The Coin

The pop and hiss of a log snapping in the fireplace punctuated the companionable silence that had fallen over the couple resting on the couch, enjoying the sensual jazz music playing softly in the background. Both were contentedly full from the delicious meal that Elizabeth had prepared and served using Muggle methods, a throwback to her days from being raised by Muggle parents. The dishes, however, had been disposed of the wizarding way. Elizabeth enjoyed the relaxation that cooking afforded her, but she was more than happy to be able to clean the dishes with a simple flick of her wand.

She watched Harry as he stared thoughtfully into the fire. He wasn’t a classically handsome wizard like some she had seen, but he was very attractive in a boyish sort of way. When he flashed her the grin that never failed to make her go weak in the knees, she thought he was the most handsome man she had ever seen. His ever-present glasses only heightened his appeal in her eyes. For some reason, she’d always thought that glasses made a man look incredibly sexy. Staring into the fire, the pensive look on his face at that moment made him look almost too sexy to be allowed.

“Knut for your thoughts,” Elizabeth broke the silence with her quietly spoken statement.

Harry turned to her. “Are you sure they’re worth that much?”

She lightly placed her hand on his arm. “They’re worth that and more,” she smiled at him.

Harry smiled back. “It’s nothing, really.” He tried to shrug it off. “I feel bad for even thinking it.”

“What, Harry? You know you can tell me,” Elizabeth prompted softly.

Harry grimaced. “You know,” he said finally, “I’m really dreading Friday night.”

“But I thought you wanted to meet Lissa?” Elizabeth asked in surprise.

“I do. In fact, I can’t wait to meet her.”

Elizabeth shot him a questioning look.

“Seeing Hermione again. I haven’t spoken to her since last night. She seemed to take what I told her well, but I just don’t know,” he frowned.

“You told her that you just wanted to be friends, right?” Harry nodded, so she continued, “Think she might have lingering feelings for you and still want more?”

“Don’t know…maybe. It’s not like Hermione to give up so easily.” Harry looked back at the fire, gazing thoughtfully into it. After a few moments, a different look stole across his features. “Hey, I’ve got an idea!” he exclaimed as inspiration struck him. “Why don’t you go with me Friday night?”

“To the dinner?” she queried.

Harry nodded enthusiastically.

“As your date?” Elizabeth asked, even more skeptically.

“Yeah, that way it won’t feel so much like Hermione and I are paired up. Without you there, it will be just the four of us.”

“And with me there, Hermione will feel like the fifth wheel since they’ll be five of us,” Elizabeth rationalized.

“Bugger, hadn’t thought of that,” Harry’s face fell in disappointment. “I’ve got it!” he exclaimed once again, his face alight with a smile, obviously pleased with himself.

“You’ve got what?” she asked warily.

“I’ll invite someone for Hermione.”

“Harry…I don’t know if that’s such a good idea,” Elizabeth began.

“No, it’s a great idea. That way Hermione won’t feel like a fifth wheel, and I won’t have to feel bad about bringing you and excluding her. Now I just have to think of someone to ask. Any ideas?”

Not certain that this was the brightest idea Harry had ever had, Elizabeth tried to think of someone who would suit Hermione. “How about Eric from work?” she finally offered.

“No, definitely not him,” Harry said flatly.

“Why not? What’s wrong with him? He’s tall, good looking, intelligent and really sweet too.”

“No, he’s definitely not Hermione’s type at all,” Harry frowned.

“Well, that was my best suggestion. You’re on your own then,” she said, a hint exasperation in her voice.

“I’ll think of someone.” Harry glanced over at the clock as it chimed the hour. “I didn’t realize it was so late. I’d better get going.” He stood, as did Elizabeth. She handed him his cloak from the end of the couch.

Harry stood there uncertainly, feeling awkward for the first time that evening. “Thanks for inviting me over,” he managed to say at last. “Dinner was wonderful. You’re a great cook, Elizabeth.”

She smiled up at him, a faint blush tingeing her cheeks. “You’re more than welcome, Harry. I had a wonderful time. We’ll have to do it again soon.”

“Yes, Friday night, right?” Harry grinned at her.

“Yes,” she sighed. “I’ll come for dinner on Friday night. It’s against my better judgment, mind you.”

Harry smiled at her as if he’d just caught the snitch mere seconds before the Slytherin seeker. He bent down, pulled Elizabeth into a brief hug, and then gave her a quick kiss on the mouth. Before she could respond, he’d released her, bade her good night and Disapparated.

Elizabeth stood there for long moments, arms wrapped around herself, gazing at the place Harry had just been. Slowly, she raised her hand to her lips, resting her fingertips there. She could still feel the warmth and pressure of Harry’s lips on hers, and she knew the thrilling feeling would linger for a long time afterwards.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

Two Days Later

Ron sat at his desk, pushing papers from one side to the other. He was supposed to be working on a report that was due first thing Monday morning, but he couldn’t concentrate. A certain honey haired beauty kept coming to his mind. Not that he was complaining, but that was happening with increasing frequency these days. Trying to focus his mind back on the task at hand, he was once again interrupted, this time by a knock on the door.

“Come in,” Ron called out.

The door opened and Harry walked in. “Sorry to disturb you, Ron. Just wanted to ask you a question, and I didn’t want to do it by owl.” Harry took a chair in front of Ron’s desk.

Ron rose, walked around his desk and propped himself against the front.

“What’s up?”

Harry glanced around a bit and wouldn’t meet Ron’s eyes. Finally he blurted out, “I was wondering if you’d mind if I invited someone to come to the dinner with me tonight?”

“Like a date?”

“Yeah, I guess, sort of. It’s someone I work with, and I’ve invited someone for Hermione too. That way we’re an even six instead of being left with an odd man out.”

