A/N: This is it! Thank you so much to those who've reviewed and read! Even if I don't reply to every single review (like I thought I was going to have time to), I do appreciate your kind words, encouragement and enthusiasm. There is a sequel to this called Sink or Swim which will be posted sometime soon. Unlike this one and Lessons it's not complete so after a certain point the updates may be slower. Again, thank you all so much!!
Hermione sighed wistfully, taking in the beautiful ocean spread out before her. She was lying on a beach towel, propped up by her elbows, her legs stretched out and crossed in front of her. Every once in a while she would reach up to absently rub her stomach and glance over at Harry who lay next to her on his stomach, his head resting on his folded arms. "Harry," she finally murmured. When she received no response, she poked his ribs with a pointy finger.
He moaned and muttered incoherently, half asleep.
"Harry. Are you awake?"
"I am now." He shifted on his towel and turned his head to squint up at her. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing. Maybe. Aren't you sad this is our last day here?"
Harry grunted softly. "A little. Why?"
"Well, we've been having so much fun this past week, it seems like we can't just up and leave in the middle of it."
"We'd have to go home sometime otherwise it'd get boring and then we'd need a holiday from our holiday," Harry replied rolling onto his side and propping himself up on his elbow to look up at her. "Why so melancholy?"
Hermione was quiet a moment before shaking herself out of whatever had come over her. Goodness, that had come out of nowhere. "I'm not entirely certain," she replied hesitantly. She smiled down at him, restored to her former cheer. "I'm fine though, honestly."
Reassured, Harry grinned and glanced at his watch. "We should probably get going if we're going to get ready for our reservations."
They stood and began packing away their towels, suntan lotion, and whatever else they'd brought with them when Hermione paused, her eye caught by something familiar a little way down the beach. Why does that look familiar? "Harry. Is that my hat?"
Harry paled and whipped his head to look where she was pointing. "No, I don't think so. It's probably just some debris, let's get going," he said hurriedly, grabbing her hand and pulling her up toward the hotel.
"No, Harry, it is my hat!" She tugged on his hand to stop him.
She was about to walk over to retrieve the object she'd grown oddly attached to so quickly, but a dog off his leash bound up to the hat and sniffed around it. The dog approached warily, sniffing closer to the brim sticking out of where it was half buried under the sand then yelped and ran away. "And there is your proof. The hat is a beast, pets flee before it. Now let's get ready for our dinner," Harry said tugging on Hermione's hand back up the beach.
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Harry smoothed down his dress robes for what seemed like the fiftieth time that night, shifting uncomfortably in front of the free standing full length mirror in the corner of the hotel room. He took a deep breath and looked himself over again. "Ok Potter, you can do this," he told himself softly. "You survived a dragon, at least seven attempts on your life, Voldemort, N.E.W.T's and Hermione's french toast. You can survive this." If only his stomach would settle down and stop acting like it did after Hermione's french toast, he'd be a better man.
"Sod it, Ron was right. I will need a drink." He glanced over at the bathroom door and pulled out a small airline bottle of Firewhisky from its carefully hidden spot under his swimming trunks, jeans and t-shirts. He glanced over at the closed door again and took a bracing swig, draining the contents. There was only about one and a half shots in the bottle, but it was enough to at least smooth out his jitteriness.
He returned to the mirror smoothed his robes one more time and stepped out onto the balcony. His eye was immediately drawn to the Dog Star and he grinned up at it. The star seemed to wink at him and Harry realized he really hadn't needed to drink that firewhiskey after all.
"Whew! Getting the festivities started a little early Mr. Potter?" Hermione asked, stepping up next to him and wrapping an arm loosely around his waist. She grinned up at him and Harry smiled back, wrapping an arm loosely around her shoulders, careful not to mess up her hair.
"Just trying to get a head start on you since you have a tendency to drink me under the table," Harry teased.
Hermione gave him a wry glance. "You are talking to me right?"
Harry chuckled and turned to look at Hermione fully. Her dress was demure, but seductive in a dark blood red with black beading that enhanced her golden tan and the blonde highlights coming out in her hair. Her hair she had tamed with Sleekezy's to fall in ringlets down her back. It was swept out of her face with two diamond clips Harry had given her for a birthday present a couple of years ago. Other than some very subtle make-up she wore no other adornment or enhancement. She was a vision. "You look wonderful," he breathed softly, running his hands down her arms and lifting her fingers to his lips.
Hermione blushed and looked him over. He looked handsome despite unconsciously radiating discomfort in his formal attire. She reached up and straightened his bow tie. "Let's go before we miss our reservations," she murmured, giving his lips a soft peck.
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The restaurant was posh. Very posh. So posh that wizards who could afford it portkeyed from Australia and New Zealand to attend it and reservations had at least a year wait. Harry was lucky enough to have only a six month wait and that was even pulling strings, using, with a cringe, his name. But it was worth it for Hermione.
They were seated out on the back deck over looking the bay and the quarter moon that hung low in the sky. The reflected moonlight looked like strung pearls across the gently moving water, the stars shining in all their brilliance. The deck was charmed so that the light coming from the restaurant did not dim the show in the sky.
They had to wait only a few moments before the waiter served the first course. Harry had called ahead to pre-order their wine and Hermione's favorite appetizer. She was touched that Harry remembered that she loved this dish and that it reminded her of her vacations to France with her parents. She happily yet daintily ate her dish, closing her eyes every few moments in bliss. "This is even better than the French escargot!" she sighed, taking a sip of her water.
