It's Only Pretend by Penelope

Rating: PG13
Genres: Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 5
Published: 12/01/2005
Last Updated: 12/01/2005
Status: Completed

Hermione is a journalist and must go on assignment. The only catch is she has to
"pretend" to be married. Harry agrees to act as her husband. Awkward moments and
misunderstandings ensue. Sweet, fluffy fic.




1. The Initial Shock
--------------------

**IT'S ONLY PRETEND**

**The Initial Shock**

**Chapter One**

*Post-Hogwarts*

Hermione Granger sat behind a large wooden desk piled high with papers, open books, rolled up
bits of parchment, at least ten different quills, empty inkbottles, one empty cup of coffee and a
picture in a silver frame of her, Harry and Ron taken last Christmas. She leaned her head against
her hand in a moment of exhaustion and sighed. Her eyes instinctively closed. She'd been
working too many long days as of late; she was living off strong coffee and cold meals.

The door to her office opened abruptly, slapping against the wall forcefully. She snapped her
head up and tried to look as though she'd been doing anything but resting. Luckily, a quill was
dangling lazily in her right hand.

"Yes?" she asked, feeling her heart slam against her ribs. She was looking up at her
boss.

Norman Stone was a stout barrel-chested wizard with a balding head of thick brown hair. His
mouth was almost always turned into a frown and thick lines of concentration creased across his
forehead. He was much too serious for Hermione--and *that* was saying a lot. A cigar dangled
dangerously from the corner of his mouth.

"Granger, were you sleeping?" he asked, eyeing her.

"No, sir. Absolutely not!" she said indignantly.

"Well, you need to get some. You look like hell," he replied and she rolled her eyes
and muttered, *thanks*.

"What can I help you with?" she asked blandly.

He dropped a huge file on her desk. It thudded against the wood and a few sheets of parchment
fluttered off her desk and to the floor. She eyed the enormous file and looked back up at her boss.
"This," he said, pointing to the folder, "is your new assignment."

"But I haven't even completed the background information you requested for the
unexplained disappearances of cauldrons from the Apothecary in Diagon Alley--" she began,
looking exasperated. How would she ever see the inside of her flat for more than a couple of hours
again?

"I've given that assignment to Carter."

"Carter?!" she asked, standing to her feet in protest. "But...Sir, Carter is
an--"

"--Idiot. Yes, I know, but this assignment is more important. Sit down, Granger. I need my
best journalist on this one, and that's you," he said, pointing at her as she sat back
down.

"Okay," she sighed, "what is it?"

"I need you to go on location for this assignment, Granger. Do you think you can handle
traveling?"

"Traveling, Sir?"

"Yes, believe it or not, but occasionally, witches and wizards take vacations and visit
other places...other than the inside of their offices," he said sarcastically.

*Yes, but that's because they don't have* you *for a boss,* she thought
bitterly. "Go on," she said, opening the folder and flipping through the pages.

"We believe that Morgan's Merchandising is merging with the Seville and Sons
Corporation."

"But that's impossible," Hermione replied, "that would make them some sort of
monopoly, and no one would want to buy Damien Seville's products. Everyone knows he's a
crook, and so are his sons for that matter."

"But if no one knows about the merger then people won't know, will they?" he
asked, leaning over and looking at Hermione closely. She leaned back in her chair. "I'll
need you to go down to Mexico and stay at the Royal Magician's Palace--"
"--You're kidding! That's one of the finest resorts in the world--"

"--I *know*, Granger," he said impatiently. "Like I was saying, I need you
to go down to Mexico, book a room at the Royal Magician's Palace. I've heard from a
reliable source that the heads of these two companies will be vacationing there and discussing the
details of the merger. So I need you there to mix and mingle with the moguls. Get to know them. Get
them to tell you their secrets. Pretend you have lots of money. It will all be charged to the paper
because if you can get this story--we'll have plenty of money when everyone is demanding the
story for print!"

Hermione stared down at the folder and sighed. She looked up at her boss and smiled slowly.
"I don't know what to say." *I'm getting a vacation...to one of the most
beautiful places in the world. I can't believe it.*

"So, you'll do this?"

"Yes, of course," she said, unable to stop smiling. Her exhaustion was momentarily
forgotten.

"Good. Don't screw this up, Granger. You'll be leaving in the morning," he
replied before turning and walking away. When he reached the door he turned back around, "Oh,
I almost forgot. You need to have a spouse to stay at the Royal Magician's Palace. It's for
married couples only."

"What?!" she asked in shock, standing to her feet again. "I'm not
married."

"Pretend, Granger," he said dryly. "Get yourself a *pretend* husband and
take him with you. Don't you have a boyfriend?"

"Well..." she hesitated, "...no."

He threw his hands up in vexation. "What do you *do* all the time, Granger?"

"Work, Sir."

"Well, take...Potter. He's a strapping young man. Aren't you two close?"

"Yes, but--"

"--I don't care *who* you take, Granger. Just be prepared to leave in the
morning," he interrupted and left her office, forgetting to close the door.

"But, Harry's my friend," she said, dropping down into her chair. Suddenly, she
felt incredibly exhausted again.

She was finally offered a story that would take her to an amazing location and she had to
pretend to be *married*? She thought of Ron. She certainly couldn't take him. His
girlfriend would murder her. Then, there was always Harry. She'd talked with him last week and
he hadn't mentioned dating anyone. Would he even agree to such an absurd thing? Surely, she
could convince him that he would be able to take a wonderful vacation, and they *were* best
friends. Wouldn't that make everything less awkward?

She grabbed her things, stood up and pushed her chair back. If she was supposed to leave in the
morning, she had to talk to Harry soon. She didn't even want to think about what she would do
if he said no. Would she drop down on her knees and beg him? She almost laughed at the idea.

With a swish of her wand, she Apparated out of her office and soon found herself standing on her
doorstep. She unlocked the door, stepped inside and dropped her things onto a chair in the living
room. She walked over to her hearth and reached her hand into the jar that held Floo powder.

She tossed it into the flames. Once she was on her knees, she called out Harry's address and
put her head into the warm flames.

"Harry?" she called out, her head hovering strangely in his fireplace.

"Hermione, is that you?" he called from another room. "Where are you? Oh,
*there* you are. What's up?" he asked, bending down near her face.

"Are you busy tonight?" she asked nervously.

"No. Ron and I were going to hang out with a few of the guys, but I can postpone it if you
need something. Is everything okay?" he asked, noticing how tired and strained her face
looked.

"If you don't mind, could you come over around seven tonight? There are a few things I
want to talk with you about."

"Oh, sure. Is everything okay?" he asked again.

"Yeah," she said unconvincingly. "So, I'll see you in a few hours?"

"Okay."

"Bye Harry," she called and before he could reply, Hermione was gone.

He rocked back on his heels and frowned. Something was definitely wrong with Hermione, but he
would find out soon enough.



2. The Proposal
---------------

**IT'S ONLY PRETEND**

**The Proposal**

**Chapter Two**

Hermione had a suitcase opened up in the center of her living room floor. She was tossing
articles of clothing out of her bedroom; they were landing *near* the suitcase. It looked as
though a strange type of tornado had blown through the house, strewing clothes everywhere.

A teapot on the kitchen stove was whistling loudly, but it had been whistling for the past ten
minutes. She had already become so accustomed to the noise that she didn't even notice it
anymore. The neighbors however were probably growing annoyed.

The Wizard Wireless was playing in the living room. A fast paced song blared and only caused
Hermione to speed up her packing--if she continued at that pace she would soon pass out from sheer
fatigue. But she couldn't stop. She had too much to do.

She felt harried and exhausted. How would she ever get everything together before tomorrow
morning? What kind of human would think she could get everything she needed for such a long
vacation in a single day--not *even* a day? In her fatigued state, she wasn't even using
magic...a sure sign she was practically out of it.

When the bottom half of her flannel pyjamas flew out of her bedroom a voice boomed out of the
fireplace.

*"Harry Potter is accessing your Floo Network. Is this acceptable?"*

"Yes!" Hermione yelled from her bedroom.

With a great *wooshing* noise, Hermione heard Harry enter her fireplace.

"I *hate* your security clearance," she heard him call from the living room.
"It leaves me hanging around in *Flooland*, and it always makes me feel like my head is
unattached from my body while I wait for you to clear me--" She heard him pause and she walked
out of her bedroom with a hairbrush in her hand and a towel hanging on her arm. "Are you going
somewhere?" he asked, looking around and seeing the huge mess in her living room for the first
time.

"Ummm...yeah," she said hesitantly.

"Is everything okay?" he asked while peering into the kitchen, looking for the cause
of the high pitched noise. He lifted the teapot up and turned off the stove.

She sighed and dropped down on the couch, finally letting her exhaustion take hold of her.
"No."

He walked over to the couch and made to sit down next to her. He grinned and blushed slightly as
he used his wand to slide a black bra off the cushion. She grabbed for it quickly and flushed with
embarrassment, stuffing it beneath her and sitting on it.

He sat down beside her, smiling easily. "What's going on?"

"Well, it's work."

"Did you get fired?" he asked quickly.

"Of *course* not," she replied indignantly.

"Then what's going on. It looks like your closet threw up in here."

Hermione rolled her eyes and leaned forward on her elbows. "I have to go out of town on an
assignment."

"Really? I'm amazed your boss actually let you leave the office," Harry said
playfully. This time he stood up and walked across the room to the Wizard Wireless. He turned down
the volume. Then, he carefully maneuvered back to the couch, trying not to step on the many items
that were seemingly everywhere.

"Well, this is a really important assignment," she said, and realizing she
couldn't hold out any longer, she blurted, "and would you like to go?"

"Go where?" he asked, looking at her in confusion as he sat down.

"Would you like to take the trip with me?"

"What? Are you serious?" he asked as he laughed lightly.

Hermione's voice took on a pleading tone. "Yes, I'm very serious. It's going to
be a *great* vacation. It's down in Mexico and we'd be staying at the Royal
Magician's Palace...and I can't go alone," she added quietly.

"Why not? Is it dangerous?" he asked, and she could see the concern in his eyes.

"Not really," she admitted. "In fact, I highly doubt it will be dangerous at
all."

"Then why do you want me to go?"

"Wouldn't you like a vacation?" she asked, avoiding the truth.

"Well...yeah."

"So you'll go?" she asked.

"I suppose I could shift a few things around. When are you leaving?"

"In the morning."

"In the morning? Hermione, that's really short notice."

"I know."

"How long would we be gone?"

"A couple of weeks."

"A couple of weeks?"

"Yes," she replied, exasperated.

"Now don't get all irritated with me. This *is* last minute, you know."

"Yes, I know."

"So, let me get this straight. You are going on an assignment in Mexico, and you'll be
there for a couple of weeks and you want me to go...for the company?"

"Yes..." she hesitated, "...but..."

"But what?" Harry asked as he eyed her carefully. "What are you not telling me,
Hermione? I know that look on your face."

"It's...well...it's just that the Royal Magician's palace is for married
couples *only*."

Harry looked at her with an expression of complete confusion on his face. She would have laughed
at him had she not been so tired.

"I don't understand."

"Ugh...Harry, *think* about it." And when his expression didn't change she
added, "I need you to *pretend* to be my husband."

"Really?" He looked on the verge of laughing.

"Yes, *really*."

"Hermione," he said playfully, "I didn't know you felt that way."

She dropped her head back onto the couch and groaned. "Harry."

"Is that all? You need me to pretend to be your husband for a few weeks, and I get a free
vacation?"

Hermione lifted her head up and glanced at Harry. Her face looked tired and dark circles
shadowed beneath her eyes. "That's all."

Harry shrugged. "Sounds okay to me. Should I go out and buy you a ring?"

Hermione laughed wearily. "Yes, definitely. I would like the diamond to be extra
large."

"One extra large diamond ring coming up." Harry pulled out his wand and pointed it at
a knut lying on the coffee table. After a moment and a few murmured spells, the knut was no more,
and in its place was a lovely diamond ring. "There you are milady," he said
melodramatically. He slid off the couch and knelt down in front of her. "Will you be
mine?"

"Harry," she laughed, "stop it. I'm too tired."

"You're too tired to say yes?" he asked, feigning disappointment.

Hermione held out her hand and Harry slipped the ring on her finger, winking at her.
"It's beautiful. Just what I always wanted, a fake diamond."

Harry sat back on the couch beside her. "Seriously though Hermione, why don't you get
some rest. I can get the rest of the stuff together. It looks like your entire wardrobe is out
here. I can magic everything into your suitcase if you like. I would never have imagined *you*
packed in such a manner."

"I don't," she said in her defense, "but everything is so crazy."

"Yeah," he said in mock seriousness, "what will Ron say when I tell him we've
gotten married?"

She smiled sleepily as she yawned and leaned her head against his shoulder. "Thanks, Harry.
I really owe you one for this."

"Nah. You're taking me on a free vacation, and all I have to do is pretend to be your
husband. How hard can that be?"

