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What Really Matters | ||||||
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Category: Post-DH/AB Characters:Harry/Ginny Genres: Comedy, Fluff, Humor Warnings: Mild Language, Mild Sexual Situations, Negative Alcohol Use Story is Complete Rating: R Reviews: 34 Summary: ¨What matters here is that you and I will get bonded for life, and we´ll get to share the moment with the people we love¨ This is the story of Harry and Ginny´s wedding, a spin-off from my first fic, That Look In Your Eyes. Fun, bantering, surprises and a lot of laughs. Hitcount: Story Total: 19877; Chapter Total: 2405 Awards: View Trophy Room Author's Notes: This is definitely not the typical stag and hen's do. I researched the places where the characters go, they all exist in real life, although Her Upstairs closed some time ago (which is sad, because tha place looked terrific) |
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She Said Yes “Oooohhh, this is bliss,” said Harry. “I couldn’t agree more,” Neville replied. “Told you I had the best idea for stag party, didn’t I? said Ron. “Whoa, that felt great. Could you please do that again, Miss Chen? It’s just what I need.” “These people really know what to do with the hands,” said Harry. “Yeah, no doubt they’re professionals,” agreed Neville. “I was really sceptical the first time Hermione brought me here, on her birthday, but hats off to her. It was amazing; I would even go so far as to say this has saved us from one or two rows. Of course, never tell her I said that.” “Cross my heart,” said Harry. “But don’t hope to die, please,” said Neville nonchalantly. “We have enough work as it is-“ “In the police, yes, Neville,” said Ron with a covert, warning look, but the man who was attending Neville showed no sign of surprise. Clearly very professional, Harry thought, closing his eyes. But even so, one could never be too careful among Muggles, and Neville was the least used to that. Ron had improved a lot after two years dating Hermione; thanks to her, the boy who once yelled into a fellytone was now a man who had dared to travel on a plane to literally the other side of the world, knew how to order takeaway food on the phone and enjoyed the occasional beer with Paul, Hermione’s father, at the latter’s favourite pub. Sometimes he slipped ordering a Butterbeer instead of an ale, but he passed it off saying it was an Australian drink he had got used to. Immersed in his thoughts, he did not notice that Miss Kane’s hands no longer were touching him until he felt a towel being placed over his body. He opened his eyes and glanced sideways. Neville and Ron were being covered, too. “Gentlemen, you must lay here for a while, so the oils can do their work. I will return in an hour, just in case you lose track of time. Bathrobes are ready by the cabin showers. Please proceed to the jacuzzi after showering,” said the man at Neville’s side. “Yes, I know the drill. Thanks, Olsen,” said Ron in a sleepy voice. The three therapists left the room and closed the door, leaving them in a pleasant semi-darkness, low music playing from hidden speakers. Nobody talked for a while, and Harry was drifting into a slumber, when a loud snore, followed by a chuckle, alerted his senses. “And I’m the one that always woke up and found himself Silenced in Gryffindor’s dorm,” said Ron, snickering. Neville snored again loudly, and the two burst out laughing. “Oi Nev!” called Ron. “Wssup?” he said, and then muttered, “‘am relaxin’”. “Well, you relax a bit noisily for the rest of us,” chuckled Ron. “Wake up, it’s time to get up and shower.” Neville groaned, but did as he was told. Picking up the towel and covering himself with it, he said, “I reckon I was so tense when you brought us here, I ended up letting go when I saw that nothing happened.” “What do you mean?” Harry said. “Well, I’ve never been to a place like this. A Muggle spa, of all things! I don’t think there’s anything like this in the wizarding world. Never heard a bloke saying he needed a massage -not that I’m complaining, my neck’s as good as new-“ “You should be used by now, Neville,” said Harry. “After two years at the Aurors, a stiff neck, really?” “I didn’t get it at training. You try to write the Avery report twice and then tell me,” said Neville, scowling. “That’s what Dictation Quills are for, Nev,” said Ron, smirking. “Yeah, and I used one… which turned out to be from Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes from the look of it. Thank Merlin I checked the report before turning it in to Gretchen. The damned thing had written a love declaration for her! Signed by me!” Neville exclaimed, turning pink. Harry and Ron howled with laughter. “So, it worked! I wondered, you know, since Schmidt didn’t say anything,” said Ron, grinning from ear to ear. “Yes! George is gonna be pleased, it was my idea.” “Very nice of you to pick me as guinea pig, mate. Should’ve figured you were behind it. How did you dare! Gretchen is my mentor! And she doesn’t even go out with men!!! If she had read it…” Neville shook his head and shuddered. “Would’ve ‘fessed up in a beat, don’t worry. Come on, I’ve already made up for it bringing you to a spa!” “Oh, did you? Next time, try to make up with something more… manly, will you?” muttered Neville. “Look, spas are not exactly popular among Muggle blokes either, to be fair. But Hermione says that is changing too, and in any case, nobody here bats an eyelid whoever you are. A goblin could walk through that doors and I bet Olsen would just ask him if he had a reservation,” laughed Ron. “Yeah, but I didn’t know that, did I? And I was… very conscious of my… my