered as she walked toward the bathroom. "Thanks Harry."

"Sure thing," he said as she closed the door.

Once inside the bathroom, Hermione leaned against the closed door. Her heart was still racing. She'd been snuggling Harry! And he'd been awake? What did that mean? Why hadn't he moved away? Or moved her over? Did he want her to snuggle him?

She released a pent up breath, and laughed at herself. Of course he had not moved her because he hadn't wanted to wake her. He was being kind, and he had allowed her to sleep. She nodded to herself and leaned over to turn on the water as she released the thoughts from her mind.

* * * *

After her shower, Hermione opened the door and found the room still empty. Harry had not yet returned. She dressed and piled her wet hair on top of her head.

She grabbed the large file and dropped it onto the desktop before sitting down and beginning to sort through the papers. As she was reading a write up on Damien Seville, she remembered her purse from the night before. She picked it up off the floor and opened it up, smiling down at its contents. She pulled everything out of her purse and placed it on the desk near the papers.

She turned her head toward the door when it opened. Harry walked in carrying a tray of food.

"Hey," she said before looking back down at her work.

Harry walked over and placed the tray of food down on the edge of the bed. "They had lots of fresh fruit, but I brought you mostly oranges--"

"--I love oranges," she said, pausing to look away from her work and over at Harry.

"I know," he smiled.

"You do?"

"Occasionally I pay attention," he teased.

She smiled at him in return. "Thanks Harry."

"No problem," he said as he placed a plate of orange slices on the desktop near her. He looked over her shoulder at the stack of papers, but something else caught his eye.

"What are these?" he asked as he reached over and picked up a group of photographs.

"Oh," Hermione said, swallowing down her food before speaking, "I took those last night at the restaurant."

"How?" Harry asked, sounding surprised.

"With my purse. I worked a few charms and spells on it and placed a camera inside and during dinner, I took pictures."

"Wow, Hermione, you're sneaky," he said, smiling at her and flipping through the photographs. There were different shots of Nathan and Cynthia Morgan, and a couple of Victoria. When he reached the last picture he paused.

"I wanted to take pictures of them in natural settings...to try and see how they act when they think no one is paying close attention, and last night I feel like they were really relaxed. Don't you?" she asked when she looked up at Harry, but he wasn't paying attention. "What is it?"

He looked down at her and smiled. "You wanted to take pictures of the prey we're stalking for research reasons?"

Hermione laughed. "I suppose. That's not exactly how I'd word it, but okay."

"Then, what did you need this picture for?" he asked, dropping the last photograph down on the desktop in front of her. He was grinning at her.

She lifted the picture in her hands and tried not to smile. She'd taken a picture of the two of them, sitting at dinner. She was holding her glass of wine and laughing, and Harry was smiling at her. She tried not to blush as she moved her eyes up to Harry's.

"We were dressed up. I thought I might use it later in a scrapbook...something we could laugh at later," she said, feeling a weird tingling in her stomach.

Harry continued to smile as he picked the picture back up in his hands. "I don't think that's going to happen," he said.

"What? Why not?" she asked confused.

"Because I think I'll keep this one for myself. You can take another one some other time."

"Why would you want that picture?" she asked, trying not to laugh at Harry's playful expression.

"I look rather handsome if I can speak candidly. I might need it for my dating portfolio later," he teased.

Hermione rolled her eyes and looked away. "Something's wrong with you. I hope you know that," she said playfully as she picked up another slice of orange.

Harry reached out and placed his hand on her shoulder, and she felt the heat from his hand spreading down her body. She tried to swallow normally.

"Seriously though," Harry said, "it's a great picture, and I'd like to keep it if you don't mind."

The playful ring had left Harry's voice and it was replaced with a serious tone--and it made her heartbeat accelerate. She tried to laugh and shrug off his hand.

"Sure. I don't mind," she said, trying to make her voice sound as normal as possible.