"We might have to hold hands," she said drowsily.

"I won't tell anyone," he whispered playfully. He could feel Hermione's weight
leaning against his shoulder. She was overworked and too tired to keep her eyes open any
longer.

"Good. They wouldn't believe it anyway," she said before yawning again.

Harry laughed quietly. "You're probably right." He eased off the couch and placed
Hermione's head against a pillow. "I'll get all of this stuff together and then head
back to my place and pack--"

"--oh, you'll need to bring all your nice things. We're supposed to be rich,"
she mumbled.

Harry knelt down beside the couch, and Hermione opened her eyes briefly. He winked at her and
whispered, "I *am* rich, Hermione. Hey, is *that* why you're marrying me? For my
money?"

Hermione closed her eyes and smiled, chuckling sleepily. "Of course not," she said
quietly, "I'm marrying you for your wicked Divination knowledge."

"Figures. You women are all the same. Find out a chap has money and you throw yourselves at
him," Harry said, standing up and smiling down at her.

"Yeah," she said sarcastically, "I've always *thrown* myself at you,
Harry Potter. You can spot my advances a mile away."

He grinned a crooked smile and pulled his wand up. He flicked it around and Hermione's
belongings lifted into the air and began packing themselves neatly into her open suitcase.

"Okay, I'm going to run home. Could you give me the password to your network? You can
change it later so you don't have to worry about me breaking into your place and reading all
your books without asking."

Hermione laughed again. "I'm trying to get some rest here, Potter." She cracked an
eye open and reached up her hand to his. He put his hand out and grabbed hers. "It's
*Narnia*."

"Narnia?" Harry asked, shaking his head. "I haven't read those books in ages.
Good choice though...shame you'll have to change it. But, okay, I'll be back soon." He
placed her hand back down on the couch beside her.

"Thanks Harry," she murmured.

He smiled at her before disappearing in a great *woosh* and roaring of flames from her
fireplace. She fell asleep immediately. It wasn't even eight o'clock, but she couldn't
remember the last time she'd been in her own flat before midnight. She relished the feeling and
didn't feel the least bit guilty for falling asleep while Harry did the rest of the
packing.



3. The Arrival
--------------

**IT'S ONLY PRETEND**

**The Arrival**

**Chapter Three**

Hermione was wiggling around with one arm stretched behind her back and the other holding the
bottom of her sundress as she tried to pull up the zipper. She felt completely refreshed from her
long night of sleeping, but she still felt slightly anxious, not wanting to forget anything on her
trip.

She'd applied a bit of makeup to her face and tried as best she could to fix her hair in a
fashion she felt sure would measure up to the wealthier circles of witches and wizards. She
didn't understand why she felt so nervous. She knew she could pretend to be wealthy. She could
pretend the people she had to mingle with were the wittiest, most amazing people she'd ever
known. She could pretend lots of things, but the pit of her stomach was in knots and full of
lead.

Without warning, a burst of green flames filled the fireplace and Harry stepped out. She called
to him from the bedroom.

"I'm almost ready!"

"Well, speed it up with you?" he said in a voice she knew was anything but serious.
"I've got a vacation to start."

"I need a bit of help--" She stopped talking as she stepped into the living room.

Harry was leaning over the coffee table and looking at the huge folder her boss had given her
the day before. She took a quick look at his attire. He was wearing Muggle khakis and a black
button up shirt. She was immediately struck by how handsome he looked. When he glanced up and
caught her eye, his facial expression looked unsure.

"What?" he asked as he placed a hand on top of his unruly black hair.

"It's nothing," she replied quickly.

"Wow, Hermione, you look great. I don't think I've ever seen you in a dress...that
short."

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, stop it. But speaking of my dress, could you please zip me
up?" She turned her back to him, and Harry walked casually over.

"Is this practice for our marriage? Trying to prepare me for our big pretend?" He
pushed her hair over her shoulder and zipped up her dress easily.

She could hear the smile in his voice, and she laughed. "Yes, exactly. Thanks." She
turned around and patted his chest. "You look very nice, Mr. Potter."

"As do you, Mrs. Potter." The words came out of his mouth, and they both stared at
each other awkwardly before laughing.

"We'll have to change our names of course," she said, lifting the folder from the
coffee table and shoving it down into one of her bags. "Any ideas?"

"Hmmm...let me think on it. We'll need a regal name...something that commands respect
and demands power--"

"--are you quite finished?" she asked playfully, zipping up a small black bag.

Harry grinned. "I could be Jonathan Parker."

"And you think *that's* a regal name?" she asked, raising her eyebrows and
smiling.

"Not really. But it's simple and won't draw attention."

Hermione nodded. "You're right. Let's see...if you're Jonathan Parker then I
shall be Julianna Parker."

"That's nice," he said, nodding. "I call you Juli sometimes." He winked,
and Hermione laughed.

"As long as you don't call me Hermione, we'll be okay." She glanced around the
room and began putting their luggage into a pile. "Do we have everything?"

"If we bring any more they'll probably charge us an extra person fee."

"Harry," she scolded.

"What?" he asked innocently.

"Let's see. We'll need to put all of our luggage into the hearth. It'll Floo
there ahead of us. Then we'll follow. Make sense?"

"Crystal clear, Mrs. Parker." When Hermione rolled her eyes, Harry laughed.
"I'm trying to practice."

"Oh, did you get a ring?" she asked, noticing his wedding band finger was bare.

"Of course, but I almost forgot." He pulled two shiny silver rings out of his pocket.
One was much smaller than the other. "This one, I do believe, is yours."

Hermione reached out and slipped it on her finger beside her diamond ring and watched Harry put
his on. "Feels weird, huh?"

"Yeah," he said, spinning it around. "Not really used to having something on my
finger. But we're newlyweds, so I suppose I'll get used to it."

"Oh, that reminds me," she said, reaching down and unzipping her bag. She pulled out a
sheet of parchment and handed it to Harry.

"What's this?"

"Our history."

He looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "Our history?" His eyes scanned the parchment,
and he smiled slowly. "You've covered everything, haven't you?"

"It was necessary. I can't very well have you babbling over answers if someone were to
question us. We need to have the same answers, don't you think?"

"Of course. I just highly doubt someone would ask me what type of flowers you had at your
wedding."

"*Our* wedding, and you never know, Harry."

"That's Jonathan to you missy."

Hermione laughed. "*Jonathan*. Excuse the mistake."

"So you like lilies, huh?"

Hermione nodded as she walked into the kitchen to make sure nothing was left on or running.

"And your favorite color is lavender? What's mine?"

"Green," she called back to him.

"How is it you know things about me and I don't know any of the answers to these
questions about you?"

"I pay better attention," she said, smirking at him as she began pulling their luggage
into the hearth.

"That's true. I better study up before we start getting bombarded with intimate
questions about our new lives."

"Yes, you'd better. I don't want people thinking I've married an
imbecile."

"They're going to think you married the most charming man in the world," he said
playfully.

"Oh, they are?"

"I shall be the best pretend husband you ever have," he said, puffing his chest up and
acting silly.

Hermione laughed again. "I hope you're the *only* pretend husband I ever have. I
don't want to make a habit out of pretend husbands. You understand."

"Yes, of course," he said solemnly before smiling and helping Hermione with the
luggage. "I won't disappoint you," he laughed.

"You never have," she said, puffing as she dropped the last bit of luggage onto the
stack. "I think that's it. Grab some Floo powder and we'll send it on."

"Okay," Harry said as he reached his hand into the container holding the shiny powder.
He threw it onto the luggage and shouted, "The Royal Magician's Palace, Mexico!"

In a flash of swirling green flames, the luggage lit up brightly before disappearing.

"Excellent," Hermione said as she stepped into the hearth.

Harry filled his hand up again and stepped in beside her. "Are you ready, Mrs.
Parker?"

"Absolutely, Mr. Parker."

Harry smiled down at her and put an arm around her waist. He threw the Floo powder and shouted
their destination. In a split second, the warm flames engulfed them and they disappeared from
Hermione's flat.

* * * *

When they reappeared, they were standing inside a massive hearth. Hermione gasped as she looked
around. She stepped out and dropped her mouth open as she stood in the foyer of the Royal
Magician's Palace. It was definitely the grandest place she'd ever seen.

"Buenos dias!" a young man, dressed in flowing deep blue robes, said as he stood
before them.

"Good morning," Hermione said, still gaping around in amazement. She brushed off her
sundress slowly.

"Need or have reservations?" he asked in a friendly manner, his voice heavily
accented.

"Uh, yes. We're the Parkers," Harry said as soon as he realized that Hermione
wasn't going to answer.

"Follow me," the young wizard replied, and Harry grabbed Hermione by the arm.

"Honey, we're rich, remember? We see places like this all the time," Harry
whispered as he slipped his arm around her shoulders.

She closed her mouth and glanced up at him. "You're right. I'll wait until we get
into our room and jump up and down on the bed and scream in delight," she whispered back, not
hiding the excitement in her eyes.

"Sounds like a great idea."

They walked across the tiled foyer. The ceiling of the room was enchanted and full of shooting
stars and rotating planets. The dominating colors were deep blues and sparking golds. Hermione was
almost too overwhelmed to focus.

The young wizard led them to a counter and stopped. "Marguerite will check you into your
room. Have a pleasant stay."

"Thank you," Hermione said, smiling as he walked away.

"Buenos dias. Bienvenidos to the Royal Magician's Palace. Your name, por
favor."

"Buenos dias--" Hermione began but Harry interrupted her.

"Let me, honey. I've been practicing," he said with so much confidence that she
took a step back.

"Oh."

Harry looked at the young witch behind the counter and flashed a brilliant smile. "Buenos
dias, Marguerite. Mi numbre es Jonathan Parker. Yo estoy insatisfactorio y muy perdido--"

The witch behind the counter looked thoroughly confused, and Hermione burst out laughing. She
cleared her throat and shoved Harry behind her.

"I'm sorry. He's only joking with you," she said apologetically. She turned to
Harry and whispered, "What are you *doing*?"

"I was speaking Spanish," he said innocently. "Fred taught me a few
phrases."

Hermione's mouth dropped open. "Fred?! And you trusted that they were *okay* to
use in public? Are you crazy?" She huffed loudly before turning around and looking at the
witch. "Again, I apologize. His Spanish is very poor."

The witch smiled and nodded. "That's okay."

"We're the Parkers. We would like to book a stay here please."

The young witch flipped her long black hair over her shoulder and moved her fingers across a
strange blinking keyboard of sorts. The individual keys shifted and flashed constantly. Hermione
looked back at Harry, and he mouthed, *"I'm sorry."* She laughed at the pitiful
look on his face, and touched his arm to let him know she wasn't angry.

"For how long, Mrs. Parker?"

"Two weeks, please."

"Very good. You will enjoy your time here." She clicked the moving keys again.
"We have a room with a view of the pool. It is a honeymoon suite...one king size
bed--"

"--Oh, we need two beds if possible," Hermione said immediately without thinking.

The witch frowned. "*Two* beds?" she asked in confusion.

Harry stepped up and put his arm around Hermione, pulling her into him and forcing out a laugh.
"She's joking with you. One bed is all we need, isn't that right, sweetheart?" he
asked, kissing her forehead. Hermione froze up in his arms before relaxing, realizing Harry was
doing a better job of "pretend" than she was.

"Oh, of course. I keep forgetting we're *alone*," she said in a strangled
voice.

"Yes, we're so accustomed to traveling with our best friends. They're married, too,
of course, and we go almost everywhere with them. But this trip is just for us," Harry said,
elaborating on their fake history.

The young witch nodded before standing up and walking over to a board filled with keys.
"This will be the key to your room. It's on the fifth floor. Antonio will take you up
there and bring in your luggage. Please let us know if you have any questions. We hope you enjoy
your stay."

"Thank you," Harry said, reaching for the key. He passed it to Hermione, who he knew
would feel more comfortable if she was in charge of keeping it.

Hermione and Harry followed Antonio up a lift and to the fifth floor where he led them to their
room. Hermione opened the door and walked inside, clasping her hands together near her chest and
gasping.

"This is *beau*tiful," she exclaimed.

"This is a very popular suite among our guests," Antonio replied with a smile as he
levitated their luggage into the enormous room.

Harry pulled some coins out of his pocket and gave them to Antonio as he thanked him for his
help. When they were completely alone, Hermione ran and jumped on the bed, giggling. Harry watched
her in amazement.

"Hermione, I didn't realize you were so girly," he said, grinning.

She was sprawled out on her back with her arms spread wide open on the bed. She propped her head
up and smiled happily. "Don't tell anyone."

Harry pretended to zip his lips with his fingers. "It's our little secret." He
walked over and sat on the edge of the bed. "This place is amazing."

Hermione sat up and looked around at the honeymoon suite. There was an additional seating area;
a Jacuzzi-type tub was nestled in a corner across the room from them, which she immediately pointed
at. "Oh my gosh. Would you look at that?"