Ron quirked an eyebrow at his friend. “Well if you already invited them, why are you asking me?”

“Uh, to be polite?”

Ron snorted, then asked, “Did you tell Hermione?”

“No, why should I?” replied Harry.

“No reason,” Ron smiled. Yeah. I don’t care. Invite whomever. It’s at your flat.” Ron turned away, shuffling papers on his desk. “And it’s your funeral,” he muttered under his breath.

“What?” questioned Harry.

“The more the merrier, I said.”

“Great. I’ll see you tonight.” Harry paused at the door and turned back toward Ron. “I can’t wait to meet Lissa tonight, Ron. If the stupid grin that’s on your face is any indication, she must be a something special.”

“Believe me, she is.” Ron stated, said stupid grin plastered firmly on his face.

Harry closed the door as he left, an answering smile on his own face.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

Hermione slowly plodded through the stack of files on the corner of her desk, biting her lower lip in concentration. All the departments had filed their R & D reports and she was trying valiantly to finish them before five o’clock. Normally, she would have stayed to work overtime or even have taken the files home with her, but she was due at Harry’s for dinner to finally meet Ron’s fiancée and she didn’t want to be late.

Harry. She hadn’t seen him since the night he’d tried so hard to convince her that he felt nothing more friendship for her. She hadn’t believed him then and a few days reflection only strengthened her desire to prove him wrong. In fact, she had awoken this morning with a renewed resolve to talk to him tonight. She wanted to make him admit that what he felt for her went far beyond friendship and that it wasn’t simply the physical reaction of a man to a woman who he found desirable as he’d so unsuccessfully tried to convince her.

Hermione mentally shook head. Her work would never get done if she let herself become consumed with him, so she pushed Harry out of her mind and tried to concentrate on the files. Only a few minutes later, her attention was once again pulled away from the files in front of her; this time, not by thoughts of Harry, but by the delighted squeals of a small child.

Hermione closed the file in front of her and rose to see who had caused the disturbance, although she had a fairly good idea who it was. Standing in Sabrina’s office was her superior, Mrs. Sheldon, who was holding her small daughter, Emma, in her arms. Sabrina was holding a large, brightly colored lollipop in front of Emma, who was squealing excitedly and making awkward grabs for the treat.

Hermione smiled in delight at the child. Mrs. Sheldon often brought her by the office when her nanny had the day off, and Hermione always enjoyed playing with the precocious little girl. Holding her hands out in greeting, Hermione caught the giggling child as Emma dove head first into her outstretched arms.

Lifting the toddler high in the air, Hermione brought her down to place a resounding kiss on her cheek, which sent the child into fresh peals of laughter. Hermione’s own laughter echoed the child’s.

Hermione’s boss smiled at her. “You’re so wonderful with children, Hermione. I don’t know why you don’t have a couple of you own yet. You’re not getting any younger, you know,” Mrs. Sheldon admonished, not for the first time.

Elia Sheldon was only five years Hermione’s senior but she never wasted the opportunity to remind Hermione that her biological clock was ticking and that she needed to find a nice wizard, settle down and raise a family, while balancing a fulfilling career, of course.

Hermione had always thought that when the right man came along that she would know it. But she wondered, had the right man been standing by her side for all this time and she hadn’t even recognized it? If the dreams she had been having the last couple of nights were any indication, he might just have been. She forcefully pushed away her recurring dream image of herself holding a dark haired toddler with vivid green eyes.

Hermione smiled at her boss and handed the squirming child back to her mother. “I better get back to work if I have any intention of finishing before I go home tonight.” She pointedly avoided making any other comment about children to the other woman.

“Of course, I’ll let you get back to work. Do you have any big plans for the weekend?” Mrs. Sheldon asked, as she got ready to leave.

“Just dinner with some friends,” Hermione replied, nonchalantly.

“Sounds like fun. Now then, go back and attack that stack of files,” she said in her best authoritative voice. She gazed lovingly at her little girl. “Tell them bye bye, Emma.” Emma raised her pudgy, little hand and waved good-bye at Hermione and Sabrina, the sweet she’d charmed from Sabrina clutched tightly in her other hand.

After they’d departed, Hermione walked back to her office. Sabrina called out to stop her. “Hey boss, did you ever read that book on coins I loaned you?”

“No, Sabrina. I never did. To be honest, the whole business about that coin completely slipped my mind. I guess I‘ve had too much else going on to worry about it. Oh well,” Hermione shrugged, “it wasn’t important anyway. I’m not worried about it.”

Walking back into her office, she settled herself behind her desk once again, determined to push aside thoughts of Harry, green-eyed infants and anything else that distracted her from the task at hand.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

The stars winked in the velvety, black night sky, almost as if they had a secret only they could impart to the young lovers who strolled hand in hand down the fairly, deserted street. Night had brought a cool nip back to the air, but Lissa was reluctant to hasten the pace that would bring them to Harry’s flat any sooner.

She had been both dreading and anticipating this evening. Meeting Harry and Hermione had been something she had wanted to do since Ron had first told her about his best friends. From what he’d said, it sounded like she and Hermione had a lot in common, so she was hoping that they could become good friends. And she couldn’t wait to meet the man who had been such a good friend to Ron since he was 11 years old.

But what if they didn’t like her?

It wasn’t as if she considered herself an unlikable person. In fact, she knew that most people that met her found her to be very sweet and generous. But the opinions of two other people had never mattered so much, because no one had ever mattered to her as much as Ron did.

All too soon, as far as Lissa was concerned, they arrived at Harry’s door. She noticed an older lady out sweeping her walkway across the street; she saw her cast a quick glance in their direction, then look hastily away.

Lissa stopped Ron just as he was about to ring the doorbell.

