Chapter Three
Weddings and Birthdays
There was silence in that room situated above the bar of the grimiest pub in London. Not that you would have heard any noise or even found the location of the Leaky Cauldron and the room it contained unless you were a witch or a wizard. The witch and wizard who occupied the room were lying on the large four poster bed trying to rest although it was only eight in the evening. They had been awake and busy for the best part of sixteen hours but if Harry had to be honest it was the occurrence of the last ten minutes that had really tired him out, and left him emotionally drained. Hermione had kissed him …not a friendly peck on the cheek, or the tighter hug and kiss that followed a miraculous escape from imminent death; this had been a full blown, deeply felt, bit of mouth to mouth resuscitation.
He had two prior experiences with kisses like this, the first he remembered as wet, it was a one off, and not as pleasant as he had hoped. The second, well to be honest he was not considering a single kiss here, in that two weeks with Ginny there were quite a lot he could bring to mind, and they were much closer to what the boys in his dormitory at Hogwarts had led him to expect. Every time he had kissed Ginny he had felt his senses soar, she was alive with passion, and that perfume, the scent he had detected in the Amortentia fumes. Harry drew in a deep breath as his mind relived the effect, and then he stopped opened his eyes to look for the person he knew must have arrived in the room for the same scent was there again, but save for himself and Hermione the room was empty. Hermione … oh Hermione! His mind returned to the comparison of the kisses, what could he say, there was a longing as if this particular kiss had waited just for this particular moment to burst forth, a desperation that if this was the only kiss that ever there was, neither of the participants would want for another, and an affirmation that they were connected by the deepest kind of love. Harry sniffed the air, for that was not all that was hidden in that kiss, the scent that had driven him into Ginny's arms was still there.
"Hermione?" he whispered.
"Umm, what?" came the muffled reply from the sleepy girl by his side.
"What is that lovely perfume?" he wasn't sure what answer he really wanted.
"Oh… it's called 'Dream Flowers' Mrs Weasley gets it for us. From a friend of hers that has a small shop. Why?"
"Uhh…" Harry stalled. 'Us, who's us?' came to mind while he tried to think up a good reason, "I like it, that's all." he said lamely.
"That's nice to know," Hermione murmured, sleep catching up with her again. "I've used it from time to time since our second year, Ginny introduced me to it …she uses it as well." Hermione yawned and stretched out her arms, finally wrapping them around something convenient which happened to be Harry. "Strange you've never noticed it before."
"Yeh," said Harry breathing deeply of the scent of 'Dream Flowers' and giving the sleeping witch a kiss on the top of her head. "Strange."
* * *
They had only meant to get a few hours rest but the sun was poking its head above the horizon by the time they woke. Hermione surfaced first and looking at Harry realised that for the second night following she had slept in the same bed with a boy that was not even supposed to be her boyfriend. She wondered briefly what her mother would say if she knew, she'd be OK, and Dad?... well Dad was another matter. As she thought about her parents it became increasingly clear to her that there was one thing she needed to do before very long, she needed to pay them a visit. However that particular trip was not the first thing on the agenda. She desperately wanted to see Bill and Fleur married and somehow she needed to persuade Harry that he did as well. So how was she to do that and also avoid seeing Ron? For she had remembered a rather nasty little charm which would suit him just right, and at the moment she wasn't sure she would be able to hold herself in check.
She climbed off the bed and traipsed over to the small bathroom to freshen up, it was very basic, but she did her best while she pondered her problems. She heard Harry stirring and decided to go with a plan that had just come to her, she wasn't hopeful of success but then …. 'If you didn't try….' Marching back into the main room she was greeted by a very dishevelled Harry levering himself off the bed covers, and as she opened her mouth to speak, Harry said. "Morning Hermione," he yawned, "I was just wondering," he continued before she had time to reply and launch into her prepared speech, "we really ought to try to get to Bill and Fleur's wedding somehow, but if you don't mind I would rather not bump into Ron if we can avoid it."
"Uhh…OK Harry if that is what you want," she replied, hastily swallowing all her persuasive reasoning now she didn't need it. "We will have to face him eventually though," she crossed her fingers behind her back hoping she wasn't pushing her luck.
"Yes, I know, but not yet," Harry said, and Hermione gave a quiet sigh of relief. "So breakfast first then we'll work out what to do." he suggested.