"It's a tub...and it's not in the bathroom," Harry said playfully. "Kinda
kinky if you ask me."

Hermione blushed, "Harry."

"What?" he laughed. He leaned back on his elbows on the bed. "I wish Ron were
here. I'd love to see his face."

Hermione looked over at Harry with a serious expression. "Harry?"

"Yeah?" he asked, leaning back and looking at her.

"I'm sorry about there only being one bed," she spoke quietly.

"Nah, don't worry about it. I can sleep on the couch."

"That's nonsense. This bed is gigantic. There's plenty of room for at least four
people," she said matter-of-factly.

"Oh?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "Are we *that* type of married
couple?"

"What do you mean?"

"We can bring home other people?"

"Absolutely not!" she huffed, and then proceeded to laugh.

"Could have made for some interesting nights," he teased.

"*Harry Potter*!" she said blushing as Harry laughed at her. He reached out and
patted her leg.

"I'm only kidding. And call me Jonathan. You need to practice it. I can't have you
calling me Harry Potter in public. Think of the shame," he said, winking.

"Think of the drooling witches I'd have to beat off," she said sarcastically.
"This *is* a vacation, after all."

Harry flipped over on his stomach and looked at Hermione. "This is going to be easy, Mrs.
Parker. We're going to have a great time and you're going to have to do all the work. While
you're getting your story, and I know you will, I'll be lounging by the pool, drinking
daiquiris, and pretending to be your husband. I have the easy part."

Hermione leaned back and closed her eyes. She sighed before saying, "I can't believe
I'm on vacation in Mexico at the most expensive resort in the world."
"And let's not forget you're shacking up with a wickedly handsome wizard. Whatever
would your mother say?" Harry asked, and Hermione giggled again, clearly knowing what look he
had on his face without even opening her eyes.

"She'd say, 'It's about time, my dear. Your father and I were beginning to
wonder if you'd ever be interested in boys.'"

Harry laughed. "Well you sure know how to jump into things. Never mind the dating part, you
go straight for marriage. And may I say what a fine choice you've made."

"Yes, I must say I've *always* been attracted to the Quidditch-loving,
homework-hating, quite-full-of-himself, slacker type of men--"

"--Hey now!" Harry interrupted her defensively.

Hermione laughed and opened her eyes. Harry was pretending to be hurt, but the twinkle in his
green eyes revealed otherwise. "Oh, and I'm *sure* you've always been attracted
to the bookworm, library-loving, Quidditch-ignoring, overachieving type of women."

"You never know. It's possible," he answered, grinning widely.

She laughed again. "Sure you have, *Jonathan*. But you forget, I know you better than
that."

"Well, *Juli*, I suppose I should be studying up on who you *really* are a bit
before we're seen in public together. It wouldn't do either of us any good if I can't
remember that we were married in a small church on the top of a bluff overlooking the ocean in a
tiny town in Ireland--"

"--are you making fun of my choices?" she asked, frowning.

"Not at all. I was merely saying, I'll need to know all of these things. It sounds like
a splendid spot for a wedding--"

Hermione lifted a pillow from the top of the bed and smacked Harry over the head with it,
stopping him from finishing. "Your sarcasm will get you nowhere, Mr. Parker," she said,
sounding a bit like Professor McGonagall.

"I was being serious," he said, lifting the pillow from his face and looking at
Hermione with sad eyes.

She narrowed her gaze at him and shook her head. "I don't believe you for a
second."

"This isn't a healthy marriage, is it?" he asked laughing.

Hermione smiled at him and slid off the bed. She walked over to the windows leading to the
balcony and turned around, a smirk on her face. "They do say the first year of marriage is the
hardest."

"Oh boy," he said, pretending to be serious.

She opened the balcony doors and a warm breeze rushed in. It blew across her cheeks, and she
breathed it in. "Oh, this is going to be wonderful." Her voice was quiet and relaxed.

Harry watched her and smiled, knowing this vacation for Hermione was long overdue. She'd
needed to get away, and he had no doubt they were going to enjoy themselves relaxing and probing
into the lives of wealthy businessmen.

"Do you want to go down to the pool?" she asked, turning around and smiling at
Harry.

"Do you even have to ask?!" he answered, jumping off the bed.

"Great! Let the game of pretend start!" she said conspiratorially as she began looking
through her suitcase.

She knew they would get dressed, head down to the pool, and she would be able to start her work.
And she was incredibly thankful that she was here with Harry--there would be no added stress
because everything was simple and easy with him. Pretending to be married to Harry, she knew, was
going to be one of the easiest things she'd have to do this entire trip. He wouldn't be a
distraction; he would be an ally, and it made her smile to think about it.



4. Meeting and Mingling
-----------------------

**IT'S ONLY PRETEND**

**Meeting and Mingling**

**Chapter Four**

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Should I wear a shirt downstairs?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Are you nervous?" he asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Nothing," she said shortly.

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

"It's nothing Harry."

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

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

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

"Stop it, Harry."

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

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

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

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

"Wow," Hermione murmured.

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

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

* * * *

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Who?"

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

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

* * * *

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

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

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

"Good afternoon," Harry said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I don't know," he said.

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

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



5. Dinner and a Dress
---------------------

**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
every*one* 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.



6. First Impressions
--------------------

**IT'S ONLY PRETEND**

**First Impressions**

**Chapter Six**

Harry gave Hermione's arm a light squeeze as they stepped off the lift and walked toward The
Magician's Table. The restaurant was located down a long hallway and down a large spiraling
staircase. Two wizards in elaborate robes stood on either side of the large golden doors. When
Harry and Hermione approached, they opened the doors wide and greeted them.

Hermione tried not to look amazed as they stepped into the restaurant, but it took all she had.
It was opulent and decorated with deep shades of color--dark blue walls with silver stars sparkling
and shifting within the paint, deep mahogany wood floors, table clothes lined in rich crimson,
pewter table settings and candelabras. The entire room flickered with soft candlelight; a grand
piano in the corner was magicked to play soothing music that floated through the room. She glanced
up at the ceiling, and like the entrance foyer, it was alive with planets and constellations. She
couldn't help but smile.

"This way please," a wizard said, and Harry and Hermione followed him to their table.
"You are meeting the Morgans, no?" he asked.

"Yes," Hermione said as she thanked the wizard for pulling out her chair.

"They will be here shortly."

"Thank you," Harry said.

As Hermione sat down, she turned her gaze back up toward the ceiling. Upon seeing her enjoyment
the wizard leaned down close to her.

"You are from London, no?" he asked.

"Well, yes. Just outside of the city," she answered.

"Very good." The wizard then pulled out his wand and waved it up at the section of
ceiling above their table. The stars swirled and moved around quickly, rearranging and forming
different sets of constellations. Hermione gasped quietly. The wizard looked back down at her and
smiled. "The sky where you live, no?"

"Yes. It's wonderful."

"We do what we can," he said, smiling kindly at her. "This way you can have a bit
of your home while still having your vacation." He nodded at her and Harry. "Your waiter
will be with you momentarily."

"Thank you," she said as he walked away. "This place is amazing."

"Definitely one of the coolest restaurants I've ever been inside," he agreed.

Within a few minutes, the Morgans, Nathan and Cynthia, arrived. Harry and Hermione stood up to
greet them.

"Good evening," Nathan Morgan said, extending his hand to Harry. Nathan Morgan was a
tall man with broad shoulders and thick chest. His hair was completely white, but his eyes were
still quick and bright. His mouth was a thin wide line that smiled easily to reveal straight teeth.
Harry noted his handshake was firm.

"Evening, Mr. Morgan. I'm Jonathan Parker and this is my wife Julianna."

Nathan smiled at Hermione. "Pleased to meet you Mrs. Parker. That is a lovely dress
you're wearing."

"It surely is. You look beautiful, dear," his wife added.

"Oh, thank you. Jonathan bought it for me," she blushed, "and you can call me
Julianna," she said sweetly.

"This is my wife Cynthia."

After their initial hellos the group sat down at the table, and when the waiter arrived, Nathan
ordered a bottle of Wizards Chianti and they settled into easy conversation.

"Your husband tells you're the cleverest witch I'll ever meet," Cynthia began,
and Hermione immediately looked at Harry and blushed, "so what do you do with your
cleverness?"

"Well, my husband and I own and bookshop. We sell books, of course, and different brands of
quills, ink...those sorts of things," Hermione answered.

"She's a real wiz," Harry added happily. "She's always coming up with new
product ideas to sell. Right now she's creating this new type of quill. It's a bit like the
Quick Notes Quill, but without all the deception. It's much better than that green menace of a
quill."

"Really?" Nathan said, his eyebrows rising in interest. "You are somewhat of an
inventor then?"

"Oh, yes," Harry answered for her, "she's the brains behind our business for
sure. Her ideas are spot on. She's released some prototypes already of some of her creations.
There is a bookmark that remembers how long it's been in same spot--for example, if you've
stopped reading the book for too long, the bookmark remembers, and the next time you open the book,
it catches you up on what's already happened. That way you don't have to reread the book.
Or the artist's quill. That's a brilliant one. It's a quill designed for one specific
person. It's like choosing a wand, I suppose you could say. It's going to be a great help
in the world of law enforcement. The owner merely has to describe something in their own words and
the quill can sketch it out perfectly. It sounds confusing probably, but it's amazing. It's
like it can see into your mind and recall pictures from your memory. I remember the first time she
showed it to me--"

"--Jonathan," Hermione said, catching Harry's eye and giving him "the
look". Harry *was* playing the part very well, but the trouble was, he was being
*too* honest. Hermione actually *had* been working on such inventions, and while she was
hesitant to believe they were *amazing*, she didn't want Harry talking about too much.

"I'm sorry. I apologize," he said, looking at Hermione and then at the Morgans.
"I got carried away. I'm just really proud of her abilities."

Cynthia reached across the table and touched Hermione's hand. "Don't be modest,
dear. It's obvious that Jonathan believes in your ideas and to be perfectly honest, Nathan here
is a bit of an inventor as well. I'm sure he'd love to hear about your ideas."

"Oh, well...I..." she stuttered, thankful she didn't have to finish because the
waiter arrived with the bottle of wine.

The four lifted their glasses and toasted to new ideas and new friendships. By the end of the
meal, Hermione felt confident that she and Harry were making friends with the Morgans and if things
kept going as smoothly, she knew she'd get the information she needed.

She finished her glass of wine, and her mind and body felt warm and content. Nathan was
beginning to tell a story about a book he tried to charm once when they were interrupted by a tall
lithe woman with long chestnut hair. Hermione recognized her immediately. She was the woman she and
Harry had ridden the lift with earlier in the day.

"Nathan. Cynthia. How are you both doing?" the woman asked; her voice was saccharine
and rang of falsity.

"Oh, Victoria, how good to see you," Cynthia said as Victoria kissed her cheek.
Hermione watched the women closely and it was all too evident that their kind words were not rooted
in sincerity.

"Evening, Victoria," Nathan said. "These are our friends Jonathan and Julianna
Parker."

"Oh?" Victoria said, turning her attention to Harry. She walked over to him and placed
a hand on his shoulder. "You look so familiar. Have we met before?" she purred as she
leaned over near his ear.

"We saw you on the lift this morning," Hermione said flatly.

Victoria looked up at Hermione and smiled sweetly. "Oh, that's right. The pool was
wonderful, wasn't it?" Victoria asked, but it was obvious she was talking only to
Harry.

"Yeah," Harry said, shifting uncomfortably. Without thinking, he reached out and
placed his hand on Hermione's. "It was beautiful, wasn't it, Juli?"

Hermione, playing along, leaned over and kissed his cheek. "It was. This vacation for us
was a *wonderful* idea."

Victoria, feeling neglected, lifted her hand from Harry's shoulder and stepped back.
"Well, I'm meeting Victor for dinner. So, good to see you both," she replied, looking
at Nathan and Cynthia. "Jonathan and Judy, was it? Good to meet you. I'm sure we'll
see you tomorrow night for cards, right?" she asked, looking at Nathan.

"Of course," Nathan said, forcing a smile as Victoria walked away.

"Merlin, that woman is a snake," Cynthia mumbled.

"Now, dear. Let's not be unkind."

"You're right. Pardon me," Cynthia said, glancing at Harry and Hermione.
"She's married to a business associate of my husband's. Otherwise, I'd feel free
to tell you that I think she's a snake--"

"--Cynthia," Nathan said sternly.

Hermione couldn't help but laugh. "Really, it's okay. Some people *are* very
hard to like...especially when nothing they say is genuine," Hermione said boldly.

"Exactly," Cynthia agreed. "I can see that you and I will get along fabulously. I
always like an honest woman. You should join us for cards tomorrow night. It's a game Nathan
created. Lots of loud fun and laughter. Of course we play with the Sevilles--"

"--the Sevilles?" Hermione asked, but she already knew who they were.

