Life Begins at 40
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe and all the characters in it belong to J.K. Rowling. This story is a work of imagination and is directed solely at readers of this website. No infringement of any rights is intended and no criticism of J.K. Rowling or her work should be considered to be stated or implied.
Part 1. Preparation
Harry Potter was feeling nervous. "There's nothing to worry about", he scolded himself for the umpteenth time. "You're just having dinner with a friend."
While this was undoubtedly true, it didn't seem to help very much. Harry looked critically at his image reflected in the mirror of his room at the Leaky Cauldron. The suit and tie seemed unnatural to him. Although he held an important position in the Ministry, he always liked to be prepared for action and so rarely dressed formally for work. His social life, such as it had been in recent years, was also generally suited to more casual clothes. He licked the fingers of his right hand and tried unsuccessfully to paste a loose strand of his unruly black hair back into place. As usual, as soon as he released the pressure the hair sprang back into its former position. He adjusted his tie and ran his fingers around the inside of his shirt collar. It felt so tight. He was sure that he was putting on weight, even though most people would still describe him as slim; his build was certainly nothing like the skinny, emaciated youngster that he had once been. However, he just didn't get enough chance to exercise any more. His job and family demands saw to that.
Harry was due to meet Hermione Granger, his second eldest friend, in about three quarters of an hour. They had become firm friends just a few short months after he had first met her and Ron Weasley on the train to Hogwarts. Although he initially enjoyed Ron's company more, Harry had to admit that Hermione's influence had grown quickly and by the time they reached their fourth year he really thought of Hermione as his chief friend and confidante, even though he still depended on Ron for male camaraderie.
Hermione had done so much for him over the years. It was Hermione who researched the background to the Philosopher's Stone; Hermione who solved the riddle of the Chamber of Secrets; Hermione who helped him to rescue Sirius from the Dementor's kiss; Hermione who believed him when everyone else turned against him over the Triwizard Tournament; Hermione who proposed Dumbledore's army and helped him get through his most depressing year at Hogwarts; Hermione who warned him against using the potions book of the Half Blood Prince; and Hermione who had been with him every step of the way in the hunt for the horcruxes that finally lead to the vanquishing of Voldermort. In fact, it was no exaggeration to say that without Hermione Granger, Harry would have probably been dead or in despair a long time ago. Now, he hardly ever saw Hermione alone. It was always him with Ginny and Hermione with Ron and some of the kids were generally there too. They snatched brief moments of private conversation but he was always very aware of Ginny's close attention and his current relationship with Hermione just wasn't the same as the time, all those years ago, when they virtually seemed able to predict what the other was thinking.
Harry peered at his reflection again. It didn't get any better. At 40 years of age, Harry didn't think that time had been very kind to him. It wasn't really surprising with his malnourished and abusive early upbringing and his teenage years filled with the strain of facing the possibility of death almost every day, with the knowledge that his actions could spell disaster for every free thinking individual alive. Those years had been superseded by a different type of strain that had gradually grown from his marriage and family. It wasn't that he was unhappy exactly. He just felt a void. Something was missing; something that he seemed to have lost somewhere along the way. The shallow creases under his eyes were ever more noticeable and he could detect some strands of grey hair at his temples and crown. Perhaps his changing appearance was part of the reason for the apparent cooling of his relationship with Ginny, although she rarely commented on his looks any more. In any case, time hadn't been too kind to her either. Certainly, Ginny's hair was still as long, shiny and flaming red as it had ever been, although now it required a little help from a Wonder Witch potion, but her figure and demeanour got more like her mother's every day and her ambition and drive had seemed to fade as soon as she and Harry were married.
Hermione, on the other hand, had hardly changed at all, in his view. Her bushy brown hair was almost as unruly as his own and she still wore it long but generally tied back, away from her face. Other things about her also hadn't changed. Her brow was generally creased with the same worried frown that he remembered so well from their time at Hogwarts, as if she was concentrating on a problem that only she could resolve; but it always cleared when she greeted him. He had noticed that she didn't seem to smile very much anymore and the reason for that now seemed clear, although he wondered when the change had begun and whether he might have picked up on it sooner. So much had happened in the last few weeks that Harry found it hard to remember any subtle signs that he might have noted from years gone by; but then he had to admit that he wasn't the most observant of people when it came to interpreting the feelings and emotions of others.
Now, he had the feeling that his part in recent events was reaching some sort of climax, although whether it was going to be good or bad he couldn't be entirely sure. Harry pulled on his overcoat, nervously preparing to leave, even though he knew that he was way too early, and thought back to when this had all started; the night when his carefully constructed charade of a happy, contented family life had first started to unravel.