"Right, but you are going to make yourself presentable, aren't you?" she asked.
Harry looked at himself in the mirror, he was a bit of a mess, then as he picked up the brush to do his hair, he remembered seeing something else in that mirror last night. She was standing just behind him and she was looking in the mirror as well.
"Hermione?" He gazed at her reflection that was similarly transfixed on his.
"Yes Harry," her reply was quiet and her eyes suddenly fell to look at her hands.
"About last night?" he watched as her hands clenched her knuckles turning white.
"Yes Harry," she whispered.
"Thank you," and her eyes lifted again, and he could see them shine.
"You didn't mind?" she asked as he turned toward her.
"No, it was …wonderful." and he leaned towards her and kissed her gently, right on the edge of her mouth.
* * *
Breakfast was a lazy affair; the wedding was set for eleven o'clock so they had plenty of time. They decided to apparate to the Burrow and then hide under Harry's cloak until they could safely reveal themselves, stay for the ceremony and then leave again. Then Hermione told Harry she wanted to visit her parents as soon as they could, so he suggested that when they left the Burrow that was where they should go. So with their day planned, they returned to their room to make themselves as smart as circumstances would allow. A few spells and charms and rumpled robes gave the appearance of being clean, and wayward hair was as under control as well as it ever was. Harry's senses reeled as Hermione produced a small bottle and applied a scent that he knew he would never be able to ignore again. Hand in hand they pictured themselves standing by the log bench next to the stream that flowed passed the Burrow then with a faint CRACK they were there.
The garden of the Burrow was hung about with baskets of flowers and bunting. It made a very festive sight, and there were lots of people milling around while the final preparations were being made. Harry and Hermione retired under the cloak and sat on the bench watching from a distance; then they started as voices approached their hiding place from the direction of the fields behind them. Harry recognised the speakers as Bill and Charlie and as they passed them by he lifted the cloak to reveal their presence.
"Harry, Hermione." Charlie almost shouted, then at a sign from Harry to keep his voice down, he continued in a quieter tone, "We didn't think either of you would be here today after what little Ron has been up to." He grinned apologetically at Hermione.
"Well as far as most are concerned we aren't," said Harry, he looked at Bill who was obviously not fully recovered from his injuries, "but there are some members of your family we felt we couldn't let down." He smiled at the oldest Weasley.
Bill gave them a grin back, "Thanks Hermione, Harry I know that Fleur will be pleased to know that you are here in body and spirit even if not in full view and I am very grateful." He nodded toward the garden. "You will be able to get closer once the proceedings start, Ron has some official duties so he cannot leave the main party. Please come down and watch, both Fleur and I would love to know that you saw it all."
"We certainly will," said Hermione, and putting her arms around Bill's neck kissed him twice. "One for you and one to give to Fleur," she whispered in his ear.
Harry grabbed Bill's hand and shook it. "You can give her a kiss from me too Bill, but if you don't mind I won't give you one to carry for me, I am sure you can find a spare one."
"Always have a few Harry …and Harry," Bill hung on to his hand and gave him a very steady look, "if you ever need our help, don't ever be afraid to ask. The Weasleys are with you, yes, even prat features, he is aware on several levels that he has made a stinking great fool of himself. Sometime find it in your heart to forgive him," he glanced at Hermione, "both of you."
Hidden under the cloak again Harry and Hermione watched Bill and Charlie pass through the garden gate purposely leaving it open. Then as their return was noticed by the gathering throng it appeared that all was in place and the wedding was ready to commence.
Harry had never attended a wedding before, muggle or wizard so he was unsure as to the order of service, he was vaguely aware of the muggle proceedings, but Hermione had obviously read up on the subject and began in low tones to talk him through it. As the wedding ceremony started the pair crept through the garden gate and picked two chairs in the very back row partly hidden from the rest of the gathering by a small tree. Harry removed the cloak and he and Hermione sat un-noticed by most of those present as Bill and Fleur exchanged their magical vows and sealed their future in a bond breakable only by death. Harry had to admit that he was impressed by the commitment the newly weds had made to each other, you really had to be in love to take things that far, he was well aware that muggle promises made on such occasions were not regarded in the same light and sadly were much more easily broken. He turned slightly and was about to mention to Hermione that he doubted that he would ever find someone he could give that promise to, when he saw in his first glance, that her eyes were shining brightly, that there was an almost breathless expression on her face, and that her cheeks were flushed with the excitement of it all; he gulped, and thought better of it.