When Harry walked over to the bed and sat down, she released a quiet breath. Feeling ridiculous for her strange feelings, she tried to concentrate on the work in front of her. After a long while of silence, Harry spoke up again.

"Hermione?"

"Yeah?" she asked, turning in her chair and looking at him.

"I've been thinking. I know you explained this whole merger monopoly thing to me, but there's something that seems odd," he began.

"What's that?"

"I really like the Morgans," he said.

Hermione sighed heavily. "That's the same thing I've been thinking. I suppose I assumed that I wouldn't like them. I mean, the Sevilles have always been so shady, and then if the Morgans were planning on working with them, I thought they'd be the same. But they aren't."

"No they aren't."

"They are so nice and so normal. I don't know what to think. And here's another thing, last night Mrs. Morgan didn't seem to care for Victoria much. It makes it even stranger that they are working together."

"Well, maybe Victor isn't that way. You know how women can be. Perhaps Victoria is just hard to like no matter what."

"Maybe you're right. It's just not sitting well with me," she said, biting her bottom lip.

"Well, tonight we're going to meet the whole clan."

"That's true. We'll hopefully be able to figure out some of these ideas and questions," she said as she turned back around.

"Are you nervous?" he asked.

"About meeting them?" She turned to look at him again.

"About the card game," Harry said, smiling at her and she was amazed at how seeing him smile seemed to part the sea of tension inside of her.

She smiled involuntarily back at him. "Are you?"

"Well... Ron was always the better card player and chess player."

Hermione laughed. "I can't believe you. You're worried about a silly card game."

"You don't even know what the stakes are," Harry said.

"What do you mean?"

"You don't even know what we're playing for."

"Like money?"

"Like anything. We are playing with the Sevilles, so we could be playing for our souls," he said, dropping his voice to a low rumble.

She tossed a balled up piece of paper at him. "Oh, stop it," she laughed. "I'm sure we'll have a great time."

"When can we go to the pool?" he asked and Hermione laughed again. "What?"

"You're just like a little boy," she said playfully.

Harry stood up and flexed his muscles in an overly-dramatic way. "Well, look at this. How's this body for a little boy? Nice huh?" he asked.

Hermione burst out laughing. "You've lost your mind. Why don't you go down to the pool and I'll meet you later," she laughed.

"Fine," he said as he walked over to his suitcase and pulled out his swimming trunks. "I'll go down by myself," he added, and Hermione rolled her eyes at the pouty tone his voice held.

"I'll be down in a little while," she said, looking up at him and he smiled again.

"I'm only teasing you, Hermione. Work as long as you like. We're here so you can get your story. Let me know if I can help you do anything," he said and then he walked into the bathroom to change.

When Harry came back out, Hermione tried not stare at him. She'd called him a little boy, but Harry definitely wasn't a little boy. Not anymore. She scolded herself for looking at Harry in a way that didn't seem innocent and friendly at all.

She pulled her focus away from his body and glanced up at his face. He was watching her, and she immediately felt embarrassed, but Harry smiled at her sweetly and picked up his towel.

"I'll see you later," he said and turned to leave the room.

When he was gone, she dropped her head into her arms. "What is wrong with me?" she whispered to no one in particular.

* * * *

Hermione spent the greater part of the day looking over the information in the folder, trying not to jump to conclusions about the Morgans or the Sevilles, and trying not to let her mind wander to thoughts of Harry.

She leaned her head onto her palm and her eyes glazed over with fatigue and memories. Soon she was thinking of times she'd spent with Harry--laughing with him, saving the world with him, studying with him, cheering him on in past Quidditch matches, scolding him for his lack of attention to his studies, joking with him and Ron, crying on his shoulder when they were certain the world was falling apart, and all the times they spent just being.

When the door to their room opened, she snapped her head up and saw Harry. She wondered if the truth was plastered to her forehead because he was looking at her strangely.