“Wait, Ron.”

Ron surveyed Lissa’s worried expression with a critical eye. “What’s wrong sweetheart?” he asked in concern.

“What if…what if they don’t like me?”

The uncertain look on his fiancée’s face almost broke his heart. “Sweetheart,” he drew her into his arms, “why would you even think that? Of course they’re going to love you. How could they not?” He rubbed her back reassuringly, and she snuggled closer to him, reveling in the comfort he offered.

“I know I’m just being silly, but they’re your best friends and I just want them to like me.”

Cupping her face with his hands, he kissed the tip of her nose gently. “Then just be yourself and there’s no way they can help but love you. Just like me.” Lissa gave him a watery smile in response. Ron pulled her back into his arms and gave her a long, deep kiss. When he let her go, he saw an older man pulling an old woman back into the door of the flat across the way. He thought he heard her mutter something about young people and things better left to the imagination.

Ron grinned broadly at Lissa. “Ready?” At her nod of assent, he turned back to the door.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

Harry hurried to finish with the preparations for the evening’s supper. The steaks were marinating in the fridge, the wine was open and breathing on the counter, the potatoes were roasting in the oven, and he had just finished slicing the vegetables to go in the salad. He could hear Elizabeth laying out the silverware on the table in the dining room; she was humming softly to herself.

Glancing up at the clock on the wall, he realized that it wouldn’t be long before his guests arrived. Harry fought down a sudden wave of apprehension that settled into the pit of his stomach that made it feel like he had just swallowed a snitch. He knew he didn’t have anything to worry about. He was sure he was going to like Lissa. From everything Ron had told him about her, she sounded like an absolutely fantastic person.

It isn’t Lissa that you’re worried about, spoke a voice inside Harry’s head. And it was dead right. It wasn’t Lissa that he was worried about. It was Hermione. Or more precisely Hermione’s reaction to the blind date that he’d invited for her this evening…without her knowledge or consent. Harry found himself thinking-not for the first time that evening-that he wished he’d listened to Elizabeth when she’d tried to convince him this wasn’t such a good idea. When the doorbell chimed, he knew it was too late for backing out and recriminations would do no good.

“I’ll get it,” he called to Elizabeth, walking out of the kitchen to greet his first guests.

He opened the door to find Ron and his fiancée standing there, Ron grinning broadly down at Lissa. Harry noted that Ron’s bride-to-be was very pretty. She wasn’t beautiful in the classic sense; she had a heart-shaped face that was framed by a cascade of shoulder length honey colored hair. But what drew Harry to her were her eyes, they were a warm hazel in color and they looked up at him with a mixture of shyness and something else Harry couldn’t quite pinpoint. Sadness maybe. That was it; her eyes reflected a deep sadness that he knew losing her mother must have put there.

Realizing he’d been standing there staring, he grinned in apology. “I’m so sorry. Come in.” He stepped aside to allow the pair entrance, taking their coats and placing them on the coat rack by the door. They followed Harry to the living area, all were feeling a little awkward as they waited for the introductions to be made.

“Harry, this is my fiancée, Melissa Sullivan.” Ron paused as Harry held out his hand. “Lissa, this is my best friend, Harry Potter.” Ron grinned nervously from one to the other. He hadn’t realized how important this meeting was until that very moment. He had assumed that his two best friends would like Lissa instantly; another option had never crossed his mind. But now that Lissa’s hand rested in Harry’s, he hoped that his friend could see the beautiful person his fiancée was, inside and out.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Harry. Ron’s told me so much about you,” Lissa murmured in her soft southern drawl which Harry found immediately engaging.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Lissa,” Harry replied, letting go of her hand. “Or should I call you Melissa?” he asked.

“No, please call me Lissa. Everyone does. About the only person who calls me Melissa is my mom when she’s put out with me. Well, she used to anyway.” A brief flicker of pain shot through her eyes at the thought.

“I’m sorry about your mum, Lissa. Ron told us you lost her recently,” Harry said sincerely.

“Thanks,” she answered with a melancholy smile. She looked around Harry’s flat. “Are we the first ones to arrive? Hermione’s not here yet?” she questioned.

“I told her that Hermione would probably beat us here. That is, unless she saw a library or bookstore on the way over.” Ron grinned and slid his arm around Lissa’s waist, pulling her close to his side.

“No, Hermione hasn’t gotten here yet. Just Elizabeth.” Harry answered with a grin of his own.

“Did someone say my name?” Elizabeth asked, as she walked through the door separating the living and dining rooms. Walking right up to Lissa, she offered her hand. “I’m Elizabeth. I work with Harry. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” Lissa replied politely.

“And you must be Ron.” She offered him her hand, which he took; she clasped it warmly in both of hers. “Harry’s told me so much about you and Hermione. I feel as if I already know you.”

Ron let his gaze travel over Elizabeth. Harry’s co-worker was certainly beautiful; a fact that Harry had failed to mention. Slim, but with nice curves, raven black hair hanging loose down her back, she wore a pale peach pantsuit that would have made most women look sallow but which made her skin radiate with a healthy glow.

Ron finally found his voice to answer. “Well, that makes you one up on me. Harry’s hardly told me anything about you. Now I’ve got to wonder why.” Lissa’s elbow found the soft flesh of Ron’s side with a well-placed jab, and he grinned at her unrepentantly. Elizabeth was saved from replying by the chiming on the doorbell.

“I’ll get it. It’s probably Hermione.” Harry strode to the door.

“Or Hermione’s date for the evening. Who’d you end up with? Neville?” Ron asked with a smirk.

Harry threw a quelling look back in Ron’s direction as he opened the door. Hermione stood there, smiling nervously. Harry smiled back as he held the door open wide enough for her to enter. After he helped remove her coat, he ushered her to the living area to the group waiting there.