"Oh, yes. Business acquaintances of my husbands. It's Damien Seville, his wife and his
two children and their spouses. You've just met Victoria. She's married to Damien's
oldest son, Victor."

"Victor is married to Victoria?" Harry asked, laughing quietly.

"Yes," Cynthia said, laughing too. "I always said that his brain only had enough
room for so much information so he needed to marry a woman with practically the same name so he
could remember--"

"--Cynthia," Nathan scolded again and she laughed.

"Oh, Nathan. It's funny. You know it is," she replied and he smiled at her as she
patted his hand.

"We'd love to play cards tomorrow night," Hermione said, smiling at Harry and then
at the Morgans.

"Great!" Cynthia said. "We should start around seven tomorrow night. And we play
in the Sorcerer's Lounge on the seventh floor."

The conversation continued for a few more minutes before they said goodnight and headed back to
their rooms. Once Harry and Hermione were on the lift together and they were alone, she chatted
excitedly about the following night. She just *knew* she was going to have success with
finding the information she needed.

When they were settling into bed, Hermione crawled in on the left side and switched on the
bedside lamp. She had full intentions of reading for a little while before going to sleep, but her
eyes were already too heavy.

"Goodness. The wine must have gotten to me. I feel exhausted," she said, closing her
book and turning off the lamp.

"It's been a long day." Harry turned off the lights in the room, and Hermione felt
him slide under the sheets on the right side of the bed. "You really did look beautiful
tonight," Harry said quietly and he felt Hermione turn over in the darkness and face him. He
thought he heard her smile.

"Thanks handsome," she said and her voice was sleepy and playful. "Goodnight
Harry."

"Night," he answered.

A few minutes of silence passed by and Harry was almost sure she was sleeping, but she surprised
him when she spoke up again.

"Do you really think my ideas are brilliant?" she asked.

"Absolutely. But you should know that. I told you when you showed them all to me."

"I know, but I thought perhaps you were just being nice. You know, the supportive friend
bit."

"I was being honest."

A few seconds of silenced slipped by. "Well, thank you. It means a lot to me," she
said quietly.
"You're welcome," he answered as Hermione rolled over. He lay for a long time in the
darkness, unable to fall asleep and unable to stop thinking about Hermione. It felt odd to think of
her the way his mind wanted to, and yet, it felt completely *right*. When she shifted in the
dark and slid closer to him, he couldn't help but lean into her body and settle in close to her
warmth. He tried to tell himself over and over again that everything around him was *only
pretend*, but he wasn't so sure.



7. Kiss Me for Luck
-------------------

**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.



8. Digging for the Truth
------------------------

**IT'S ONLY PRETEND**

**Digging for the Truth**

**Chapter Eight**

When Harry and Hermione returned from breakfast the following morning, a note had been slid
beneath the door. Hermione grunted as she leaned over and picked it up.

"From the Morgans?" he asked, walking across the room and sitting on the edge of the
bed.

Hermione frowned as she slid her finger beneath the fold on the sealed envelope and popped it
open. She pulled the letter out and rolled her eyes.

"The Sevilles?" he asked as he watched the emotions change on her face. She looked
annoyed.

"No. It's from Norman," she sighed.

"Who?" he asked, briefly wondering why the name sounded so familiar.

"Norman Stone. My boss," she replied as she perused the letter. "He wants to know
how the investigation is going and wants to make sure I'm not wasting the company's money
on frivolous activities."

"Like getting sloshed in the lounge while playing a mean game of cards?" Harry asked
playfully.

She shook her head dismissively. "What should I tell him?" she asked, looking up at
him and dangling the letter in her hand.

"Tell him the investigation is going according to plan. You *have* been gathering
information--"
"--*and* getting sloshed while playing a mean game of cards," she said, finally
smiling at him.

He patted the bed beside him, and she walked over to sit down. "Oh, no worries. That's
all part of our *pretend* identities."

"Is it?" she asked, raising an eyebrow teasingly.

"Of course."

She sighed and placed the letter on the bed beside her. She tried not to worry about what the
outcome of this investigation would be--on her business life *or* her personal life. Then she
looked over at him seriously. "Don't you ever worry about anything, Harry?"

His smile faded, and he glanced down at the floor before answering. "I spent the majority
of my life worrying, Hermione. I didn't have a choice. Now...now I don't *have* to
worry about someone constantly trying to kill me *or* my friends--"

"--I know. I was there with you." She patted his leg with her hand in an affectionate
manner.

He placed his hand on top of hers and met her gaze, squeezing her hand lightly. "Every step
of the way." And he grinned.

"Just as I should have I been," she answered, smiling back at him.

"Just where I wanted you to be," he replied honestly and suddenly, Hermione's
stomach began somersaulting relentlessly.

For a painfully long, exhilarating second Hermione felt sure Harry was going to kiss her. His
body was leaning towards her, and she wasn't going to stop him. But the sound of a note sliding
beneath the door had them both turning their heads.

Hermione heard Harry sigh before he said, "Probably a note about today's
plans."

"Yeah," she said, not wanting to stand up but doing so anyway.

She walked over and picked up the folded note. She opened it and nodded at Harry.

"It's from the Morgans. You're supposed to meet the men at ten in the
Gentlemen's Quarters on the sixth floor. I'm meeting the woman at the spa located just off
from the lobby. Oh joy, I can hardly wait," she said sarcastically, tossing the letter towards
Harry.

"You never know, you might have a good time...getting pampered and such," he said,
looking over the letter.

"Possibly. Don't forget to pay close attention to what the Sevilles talk about,"
Hermione said as she checked her reflection in the mirror.

"Don't worry, wifey, I'll be the perfect little spy for you," he said, winking
and she couldn't help but laugh.

"Wifey?" she asked.

Harry shrugged. "Kind of unique, don't you think?"

"Sure," she said teasingly. "What kind of cute pet name can I call
*you*?" Hermione ran her fingers through her hair, trying to straighten out the unruly
pieces as she looked in the mirror.

"Lover?" he asked cautiously, and Hermione's hand movements stopped
immediately.

"What?" she squeaked.

Then, Harry grinned at her. "Don't look so pale. It was a joke," he said as he
stood up and walked into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

She waited until he was gone to release the breath she'd been holding.

*Lover?* she thought, trying to slow her frantic heart. It had a nice ring to it,
didn't it? She sighed and shook her head. *No. Harry is my friend.* Only*my friend.
Right?*

* * * *

In room 263 Victor was crossing his arms and staring into the fireplace. A gleam of triumph
curled his lips into a smile.

"You're certain the papers will be undetectable?" Victor asked, looking closely at
Brewer. "Morgan won't be able to tell they've been falsified? He won't be able to
detect anything?"

"Not unless you tell him," Brewer replied in a raspy voice. "And I doubt
you're going to do that. He won't know the difference. The papers will look legal and
binding. They *will* be binding," Brewer laughed, "and not exactly *illegal*,
but what Morgan doesn't know won't hurt him."

"Are you *certain* nothing can go wrong?" Victor pushed.

"This plan is foolproof. Nothing is going to happen. You worry too much, Vic," Brewer
said.

"I just can't afford to lose this deal. We're talking about a lot of money here,
Brewer."

"Believe me, I know," he replied greedily, "because some of it's going to be
mine."

"Yes. If this plans works accordingly, you'll be a wealthy bastard," Victor
grinned.

"Good. I've always been a bastard, but it will be nice to be something
different."

"Okay. Send the papers as soon as you can. I'll get Morgan to sign them and we'll
seal this deal."

"Let me know when you get them." And Brewer's head disappeared from the fire.

Victor took a moment to sigh. He rubbed the bridge of his nose and stood up while reassuring the
doubts in his mind that everything would be fine. The only way they could screw up this deal would
be if Morgan was a mind reader, and clearly he wasn't--or he would have long ago fled.

* * * *

Hermione walked through the lobby and wound her way around the people and toward the spa. She
stopped outside two gleaming silver doors with a sign hanging down that displayed the name of the
spa. *Madame Gita's Heavenly Adventure.*

Hermione gripped the long silver handle on the right side door and pulled it open. A youthful
witch was standing behind a receptionist's desk; she glanced up as Hermione entered.

"Good morning," she greeted.

"Good morning. I'm supposed to be meeting Cynthia Morgan," Hermione began.

"Oh yes, of course. You must be Mrs. Parker." The witch leaned over and spoke into a
square object on her desk. "Maria, Mrs. Julianna Parker is here to join the Sevilles."
She looked back up at Hermione. "Maria will be here momentarily and lead you to the rest of
your party."

"Thank you," Hermione replied.

In a moment the girl Hermione presumed to be Maria appeared. She beckoned Hermione to follow her
down a long tiled hallway. They passed many closed doors, some of which had warm white steam
creeping out through the bottom. When they stopped, Maria pushed open a door and stood to the side
while Hermione stepped in.

Instantly, she saw the Sevilles, Beatrice, Victoria and Plumeria, but Cynthia was the one who
spoke up first.

"Oh, Julianna, I'm so glad you've decided to join us. You're just in time to
start the facial. This table is for you," she said, reaching over and patting the long
cushioned table beside hers.

"Do I need to change?" Hermione asked, feeling her cheeks flush. They were all wrapped
in white towels, obviously naked beneath.

"Of course you have to change," Victoria said incredulously.

Without thinking, Hermione glared at her. She quickly forced a smile and said, "This is my
first time."

"Of course it is," Beatrice said in her saccharine voice. Then, looking at Victoria
she added, "Not everyone is familiar with our sort of lifestyle, Victoria. We must be
patient."

Hermione fought the urge to roll her eyes.

Cynthia looked at her; a twinkle in her eye was tugging her lips into an amused smile. "The
changing room is right over there," she pointed, "and there are more towels. They wrap
around your body instantly with no worry of falling off. They're the best invention since the
microwave oven."

"What's a macronave oven?" Victoria asked, wrinkling her face in an unattractive
manner.

Hermione caught Cynthia's eyes, and they both smiled. "Oh, it's a *brilliant*
invention. But you would have to have read books covering topics other than fashion," Hermione
said sweetly to Victoria while walking toward the changing room. "Not everyone is accustomed
to a lifestyle that incorporates reading. It's understandable." And she closed the
changing room door as Victoria frowned.

* * * *

Harry walked into the Gentlemen's Quarters and could instantly smell the cigars and scotch.
The Sevilles weren't hard to spot *or* hear. From what Harry could gather, Victor was in
the middle of a rowdy joke. Gavin was laughing loudly, and Nathan chuckled in amusement.

"Jonathan!" Nathan called, turning to see Harry walking in their direction as Victor
finished delivering the punchline.

"Morning," Harry said as he took a seat beside Damien.

Victor walked over to Harry and opened a neatly polished wooden box. Two rows of neatly arranged
cigars lay inside, waiting to be chosen. Harry reached out and picked one up, even though he
didn't smoke, and thanked Victor.

"I hope you don't mind," Damien Seville said, eyeing Harry, "but we usually
spend most of our time discussing areas of business."

Harry leaned back in the cushy leather chair and twirled the cigar in his fingers. "Nope. I
don't mind at all."

"And," Gavin said, looking down his nose at Harry while sucking on the end of his
cigar, "what is it you do again? Own a bookshop with your wife?" There was a smirk in
Gavin's voice that was hard to miss.

*This is going to be a long day,* Harry thought immediately before forcing a smile.

* * * *

Hermione closed her eyes and smiled as best she could. Seeing as how she had a very thick layer
of drying brown goo on her face, moving the muscles around her mouth was difficult, but she managed
a cracking smile at Cynthia. A wand hovered near her face and a tingling sensation followed.

"He is...something special," Hermione said shyly. She reached for a carrot and parted
her lips enough to shove it in her mouth and bite.

"Oh, come on," Cynthia laughed. Her face was bright green and sparkling, and a white
towel was wound tightly around her head. "You can do better than that. You're newlyweds.
*Everything* is different...at least for a while. How is he in the sack?"

Hermione giggled. "In the sack? What in the world does that mean?" She took another
bite of her carrot.

Cynthia laughed again and looked over at the Sevilles. All three Seville women were being
pampered inside a glass room full of a white powdery substance that hovered in the air like
perfumed smoke. She was certain they couldn't hear their conversation, but she leaned closer
anyway. She picked up a carrot from the plate between her and Hermione.

"How is he in *bed*?" Cynthia whispered conspiratorially before biting into the
crunchy carrot.

Hermione immediately choked on her carrot. She lifted her hands, covered her mouth with one and
placed one against her chest as her coughing fit ensued. Cynthia burst out laughing.

"You're both young, and if you don't mind me saying, he's quite handsome.
Merlin knows he's crazy about you," Cynthia continued while Hermione settled back
down.

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked, placing the rest of her half eaten carrot down on
the plate.

"The way he looks at you," Cynthia sighed, "it reminds me of when Nathan and I
were young."