"What were you doing?" he asked playfully, throwing his wet towel on the bed.

"N-nothing," she stammered.

"You look like you've been doing something you shouldn't have," he laughed and picked up his wet towel because he knew Hermione would say something about it momentarily.

"What do you mean?" she asked, looking away from his steady gaze.

"You look guilty, my little wife," he said as he walked over to her.

"Guilty?" she laughed. It was forced but she thought it sounded genuine to her ears. "Okay, okay. I was dozing while on the job," she lied because she couldn't tell him the truth. Yeah, Harry, you caught me. I was daydreaming about you. What do you think of that?

"Sleeping on the job. Well no wonder you look so guilty. It's perfectly shameful for Hermione Granger to fall asleep while studying. What is the world coming to?" he said.

She smiled up at him. "Well, nobody's perfect," she replied.

"I think the fact that you can fall asleep while studying makes you even better than before," he said, walking over to the bed and sitting down.

"Why is that?" she asked, frowning slightly.

"Because..." he paused, and then he shrugged, "...practically everything you do is perfect and it's hard for anyone to measure up to you...so I suppose the fact that you can fall asleep while studying, a habit I've gotten quite good at, means you're more like the rest of us."

Hermione's frown deepened. "I'm not perfect, Harry."

He shrugged. "Well, you can believe what you must to get by." He stood up and grinned down at her. And to her surprise he leaned down and kissed her forehead. "You're awful damn close. But, I'm going to clean up. We'll have to be at the card game in a little while."

And Harry walked away and disappeared into the bathroom. Hermione reached up and touched her fingertips to the spot where he had kissed her forehead. Then, she shook her head. What has gotten in to me? she wondered in frustration.

* * * *

Hermione lifted her purse from the end table and glanced at her reflection in the mirror. She frowned.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked.

"I feel completely foolish asking you this, but do I look okay?" she wondered.

Harry grinned at her. "You've become so girly, Hermione," he teased and she glared at him. "Hey, don't look at me like that. You are a girl...I distinctly remember you telling Ron in fourth year. But, yes, you look fine. We're only going to play cards."

"I know. You're right. We're going to play a silly game and nothing terrible is going to happen. We'll meet the Sevilles and try to find out what we can. And I'll get my story," she said, pushing her shoulders back in confidence.

Harry winked at her. "That's more like it. Let's get going."

They walked out of their bedroom and to the lift. Hermione pushed the button for the seventh floor. When they reached their desired floor, it was easy to find the Sorcerer's Lounge because of the well-marked signs.

The Sorcerer's Lounge was a classy but cozy place, and it appeared to be empty of life except for a bartender and a table near the back that erupted into laughter as Hermione and Harry entered.

"Good evening," they heard a voice greet them from behind. They turned around to see the Morgans.

"Hello," Harry said.

"Good to see you again," Hermione replied sweetly.

"What do you think of the Lounge?" Nathan Morgan asked.

"It's nice, a bit dark, but friendly," Hermione answered.

"And empty," Harry added.

"Oh, yes, Nathan insists we rent the Lounge on card night so we can have the place to ourselves. He's selfish that way," Cynthia said playfully. "I see the Sevilles are already here."

"What will you have to drink, sweetheart?" Nathan asked his wife.

"Pina colada, please," she answered.

"And for you two?" he asked, Hermione and Harry.

"Oh, I don't need anything," Hermione said quickly.

"Nonsense," Cynthia said, taking Hermione by the arm, "everyone drinks on card night. It adds to the fun."

"Well..." Hermione hesitated. She needed to work, not become sloshed while playing cards.

"Surely, one drink won't be too bad," Harry said. "I'll get you something."

"Oh, okay. Nothing too strong though, please," she said, pleading with Harry in a look.

He leaned over and kissed her cheek, and she tried not to widen her eyes. "I'll take care of you, don't you worry," he said quietly.