With no small amount of trepidation, Ron once again made introductions. These were two of the most important women in his life. That they like and accept each other was of paramount importance to him. He had told Lissa about his former relationship with Hermione, and he had assured her he had no lingering romantic feelings for his friend. And he knew Hermione’s romantic feelings for him were long over, but still a small part of his brain worried that there might be a feeling of jealousy on one or both of their parts. When they shook hands and smiled warmly at each other, he let out a relieved breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.

After Lissa had finished telling Hermione how glad she was to meet her, Elizabeth stepped forward for her introduction. Hermione’s eyes widened in surprise as a startled expression crossed her face when she realized just where, and under what circumstances, she had seen this woman. When she had come into the room, her focus had been so immediately taken with the woman standing beside Ron she had hardly even registered that another person was there.

Harry stepped forward and made the necessary introductions, avoiding Hermione’s eyes and the questioning look she sent him. Elizabeth responded with genuine gladness at meeting Harry’s best friend. But Hermione, however, made the appropriate gestures by rote, all the while her mind was spinning with the implications of what Elizabeth being there meant.

After the introductions were completed, everyone settled themselves into chairs, with Lissa, Ron and Hermione sharing the couch. Harry and Elizabeth settled themselves into two overstuffed chairs on either end. After a moment of awkward silence, Hermione decided to ignore Elizabeth’s presence and its implications and turn her attention to Ron’s fiancée.

“So, Lissa, tell me all about yourself. Ron didn’t give Harry and me too many details. And I want to know everything about the woman who stole my best friend’s heart.” Hermione smiled at Lissa, a smile meant to put the obviously nervous woman at ease and assure her she was offering her hand in friendship.

Lissa immediately responded to Hermione’s unspoken offer and congenial smile. Ron felt the tension ease under his hand, which rested on Lissa’s shoulder. She turned slightly to face Hermione and took a deep breath. “Well, where do you want me to begin?”

“I know you’re from the States, but your grandmother lived here. How do you like living here as opposed to Georgia, was it?” asked Hermione.

Lissa pushed a thick lock of hair back from her face, smiling at Hermione. “I was raised there, yes. I loved where I lived in Georgia. It wasn’t a long drive to the coast. Mom used to take me for two weeks every summer. I still miss Georgia terribly sometimes.” Lest her new friends think she didn’t like her new home, she hastened to add, “But England has its own beauty, although with Mom being so sick, I must admit I haven’t had much time to explore the countryside. I can’t wait to do that.”

“Maybe we can do that together. Wouldn’t an outing like that be fun?” Hermione asked, glancing over in Harry’s direction. “Just the four of us.” Hermione pointedly ignored Elizabeth sitting there. Elizabeth shifted uncomfortably in her chair.

Harry cleared his throat nervously. “Anybody hungry? I’ll put the steaks on the grill,” he offered, rising from his chair.

“Want some help?” Elizabeth asked hopefully.

Harry glanced quickly over at Hermione. She had her bottom lip caught in her teeth, her eyes narrowed slightly; she was giving Elizabeth a decidedly unfriendly look. He knew that Hermione had believed him that nothing had happened between he and Elizabeth that night, but he could only imagine what must be going through her mind right now. Better not fan any flames he wasn’t sure he could put out.

“Nah. I’ll be right back.” Harry beat a hasty retreat toward the kitchen, throwing Elizabeth an apologetic look that Hermione couldn’t see. Yes, Potter, old boy, you stepped in it this time, he thought. Next time, he’d listen to Elizabeth. And the evening only threatened to go even further downhill.

Hermione turned her back to Elizabeth. “And Ron told me that you’re a teacher, Lissa. Do you enjoy that?”

Just as she was about to answer, the doorbell chimed again.

“Wonder who that could be?” Hermione said, rising from the couch. “That’s okay,” she told Elizabeth firmly as the other woman started to get out of her seat. “I’ll get it.”

Ron leaned in close to Lissa and whispered in her ear. “Nope, I think Harry’s going to be the one to get it,” he said with a smirk.

Lissa frowned at him and shook her head slightly.

Hermione opened the door to reveal a very tall, very good-looking man on the other side of the portal. “Can I help you?” she questioned.

“Yes, you certainly can. Especially if you’re Hermione,” the man said with a broad grin.

“Yes, I am. And you are?”

Harry walked back in from the kitchen, drying his hands on a towel. “I thought I heard the doorbell. Oh…”

Before Harry could say any more, the dark haired man spoke again. “I’m Eric,” his rich baritone voice flowed through the room. “Your date for the evening.”

“My what?” Hermione asked in confusion.

“Hi, Eric. Glad you could make it.” Harry had walked over to the door and gently moved Hermione back to allow Eric entrance into the flat since she seemed to be rooted to the spot. Sparing a quick glance at Hermione, Harry closed the door. He then turned to her to make the introductions, once again avoiding the eyes that he was sure shone with fire if the set of her jaw was any indication. He was counting on her basic good nature not to make a scene in front of the others, but he had a feeling once she got him alone there would be hell to pay. Talk about hindsight being 20/20.

“Hermione,” he began cautiously. “This is Eric Seakays. He works with Elizabeth and me.”

“Eric, this is Hermione Granger.” Harry held his breath waiting for Hermione’s reaction.

Hermione smiled sweetly and extended her hand. “It’s my pleasure, Eric.”

“No, Hermione. Let me assure you, the pleasure is all mine.” The deep timbre of his voice broke over the room like restless waves.

Hermione slipped her hand through the crook of Eric’s arm, a small smile playing across her lips. “Harry didn’t tell me he’d gotten me such a charming date. Let me introduce you to the others,” she said as she led him to the living area. Harry stood there in shock, his mouth hanging slightly agape. This wasn’t the reaction he’d expected at all.