body.” Neville blushed a bit and he turned around to hide his face. Harry chuckled. “Why, did you sprout gills or a third eye, Nev?” “Very funny, Harry,” he answered. “I was talking about the scars.” The scars. Neville was right; discreet as the staff might seem, Harry doubted three young people -four, if they counted Hermione, who was also a client- as scarred as they were and clearly related between them would not raise some suspicion. His eyes wandered from his own chest to Ron’s missing fingernails, the brains’ scars in his arms, and Neville’s face. He began to wonder if they should Confund the staff when Ron, who remained totally unconcerned, spoke. “Oh, that. Well, actually, Hermione came up with an explanation. The first time we came here, I was troubled by that, because both of us have a fair share of them, too. She made up a story about all of us being injured in a school bus accident. But like I said, no one cared.” Harry let out a breath, relieved. “Great! So, shall we try the jacuzzi?” “Yeah,” said Neville, looking equally unburdened. “I can’t figure what on Merlin’s name is that, but sounds fun.” “Oh, it’s like heaven on earth,” said Ron. “And there’s still the manicure.” “Gee, Ron, a manicure?” said Harry. “Are we applying next for beauty redactors at Witch Weekly, or what? What’s wrong with our hands?” Ron scowled to him. “Not that I should bother to take care of that, but just this one time, I thought you would appreciate having soft hands instead of rough. Or at least,” he said, with pink ears “although I don’t want to hear anything about that, I think my sister will.” Neville snorted and laughed out loud. Harry blushed hard, but did not lower his eyes. “Lead the way, please.” oooOOOooo “Whatever I had imagined for my hen’s party, Hermione, you’ve exceed my expectations, that’s for sure,” said Ginny, picking at the chips on her plate. “By the way, the food’s superb! This honey chicken stuff is wonderful. You’re about to get an Outstanding for this night.” “Nothing but the best for us,” said a smug Hermione. “This is the first hen night I’ve partly organised, so I did a little research-“ “Don’t tell me there are books that actually teach you how to do this, Hermione,” interrupted Ginny, giggling. “Of course not, silly- but actually, I think there should be, it would be interesting to have some guidelines or suggestions to mark such a milestone-“ “Well, of course prenuptial customs vary from one culture to another,” said Luna, who was sipping from a glass that contained a lavender drink. “I see you didn’t go for the Malaysian custom of making the bride and groom fast before the ceremony and instead opted for the Mauritanian traditional overstuffing the bride with food, Hermione.” She nodded before going on. “I think Harry loves curves.” Ginny laughed. “That’s right, Luna, he does,” she said. “But that’s- I didn’t choose this because of it, I mean, we had to have dinner anyway, and the cinema diner looked fun, with the American menu,” spluttered Hermione, looking nonplussed. “Don’t tell me you picked an ancient ritual for your part tonight! We agreed to stick to modern Muggle customs!” “I thought about it,” said Luna, while Ginny kept laughing. “But the Scottish Blackening of the Bride did not appeal to me, for instance. I can see the point of it -covering the bride and the groom in dirt which is supposed to prepare them to overcome whatever difficulties they may encounter in married life- but I think Ginny and Harry have already got past a fair share of troubles so they’re more than ready to embrace what their new life may bring. And she’s not Jewish, so there’s no need for her to dip naked in a natural body of water. It’s funny how traditions about the same thing can be so opposed, isn’t it? Some people take baths, others get covered in dirt; some fast while others have to eat as much as they can,” said Luna, with a pensive face. “That’s all very interesting, Luna,” Hermione said, back to her businesslike mood. “But I told you, all the Muggle girls I asked said this is a night to basically have all the fun you aren’t supposed to have later, and grab the chance to do one or two crazy things.” “Hey, I plan on having fun and doing crazy stuff after the wedding!” protested Ginny. “But I admit, this has been brilliant so far. I’ve never been to a cinema before and it’s wonderful! Watching a moving from a stuffy sofa while eating popcorn and sweets is something wizarding world should copy. I’m definitely returning. And the moving was just brilliant! I didn’t understand everything about it- why were they queuing and dancing in that hall?- but the end was just the best! Pity we didn’t see the front of them, though.” “It’s called a movie, Ginny,” laughed Hermione. “And they were queuing at some kind of office for unemployed Muggle people. It’s supposed to be a boring, formal place so dancing is a bit unexpected. I’m glad you liked the cinema, I wanted something special so I chose the Portobello Electric. Did you know it is one of the oldest working cinemas in Britain? It first opened in 1910 and it was built in Edwardian Baroque style-“ “Yeah, yeah, we know your research was wide and thorough,” said Ginny. “Well, it was,” replied Hermione, a little defensive. “Not all the cinemas have sofas and beds, you know. They look a bit like the Wizengamot, with raised chairs, but facing the screen.” “Thank you for picking this one, then,” said Ginny, with a shudder. “Anything that doesn’t reminds me of that place. I had enough of it at the trials.” “And I requested The Full Monty specifically because I found out many hen parties are now held at boys’ striptease shows since the success of the movie. But I