"We'll bring the drinks over to you," Nathan said as he walked toward the bartender.

"Come on, Julianna, we'll head on back to our usual table," Cynthia said, guiding Hermione with her arm.

"Cynthia?"

"Yes?"

"Before we get to the back, could you briefly tell me about the Sevilles...their names and such?" Hermione asked, knowing it was early but nonetheless probing for information.

"Of course. Let's see, there's the father Damien Seville and his wife Beatrice. Then the oldest son's name is Victor, who is married to Victoria. You met her last night--"

"--oh yes that's right--"

"--and the youngest son's name is Gavin. He's married to...oh what's her name...I always forget...it's something silly..." Cynthia said, while she paused and creased her brow in thought, "...oh yes, her name is Plumeria."

"Well, that's definitely a unique name," Hermione admitted.

"Yes. A silly little name for a silly little girl."

"Is she young?" Hermione questioned.

"Oh, not really. I suppose I shouldn't say such things. The Sevilles aren't terrible people, just very different from Nathan and me."

"Then how did you become friends?" Hermione wondered.

Cynthia eyed her carefully and Hermione wondered if she'd overstepped her boundaries. Then, Cynthia leaned in closer as if to whisper.

"They're in a similar line of business as Nathan, so I suppose you could say we have things in common and we're talking over some things," Cynthia admitted, then added, "but don't say anything to Nathan. I feel like I can trust you with that little bit of information."

Hermione's stomach did a weird, uncomfortable flip. She wondered if it was caused by her guilt. She swallowed and braved another question. "Are you thinking of working together?" she asked.

Cynthia smiled. "You're clever. Your husband was right. I won't say any more."

But Hermione knew that was Cynthia's way of saying yes. Hermione smiled back at her, and she thought she was one step closer to getting the deep heart of the story she would need.

As they approached the large round table in the back, Hermione got her first up close glance at the Sevilles, and she suddenly pictured the image of an innocent person being fed to a school of hungry sharks.

Damien Seville wasn't hard to pick out of the group. He was a tall man with a paunch belly, graying black hair, and dark, dark, shiny eyes. One look at his face and Hermione immediately remembered a trip she and her parents had taken to the Caribbean one summer.

She'd begged her father to take her snorkeling, much to her mother's anxiety. She and her father had been swimming along, pointing out the various tropical fish when out of the shadows a long, dark silver fish swam in their direction. Hermione had grabbed her father's arm in fear.

The fish watched them with its beady black eyes and sardonic grin, revealing sharp uneven teeth until swimming back off into the darkness. When they'd swam back to the boat, her father told her what the fish was called. Barracuda. She'd hoped to never have another encounter with a barracuda again.

And yet, looking at Damien Seville's face, she knew she was more than likely having a second encounter. His shiny eyes and unnerving smile made her stomach roll.

Beatrice Seville on the other hand looked like one strong gust of wind would blow her off the side of the globe. She looked undeniably frail, but Hermione wasn't fooled. She was quite sure that beneath Beatrice's delicate exterior was a barracuda dressed in a designer outfit. Beatrice's face was pointy and sharp. Her lips were thin but painted a size larger with a deep shade of pink lipstick, and her eyes were dark and keenly observant.

Hermione continued to quickly scan the other faces seated at the round table. Victor Seville's black hair was slicked back and reminded Hermione of Draco Malfoy's overly flat hair. She cringed. He looked like his father, still handsome in his youth but frighteningly aware of his appeal. His wife, Victoria, looked like the picture of perfection. Every part of her, from her chestnut hair to her painted fingernails, was flawless and Hermione felt plain and homely in comparison.

Gavin Seville was obviously the youngest son. His round face was still youthful and didn't have the same chiseled features of his father's and brother's. His eyes were dark brown and definitely his mother's. The right side of his mouth curved up into a perpetual smirk. His left arm was draped possessively around his wife's shoulders.