"Oh," Hermione protested, feeling her cheeks fill with color, "he doesn't
look at me any differently than he did before." She thought back through all the years
she'd known Harry, and shook her head. She was most certain nothing had changed between
them--she was desperately trying to convince herself.

Cynthia rolled her eyes playfully. "A dead woman could feel the heat between the two of
you. It's so obvious. So, tell me. Is he any good in bed?" She exploded with laughter
again when Hermione's face paled.

"...I...he...we...well, what I mean to say is..." she paused and bit her bottom lip.
She laughed nervously, and looking back into Cynthia's inquisitive face, she swallowed.
"Yes," she said, surprised to hear the absolution she heard in her voice.

"I knew it," Cynthia grinned. "Amazing?"

"Absolutely," Hermione said, closing her eyes unconsciously and allowing her thoughts
of Harry to drift down a hallway in her mind where she had hung a no admittance sign for years.
What would it hurt to think of him as something other than a best friend? Who would know? Somehow
she knew that Harry *would* be amazing in bed. Heat began to pool in her stomach, and her body
warmed considerably.

"Oh, dear," Cynthia said, touching Hermione's hand. Hermione opened her eyes and
tried to refocus her thoughts. "If I wasn't mad about Nathan, I would be
jealous."

"Of what?" Hermione asked, trying to swallow past the dryness in her throat. She
licked her lips.

"Of a love that great. It's obvious the two of you adore each other, respect each
other, and just to know that the love stretches past friendship and into something more intimate is
amazing. It's a rare and beautiful thing. Never let go of each other," Cynthia said
gently.

Hermione suddenly felt as if she might cry so she looked away from Cynthia and inhaled a deep
breath. "I don't ever *want* to let go of him," she whispered, shocked to know
it was the absolute truth.

"So don't. And if you stay because he's amazing or because he's amazing *in
the sack*, it's up to you and I won't think any less of you."

Hermione turned her head quickly to look at Cynthia with an expression of astonishment, but
immediately she saw the twinkle in her eyes. Cynthia laughed, and Hermione couldn't help
herself--she smiled and her heart sighed at the realization Cynthia had pulled out of her. She
didn't ever want to let go of Harry...*never ever*.

* * * *

Harry fought off the twenty-fifth yawn of the morning that was trying to fight its way out.
Listening to the Sevilles drone on and on about boring business tactics was really putting him to
sleep. He was only trying to stay awake to make sure he didn't miss any details for
Hermione.

As far as he could tell, the Sevilles looked the part of the shady characters, but he could find
nothing in their conversations to prove they were anything more.

"...I think consolidating the companies without *any* employees losing their jobs is a
very important issue, and I'm glad you agree with my opinion," Nathan said as Victor
smiled a toothy grin and nodded his approval.

"Yes, the employees are very important to us, Nathan," Damien said, but when Harry
looked at his face, he saw no sincerity in the old man's words.

Gavin interrupted the business talk, and Harry was greatly relieved until he realized *he*
was turning into the topic of conversation.

"You look like someone. I can't quite figure out who it is, but it's someone,"
Gavin said, looking directly at Harry.

Harry used only a second of a beat to allow his heart to stop, then he smiled broadly and
shrugged his shoulders. "Tom Cruise?"

"Tom who?" Victor questioned immediately as Nathan laughed.

"Tom Cruise!" Nathan said boisterously. "Yes, my wife said that. She told me
Julianna fancies him and likes to say you favor him."

Harry smiled at Nathan, thankful for his lighthearted nature. "Yeah. So she tells
me."

"Well, at least he's a handsome bloke. Better than saying you favor Timothy Spall,
right?"

Harry laughed and nodded his head. "Exactly."

"Who the bloody hell is this Tom fellow?" Victor asked, clearly annoyed to be left out
of the conversation.

"He's an American Muggle actor," Nathan explained.

Gavin exhaled a righteous puff of air. "Muggles," he said in disgust. "I
wouldn't necessarily think that's a compliment."

Harry's gaze narrowed immediately at Gavin, and in that moment, he didn't give a damn
what kind of information was at stake.

"I think it would be best if you didn't bad mouth Muggles," Harry replied
darkly.

"Oh yeah? And why is that? I'm not afraid of a stupid Muggle--" Gavin
continued.

Harry's hand gripped his wand tightly without lifting it. "--My wife is a
Muggle-born."

"As is *mine*," Nathan replied, clearly offended. Gavin paled.

"Gavin, I think you should get us another round of drinks," his father demanded in a
quiet voice. Gavin stood and stalked away. "My deepest apologies, Nathan. Gavin is still young
and hotheaded. He means no disrespect."

"Of course he doesn't," Nathan said, and Harry could see the tension leave his
shoulders, but Harry also didn't miss the fact that Damien Seville had *not* apologized to
*him*.

Victor stood and whispered something to his father before heading toward Gavin. Nathan leaned
over and whispered to Harry while the others were talking.

"A bit fierce over the wife?" There was no anger in his voice, and when Harry looked
at him, he thought he saw amusement in Nathan's eyes.

He sighed. "A bit. I'm sorry for my quick temper. I've always had a bit of a
problem with that."

"No apologies to me, son. I must say it's refreshing to see a man so willing to fight
for his woman."

"I'd fight to the death for her," he said quickly and honestly. *I already have
once. I'd do it again.*

"I have no doubts about that," Nathan said, smiling.

Harry leaned back in his chair and rubbed the bridge of his nose. What did that mean? What did
it mean that he was so willing to fight someone over Hermione's honor? Did that mean he was an
amazing best friend? Or did it mean more?

* * * *

Victoria twirled in front of a large mirror and smiled while it complimented her profusely.
Hermione was sure the boutique's mirrors were all charmed to flatter the shoppers into buying
more. The more compliments given, the more money people spent. It was a clever idea, but Hermione
still found herself frowning as she watched Victoria twirl and fluff her hair.

"Different breed of animal," Cynthia said as she stepped up beside Hermione.

"She's gorgeous. *And* perfect," Hermione mumbled.

"She's a shell. Lovely on the outside but hollow inside. You, on the other hand, are
full of stuff inside," Cynthia replied.

"Like caramel?" she asked, feeling silly.

"And sugar and spice," Cynthia said, following Hermione's playful behavior.

"And everything nice?"

"That's right. You're full of lots of interesting things...intelligence, kindness,
secrets--"

"--secrets?" Hermione asked, blanching.

"Every woman has secrets," she said, winking, "the difference is some of us keep
them much better than others." She held up a soft blue dress in front of Hermione, and changed
the subject quickly. "I thought this would look lovely on you."

"On *me*?"

"Yes. Go try it on and let's have a look." Hermione looked at Victoria, who was
still twirling while Beatrice was complimenting her, and frowned. Cynthia seemed to read her mind.
"Never mind Barbie. You try this on. I think you're going to look amazing."

"Oh, okay," Hermione sighed, but nevertheless enjoying the growing camaraderie between
her and Cynthia.

Hermione walked into a changing room and as soon as she pulled on the dress, she looked at her
reflection and smiled. It *was* very nice. Without meaning to, she wondered what Harry would
think of it. She instantly shoved those thoughts away and opened the door.

Cynthia was waiting for her. She smiled when she saw Hermione.

"Oh, I *knew* it. That color is wonderful with your skin tone and hair. You need to
buy that," she said assuredly.

"I don't know," Hermione hesitated.

"Wow, you look...different," Victoria said, walking up to Hermione wearing a tight
silver beaded dress that left little to the imagination.

"Thanks," Hermione mumbled.

"Doesn't she look wonderful?" Cynthia said, smiling.

"It's definitely a great dress," Beatrice added.

"You're right. It *is* a great dress, but what's in it is much, *much*
better," a male voice said, and Hermione's heart stopped when she saw Harry standing
behind Cynthia. She blushed.

"Jonathan," she breathed out, amazed that she hadn't called him by his real
name.

"You look..." he searched for the right word.

"Beautiful? Stunning? Sexy?" Cynthia said, taking him by the arm and walking him
closer to Hermione.

"Yes, yes and yes," he said sweetly, and Hermione's blush deepened.

"Oh, well...Cynthia picked it out..." she stuttered, glancing anywhere but at
Harry.

"Good choice," he said to her.

"I thought so," Cynthia replied. "So, how was business with the men?"

"Interesting," Harry answered. "I'm sure it wasn't as entertaining as
being pampered and shopping."

"Of course not. Talking business all morning sounds dull as dirt to me," Cynthia said
as she smiled at Harry. Nathan walked up behind her and slipped his hand into hers. Hermione saw
the smile that passed between them and then noticed the rest of the Seville clan walk into the
boutique.

"Have a good time?" Hermione asked Harry quietly as the wives joined their
husbands.

"Oh, yeah," he whispered sarcastically, "about as much fun as fighting a
manticore with my hands tied behind my back."

Hermione giggled. "Well, I *did* have fun." When she smiled up at him, her heart
fluttered. Cynthia's conversation was still bouncing around in her brain.

"Good to hear, and I wasn't kidding about the dress. You look great," he said
quietly, grinning at her in a way that caused her breath to catch in her throat.

"Well, I should go change," she said, turning away from him, but Harry caught her arm
and stopped her.

"What is it?" she asked in surprise.

"Leave it on. It's nice," he said, and she wrinkled her nose at him. Then, he
leaned over and whispered, "Come on, we're putting on a good show for the Sevilles. We
look like two innocent naïve kids in love. Completely unaware of the evil all around us. Never
assuming they know more than they're telling."

Hermione leaned close to him. "Did you find out something?" she whispered, her eyes
wide with curiosity.

"I've got a few assumptions. Nothing concrete, but I do believe something underhanded
is going on," he whispered back.

Hermione put her hand on his cheek and smiled; she noticed Victor and Damien watching them
closely. "Oh honey," she said, "you are so wonderful."

With his back to the Sevilles, they couldn't see the smirk pulling his lips.
"That's my girl. Ham it up," he said lightly. "Let's go back to our room so
I can peel this off of you," he joked playfully. Hermione's face flushed, and her mouth
dropped open. He leaned down and put his face against her cheek while slipping an arm around her
waist and pulling her close to him. "Go along with it. I want to tell you about what I learned
today. It's a good excuse and it will show them that we don't care about them or their
business talks. We're too consumed with each other," he whispered against her cheek.

His breath was hot, and her skin shivered in thrilling waves. "Okay," she whispered
back, unable to say more. She felt sure her legs had turned into two wet noodles.

Harry grabbed her hand and began tugging her through the boutique. Nathan and Cynthia were
talking with Damien and Beatrice at the front of the store.

"I'll pay for the dress. You can tell the Morgans we're leaving," Harry said,
stepping up to the counter.

Hermione walked up beside Cynthia and touched her arm lightly. "Excuse me, Cynthia,"
she said quietly, "Jonathan and I are going to go up to our room."

"Oh?" she asked, raising an eyebrow in delight. "The dress is a keeper
then?"

Hermione smiled shyly. "Definitely. Thanks Cynthia. I had a really great time
today."

Cynthia touched Hermione's hand and smiled easily. "So did I." Then she winked.
"Enjoy him."

"I will," Hermione whispered back.

"Are you leaving?" Victor asked, interrupting Cynthia and Hermione's
conversation.

"Jonathan and I are going up to the room for a bit. We need to send an owl to our friends.
It's their anniversary today," she lied quickly.

"Victoria and I will go with you. We need to get a few things out of our room as
well," he said smoothly.

"Ready?" Harry asked as he walked up and stood beside Hermione. She nodded.
"Nathan, Damien, it was a real pleasure. I'm sure we'll see you later."

Harry took Hermione's hand, and they walked through the lobby toward the lifts. Victor and
Victoria were close behind. While they were waiting for the lift to arrive, Harry pulled Hermione
close to him and she laughed. He knew Victor was watching them closely. She laid her head against
his chest, knowing they were only *putting on a show*, but enjoying herself just the same. It
felt good to be so close to Harry.

"Did you enjoy our business talks today, Jonathan?" Victor asked as the doors to the
lift opened. They stepped inside, and Hermione leaned against Harry. He glanced down at her, and
the way he looked at her made her feel as though there was no one else in the world but the two of
them. She rested her head against his shoulder, and it gave her the perfect angle to look at
Victor. She could see the calculating curiosity in his eyes as he waited for Harry to answer..

Harry shrugged him off and smiled. "Oh, it was almost all Chinese to me," he lied.
"Owning our bookshop is enough of a challenge for me."

"Of course," Victor said, smiling, and Hermione could tell his worries were
pacified.

Her thoughts were shut off again as Harry tugged her closer to him. The doors opened up to the
second floor and Victoria stepped off without saying a word. Victor stepped off and turned to look
at them.

Harry whispered, "Look at me."

Hermione looked up at him and didn't know if the feeling of love she felt in her chest was
real or only part of their disguise. Victor called goodbye to them, but Harry's gaze never left
Hermione's.