It was over far too quickly, as these happy occasions often are, Bill and Fleur were passing amongst the guests shaking hands and bestowing kisses as appropriate. The main wedding party was breaking up and Mr and Mrs Weasley stepped aside to talk to the Member of the Wizengamont who had carried out the office that really should have been Dumbledore's. Ron standing next to them turned to have his first look at the congregation and there standing in the very back row he could see his best friends; at least he hoped they were still his best friends. He could see that they were both staring at him, and he raised his arm to wave, when with a CRACK they apparated.
Ron's arm dropped to his side and he fixed his gaze on the spot where Harry and Hermione had vanished. Ginny standing by his side looked up at her tall brother, she could see the upset in his eyes and the ragged breath he drew told her that the sorrow was deep and genuine.
"I've really buggered this up, haven't I Gin?" He said, still staring at the same empty spot.
What could she say but, "Yes." Now he looked down at her, "but it is Harry and Hermione, give them time," she said encouragingly. "They know everything that happened by now …I hope. You'll get your chance to say you are sorry; just make sure you don't bugger that up as well."
* * *
The garden that Harry appeared in was exactly the same as the one Hermione had shown him in a photograph earlier that morning, he smiled at least he had his three D's of apparation off pat now, and of course as he expected Hermione was standing by his side. "Perhaps apparation does have its uses," admitted Harry, "but I think flying is more fun."
"That, Mr Potter is a matter of opinion," said Hermione with a laugh, "it really does nothing for my hair." She looked thoughtfully at the strands of her long brown hair that had unconsciously come into her hand. "Umm, thinking of hair….. ," then the back door of the house opened and a tall slightly balding man emerged. He was dressed for gardening in an old cotton jacket, and well used trousers tucked into his Wellington boots. "DAD!" cried Hermione, and all other thoughts pushed aside rushed over the lawn to throw herself in her father's outstretched arms.
Harry couldn't quite hear the exchange between father and daughter but caught an admonishing "Daa…d! Hermione remember?" from the young witch, and a "Sorry love forgot," from her father, that gave Harry the impression that whatever he had forgotten was done purely to get the rise from his daughter.
Mr. Granger was looking over Hermione's shoulder at the young man standing in the middle of his lawn. "So this is Ron is it?" he said in a quite aside.
Hermione held on to her father stopping him from rushing up and greeting 'Ron'. "Err… no actually Dad, this is Harry."
"Oh, what happened to the Ron you told us all about?" asked Mr Granger, in a voice that just reached Harry's ears.
"Long story," said Hermione succinctly.
"So, Harry then," said Mr Granger, advancing to Harry and holding out his hand, "pleased to meet you." Then in mid-shake he stopped as a thought obviously made a connection. "Not the Harry …Harry Potter?"
"Yes sir pleased to meet you too," said Harry warmly.
"Well," said the older man, "rather surprised we haven't seen you before young man," Harry gave him a quizzical look. "From the way Hermione has spoken about you," he explained, smiling at Harry and receiving a jab in the arm from his daughter into the bargain. "You better both come in," he said opening the back door again, "your mum will be back soon she's just popped out to get some milk."
Harry watched the events of the rest of that day with a growing conviction and he decided that, for all his adventures and his magical abilities, this was what he was really missing out on. He would have swapped everything to be able to have a normal family like Hermione's, and as he sat there observing the little interactions between daughter and parents he began to feel that tightness in his throat and mistiness in his eyes. He fought the feelings as hard as he could because he didn't want to take anything away from the reunion of the three on the couch opposite, but his efforts were not un-noticed.
Hermione shot off the couch and crossed the few steps that separated them in an instant. "Oh Harry, and he found himself enveloped in a mass of brown wavy hair and a pair of arms and that wonderful scent of 'Dream Flowers', "I can't believe I have been so selfish, I'm sorry," and in a repeat of the night before her lips met his and Harry was carried away on an overwhelming feeling of being loved. That was the final catalyst, and as the reaction reached fulfilment Harry couldn't help himself and he returned the embrace and the emotion that was washing over him. Hermione's parents on the other side of the room watched the couple, Harry sitting Hermione kneeling in front of him, their arms entwined. David and Natalie Granger looked at each other, even though they were muggles there was no hiding the intensity of the emotions in that kiss and they felt that they could almost have reached out and touched it, both parents rolled their eyes and smiled.