By the time the introductions were finished once again, Hermione and Eric were sitting much closer on the couch than he was comfortable with. Harry walked back over to the group. “Eric, why don’t you take this chair, I’ll be busy with the steaks and won’t need it.” He indicated the chair on the far side of the couch from Hermione. “You’ll have much more room.”

“I’m fine right here, Harry. As long as I’m not crowding you, Hermione.” He turned on the couch towards Hermione, his knee bumping hers.

“No, I’m fine. Got plenty of room.” Hermione settled back into the cushions underneath the arm that Eric had draped there. She smiled sweetly at Eric again. Harry grimaced; Ron snorted, turning it into a fit of coughing when Lissa glared at him once more.

Hermione looked up at Elizabeth, who was hovering near Harry’s elbow. “Why don’t you help Harry in the kitchen, Elizabeth,” she said dismissively, “while we all get better acquainted.” She turned her attention back to Eric and Lissa and began to ask each questions about themselves and their jobs.

“Come on, Harry. Let’s go get the steaks on the grill.” Elizabeth turned to go to the kitchen; Harry followed along behind obediently, casting one more glance over his shoulder at the four people on the couch deep in conversation.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

Once in the kitchen, Elizabeth watched Harry angrily jerk open the refrigerator door, take the plate of steaks out and sling them onto the counter. If Elizabeth hadn’t been standing close enough to catch them, they would have been ordering dinner out that evening. She quirked her eyebrow at Harry, giving him a slightly bemused look.

“Eric?” she questioned with an arched brow.

“I couldn’t get anyone else. They were all busy. Even Neville,” Harry stated in a defensive voice

“I see.” And she did, more than she wanted to. “I thought you didn’t want to be more than friends with Hermione,” Elizabeth stated quietly.

“I don’t,” Harry responded in a firm tone.

Elizabeth’s raised eyebrow questioned his statement more than further words could.

Harry ran his hand through his already mussed hair. “I really don’t, Elizabeth. It’s just that…” he trailed off.

“You really didn’t expect the jealousy to stab you quite so hard when you saw them together,” she finished for him.

Harry let out an exasperated sigh. “No, I didn’t. But that still doesn’t change my mind about wanting a relationship with Hermione. It can’t work.”

“Okay, if you say so.” Unfortunately, Elizabeth wasn’t convinced. “So, if you don’t want her, then what do you have against some other bloke being interested in her? From everything you’ve told me about Hermione, she’s an absolutely terrific person. Don’t you want to see her happy, Harry?”

“Of course, I want her to be happy. I want that more than anything else,” Harry stated emphatically.

“Then what’s the harm in a nice wizard like Eric showing her some attention? I’ve worked with him even longer than I’ve worked with you. He’s a very nice man. You set this up; give it a chance to work.”

“Okay, I guess I can do that,” Harry replied begrudgingly, not happy about it in the least.

“Good,” she smiled at him, and then opened the oven door to check the potatoes. “I still can’t believe you like to cook the Muggle way,” she said, bringing an end to their previous conversation, wishing she could as easily change Harry’s feelings for his best friend.

“Old habits die hard, I guess,” Harry grinned at her.

Elizabeth grinned back, pushing all troubling thoughts from her mind and handed him the plate of steaks to put on the grill.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

All around the table contented sighs could be heard from the diners seated there.

Everyone pushed back their plates and placed their napkins back on the table, expressing their appreciation for the wonderful meal.

“Oh,” Ron groaned. “I’m too full and I ate too much; I think I might be sick.”

“Anyone who ate as much as you, then had two pieces of chocolate cake on top of all that deserves to be sick,” Harry laughed and everyone joined in.

Ron gave Harry a dirty look and then rubbed his stomach, groaning in misery.

“In Ron’s defense, that was very good chocolate cake, Harry. Where did you buy it?” Hermione asked.

“I didn’t. Elizabeth made it,” Harry told her.

Hermione looked across the table at Elizabeth, who was seated beside Harry. “It was really very good, Elizabeth,” she complimented only slightly begrudgingly.

Elizabeth smiled in pleasure at the compliment. “Thanks, Hermione. I’ll give you the recipe. It’s really not that hard to make.”

Ron snorted; Harry choked back a laugh behind his hand. Hermione glared at both of them.

At Elizabeth’s quizzical look, Ron explained, “Hermione isn’t much of a cook.”

Harry added, “You’d think as good as she is with spells and such that she could follow a recipe. And maybe if she could keep her nose out of a book long enough not to burn the food, it might actually be edible.” He laughed and grinned over at Hermione, hoping to elicit a smile from her. Jokes about her cooking usually did, and smiles had been in short supply from her tonight-at least smiles in his direction. Eric, however, was in danger of being blinded by the smiles she threw his way.

Hermione genuinely smiled at him for the first time that evening. Harry grinned in response. Then Hermione turned to Eric and asked, “Would you like to risk my cooking sometime, Eric?” Harry’s grin faded instantly.

Smiling in response, Eric replied, “I’d love to. You name the day and time and I’ll be there.”

“I’ll be sure to do that,” Hermione smiled sweetly at him, covering his hand with her own.

At the end of the table, Ron broke out in a fit of coughing, his eyes watering profusely. Lissa patted his back to help him catch his breath.

“Water,” he choked out.

Lissa picked his water glass up and handed it to him.

“No, water…went down…wrong way,” Ron gulped, trying to catch his breath.

Leaning towards him, Lissa wiped at the tears streaming down his face with her napkin and admonished under her breath, “Serves you right for laughing at Harry and Hermione. You shouldn’t try to laugh and drink at the same time.” She dabbed the last tear from his cheek and sat back in her chair and smiled at him. When he was able, Ron smiled back.

