Pretty Woman

Ten minutes later, the Ferrari, driven by a very excited and enthusiastic Hermione, came to a screaming halt outside The Ritz. As Harry was once again thrown towards the windscreen by the sudden stop, Hermione turned the engine off and took a deep sigh. “I love this car,” she whispered. Too bad I won’t be able to drive it again.

“James?” asked Hermione, when he didn’t answer she looked at him and started to smile. Harry was sitting back straight, his right hand gripping his t-shirt where his heart was beating furiously beneath, he was as white as a sheet and a thin line of sweat could be seen on his forehead. “James?” repeated Hermione.

“You, you, you.” Harry breathed out. He was having trouble breathing, she was a menace on the road, “You are never driving again, I will have you arrested if you even so mention you are driving again, especially if I am anywhere near the car at the time.” gasped Harry.

Hermione laughed out loud, but calmed down when she saw the death-glares Harry was shooting at her, “I’m sorry James, but I’ve never drove a car like this before, it was new and exciting, I can’t believe you don’t like driving it.”

Harry shrugged, “I’ve never really liked driving.”

Hermione stared at Harry to an extent where he was getting very uncomfortable. “What?” he finally asked.

“Have you ever taken a holiday?”

“Have I ever what?”

Hermione rolled her eyes, “Taken a holiday, you know, gone away for a few days or week, taken a break from work?”

Harry was shocked, he hadn’t really thought about it, since he had ‘murdered’ Voldemort, Harry had started to live for his work, he didn’t have time for anything else unless it was the occasional fling now and then. Harry looked back on the time since he had been working as an Auror, she was right, he had not taken one holiday, even working during the holidays if he a chance. “No, why?”

“Well that will explain why you don’t like driving, you’re so uptight! Maybe you should consider a holiday, or even golf.”

“Golf?” Harry scoffed.

“Yeah, it’s supposed to be a brilliant way of relieving stress.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

“Suit yourself.”

Harry and Hermione sat in silence for a while, Harry, trying to prepare himself for what he was about to do and Hermione, waiting for him to take her into The Ritz. Hermione could tell Harry was nervous, and it made her wonder if he even knew what he was doing, he looked so uptight that it looked like he was going to be sick any minute “Well?” she finally asked, breaking the silence.

Harry jumped, then took a deep breath, “My raincoat’s in the back. Put it on.”

“Why?” asked Hermione confused and upset. She didn’t think she looked that bad.

“You may feel more comfortable. This is not the place where people walk in less than what they wear to bed.”

“You mean they don’t have hookers?” said Hermione, finally cottoning on.

“Every place has hookers Hermione, but if this hotel has hookers, they don’t broadcast it.”

Hermione looked taken aback “Oh, ok then.” She leaned back and grabbed the trench coat, it was big, brown and had loads of pockets, it had its own belt attached to it and reached down below her knees.

Harry watched as Hermione pulled the coat on over her shoulders and did it up tight, she suddenly felt self-conscience, and she didn’t like it. Hookers didn’t feel self-conscience. “Ready then?” Harry finally asked.

“Are you sure? I mean I look like a hooker in a trench coat!”

“Well you are.”

“You mean you don’t mind me walking in like this?”

Harry looked at Hermione oddly, she was supposed to be a hooker, since when did she really care about her appearance and what other people thought of her?

“Are you sure you’re a hooker?”

Hermione sat back stunned, “Huh?”

Harry smiled, “Lets go then.”

As Harry and Hermione walked into the lobby of The Ritz, Hermione couldn’t help but feel impressed. Everything looked so, so new and clean, very few people were in the lobby, and most people who were, were either checking in or signing out. Most of the men wore, what looked like, expensive business suits and the women wore thick furs and were covered in jewellery. Hermione felt sick as one woman was fluffing up her coat, I bet they never even thought of the animal it used to be. As people started to stare at her Hermione, unconsciously, reached out and grabbed Harry’s hand. Harry started to squeeze her hand comfortingly still confused about the way she was acting and why she seemed so uptight.

Harry guided Hermione across the lobby and called the elevator. As they waited Hermione was still holding Harry’s hand, refusing to let it go. When the elevator finally arrived, Hermione stepped in the elevator and grinned. They had an elevator operator, he was dressed in a clean red uniform that seemed just a bit too tight and a ridiculous looking hat. So ridiculous that Hermione started to silently laugh as Harry again looked at her oddly.

“Evening sir,” greeted the Operator.

“Good evening. Penthouse.” Harry replied.

“Penthouse? My my, you must be rich.” Hermione interrupted smiling. She saw the operator glancing at her and, a bit peeved off that he would stare at her, said, in an authorities manner, “The penthouse! And step on it, we’re paying good money here and it ain’t too stand here all night.”

“Yes m’am.”

Hermione folded her hands looking satisfied as the Operator had the decency to blush as he abruptly turned around and pulled the lever that would take them to the top floor.

Harry and Hermione rode the elevator in silence, Hermione felt a rare feeling of excitement as the elevator finally pinged telling them that they had arrived. Hermione muttered a “thank you,” to the operator as she and Harry passed him. They walked into the corridor that was lined with a red plush carpet and white walls that led to a single doorway. Harry pulled out a swipe card and opened the door, he gestured Hermione to go in first, then quickly followed her and closed the door behind him.