"See you around, Victor," he said absentmindedly as the lift doors closed.

Hermione sighed when they were alone, but Harry didn't step away from her. She wanted to ask
him what he'd found out, but when she looked back up into his eyes, she couldn't think. Her
thoughts were jumbled up, and she was losing herself in his green eyes.

"We put on a good show," she said quietly, trying to find a release for the tightness
in her chest.

"We're a good team," he answered.

"Always have been," she agreed, wondering if she should step away from him. The heat
from his body was rapidly unnerving her.

"Always will be," he added, and all at once she found it difficult to breathe
normally.

"They aren't watching us anymore," she said quietly, hearing the sound of her
thumping heart hammering in her ears.

"I know," he said just as quietly. Then, he lifted his hand to her cheek, and his
expression softened.

"We don't have to pretend anymore," she whispered as her knees began to
tremble.

"I'm not," he whispered back.

She pulled in a surprised gulp of air. She wasn't prepared for his reply, and she was even
*less* prepared when he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers.

Her mouth opened to his, and Harry instantly deepened the kiss. Her head swam and spun out of
control. She leaned into him and slid her arms around his neck. She couldn't breathe. She
couldn't think. All she could do was kiss him.

It was exhilarating. It was passionate, and it was scary as hell.

The doors to the lift opened and somehow they stumbled out, still in each others' arms,
still kissing. Harry leaned her up against the door to their room as he slipped his hand behind her
head. Suddenly, Hermione was frighteningly aware of what was happening. She put her hands on his
chest and pushed him away.

Her eyes were glassy and filled with unexpected desire. She pressed a hand to her forehead in
the hopes that it would steady her spinning head. She couldn't look at Harry. How could she?
What would she see in his eyes?

She fumbled in her pockets for the key and turned around quickly, shoving the door open and
rushing inside. Harry was on her heels. She stood at the edge of the bed and struggled to steady
her breathing.

"Oh, God, Hermione, I'm sorry. I don't know...I didn't mean to..." he
stumbled, and she could hear the distressed sincerity in his voice.

"You didn't mean to?" she asked, turning around and looking up at him. Suddenly
she wanted to cry.

He hesitated at her question, looked as if he wanted to reach out and touch her and then thought
better of it. "I don't want to ruin our friendship. It was stupid, and I'm sorry. I
wasn't thinking," he said, his words rushing out in a strangled voice.

"It was stupid?" she asked, blinking away the approaching tears. She wanted to melt
into the carpet.

"No, that's not what I meant," he said quickly. He finally reached out and rubbed
his hand down her arm. He felt her shiver beneath him. He sighed. "I don't want you to be
angry with me. I don't want to ruin our friendship, Hermione. You're too important to
me."

"I'm not angry with you, Harry," she said, quietly, staring down at her feet.

"Look at me," he said gently and she obeyed. "Have I messed up everything? God,
I'm so sorry Hermione. What can I do to fix this?"

She stared into his worried green eyes, and she swallowed, finding the bravery she was sure was
still buried deep within her. She took a step toward him.

"You can kiss me again," she whispered as her heart raced in her chest.

Harry's eyes widened then relaxed as a slow, loving smile crept across his lips.
"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"You're not angry with me?" he asked, sliding his hand up to her neck and then
running it through her hair.

"No," she whispered. "Just a little surprised."

"Fair enough," he said as he moved his other hand around her waist and pulled her body
slowly toward his.

"And a little scared," she admitted.

"Me, too."

"Really?" she asked, surprised and somewhat relieved.

"Oh yeah. Terrified."

"Then why did you...why did you *kiss* me?" she asked, looking up into his
eyes.

"It just felt right," he confessed.

Then, she smiled, even though her stomach was a nervous knot. "It did?"

"I couldn't stop myself," he said and closed his eyes as she slid her hands
hesitantly up his chest. She'd never touched Harry in such a way before, and she found it
thrilling.

"I don't want you to stop," she said nervously.

He didn't say any more. He merely leaned down and began kissing her again. It was easy and
gentle at first like a sparking ember, but the passion between them soon burst into a roaring
flame--a flame that burned so high and so out of control that neither of them could stop it, and
neither of them wanted to. It consumed them entirely in a burning blanket of heat and desire.



9. Surprising Realizations
--------------------------

IT’S ONLY PRETEND

**Surprising Realizations**

**Chapter Nine**

Hermione lay on the bed, the sheets tangled at her feet. Her eyes were closed lazily, and she
could feel her mind drifting away, nearing sleep. She felt Harry shift on the bed, and she cracked
open an eye. He lay on his side, looking down at her.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked.

“Oh, I don’t know. Why?” she wondered, closing her eye again.

“You were smiling.”

“Was I?” She grinned slowly. “I guess I was.”
”So, what were you thinking about?”

She opened her eyes and rolled onto her side, facing him. She reached out a lazy finger and
touched his shoulder, then his chest. A sigh of content escaped her lips before she spoke.

“I was thinking of the first time I met you, on the Hogwarts Express. Then, that thought quickly
turned into many others. Like the first time I watched you play Quidditch. I was so worried. And
the Tri-Wizard Tournament…gosh, I thought surely I’d give myself an ulcer before it was over. I
nearly did.” She laughed lightly, falling gently onto her back as her memories returned. “The Yule
Ball…Ron was so surprised that I went with Viktor. Never let me live that one down either. We were
so young and still, you and Ron and I…we had so *many* adventures. And it’s funny, it seems
like it all just happened. So, I found myself wondering…when did we grow up?”

She felt Harry brush his fingers against her cheek. “I can scarcely find a memory that doesn’t
have you in it,” he said quietly. “Even when I try really hard, it’s difficult. And I suppose, I
don’t want to remember the ones without you.”

She smiled. “It’s hard to believe I haven’t known you my whole life.”

“I know,” he admitted, “I feel the same way.” He slid his fingers down her bare arm and she
shivered. “And the rest of it?”

“What about it?” she asked, opening her eyes and looking up at him in question.

He shrugged. “What do you think about me being a part of the rest of your life?”

Hermione’s heart fluttered then stopped. *What was Harry trying to say?* She sat up
abruptly and reached for the sheets, pulling them up to her chest and holding them tightly against
her.

He sat up quickly and touched her arm. “Hermione,” he said immediately.

“What are you saying Harry?” she asked, hearing the quiver in her voice.

“I’m saying that something just happened between us—“

“—and it will change *every*thing,” she said, only just realizing the impact of their
actions. “We can never go back,” she whispered, staring across the room into nothing.

Harry grabbed her arm to get her attention. “I don’t *want* to go back,” he said honestly
and firmly.

She looked at him and didn’t understand the tears she felt spring into her eyes. “I…I…”

“Please, don’t say you regret this,” he said, and it pained her to see the worry on his
face.

She looked at him and reached her hand out to run it through his untidy black hair. His glasses
lay on the floor near the desk where he’d thrown them off. She could see articles of clothing
dropped or tossed carelessly around the room. Her stomach felt warm at the thought of what had
happened between them. It was new and exciting, and there wasn’t another soul in the world she
would have wanted to share such things with.

She smiled sweetly and blinked her eyes as the tears trickled down her cheeks. “I don’t regret
this at all. Not for one single second. It’s just all so sudden and so *obvious*.”

He laughed lightly. “What do you mean, obvious?”

“As I sit here and think about it, I wonder if I haven’t been in love with you for years.
Perhaps I just didn’t realize it,” she said, looking at his lopsided grin and smiling. She wiped
her wet cheeks.

“Yeah, you’re probably right. Everyone *has* known for years. I suppose *we’ve* been
the only ones denying it for ages.”

“Have you? Been denying your feelings for me, I mean?”

He shrugged and then leaned over and nuzzled against her neck. She giggled. “It’s possible.”

Hermione pulled away suddenly and asked, “What about Ron? What is *he* going to say?”

Harry grinned wider. “He’ll probably say it’s about time or something along those lines. Then,
he’ll make me swear not to talk about the *physical* aspect of our relationship. He’ll say he
doesn’t want that mental picture in his head because you’re like his sister and he doesn’t want to
hex me for what I’ll probably be doing with you.” Harry winked.

“Do you really think he’ll be okay with…with *whatever* this is?”

“Of course, Hermione. He’s been hinting about this to me since forever.”

“He *has*?” she asked in surprise.

“Sure.”
”But you’ve…and I’ve…well, we’ve dated other people,” she said, feeling suddenly awkward.

“So?”

“So, it’s not like we’ve been pining after each other.”

“We haven’t?” he asked playfully.

“Harry, I’m serious,” she said, swatting away his hand as he slid it up her arm.

“I know you are. And yes, we’ve dated other people, but every one of my girl friends have hated
how important you were to me. They said I constantly compared them to you—“

“—did you?” she asked quickly.

“Probably.”

“Why?”

“Why what? Why did I compare them to you? Because you’ve always been everything I’ve
wanted.”

She stared open-mouthed and disbelieving. “That’s impossible Harry. I’m a bossy, know-it-all,
bookworm—“

“—who is everything I’ve ever wanted,” he finished.

And she melted as she blushed. “That’s really kind,” she muttered.

He lifted her face up with his fingers. “That’s the *truth*.” He leaned towards her and
kissed her gently.

She almost gave in to his kisses but thoughts of the Sevilles entered her mind. “Harry,” she
said in between his kisses, “what did you learn today? You said something about the Sevilles.”

“Yes…later,” he muttered, still kissing her lips, her cheeks, her jaw line.

“Come on,” she giggled as he nipped at her ear, “we have to talk about this.”

“Just a few more minutes and then I promise we can talk business,” he said, leaning her back
onto the bed.

She started to protest, but when he began kissing down her neck she changed her mind. “Okay,
just a few more minutes…”

It didn’t seem to matter to either of them that a few more minutes turned into an hour.

* * * *

Hermione lay on the unmade bed on her stomach, eating a slice of orange when Harry walked out of
the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist as he rubbed another one against his wet hair.
Hermione’s mouth dropped open, and she looked away, feeling the blush pink her cheeks.

“You’ll have to get dressed before we discuss business,” she said quickly, glancing up at him.
He was grinning at her.

“And if I want to discuss *business* in my towel?” he asked playfully.

“Well, we won’t get very much done,” she tried to say seriously.

He knelt down in front of her and she couldn’t stop the hand that reached out and stroked his
face.

“That’s okay with me,” he whispered, closing his eyes.

She felt the familiar warmth begin to pool in her stomach and tug at her common sense. Then, she
pushed him away.

“Stop it, Harry,” she scolded. “You know we have work to do and you’re trying to distract
me.”

“I can’t help it,” he said, standing up and smiling. He walked over to his suitcase. “I don’t
mean to distract you. It’s accidental.” He dropped the towel from his waist and Hermione
gasped.

“Harry Potter!” she yelled and then burst out laughing. Harry looked over his shoulder at her
and winked. “You’re evil!”

“But devilishly handsome though, right?”

“Lucky for you,” she replied, sitting up on bed and trying not to watch as Harry pulled on his
boxers and then a pair of Muggle khakis. He *was* devilishly handsome. She licked her lips in
response.

He turned around and walked over to sit on the bed beside her. He touched her cheek and smiled.
“You’re flushed,” he said.

She looked down and felt her cheeks redden even more. “I feel so foolish, but it’s just that you
*are* handsome.”

It was Harry’s turn to blush. “Really?” he asked, looking at her with his big green eyes.

She laughed. It just tumbled out as she looked at the innocent expression on his face. He talked
arrogantly but in actuality, he didn’t believe half the things he said about himself.

She reached out and moved her hand down his bare chest. “Absolutely. I can hardly believe you’d
want someone like me—Oh!” she exclaimed as Harry shoved her back on the bed and leaned over
her.

“You keep talking like that and I’ll have to make you *stop* talking,” he said.

“Oh? And how do you plan to keep *me* quiet?” she smirked.

“I have some ideas,” he grinned. “Want to test a few of them out?”

She giggled and shoved Harry off her with her hands. “We have *work* to do, Harry.”

He poked out his lip in a mock pout, and then smiled. “Okay. You’re right. I’ll behave.”

“Just for now,” she whispered, leaning over and kissing him softly.

He raised his eyebrows. “That a promise?”

She smiled and looked away. “Okay, tell me what you know about the Sevilles. What did you find
out today?”

* * * *

Hermione paced the room as she listened to Harry talk. Every now and then she would interrupt
him and ask a question.

“I pretended to doze off once as they began talking of the merger. Nathan seemed less secretive
about it, but when Victor was talking, he would *hint* around to the actual deal. I got the
feeling he didn’t trust me. But then again, he’s probably not a trusting fellow seeing as how
*he’s* shady. So, when talk turned to the contract—“

“—The contract?” Hermione asked as she stopped pacing.

“Yeah. Nathan actually brought it up. I believe they are planning on signing the papers tomorrow
afternoon,” Harry said.