Everyone looked on with concern until they were sure that Ron’s coughing fit was over. Then Elizabeth suggested they take their coffee back to the living room so they could all be more comfortable. Once everyone was settled into their previous seating arrangements, Hermione turned to Lissa and asked her to give them all the details of her courtship with Ron.

Lissa turned from Hermione to Ron, taking his hand in hers and entwining their fingers together, the love she felt for him shining brightly in her eyes. “The night I met Ron was the luckiest of my life. I really think we were meant to meet and fall in love.” Five smiles answered her statement, Ron’s the most watery. Her soft, southern cadence echoed in the quiet room as she continued her story. “Every night, Ron would meet me in the park. Sometimes, we’d just sit on a bench and talk. Sometimes, we’d take long walks through the park, just strolling and holding hands. Occasionally, he’d take me out to eat, but more often he’d bring a picnic supper. I thought that was the most incredibly romantic thing anyone had ever done for me. Then when Mom got so sick and I couldn’t leave her to meet him in the park anymore, he’d come over to the house every day after work.” Lissa’s voice broke a little. Ron put his other hand over their clasped fingers and stroked her hand gently in encouragement.

“What I’d like to know,” Harry said, wanting to change the subject and chase away the sorrow he saw in Lissa’s eyes “is how Ron kept the fact that he’s a wizard from you for so long?”

Lissa smiled in appreciation at Harry. “It was fairly simple actually. He just didn’t tell me and I didn’t think to ask.”

Laughter filled the room at Lissa’s comment. “No, really, Harry. I had no clue. Ron always met me in the park. I never went to his flat. He told me he worked for the Ministry. He failed to say it was the Ministry of Magic.”

“Picky, picky,” Ron interjected with a laugh.

“What about a phone number?” Hermione asked. “Didn’t you think it strange that Ron didn’t give you his?”

“That was a sticky point,” admitted Lissa. “But if his intentions were to harm me, he could have easily done that the night we met. So I shrugged it off as one of his eccentricities. He said he didn’t like to use the phone. In fact,” she glanced over at Ron and laughed, “I believe the line went something like, ‘I’d rather see your beautiful face and hear that sweet southern voice in person than have to imagine it over the phone’ or something to that effect.” Lissa gave Ron an affectionate smile.

“And you fell for that?” Elizabeth asked incredulously.

“Hook, line and sinker.” Lissa laughed at herself and the others in the room joined in.

Once the laughter had died down, Ron offered, “They don’t call me ‘Mr. Smooth’ for nothing.”

Harry and Hermione snorted; Lissa shook her head in amusement.

“Oh, honey, if I’d agreed to marry you because you were ‘Mr. Smooth’, you’d still be quite unattached,” Lissa said, kissing him on the cheek.

Ron frowned in mock hurt and anger, but quickly changed it to a devilish grin, a twinkle lighting his blue eyes. “That‘s right, sweetheart, you agreed to marry me because I’m so handsome and such a great kisser.” He swooped in and gave Lissa a quick but firm kiss.

She rubbed her lips where Ron had just kissed her with her forefinger. Leaning back from him, she studied his face thoughtfully and then finally said in all seriousness, “Well, at least you’re half right.”

Ron sputtered; everyone else laughed and guffawed; Lissa sat there with a serene smile on her face.

After everyone had quit laughing, Harry said, “I’ll be a gentleman and not ask which half.”

“And since I’ve kissed Ron before, I can figure it out, so…” Hermione added mischievously.

“Thanks. With friends like you two…” Ron began.

“Now, now,” Lissa giggled.

“Oh and I want to know,” Hermione said while trying quite unsuccessfully to control her own giggles, “how you took the news when Ron told you he was a wizard?”

Looking around at the group of people who had made her feel so welcome, Lissa smiled. A week ago she hadn’t believed that witches and wizards even existed outside of fairytales or fables. And she told the attentive group so.

“So when Ron told me he was a wizard, my reaction was more or less skeptical.”

“More,” Ron said. “Much more.”

Lissa continued as if Ron hadn’t interrupted her. “I didn’t start to believe him until he pulled out his wand and did a few tricks.”

“Spells, honey. They’re called spells or charms,” Ron supplied helpfully.

“Spells, charms, whatever. I still thought he was going to pull a rabbit out of a hat or make a bunch of flowers appear with that wand. That was the only kind of magic I’d ever believed in. But when he disappeared right in front of my eyes, I finally knew he wasn’t kidding.”

“Disapparated,” Ron corrected gently.

Lissa sighed. “See, I’ll never learn all of these terms and such either. Hermione, Ron said that you probably still have some of your old school books that you’d be willing to lend me to read up on everything.”

Ron and Harry both opened their mouths to speak, but the quelling look Hermione shot them made them both close them instantly. “I’m sure I still have a couple lying around somewhere that would be helpful.”

“Thanks, Hermione. I’d appreciate it. I know I have a lot to learn.” She smiled briefly at Ron. “I do have to admit that it was a surprise to find out that Ron was a wizard. To say that I was shocked…well that would be putting it mildly. I could only begin to imagine the problems that it might cause for our relationship. And that was only after I started to believe that it was true. But then Ron got down on one knee and asked me to marry him, and suddenly I didn’t see the man who had just told me he was a wizard, but the man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.”

Leaning over, Ron kissed her gently on the lips, then placed his forehead against hers. “And I thank my lucky stars every day that you did.”

Lissa pulled her gaze reluctantly from Ron’s. “And that’s our courtship in a nutshell.”

“I think that’s incredibly sweet,” said Elizabeth.

