Being called by her first name by Hermione Granger made Maria smile even more. "Will you sign my Witch Weekly the next time? Actually it's Jenny's but I read them too. I might not be a witch but I still like to know what's happening. Like the last issue, that hairdo on page thirty-one. I tried to get Jenny to do it for me, but it didn't quite come out right. This side," Maria indicated the left side of her hair, "It's the wrong length."
Hermione mentally counted to four before she allowed herself to answer with a smile. "Yes, if you won't tell anyone we were shopping here, we'll both sign it."
"Oh wow," Maria exclaimed. "Here," she pulled an index card from under the counter and wrote her name and the days and hours of her normal shifts. When she handed it to them she continued. "If you need anything, just ask. I know everyone in the store and I'm sure I can be of help."
"Thanks Maria," Harry said as he pocketed the card. "We appreciate it."
She finished ringing up their sale and Mrs. Granger handed over her card. Maria then bagged the items and handed them over. "Now, you did say I could tell Jennifer and my dad as long as I say it was near the Leaky Cauldron?"
"That'll be fine. Thanks Maria."
Hermione was muttering various curses at Rita Skeeter most of the way back to the car. They were going to drop off the packages and then come back to eat.
"What was that all about?" Her mother finally asked.
"Nothing really," Hermione replied but then she saw the look in her mother's eyes and sighed. "You know Harry's famous? He's the Boy-Who-Lived and all of that?"
"Yes," Jean answered, "but I thought all of that was when he was a baby."
"The wizarding world has long memories, beside you saw what happened last week, he beat Voldemort again," Hermione explained. "He's now seen as the Chosen One, the one who will beat Voldemort. It's in another article in that paper."
"But that's ridiculous."
"The Wizarding World doesn't think so," Hermione said and decided it was time to change the subject. She looked down at her watch. "We can discuss this later, but we're going to be late for our reservations if we don't hurry."
They were three minutes late arriving back at the restaurant, but were quickly shown to a table next to a window which looked out into the city. Sunset was another thirty minutes away and the failing sunlight cast long shadows from the surrounding buildings. Hermione smiled as she watched her husband hold her mother's chair for her and then came and held hers as well.
"Going all out?" She asked him.
"Anything for you," Harry replied.
"Such a gentleman," Jean commented when Harry had taken his own seat. The blush that crossed his face was endearing.
"How about a bottle of wine?" Jean asked. "They have a wonderful selection."
Hermione was about agree and then remembered something. "Mum," She said softly. "Harry won't be sixteen until the end of July."
"Is that so?" Jean queried as she looked at the raven haired youth. "Well he looks sixteen to me. Do you have any ID that says what your age is?"
"Uh...no," Harry replied.
"Then it won't be a problem," Jean Granger said with a smile. The wine would serve another purpose at this meal. One Jean was acutely interested in. She liked Harry and so far he'd been a perfect gentleman, but ever since her daughter had mentioned the young man had been mistreated by his relatives there had been a hint of concern. She was a doctor, a student of science and she knew there had been several studies that proved that abused children were more likely to grow up to be abusers. Though not a guaranteed method by any means, she knew slight inebriation sometimes allowed a person's true temperament to show through.
Dinner was ordered; for Harry it was lamb and baby onions with a side of vegetables, Hermione decided on the beef in a red wine sauce served with a side of mushrooms while Jean ordered the lobster. A bottle of 1990 Mosel Reisling was brought to the table and poured into the three wine glasses.
"Better than the ones in the tent?" Harry asked as Hermione took her first bite of mushrooms.
"These aren't mushrooms, they are small bites of heaven floating into my mouth," His wife answered. "Even Dobby and Winky might have trouble matching this."
"You going to tell them that? They'd spent days trying to perfect their mushrooms."
"True, but they are really good."
The lamb is excellent too."
....
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