Plumeria was dainty like Gavin's mother, but Hermione felt sure she would blow away if a gust of wind blew unexpectedly through the Lounge. Her blonde hair was pale as was her skin. Her blue eyes were large and held the innocent confusion of a lost child. She smiled easily, and Hermione was surprised at how she managed to fit in with the Sevilles.

"Cynthia," Victor said, standing up and holding out his hand, "so good to see you again. And who is this lovely lady with you?"

Charming, Hermione thought. She had to give him that. He was slick and charismatic.

Cynthia held out her hand and smiled at Victor while he kissed the top of her hand.

"This is Julianna Parker. She and her husband own a bookshop just outside of London," Cynthia informed them.

"Oh, how quaint," Mrs. Seville said, smiling at Hermione.

"Let me introduce you to my family," Victor said, walking around the table and resting his hand on Hermione's lower back. He maneuvered her around easily as he pointed out his family members. Charm oozed out of everyone's pores--so much so, it made Hermione uncomfortable...like being fattened for a dinner where she was the main course.

Hermione was thankful when Harry and Nathan made their way to the card table. Hermione was seated between Cynthia and Harry. On Harry's right was originally Victor until Victoria claimed she wanted to talk with Hermione. How she was going to do that by sitting next to Harry was beyond her--Hermione wasn't stupid; she knew why Victoria wanted to sit next to Harry.

"I ordered a daiquiri for you," Harry said quietly as he slid his chair closer to hers and away from Victoria.

"Thanks," Hermione said, smiling weakly up at him.

"You okay?" he whispered in her ear.

She nodded and when he winked at her, she smiled.

"You ready for a mean game of cards?" he whispered.

"Yeah, you?"

"Just remember, don't bet your soul. Repeat it over and over again if you have to," he said playfully.

She giggled as Nathan cleared his throat.

"Okay. I'll explain the rules of the game seeing as how we've got two new players. Everyone know each other?" Nathan asked, looking around at the nodding heads. "Good, good. It's a bit like Muggle poker," he said as he turned his eyes toward Harry and Hermione. He then proceeded to explain the game to them. After a few minutes of explaining and questions, Harry and Hermione felt they were aware enough of the rules to begin.

Hermione was certain she'd never played such a game before. According to Nathan, the winning cards would come alive, sprout arms and legs and rush around the table ripping the losing cards to shreds. Everything pieced back to normal, of course, when the round was over. Nathan also warned them that the face cards had minds of their own at times. She wondered what that meant and figured she'd find out soon enough.

Nathan passed the cards to Damien and grinned. "You can deal first," Nathan said, "oh, and I'd almost forgotten, loser buys the next round of drinks."

Damien skillfully shuffled the deck and tossed the cards face down around the round table until everyone had five cards. Before anyone could pick up their cards, Victoria spoke.

"Kiss for luck," she said and murmurs of agreement passed around the table. Harry and Hermione, however, looked at each other in confusion.

Cynthia leaned over and whispered, "We always give a quick kiss for good luck before each round of cards--"

"--you do?" Hermione asked, trying not to show the shock on her face that she was feeling. Her stomach tightened.

"Oh yes, just a quick one. It's tradition."

Hermione glanced quickly at Harry. His eyebrows were raised in surprise. She leaned over and kissed his cheek. She could feel the flush enter her face just as Cynthia leaned over again.

"No, no," she laughed lightly, "a kiss on the lips. You silly newlyweds. Don't be shy."

Hermione looked back at Harry. His grin was lopsided and he winked at her. This time he leaned over and kissed her lips. She closed her eyes unconsciously and leaned into him. But it was over before she knew it and when they pulled away from each other, Harry was looking at her strangely. She laughed nervously and focused her attention on the cards in front of her.

An hour later, after eight rounds of cards, six daiquiris, and eight kisses for luck, Hermione leaned her head back and laughed. She couldn't help herself. She'd just won the fifth hand of cards and Harry was pouting beside her. Not to mention Gavin was furious.