“So do I,” added Hermione, looking none too pleased to be agreeing with Elizabeth.

“When are you two getting married?” asked Eric.

“In a couple of months,” replied Ron. “We’re waiting a bit out of respect for Lissa’s mum. I’d marry her tomorrow if it weren’t for that. We are going to start house hunting tomorrow, though. We decided to sell her mum’s house and let my flat go and get a place that’s just ours.”

“Speaking of that, we’d better get going. We have an early morning appointment to look at houses,” Lissa told the group, rising gracefully from the couch. Ron stood up beside her and all the rest followed suit.

Turning to Harry, Lissa took his hand in both of hers. “Thank you, Harry, for an absolutely lovely evening. You don’t know how nervous I was coming over here tonight. I was sure that you and Hermione wouldn’t like me then Ron would have to call off the wedding. But you both made me feel so at ease. You all did and I thank you for that.” Lissa smiled gratefully at all of them.

Harry squeezed Lissa’s hand gently with his own. “No, Lissa, I should be thanking you. I’ve never seen Ron so happy in all the years I’ve known him. He deserves someone special and I think he’s found her in you.” Harry leaned down and placed a soft kiss on Lissa’s cheek.

Hermione stepped up next and gave Lissa a goodbye hug. “I think we’re going to be wonderful friends, Lissa.”

“So do I.” Lissa hugged her back. “And it was very nice meeting the two of you, as well,” she said to Eric and Elizabeth.

After Ron bid Harry good night and gave Hermione a hug and kiss, he escorted Lissa out with a big I-told-you-so grin plastered all over his face.

“I suppose I should be going too,” Eric said. “Can I see you home, Hermione?”

“No. But thank you though. I need to stay and talk to Harry for a few minutes, alone.”

Elizabeth understood that Hermione was politely trying to get rid of her too. “Well, I guess I’ll see you at work on Monday then, Harry.”

Harry sent Elizabeth an apologetic look. “Yeah, and thanks for all your help tonight. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Sure, anytime, Harry. And Hermione, it was very nice to meet you. You’re every bit as wonderful as Harry said you were,” Elizabeth said sincerely, causing Hermione to feel a twinge of guilt at the cold shoulder she had been giving Elizabeth all evening. “And I hope there are no bad feelings about the other night either.”

“No, there aren’t. Harry told me that nothing happened and I believe him.”

“Good, I’m glad,” Elizabeth replied.

“And Elizabeth,” Hermione stopped her as she took her coat from Eric and prepared to Disapparate, “it was very nice to meet you too.”

Elizabeth smiled, bid them all good night, then Disapparated.

Eric stood there, holding his coat and looking as if he wanted to say something more to Hermione.

“See you Monday, Eric. Good of you to come,” Harry said dismissively.

“Harry,” Hermione admonished. “I think Eric was about to say something”

Glancing from the expectant look on Hermione’s face to the scowl on Harry’s, Eric cleared his throat and asked, “Hermione, would you like to go out with me sometime?”

Before Hermione could answer, Harry demanded, “Don’t you think it’s a little soon to be asking her out considering you’ve only just met her?”

Eric met Harry’s glower straight on. “I think it’s up to Hermione to say if she wants to go out with me or not. How about it, Hermione? Would you do me the great honor of going on a date with me sometime?”

Hermione cast a surreptitious glance at Harry from under her lashes. His eyes danced with green fire. She turned back toward Eric and took his hand in her own. “I’d love to. Just let me know when and where.” She smiled sweetly up at him.

“Great, I will.” He gave her hand a quick squeeze, winked at her and then Disapparated.

Harry stood there glowering at her.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

Ron stopped abruptly and turned to face Lissa. “Are you sure I can’t Apparate back into Harry’s kitchen so I can hear what’s going on?”

“Ronald Weasley! I can’t believe you’d even suggest such a thing,” Lissa exclaimed in a shocked voice.

“Ah, come on, Lissa. Wouldn’t you just love to see Hermione lay into Harry?” Ron asked with a mischievous grin.

“Ron, it’s Harry and Hermione’s problem, and they’ll work it out the best they can. But if Harry would just quit being so stubborn and admit how he feels about Hermione, then it would settle everything.”

“Oh, so you think it Harry’s fault, do you?” Ron smiled.

“Of course, isn’t it always the guy’s fault?” Lissa grinned mischievously back at him.

Ron grabbed her around the waist, pulled her close to him and kissed her soundly.

“What was that?” she questioned breathlessly.

“The best way to win an argument with you,” he stated.

Lissa curled her arms around Ron’s neck, bringing his face down close to hers once more. “Remind me to let you win some of the arguments then.”

“Just some?” he whispered before he claimed her lips in another fierce kiss.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

“Do you really think that going out with Eric is such a good idea, Hermione? You just met the man.” Harry stated with a trace of anger evident in his voice.

“And exactly why wouldn’t it be, Harry? You were the one who brought him here tonight as my date after all. I think Eric is perfectly charming. Handsome and intelligent. Just the kind of man I’d like to date. Do you have a problem with that?” she questioned.

“And what if I do? What if I mind having to sit and watch you throw yourself at some bloke you just met. Some bloke who’s not good enough for you by half.” Anger made his voice rise.

Harry’s anger sparked the flame of Hermione’s own. “What right do you have to say who I can and cannot go out with, Harry Potter? You don’t want me as more than your friend. You made that abundantly clear the other night. But the second someone else pays me a bit of attention, your hackles rise like some alpha dog protecting its territory. Well you can’t have it both ways, Harry.” Hermione took a step closer to him, her eyes flashing with anger. “You either want me or you don’t. It’s a simple choice really.”