For the next few days Harry and Hermione acted as any other teenagers, well muggle ones anyway. They walked through the town, Hermione liked the shops, Harry liked the company, they went to the cinema and visited Hermione's favourite restaurant for a meal. Going back into the muggle world was almost as strange for them now as it was when they entered the wizarding one for the first time all those years ago. It was as close to a holiday as either of them were going to get for a while.
On the last day of July Harry woke and reminded himself where he was. He did this every morning because the light airy room he was using was so unlike anything he had ever slept in before; he could almost forget who he was and what he had to do…almost, but not quite. Then at the sound of Mrs Granger calling to him and to Hermione, he dragged himself out of his bed. He was down in five minutes but Hermione had beaten him to it. She was standing with her parents by the breakfast table and on the table apart from the toast and marmalade was a large flat cardboard box.
"Happy Birthday Harry!" all three chorused together.
Hermione came around to his side of the table and repeated the salutation and kissed him quickly on the cheek. She picked up the box and held it out for him. "It's for you, from all three of us," her eyes were shining with excitement, "I hope you like it."
Harry took the box from her and laying it back on the table began to open it. He pulled back the tissue paper he encountered once the lid of the box was off and exposed a jacket. It was black, the dull surface which looked rather like leather was covered with very fine scales; it was so soft and supple. He slowly lifted the garment out and found that it wasn't just a jacket, it was a full length coat, that was so light it could have been made of cotton, but in fact it was made of dragon hide. He slipped his arms into the coat and it hung from his shoulders several sizes too big, "Thanks," he said "Uhh …I think…"
"Just wait Harry, count to ten," said Hermione hiding a giggle.
By the time he had reached five the coat had begun to shrink by the time he had reached ten it was a perfect fit.
"Thank goodness for that!" sighed Mr Granger, "Hermione said it would work, but I must admit that is the first time I have ever seen anything advertised as 'One Size Fits All' actually do it."
Harry was lost for words, dragon hide was expensive at the best of times but reactive hide like this was very rare. He knew the sentiment behind the gift was Hermione's but he was well aware that her parents had paid for it. "I don't know what to say." came out eventually. "Gosh it's great, no one has ever…" his words tailed off.
"It's OK Harry we understand," said Mrs Granger, "Hermione has talked to us about what may come, and she said that a coat like this would give you some extra protection, money is a small thing when a life is at stake," she turned and opened the kitchen cupboard behind her. "So," she wrestled with something Harry could not see, "if you don't mind we thought Hermione ought to have one too," and a second identical box was revealed. Hermione was obviously as unaware of her present as Harry had been about his, and little show of emotion was in order.
As expected the coat fitted her as well as Harry's fitted him, actually, he thought, slightly better. For once Hermione had gained control of her hair setting it outside the flared collar that when turned up would give good protection to the back of her neck, the coat shrank and moulded itself to Hermione's form showing off the attributes she had that Harry didn't possess.
With breakfast finished Mr and Mrs Granger bade their farewells and left for work, as she climbed into the car Natalie Granger gave her daughter a look and a smile and nodded her head.
"Do your mum and dad really understand what we are up against?" asked Harry as the car disappeared down the drive.
"Oh yes, I spoke to them the other day when you were in bed," she looked him square in the eyes, "I didn't pull any punches."
"And they are OK with it?" Harry surprise was evident.
"No but they know the consequences if we fail, not just to our world, but to theirs as well." Hermione put her hands on Harry's shoulders holding him at arms length; she absently felt the soft smoothness of the dragon hide in her hands, "They want us both to live and they know that if we fight together then our chances of surviving are better. They don't like it but they accept the way things are." She walked back into the kitchen stopping in the hall to twirl round in front of the mirror watching the flare and flow of the dragon coat as she spun. "You know even a muggle would think these coats were pretty cool," then there was something in her reflection that made he scowl. "Have you any plans for this morning?" Hermione asked.
"Err… no," Harry said after a moments thought, "I could try and finish that book I started at the Leaky Cauldron, but I might just watch a bit of telly," he laughed at her rolling eyes.
"Mindless drivel, Harry, that's all you see there," she told him, "still whatever. There is something I need to do, I may be gone a couple of hours."