“Really? And you think,” she asked, watching Harry closing, “…you think the papers aren’t
legal?”

“Are you reading my mind, Miss Granger?”

She laughed lightly. “Of course not. I haven’t done that for years. The first sexual fantasy I
found buried in your mind stopped that practice.”

“WHAT?” he asked in shock.

She laughed again. “I’m *teasing* you, Harry. I would be too frightened to read your
mind.”

He sighed in relief. “Thank goodness for that. I thought perhaps you’d found that fantasy I had
of you wearing that little black lacy—“

She clamped a hand over his mouth. He smiled beneath it. “Stop that right now!” He nodded. “Back
to the contract.” She removed her hand.

“Right. I think somehow, I haven’t figured it out yet, but I think the contract has been
*fixed* somehow. I know the Sevilles don’t think Nathan is stupid enough not to read the
contract thoroughly, so my guess is they have doctored it somehow—“

“—and it looks legit but it’s not.”

“Right. I just don’t how we’re going to prove it,” he said, running his hand through his messy
hair. Hermione bit her bottom lip in thought, and then her eyes lit up. “What is it? I know that
look,” he said, smiling.

“It’s risky,” she said, and Harry laughed.

“Oh, I’m sure I can handle it,” he said playfully.

“Okay,” she said quickly, “did you bring your cloak with you?”

“Of course.”

“If we could somehow sneak into their room, then we could search for the contract. I know a few
wicked and heavy-duty Revealing Charms. They won’t be permanent because we wouldn’t *want*
them to know we’d been in there. We need them to think they’re getting away with it.”

“But what about the Morgans? You can’t possibly want them to sign a doctored contract, can
you?”

“Of course not, Harry, but one step at a time. First we need to prove that the contract
*is* hiding something.”

“And how are we going to get into their room?” Harry wondered.

“Maid service?”

“What?” Harry asked in confusion.

“Every morning, the maid service comes around. We could sneak in then,” Hermione said
triumphantly as she stood in front of him.

“Excellent idea. So, now that we have this sorted out for now, are we done with *their*
business for now?”

“I think so,” she said, looking away and thinking.

Harry reached out and grabbed her; she squealed. He pulled her on top of him as he leaned back
on the bed.

“What are you doing?” she laughed.

“Getting back to *our* business.”

She lay on top of Harry and smiled down at him. “And what exactly does that entail?”

“Oh, you’ll see,” he said huskily and he began kissing her.

* * * *

The following morning Hermione stood in the lift, seemingly alone, as she rode down to the
second floor. She watched the numbers illuminate and change as the lift moved.

“Are you sure you want to do this? I can do it instead?” she asked.

“Positive,” Harry replied from under his Invisibility Cloak.

She turned to look in his direction. “I’m nervous,” she said honestly.

“Don’t be. This is going to be easy. I’m going to sneak into the room, wait for the maid to
leave and then let you in.”

“I know.”

The lift doors opened to the second floor and Hermione took a deep breath. “I’ll ride down to
the lobby and take the stairs back up.”

“Okay, love, I’ll see you in a little while.”

She didn’t hear Harry step off the lift, but she knew he had because she suddenly felt very
alone. She rode the lift down to the lobby, bought a postcard she thought she’d send to Ron later,
and tried to act as casual as possible, but she nearly screamed when Victor came up behind her.

“Shopping?” he asked.

She whirled around quickly. “Oh, yes,” she breathed out. “Good morning. How are you?”

“Excellent. Where is your husband?” he asked casually.

“Oh, he’s getting ready upstairs. I wanted to run down here and buy a postcard, then I think
we’re going to the pool. What are you and Victoria planning for today?” Her stomach was in
knots.

“Victoria has gone off with my mother shopping somewhere…spending my hard-earned cash. Like most
women do, I suppose. I’m having breakfast with my father and brother, and then we have a lunch
meeting with Nathan.”

“Oh? Well tell Nathan I said hello. I best get going. Have a good morning, Victor,” Hermione
said as she hurried away for the staircase.

* * * *

Harry stopped in front of room number 263. The door was propped open and he could hear the maid
bustling around inside. He slipped in quietly and eased into the nearest corner. He stood
completely still for the next ten minutes and just as his left leg began to cramp, the maid
finished cleaning and left.

He waited a good few minutes before walking over to the door and opening it. Hermione was
standing in the hallway, pretending to read a newspaper. She lowered the paper and glanced at the
opened door.

“Coast is clear,” he whispered.

She hurried inside and closed the door gently behind her. “Did you find it?” she asked.

“Not yet,” he answered, pulling off the cloak.

“Well, we’ll need to hurry. I ran into Victor in the lobby. He said he was having breakfast with
his family and then he’s meeting Nathan for *lunch*. Hopefully he left the contract in
here.”

Harry was already shuffling through a briefcase. “Damn it, where do you think he’d keep it?” he
asked, feeling his anxiety growing. The contract wasn’t in the briefcase. He moved on to the
drawers in the dresser.

Hermione suddenly stopped looking through the drawer in the nightstand. “How could I be so
stupid? *Accio* contract!” she blurted.

A gush of wind and a second later, a stack of papers flew out of the bathroom and through the
air and landed in her outstretched hand.

Harry stood still and shook his head. “You are brilliant,” he smiled.

“Thank you.” She placed the contract on the bed and pulled out her wand. “Okay, stand back.” She
pointed her wand at the contract and uttered a Revealing Charm.

The contract began to glow red and she watched as the letters on the first page began to swirl
and change.

“Look!” he said as the wording altered. “We were right! There *are* things hidden inside
this contract. Those *bastards!* They are trying to swindle the Morgans.”

“Yes, they are,” Hermione said, frowning as she read the new words on the page. Then, the red
glow faded, and the words reverted back to their original condition.

“What’s happening?”

“The charm is only momentary.”

“Then, how will they know it’s fake?” Harry asked.

“I’m thinking,” she said biting her bottom lip. “Okay, let’s put this back where it came from
and let me think about how we can do this without the Sevilles suspecting anything.”

A few minutes later, Hermione and Harry were riding the lift back up to their bedroom. Her
forehead was still creased in thought. Harry opened the door and allowed Hermione to step in before
him. She walked over and dropped onto the bed.

“Wait, I’ve got it! I can make a Revealing Potion, and if we can somehow come up with a way to
pour it on the contract. Then, Nathan will see the contract is a phony. But…” she paused and looked
up at Harry.

“But what?”

“Well…I mean, if we pull this off, we’ll have all the information I need for my story and…”

“…we’ll have to go home?”

“Well…yeah,” she said, feeling sad with the idea.

Harry turned away and walked over to the large tub. He leaned over and turned on the water taps
and a silver tap which flowed with sweet smelling bubbles.

“What are you doing?” she asked, watching him in confusion.

He looked at her over his shoulder as he tested the temperature of the water with his hand. He
shrugged his shoulders. “If we have to leave today after you make the potion and figure out how to
use it, then we’ll not have made good use of this tub. And that would be a shame.”

He stood up and walked over to her, reached out his hands, and pulled her up. He began
unbuttoning her shirt and smiled.

“That *would* be a shame,” she whispered, feeling her heart slam against her ribs in
excitement as she reached for the button on his pants.

* * * *

Harry closed his suitcase and smiled at Hermione. “I’m all packed. You?” he asked.

“All done. Let me wrap this potion and write the note out to Cynthia, and then we’ll be all
ready to go.”

Hermione pointed her wand at the potion and flipped her wand in a series of swishes and loops. A
box formed around the bottle, and the spell finished off by tying a large bow on top.

“Looks great,” Harry admitted. “I’ll take the suitcases down. Are the Morgans meeting us in the
lobby?”

“Yeah. I’m going to miss this place,” she said quietly, “and the Morgans.”

Harry slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her close to him. “We can always come back
for a visit.”

“Yeah?”

“Sure we can.”

“Okay,” she sighed, “let’s get going.”

They rode the lift down and as soon as they entered the lobby, they saw the Morgans waiting for
them.

“Oh, Julianna, I can’t believe you have to leave!” Cynthia said sadly. “We were just starting to
have such a great time.”

“I know,” Hermione admitted, “but we’ve got to get back to the store. But I,” she paused as she
pulled the box out and handed it to Cynthia, “…I thought you might like this.”

“What is this?” Cynthia asked in surprise.

“A gift for you. You and Nathan have been so kind to us, and I wanted to get you something to
show you how much it has meant to us both.”

“You didn’t have to get us anything.”

“We know, but we *wanted* to,” Harry added. He turned toward Nathan and shook his head.
“Best of luck to you, Nathan. It’s been a real pleasure.”

“Here, take this. It’s one of my cards. We should be back home in another week or so. Give us
call. Cynthia and I would *love* to take you and Julianna out to dinner sometime.”

“Oh yes! Do that, please,” Cynthia said sweetly, pulling Hermione into a hug. “Be safe traveling
home and I hope we can see you again very soon.”

They finished their goodbyes and Harry and Hermione waved one last time as they walked toward
the Flooing ports.

Harry slipped his arm around her waist and tugged he toward him as they walked. “We did the
right thing,” he whispered.

“I know. I just hope it works,” she whispered back.

“When has an idea of yours *not* worked?”

“Thanks for coming with me, Harry.”

“I wouldn’t have missed this for all the world.”

As they stepped into the giant hearth, she looked up at him and smiled. She hoped that leaving
their *pretend* vacation as *pretend* husband and wife didn’t mean their life would go
back to just as it was before all the *pretending* started.



10. The Truth
-------------

IT’S ONLY PRETEND

**The Truth**

**Chapter 10**

Cynthia sat on her bed and placed the box from the Parkers in the center as she opened the
letter attached. Her eyes widened immediately as she began reading the note.

*Dear Cynthia,*

*I realize this letter will seem as if I’m quite mad, but please believe me when I say I am
not. Inside the package I have given you is a very strong Revealing Potion.*

*I have reason to believe that the contract Nathan will be signing at lunch is not exactly
what it may seem to be on surface level. I have an idea that I believe will prove that my beliefs
are right.*

*Take this potion and pour it into a normal drink. Approach your husband and the Sevilles with
your drink and pretend you are only stopping by to say hello. Accidentally spill the drink on the
contract, and you will see it for what it really is.*

*Please trust me, Cynthia. If I am wrong, then all you will have is one soggy contract. Nathan
will forgive your clumsiness.*

*Julianna Parker*

Nathan walked out of the bathroom and smiled. “What did she give you dear?” he asked, placing a
kiss on her cheek.

“Oh…” she hesitated while she watched Nathan pull on his robes, “…a bottle of perfume.” Her
stomach felt queasy.

“That was very nice. I’m going down to meet the Sevilles for lunch. We’re going to sign the
contract, eat a little something and then I should be all yours for the rest of the day.”

“Sounds wonderful, honey. I’ll see you soon,” she said as she watched him leave.

She glanced down and read the letter once more. She opened the package quickly, holding the
bottle of Revealing potion. She wondered how in the world Julianna could know such things but
decided it didn’t matter. If Julianna was right, then she definitely had to disrupt the signing of
the contract before it was too late.

She grabbed her robes, slipped the bottle inside and left the room, heading straight for the bar
on her way to her husband’s lunch meeting.

* * * *

Hermione and Harry Flooed into her living room. She sighed as she stepped into the familiar
surroundings.

“Well, we’re home,” she said.

Harry walked her suitcase into her bedroom and emerged smiling. “I had a great trip, Hermione. I
think I’m going to go home and unpack my things. I’ll Floo over later and maybe…maybe we can talk
about things,” he said, reaching out his hand and touching her arm.

She looked up at him and wished her stomach didn’t feel so tight and uncomfortable. “Sure. That
sounds fine.”

He could see the concern in her eyes, but he needed to get back to his own flat and think about
everything before he would be able to talk about their situation clearly.

She watched him Floo out of her flat, and when she was alone, she sat down on her couch and
leaned her head back.

“Oh, I hope Cynthia goes through with it,” she said aloud, “and I *hope* Harry comes back.”
She closed her eyes and tried to relax. She knew she should head up to work and began typing out
her findings, but first, she needed a few moments of peace with her jittery nerves and anxious
stomach.

* * * *

Cynthia ordered a Red Dragon at the bar. She didn’t especially like that particular drink but
the potion Julianna had given her was also red. It would be harder to notice anything out of the
ordinary with the drink.

She thanked the bartender before walking away and hiding in a corner in order to open the bottle
and pour the potion into her drink. It fizzled and bubbled before settling down. When she was
certain she was ready, she made her way to the restaurant in which Nathan was meeting with the
Sevilles.

As she approached their table, she could feel the adrenaline pumping through her body. She
smiled when Victor looked up at her.

“Cynthia,” he said in surprise, “how lovely to see you.”

She forced her most charming smile. “You too.”

“What are you doing dear?” Nathan asked, surprised to see her as well.

She tried to remain calm when she saw the contract resting between Nathan’s arms. He was holding
a quill in his hand as he smiled up at her. She placed her drink on the table, very near the
contract.