"Are you cheating?" Gavin yelled, startling the entire table into silence.

"Now, son, lower your voice," his father said in a voice that was quiet but stern. The withering glare he shot at his youngest son didn't go unnoticed.

"How can a woman win five rounds of cards unless she's cheating?" Gavin whined to his father.

"Well, that is definitely uncalled for," Cynthia piped in.

"Now dear," Nathan said, placing his hand on top of hers.

"You are right, Cynthia," Damien said coolly, "Gavin, I think it would be best for you to turn in for the night."

"But--"

"--Goodnight," his father interjected and Gavin's mouth closed immediately.

Gavin slid his chair back and glared down at Plumeria, who stood immediately beside her husband. "Goodnight everyone. It's been a pleasure. I apologize for my behavior. I must be more exhausted than I previously imagined." He nodded and walked away.

To Hermione, the apology sounded forced and insincere but she breathed a sigh of relief when he was gone.

"I'm sorry for that," Damien said, looking directly at Hermione.

Her hand faltered on her glass as she lifted it from the table. "Oh...oh that's okay. We can all call it a night if you wish."

"Nonsense," Victor said, speaking up after remaining silent. "The fun is just beginning. You haven't by chance been reading Harry Potter's secret guidebook to cards, have you?" he asked teasingly.

Hermione choked on her daiquiri. Harry paled.

When she regained her composure she glanced warily at Victor. "What?" she asked.

He laughed. "I've heard a rumor that Harry Potter wrote a book on the secrets of card playing--"
"--I've heard that, too," Victoria added.

"Of course you have. I told you that rumor," Victor said, slightly annoyed.

"Do you think that's true?" Nathan asked. "I would like to read it if it's true."

"Oh, that has to be nonsense, surely," Cynthia said, drinking from her glass. "How could he possibly have time to write a book on card playing?"

Victor laughed. "You're probably right. But it would be interesting if he did. Now, where were we?"

"Round nine?" Damien said, sliding the unshuffled deck toward Nathan.

Hermione gripped Harry's leg with her hand under the table. Her stomach had fallen into her shoes and now, seeing as how Victor's comment was purely coincidental, she wanted to laugh away the nervous feeling in her stomach.

Harry slipped his hand under the table and folded his hand over hers. They looked at each other and smiled. As Nathan dealt the cards, Harry's expression turned serious as they held their eye contact.

"Kiss me for luck," he whispered, his voice low and a little husky.

"Okay," she replied, rocking forward in her chair toward him. She felt Harry's fingers on her cheek as her lips touched his. A tingle roared up her spine and settled warmly in the center of her chest then spread into her stomach.

Hermione forced herself to pull away; the close contact with Harry was beginning to unnerve her. She looked down at her cards and squealed, slapping them down on the table.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked immediately while everyone at the table turned their eyes to her. She blushed a deep shade of scarlet.

A slow smile spread across Nathan's face. "Let me guess. You have the Queen of Hearts and the King of Spades."

"How did you know?" she asked in a hushed voice.

He chuckled jovially. "As I mentioned earlier, the face cards have minds of their own. And it seems those two have a bit of an affair going on," he said lightly. Everyone at the table laughed.

Hermione cast a glance at Harry and she could see the curiosity in his eyes. He lifted her cards from the table and his eyes widened. The Queen of Hearts and the King of Spades were definitely having an affair with each other. Hermione looked away embarrassed as Harry made a noise in his throat. He placed the cards back down.

"That's quite an imagination they have there," he said, looking at Hermione's pink cheeks.

"Want to switch hands?" she asked, and the entire table began to laugh again.

Another hour passed and Hermione began to yawn. She wasn't sure if she was merely tired or if the daiquiris were getting to her. Harry slipped his arm around her and tugged her closer.

"You tired, love?" he asked.

"A little," she replied.