"Oh OK, do you want me to tag along?" he offered.
"No its fine I'll manage," and with that she grabbed her purse and headed for the door.
"Coat, Hermione." said Harry reminding her she was still wearing the magical item.
"I think I'll take it with me and make some of the local lads jealous," she laughed throwing out her chest and making the dragon hide and Harry give a little squeak. "See you later."
It was in fact so much later that Harry had finished the book and then dropped off to sleep watching the television, Hermione was right, it was mindless drivel. He woke to the sound of her key in the door and lazily opened his eyes then he shot to his feet as if someone had put twenty thousand volts through him.
"Merlin Hermione, what have you done!" for he hardly recognised the young woman in front of him. Her long bushy, wavy brown hair was gone, well not all of it, but most of it, and what remained contained a light curl and fell in waves to touch her shoulders. All the heaviness that had marked her hair was replaced by a cascade of curls that bounced and shimmered in the light. The natural highlights that had always made her hair shine were enhanced and now it seemed to Harry that it sparkled.
"Don't you like it?" Hermione said quietly her lower lip protruding just a little.
"It's… It's… Amazing," said Harry in awe. The change in her appearance at the tri-wizard ball that had pulled at his heart was nothing compared to what he was experiencing now. "Your… Your… Your…" his seventeen year old head got in the way of his seventeen year old heart.
"Yes?" Hermione encouraged.
"Beautiful," he said at last.
Hermione smiled, "Well done."
Hermione's change of appearance was something else she had obviously talked to her parents about without including Harry, not that he thought he had any right to know what was on her mind, but he was glad she had at least spoken to them. Harry had too many memories of hair trauma from his childhood, mainly because his would grow back over night when it was cut much to the annoyance of Uncle Vernon. He wondered if Hermione's would act in the same way until it dawned on him that he was the one who had made his hair re-grow, and as Hermione was happy with her change it stayed. Her mother accepted it, but gave a little sigh on seeing another little bit of her daughter growing up; her father found it very amusing and whispered something to Hermione who rounded on him with "Don't you dare!" which set him off in another fit of giggles.
The reason for the change was fairly obvious to Harry, ease of maintenance. They could find themselves in all sorts of situations in the future and this new look would be much easier to manage. He completely discounted the thought that she might want to look quite different in his eyes, not like the old Hermione at all, not like the Hermione that was his best friend, not like the Hermione who could only be his best friend, not like the Hermione that his other best friend might have been in love with. Whatever the reason by the end of that first day Harry had become used to the difference in her, and the difference was not merely the physical change, she had as her mother had surmised, thrown off the last vestiges of being a child, and Harry liked it, but he knew there were others who would not.
* * *
The end of their respite with the Grangers came with the arrival of two letters one addressed to Hermione and one to Harry, both from Hogwarts. The writing on the outside was easily recognisable; six years under her tutelage enabled them to spot Professor McGonagall's script with no bother. Hermione's letter contained all the standard information they received every year, but there was one additional sheet which initially caused her much joy but ultimately much consternation.
"Schools on again it seems," she said as she scanned through the first few pages, then as she reached the additional sheet, "Oh my!" Harry thought she looked as happy as he had ever seen her, "I've made Head Girl,"
"That's great Hermione," Harry said shakily, for as she had glanced through the usual bumf, Harry had opened his letter and read the terse words on the single sheet of parchment. He stared at the few lines it was not so much what they said but the way they said it and who had written it, and he felt his anger growing.
Thinking that Harry did not sound as happy for her as he should be, she looked at him. She could see him shaking and she could see the knuckles of the hand that was gripping the single sheet of parchment turn as white as the page itself.
"Merlin Harry, what's wrong?"
He thrust the parchment at her "Here read it for yourself," he growled. Hermione looked at the over neat script.
Dear Mr Potter,
This is to inform you that following the occurrences at the school last year, and due to your recalcitrant attitude toward the official ministry line, the committee investigating the advisability of allowing Hogwarts to continue operating has reached the following conclusions.
That Hogwarts will be allowed to reopen this September, providing that,
"Harry they can't do this." Hermione wailed.
"They can and they have," said Harry, "but that's not the worst look who signed it."
'Yours sincerely, Delores P. Umbridge.
Chairwitch of the council of ministry officials overseeing the continued operation of Hogwarts School.'