Forcing herself to look up into Harry’s vivid green eyes, she saw the sparks of his anger still sizzling there, but behind the anger she thought she saw something else, something that made her heart leap with a hope she told herself she was crazy to feel. Was she imagining it? Was she projecting the feelings she felt for Harry into what she saw in his eyes? She had to know.

She’d been playing a dangerous game all evening, a game that threatened to leave her with a broken heart. When she had come here tonight, she had come with the determination to find out if Harry was being honest when he said he truly didn’t want her as more than a friend. Harry had unwittingly given her the means to confirm how he really felt.

Seeing her with someone else had made him jealous, very jealous from the look of things. After the first kiss they had shared, there had been no question in Hermione’s mind that Harry had wanted her as a woman and not just as a friend. And though he had told her the way he had reacted to her would be the same with any desirable woman, Hermione could not bring herself to believe that. If his jealousy tonight was any indication, regardless of his denials, he really did want her.

But now, looking into the eyes of her best friend, Hermione finally acknowledged to herself what she had been fighting since that night their lips had first met. She was no longer simply falling for her best friend, but was instead honest-to-goodness, head-over-heels in love with Harry. And if she was honest with herself, she had to admit that she had been for sometime. She had come here tonight determined to make Harry confront his feelings, but she had instead come face to face with her own.

Seeing Ron and Lissa together had cinched it. Rarely had she ever seen two people so in love. It wasn’t so much what they said; instead, it was the silent communication between them that spoke volumes. The way Ron held Lissa’s hand in a show of support and the way Lissa looked lovingly at Ron when she thought no one else was looking. Hermione wanted that kind of love. She wanted it with Harry. And if she could only get him to admit it, she knew that he wanted that too…with her. She just had to find the courage to ask him.

If he denied his feelings once again, she’d walk out of his flat and out of his life forever. As hard as that would be, she would do it.

Taking another step closer until there wasn’t a hairsbreadth of space between them, Hermione lightly placed her hand on Harry’s cheek, drawing his gaze to hers. “I have a question and I want you to answer me honestly. Do you want me, Harry? Not just my body. But me. Do you want me?” She allowed all the newly discovered love she felt for him to radiate up from her heart to shine out through her moist, brown eyes.

Harry closed his own eyes for a brief moment, drew in a ragged breath and answered the only way he possibly could, “Yes.” It was only a whisper but that one simple word echoed deep into Hermione’s soul.

Hermione wasn’t certain who moved first, if she had placed her arms around Harry or if he had reached for her, but she found herself enveloped in an embrace that felt like coming home after a long journey away. And she realized that she was. Home. And everything that the word implied. Comfortable. Safe. Secure. Protected. Accepted. Cherished. Loved. And she had had all of that with Harry all along.

Holding her close, rocking their bodies gently to and fro, Harry rested his check against the crown of Hermione’s head, her soft hair tickling his cheek. “Hermione?”

“Hmm?”

“You’re canceling your date with Eric,” Harry stated in a tone that brooked no argument.

He felt Hermione smile against his chest. “You think that’s funny, do you?” He pulled back slightly so he could look into her face.

“I never had a date with Eric.” At Harry’s quizzical frown, she continued, “When you and Elizabeth went into the kitchen, I told him that I was sorry he’d been misled into thinking I wanted to be set up with him. That he seemed like a very nice man, but I was interested in someone else and that someone else was you.”

“Oh, you did, did you?”

“Yes, I did. Then he offered to help pay you back for being such a prat by setting me up without my knowledge. I couldn’t resist taking him up on his offer. Are you horribly mad at me?” she asked tentatively.

“Horribly,” he grinned at her, resting his cheek back on her head. “Elizabeth called me on the jealousy thing when we went into the kitchen. But I denied it to her.”

“So what changed your mind?”

“Hearing Eric actually ask you out on a date. I got this sudden vivid flash of you out with him, in his arms…with him kissing you. And I knew I was never going to let that happen. I thought I was going to have to get down on my knees and tell you how sorry I was for pushing you away before. To tell you I really did want to give us a chance.”

“You could still do that you know. That works for me.” Hermione grinned mischievously at him.

“How about I show you instead?”

Hermione’s breath caught in her throat, a thrill of anticipation chasing down her spine. “And how, pray tell, Mr. Potter, are you going to do that?”

“Like this.” Harry caught her lips under his in a hungry kiss, devouring her mouth like a man long starved for love. He wanted to taste every last drop of the sweetness that was Hermione. He plundered her mouth until they were both breathless and gasping for air. Finally, he relinquished her mouth to feather soft kisses along her jaw, down her neck then back to her mouth for one final taste of her lips. When he finally pulled his mouth from hers, she whimpered in protest.

Harry scooped Hermione into his arms, eliciting a surprised squeal from her and carried her to the couch. He laid her down gently and snuggled in behind her. Turning to face him, Hermione curled against him, pillowing her head on his chest. Harry began raining little kisses from her hair across her cheek until he reached her mouth, which he claimed as his once again. Hermione returned his kisses with sweet abandon. Finally, Harry relinquished her lips and pillowed her head on his chest once more.

They laid cuddled together until the steady rhythm of his breathing had lulled her to sleep.

But sleep eluded Harry; too many feelings were washing over him in waves. Desire…he wanted Hermione like he had never wanted another woman before. Fear…he was still afraid for Hermione’s safety if the wrong people found out how special she was to him. But the most confusing emotion of all was love. Not the love that he had felt for Hermione since she had became his friend at eleven years old, but the all consuming, til-death-do-you part kind of love.

He was falling in love with his best friend. That Hermione was already in love with him was plain to see. A peace unlike any he had ever felt came over him at the realization. Harry snuggled Hermione closer to him, closed his eyes and slept, secure in the knowledge for the very first time in his memory that he was truly loved.