Harry looked dubiously at the sauce drenched lumps on his plate. It wasn't that he wasn't adventurous . . . ok, it was. Thankfully the snails weren't in their shells. Harry didn't think he could handle it if they were. The sauce smelled overwhelmingly of garlic, but when he poked the lumps with his fork, they gave a bit of a springy resistance. Harry glanced over at Hermione who was watching him with an amused twinkle in her eye and that hardened his resolve. He straightened in his seat, speared a sauce laden lump and popped it in his mouth.
Hermione looked at him with a questioning raised eyebrow. Harry shrugged in reply. The sauce tasted like it smelled. The experience wasn't half bad until he bit into the escargot. A slow grin stole across Hermione's lips as Harry's face turned slowly green. It was chewy, like a clam and he hated clams. He quickly chewed what he had in his mouth and swallowed it nearly whole. "Yum!" he grinned sipping gratefully from his white wine.
Hermione giggled softly. "If you don't like it you don't have to eat it."
"Oh thank Merlin," Harry murmured setting his appetizer fork down on the plate. "But you enjoyed them."
"I did. They were excellent," she smiled happily back.
The waiter's face remained blank while he removed their plates, but Harry could tell he was disapproving of the remaining escargot left on Harry's plate. They were served a mild tasting, almost bland sorbet to cleanse their pallet, then a delicate broth, perfect for the warm weather. The conversation between the couple was as light as their soup and it wasn't long until their main course, oysters for Harry and filet mignon for Hermione was served.
It was almost time. He felt a bit cold all over and his hands shook slightly. He popped open an oyster shell, charmed to open at the flick of his fork in the crease. He glanced around for a moment and upon finding no one looking their way, took the shell and let the meat slide into his mouth. "You lose the juices with a fork," he explained at Hermione's raised eyebrow. "There's no dainty way to properly eat oysters. Do you want one?"
"Oysters are an aphrodisiac you know," Hermione said, accepting a closed shell over the table.
Harry waggled his eyebrows at her salaciously. "Why do you think I ordered them?"
"So the great Harry Potter needs help getting it up or am I not . . . stimulating enough?" Hermione teased with a grin.
"Neither. But it wouldn't hurt to add some enhancement to what I plan on doing when we get back to our hotel," he winked back at her with a cocky grin.
"In that case," Hermione replied placing the oyster on her plate. She inserted the tines of her fork in the crease, but the oyster refused to open as easily as Harry's had. She frowned and glanced up at Harry. "The charm must've worn off."
"Bollocks," Harry muttered. "Here, let me try."
He took a firm hold of the oyster and jammed his knife in the crease and heaved. His face was growing red with exertion when the oyster popped open and the contents inside shot out, bounced on the table with a delicate metallic ping and sailed over the torso high slatted fence that surrounded the patio. Harry yelled a curse that had many diners turning their heads with snooty scowls and leapt after the object, nearly upsetting the table in his haste.
Whispering expletives under his breath, Harry bent over the fence and looked down. The bay lapped gently at the wood support beams under the deck. To his left a wooden staircase lead down to a small dock which remained empty, but could easily support a small yacht for the wizards who wished to dine on their boats and not bother with the crowds. Harry scanned the dark waters about twenty feet below, feeling that hope was lost until he spied a glint on the little lip of deck just beyond the fence. "Thank Merlin," he sighed, sagging with relief. Maybe the night was saved.
"Harry are you all right?" Hermione asked worriedly behind him.
"I'm fine. I'll just be a minute," he grinned over his shoulder at her. "Just sit there and be pretty."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Honestly."
Harry leaned over the railing, reaching for the ring. It lay tantalizingly just out of reach of his fingers. "Just a bit more," he whispered, shifting forward on the railing so that only the tips of his toes were touching the deck floor.
"Harry, be careful," Hermione called out.
"I'll be fine," he called back, shifting just a bit more. His fingers had just grazed the metal on the ring when his back end was no longer able to balance out his torso and he tipped arse over tit into the bay below.
"Harry!" Hermione yelped rushing to the fence and leaning over.
"I'm ok!" he called out from below, treading water a bit before swimming over to the nearby floating pier.
Hermione sighed and shook her head. "Oh honestly," she muttered, kneeling down. She reached her slender fingers under the three inch gap between the deck and the bottom of the fence and pulled out the ring. "He's fine, don't worry," she said waving off the waiters who came running out to help. They retreated back into the restaurant reluctantly. None of the other diners on the deck even bothered to glance her way, so engrossed were they in their meal and conversation.
Harry was pulling himself out of the water by the time Hermione trotted down the stairs to the pier. He flopped out onto the bobbing structure, laying on his back out of breath. Swimming in dress robes was harder work than it seemed.
"Harry, are you all right?" Hermione asked kneeling down at his head and leaning over to look him in the eye.
He looked up at her. "Positively fine. Only my ego's bruised."
She leaned down and gave him a sweet upside down kiss. "Salty."
"Nice view."
"Harry."
"What?"
"I believe you dropped this." She held out the beautiful diamond ring. The setting was simple, yet elegant, the stone set between two smaller diamonds on a white gold band.
"Why Miss Granger! Are you proposing?" Harry asked, clapping a hand to his heart with a squelch.
"Only if you promise to accept," she grinned wryly.
"Then my answer is yes, but only if you accept my proposal."
"Then my answer is yes. Would you care to wear the ring?"
"I would, but it isn't my size. Perhaps you should wear it." He plucked it out of her hands and slipped it onto her ring finger on her left hand. "Perfect."
"Indeed." She stood and moved around so that she knelt next to his arm and leaned down to kiss him properly. "I love you."
"I love you too."
"Harry."
"Yes?"
"I'm pregnant."
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