The sight of Umbridge's name at the end of the letter sent Hermione into a tirade of abuse which hardly slackened when her father stuck his head around the door to see what all the shouting was about. After his strategic withdrawal, with an announcement that he was off to fetch his wife, Hermione calmed herself enough to see additional words at the very bottom of the page written in McGonagall's hand. As she pushed the parchment back to Harry to read what the Headmistress had written she caught sight of his face, he may have been angry before but now his expression was one of shocked amusement.
"Gee Hermione," he said in awe of the language she had used, "remind me never to upset you." Then he gave her a concerned look, "You didn't yell at Ron like that did you?"
"No," she lied, with a little smile, "it was worse. Come on what's McGonagall got to say for herself."
Harry squinted at the tiny writing. "It says 'Sorry Harry, not my decision and we will find a way. Please come to see me as soon as possible.' She signs it MM."
"Well," said Hermione, "at least that is something."
As there was no reason for them to leave immediately they decided that they would take the time to get themselves organised and go early the next morning. This gave them one last evening with Hermione's parents and found the four of them divided out, the boys in the garden and the girls in the back lounge. Harry sitting at the picnic table with Mr. Granger was actually watching Hermione and her mum in the house through the large glass patio doors where they were talking together on the couch. Mrs. Granger would ask her daughter something and Harry could see as Hermione launched into a long winded but well reasoned response.
David Granger followed Harry's gaze with his own. If wizard boys were the same as muggle ones he knew exactly what was going through Harry's mind. "There not always easy to understand you know Harry," said Mr. Granger knowledgeably.
"Sorry Sir," said Harry his attention was still in the lounge.
"Women Harry, not always easy to understand," he repeated.
"It's not just women, I don't think I have ever understood girls either," admitted Harry, with a sigh.
"Good stance," said David Granger laughing, "I'd hang on to it if I were you."
"Yes Sir" Harry assured him. There was silence on that warm summer evening as the sun slowly descended and the shadows grew.
"Do you love her Harry?" the question came out of the blue, but strangely Harry wasn't disturbed by it.
"Hermione?" Harry asked, Mr Granger nodded, "Of course I do." His gaze turned back to the subject of their conversation. "If by dying I could keep her safe then the sacrifice would be worth it. If she was in mortal danger then I would kill to protect her. Her stability is all that keeps me from flying apart, my greatest wish is to keep her out of harms way but I can't. I know that without her I will fail, with her and we have a chance. Perhaps it's a funny sort of love Mr. Granger but it's all I have."
"Good enough son, that's good enough for me." At that moment, in his heart, David Granger gave his only daughter to the young man at his side.
In the lounge the conversation was drawing to a close as well. "I don't want to disappoint you mum," Hermione was saying, "but there is no way I am going to leave him to cope on his own."
"You will never disappoint me whatever you do, I know you will do the right thing." Mother drew daughter into a tight embrace and Hermione sighed because she had already made up her mind, she knew exactly what she was going to do.
Back out in the garden a light breeze was rustling the leaves in the trees; Mr. Granger gave an involuntary shiver. "Come on lad let's go in," he suggested, "it's beginning to get a little chilly," but Harry didn't rise immediately, and he placed a restraining hand on the older man's arm.
"Do you mind if I ask, but has Hermione ever had a nickname?" whispered Harry.
"Err …well yes, as a matter of fact she has. Not for general use you understand, one of those father daughter things, a bit silly really." David Granger answered in a conspiratorial whisper.
"It wasn't Herms, was it?" asked Harry.
"Good God no, she has always hated people mucking about with her name…. You didn't?" he said in horror.
"Oh no, but Ron did." said Harry.
"Is that why there is no Ron?" Harry shook his head. "No can't be as simple as that, Fizzy said it was a long story." said Mr. Granger slyly answering his own question.
"Fizzy?" said Harry.
"Partly the hair, you know frizzy," he gave Harry a grin, "but mainly the way she was when she was much younger, bubbly and full of life, still is sometimes, when her head isn't stuck in a book," said Mr Granger wistfully, thinking away the years. "I hope she gets the chance to be like that again." Harry felt a strange affinity with the older man as he saw a single tear roll unashamedly down his cheek. "So now you know one of her most closely guarded secrets, and please for my sake remember that when it comes to it you never reveal your sources, even under torture."
* * *