“Oh, I wanted to stop by and wish you luck,” she said sweetly.

“Well, thank you dear.”

“I hope you enjoy your lunch,” she began as she leaned over to kiss his cheek. While she did
this, she slid her hand slightly toward the drink and tipped it over with her hand. “OH NO!” she
gasped in mock distress.

Nathan slid quickly out of the way as the red liquid rushed across the table and soaked the
white pages of the contract. Gavin cursed. Victor jumped up, and Damien frowned deeply. Cynthia
grabbed the nearest napkin and started dabbing the papers.

“I am *so* sorry, Nathan!”

“Oh, that’s alright, honey,” he said as he picked up another napkin and began blotting the
liquid away. “It’s just a little wet. No harm done.”

Cynthia was just beginning to think Julianna had been wrong when the words on the page started
changing.

“Oh!” she gasped as she looked down. She caught Nathan’s eye and his eyes widened as he looked
back down.

“What is this?” he questioned immediately.

“It looks like your wife has destroyed the contract with her drink,” Victor replied dryly.

“No,” Nathan said, and his wife saw the red flush of anger enter his face, “*this*!” he
demanded, holding the contract out so Victor could see exactly what he was talking about.

Upon seeing the altered contract, revealing the *truth* beneath the layers of false ink and
spells, Victor’s face paled considerably.

* * * *

Two hours later, Hermione rested her head against her hand and sighed. She’d written out all the
information she had acquired while on her pretend vacation. Her boss, Norman Stone, would be
pleased. She *knew* he would. She couldn’t wait for the wizarding world to be reintroduced to
just how nasty and conniving the Seville clan was—trying to steal a company from a well-respected
businessman. Her one regret was how much she genuinely liked the Morgans, and she and Harry had
lied to them about their true identities. It made her sad to think she’d never see them again—how
could they? They thought she was Julianna Parker, and that she was married to Jonathan.

She stayed at work for another hour before she Flooed back home. Then, she sat up on the couch,
waiting for Harry to show up again. At midnight, she fell asleep on the couch with a heavy heart.
Harry wasn’t coming back.

* * * *

Hermione dragged herself off the couch the next morning when her alarm clock buzzed. She wanted
to cry as soon as she woke up enough to realize that Harry hadn’t shown back up like he’d said he
would. What did that mean? Had he changed his mind about them?

She dressed, had coffee and managed to make herself presentable enough to Floo to work. As soon
as she sat down in her desk chair, her office door slammed open.

“Granger!” her boss, Norman, bellowed.

“Yes?” she asked wearily as she glanced at the picture on her desk. Harry smiled happily and
waved up at her. She reached out and pushed the picture face down.

“Got the story! Great work. I *knew* you’d get what I needed.”

“Oh,” she said in surprise. Norman rarely ever gave compliments.

He gripped the edge of her door as he made the move to shut it. “Oh, and I know I sent you down
there on the newspaper’s money, but don’t you think you spent a bit more than necessary?”

“But—“

“—yeah I thought so. I’ll take it out of your next check,” he replied before slamming the
door.

She dropped her head onto her arms. In another second, her door slammed open again. She lifted
her head, knowing she couldn’t take another round with Norman, and almost swallowed her tongue.
Harry stood in her office, looking sheepish.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to burst in without an appointment,” he said quickly as he crossed the
room.

“That’s okay,” she said quietly, looking at him with sad eyes.

“And I’m sorry that I didn’t Floo over last night. I needed some time,” he said, walking around
her desk to stand beside her.

“It’s okay, Harry. Listen, if you want to forget this ever happened, I completely
understand—“

He pressed his fingers to her mouth and dropped down in front of her. He reached into his robes
and pulled out a tiny black box. Hermione’s heart shuddered in her chest and fell to her feet.

“I needed some time to find the perfect ring,” he said, grinning at her and holding up the
opened box. “I want you to marry me, Hermione. Pretending to be your husband spoiled me, and I
liked it. I want you to be mine…forever.”

Hermione’s eyes filled with tears. “But…but…are you sure?” she asked, reaching hesitant fingers
out toward the box.

Harry laughed. “Of course, I’m sure.”

“It’s so beautiful,” she whispered as she began to smile widely.

“So, what do you say?”

She looked at Harry and immediately threw her arms around his neck. “Yes! Yes! Oh, *God*,
yes!” Harry stood up, lifting Hermione to her feet and holding her close. “I was afraid you’d
changed your mind about us,” she whispered against his neck, wetting his robes with her tears.

He pulled away from her just enough to look into her eyes. “Never.” He touched her face before
kissing her. “Let’s put this ring on.”

“Oh,” she said, having momentarily forgetting about it. She held her finger out to him and he
slipped it on. “It’s perfect.”

“And it’s real,” he winked.

“And we aren’t pretending,” she teased back.

“That’s right,” he replied, “and we aren’t pretending. Not anymore.”

He pulled her into a kiss, and she thought she’d never been happier about anything in her entire
life. She broke off the kiss, and before Harry could question why, she picked up her wand and cast
a Locking Charm on the door to her office.

She grinned mischievously up at Harry. “Now where were we?”

“Are you *sure* you’ve never read my mind before?” he asked, slipping his hands beneath her
robes.

“Why?” she asked curiously, giggling when he nipped at her ear.

“Because I always had this fantasy of you, in your office…on your desk.”

“Harry!” she said, flushing with embarrassment.

“What? I’m a man. You’re a sexy woman. Can you really blame me?” he asked, sliding her robes off
her shoulders. She shivered beneath his touches.

“I suppose I should cast a Silencing Charm,” she whispered as he lifted her up and sat her on
the desk.

“Good idea,” he mumbled against her neck.

Hermione moaned as Harry moved his hands against her. When she looked down at her left hand and
saw the engagement ring, she smiled in absolute pleasure. She would grant Harry one of his
fantasies because he was granting one of hers. She *would* be Mrs. Harry Potter.



11. Epilogue
------------

**IT’S ONLY PRETEND**

**Epilogue**

*Two weeks later*

Hermione sipped at her cup of coffee as she read the latest edition of their newspaper with a
smile on her lips. A picture of the Sevilles graced the front page, and they were all frowning,
shouting at someone—perhaps the photographer, perhaps the law enforcement. Their big attempt at
scamming Nathan Morgan and his company, Morgan’s Merchandising, was still being whispered about on
street corners in disapproving and shocked tones. She felt gladdened to know she had played a part
in their downfall. In her mind, wretched people didn’t deserve to triumph over decent, hard-working
people like the Morgans.

She folded the newspaper and put it on the side of her desk and sighed in content even though
her desk was covered in things to do. Her daily planner was open and full of notes and markings. A
stack of invitations that needed to be owled waited for her to ink the addresses on the front, and
a new assignment glared at her from the bottom of the pile.

A knock at the door pulled her attention away from her cluttered desk. “Come in,” she
called.

The door opened and Harry breezed in. She smiled instantly. “Ready for lunch?” he asked as he
closed the door.

“Is it lunch time already?” she wondered.

“According to my growling stomach it is.” He glanced down at the invitations. “I see you haven’t
sent these out yet,” he said, tapping the top of the stack.

She sighed. “Not yet. I just got off a Floo call with the caterer. He says it will cost 500 more
galleons if we really want the groom’s cake to be made out of chocolate frogs and cream
cheese—“

“—that’s what I want,” he stated.

“I *know*, love. I told him as much. He’s going to see that it’s perfect,” she said,
pushing her chair back from her desk. “So where are we going for lunch?”

Harry walked over to her and kissed her lips gently. “I was thinking about that little private
pub down on the corner of Feather and Moon.”

“Oh, I *love* that pub,” she said, encircling her arms around his neck.

“I know you do. I think Ron’s going to meet us. He’s bringing his new girl friend.”

“Wonderful,” she answered, kissing Harry.

Someone knocked at her office door. She and Harry pulled apart as she yelled, “Come in.”

Hermione gasped as Cynthia Morgan stepped into her office followed closely by Nathan.

“Good afternoon,” Cynthia said with a stern expression on her face.

Hermione tried to open her mouth and speak but she couldn’t get the words to form correctly in
her brain.

“Hi,” she finally muttered.

Nathan smiled at them. “Good to see you both again.”

“Nathan, we—“ Harry began but stopped when Cynthia held up her hand.

“I would like to speak first,” she said.

“Okay,” Hermione replied.

“I would like to say…” she paused, and then to Hermione’s relief, she smiled, “…to say thank
you.”

“Really?” Hermione squeaked.

“Yes, of course,” Nathan interjected, “you saved my company.”

“Well…we…I mean…we didn’t—“ Hermione babbled nervously.

“Enough,” Cynthia said, “you *did* save our company from those horrible Sevilles. If you
hadn’t left the potion, we wouldn’t have known about the falsified contract. And I don’t think
we’ve been properly introduced,” she held out her hand, “I’m Cynthia Morgan.”

Hermione smiled and gripped Cynthia’s hand. “I’m Hermione Granger.”

“Yes, we know,” Cynthia smiled. “And your handsome friend is Mr. Potter. Nice work hiding that
scar in Mexico. I thought you looked vaguely familiar and I must say, the whole Tom Cruise bit
really fooled me.”

“That was the idea,” Harry said playfully.

“Yes, I see now that it was,” Cynthia said.

Hermione gripped her hand and pleaded, “Please don’t be angry with us. The only thing we lied
about was our names—“

“—and your marriage,” Cynthia interrupted. “I have to admit when I found out the truth, that
piece of information made me very sad. Your relationship seemed very real.”

“Well,” Hermione said shyly, holding out her hand for Cynthia to see.

“You’re really engaged?” Cynthia asked excitedly. “Oh you’re a smart boy, Mr. Potter.”

“And lucky,” he added as Nathan laughed.

“We really are sorry for the lies,” Hermione said.

“I know, dear,” Cynthia admitted, “once Nathan and I found out the truth, we weren’t angry with
you at all. Like we said before, you saved our company and we are very grateful to you.”

“Do you really invent things, Miss Granger?” Nathan asked.

“Please, call me Hermione, and yes I do.”

“I’d like to see them sometime. See if any of it is marketable,” Nathan said.

“Oh, that’s really kind of you,” Hermione replied excitedly.

“And,” Cynthia added, “we’d like to take you both to dinner some time. To celebrate our good
fortunes.”

“Sounds like a great idea,” Hermione said.

“We’re just on our way to lunch. Would you like to join us?” Harry asked.

“We’d love to,” Nathan voiced.

Cynthia reached out and lifted the newspaper from Hermione’s desk. She watched the Sevilles yell
and curse from the front page. “This is a great picture,” she said, winking. “I might have to frame
it. And by the way, the article on the tainted merger was impressive.” She dropped the paper back
onto the desk.

“Thank you,” Hermione said as Cynthia linked arms with her and they walked out of the office.
Harry and Nathan followed.

* * * *

The following Saturday, Harry met Nathan for a friendly game of cards with some of Nathan’s
business associates while Hermione and Cynthia hurried off for an afternoon at the spa for old
times.

Seated under a swirling hair dryer, with a lime green substance caked on her face, Hermione
turned to look at Cynthia.

“What was that?” she asked.

“I said I could hardly believe it when Nathan told me he’d found out your real identities. When
he told me that you and Jonathan or *Harry* weren’t married, I was astonished.” She laughed.
“I even told him that I was certain that was incorrect, that there was no way the two of you were
just friends.”

Hermione smiled as best she could. “Well…we *were* just friends when we left. But things
changed.” Hermione looked down at the ring on her finger.

“I’ll say. You must have really done a smash-up job pretending with that boy for him to come
home and *want* to marry you. Of course, I would have knocked him around a bit if he
hadn’t.”

Hermione laughed again. “Harry likes to say we weren’t pretending, we were
*practicing*.”

Cynthia grinned and patted Hermione’s hand. “Good one. But honestly, dear, I think he was in
love with you long before he pretended to be your husband. Perhaps he just needed a friendly shove
to realize it.”

Hermione nodded her head and smiled as the swirling hair dryer stopped. “Perhaps. I suppose we
*both* needed a shove,” she admitted.

“And I’m glad I played a part in the shoving somehow. Of course, I didn’t realize I *was*
shoving, but it all worked out in the end…for us all.”

“Yes it most certainly did,” Hermione agreed.

“Now about this wedding, dear,” Cynthia continued as a wand hovered in front of her and changed
the goo on her face to a pulsing red color.

“Yes?”

“Tell me everything!”

Hermione giggled and began to tell Cynthia all about their wedding plans, from the lilies in her
bouquet to the candles that would illuminate the ceremony.

Hermione had enjoyed the game of pretend she’d played with Harry, but sitting with Cynthia,
talking about their future, she realized once again why the *truth* was so much more
appealing…especially a truth that involved her marrying Harry and spending the rest of her life
with him.

**THE END**