"I think Julianna and I are going to call it a night," Harry said, sliding back in his chair and pulling Hermione to her feet.

"You should join us tomorrow," Damien said, and Hermione looked at him in surprise.

"What's happening tomorrow?" Harry wondered.

"The men get together and smoke cigars, talk business," Victor answered, eyeing Harry.

"And the women go to the spa and shop," Beatrice spoke finally. "Would you be interested in such things or is that...not your cup of tea?" Hermione couldn't ignore the way she spoke down to her.

"I think that would be lovely," Hermione said, her voice dripping with artificial sweetness.

"Wonderful!" Cynthia said, and Hermione thought she sounded relieved. She couldn't blame her really.

"Yes, sounds like a decent plan. Send us a message tomorrow. Let us know times and we'll see you then. Goodnight," Harry said.

"Thanks for the wonderful evening," Hermione added.

"You're very welcome. Look forward to seeing you tomorrow Jonathan."

Harry grabbed Hermione's hand and led her out of the lounge. They found their way to the lift and once inside, Hermione exhaled a breath.

"What a strange evening," she said, laughing quietly.

"You're telling me," he agreed.

"And Gavin...what a nightmare."

"Did you notice how his father put him in his place so easily? He has his boys on a short leash."

"Yes. He's a bit frightening," Hermione said, stepping off the lift as the doors opened.

"There is something a bit unsettling about him. I'll keep an ear open tomorrow."

"The women go to the spa and shop. Is that something you would like to do or is that not your cup of tea?" Hermione asked in a false nasal voice, mimicking Beatrice Seville, as she opened their door.

Harry laughed. "She's quite the snobby wench, isn't she?"

"Quite," Hermione said, dropping her purse and kicking off her shoes. She sat on the edge of the bed and sighed. "I'm exhausted."

Harry sat down beside her. "How did you win all those rounds of cards? Were you cheating?"

Hermione shoved him away from her and huffed. "Certainly not. I'm evidently a better card player than you assumed. After all, once I read your book on the secrets of card playing, how could I lose?"

Harry laughed. "Now, that was a little nerve-racking."

"Tell me about it," she said, lying back on the bed.

Harry leaned back on his elbow and looked down at her. "And the kisses for luck--"

Hermione clenched her eyes closed immediately so Harry couldn't see the emotions hiding there. "Yeah," she laughed nervously, "awkward, huh?"

"Yeah..." he said softly, "...awkward. Perhaps my kisses brought you luck."

Hermione's eyes flew open and she couldn't stop the smile that tugged the corners of her mouth as she looked up at the lopsided grin on Harry's face.

"If you don't watch yourself, your ego is going to rival that of Malfoy's."

"I should hex you for that," he said, sitting up. He began to untie his shoes and toss them near the dresser.

Hermione rolled off the bed and pulled her pyjamas out of a drawer and went into the bathroom to change. When she came back into the bedroom, Harry was already underneath the covers. She crawled in beside him and switched off her bedside lamp.

"Goodnight Harry. Thanks again for being here with me," she said quietly.

She felt Harry shift beside her, and she knew he was looking at her even though the room was dark.

"Actually, I'm quite enjoying myself."

"Are you?" she asked innocently and wondered why her stomach was fluttering about.

"Yeah."

She felt her palms grow sweaty and she turned her face to where she supposed his was. "It's not as bad as you imagined?"

"I didn't imagine it was going to be bad," he admitted.

"But having to pretend you're married to me," she said, trying to keep her voice light and playful, but her throat was constricting.

She felt Harry turn from her and lay down. "Nah, that's much easier than I imagined," he said honestly, and then neither of them spoke again.

Hermione lay awake for a while longer, trying to decipher what Harry had meant. Perhaps he meant nothing by his comment, and she didn't understand why she wanted it to mean something more. Finally, her mind settled down and she eased into sleep, dreaming of card games and kisses.