feared they could be a little… tasteless, and I wanted everything perfect for us-“ Ginny nearly screamed in excitement. “There ARE actual places you can see NAKED boys dancing??? Why has nobody said anything? All the things I’ve heard in the locker room, and no one mentioned this? Are we going to one tonight?” She was jumping in anticipation. Meanwhile, Hermione and Luna kept silent, the former glancing at the latter, who was stirring her drink calmly. “Well, you see…” the older witch said, “Luna told me she would take care of that, and refused to tell me where we are going next so it could be a surprise for me, too.” Ginny turned to Luna. “So- Are you taking us to see a naked boys’ show?” Luna smiled and sipped again her drink. “Well, the show will be great, that I can assure you. But I did not know the bit about nudity being a requirement, so I’m sorry but the showmen will be fully clothed. And in fact… very smartly robed,” she said with a full smile. oooOOOooo “Now, fill the bowl of your pipe. You must press the tobacco inside and refill, then press it again until it’s two thirds full. Not too tight, but not too loose either. Got it?” said Neville. He demonstrated filling his own pipe expertly and pressing the tobacco with the tamper. Ron quickly followed suit, but Harry hesitated; he had never smoked before and truth be told, he was not too keen on trying it, but at the same time he did not want to be the discordant note of the night. Neville looked at him and pointed to a packet. “Since it’s your first time, I recommend the vanilla flavoured tobacco. It’s not too strong, well, pipe tobacco it’s always stronger than the cigarettes, but you don’t fill you lungs, pipes are more about savouring and relaxing. It’s a ritual to be enjoyed after a good meal, with friends and a glass of fine Firewhisky, like we are now.” “A true wizard’s trait,” said Ron. “My father always says every wizard should know how to hold his liquor, carve a roast and smoke a pipe.” Neville nodded in agreement. “Indeed; that’s what my great Uncle Algie always says, word for word. He was the one who gave me Trevor. Told me cats were for witches,” he chuckled. “Was he the one who taught you how to do this?” said Harry, struggling to fill the pipe. “Merlin, no, ‘twas my great Aunt Enid. Uncle Algie never stood the smell of tobacco, said it made him gag. Aunt Enid smokes in pipe since she got her brooch at her seventeenth birthday. Tried to start a smoker’s club in her last year at Hogwarts, but Headmaster Dippet put his foot down. Easy there, now, Harry. You don’t want to get it all tight; put the pipe to your mouth and take a draw to test if the air flows freely.” Harry did as he was told and proclaimed it to be fine. Neville proceeded to teach him how to light the pipe -which was not as easy as he would have thought. Finally, after what seemed a long, detailed ritual, he put the pipe to his mouth, took a puff in- only to complain loudly when he felt his tongue burning. He swore and put down his pipe while Ron and Neville, who had started smoking from theirs at a total ease, laughed at his discomfort. “Slow and easy, Harry, it’s the clue to avoid tongue bite,” Ron said. “You should’ve paid attention when Bill taught me. If all your first times are as awful as this one, I feel sorry for my sister!” He chuckled at his own joke. Harry scowled at him, unable to make a retort as his tongue still burned, and took a swig from his glass of Firewhisky, which turned out to be the worst idea because it literally was like throwing alcohol to the flames. Howling with pain while the others laughed louder, he grabbed his wand to cast an Aguamenti over an empty glass, but the burnt tongue prevented him from saying the incantation and the pain did not let him concentrate to do it non-verbally. In the end, he resorted to fishing out the ice cubes from the glass of whisky and stuffing them unceremoniously in his mouth. “Aaahh, th’ be’er,” he stuttered. “You’tto, coud’ show some’ mcy,” said to his companions, who were wiping tears and clutching stitches in their sides. “Wait to talk till you spit that out, mate,” said Ron, still chuckling. As Harry shook his head and grimaced of pain, he finally pulled out his wand and offered to cast a healing spell, which Harry accepted eagerly. Finally freed from the pain and the ice, he downed a glass of freshly poured water, sighed in relief and said, eyeing the pipe disdainfully, “I don’t think I like smoking at all, mates. Reminds me too much of my uncle, sorry. He used to smoke Havana cigars and it was a blessing he didn’t tolerate my presence because the smell of that thing always gave me a headache. And believe me, it lingered a lot, the odour.” “We can put out our pipes and clear the air if you’re uncomfortable,” offered Neville, but Harry dismissed the offer with a hand gesture and took the Firewhisky bottle to refill the glasses. “Nah, this smell I can cope with, and night’s been great so far, I don’t want to spoil it. You two carry on.” He raised his glass and beckoned the other two to do the same. “I want to make a toast for the outstanding best man and groomsman. I’m very lucky to have both of you in my life. To Ron and Neville!” The three cheered and drank. “Mate, save something for tomorrow, will you? I don’t want to get too emotional so soon.” Ron put his hand over his heart dramatically. “This is a night for confidences, laughs and one or two advices for the future husband.” Harry stared at him. “Like what? You’re not going to give me the sex talk, are you? It’s your sister the one who I’m going to have sex with!” “No, of course not! Ginny’s my little sister-“ “And Hermione’s my sister by choice, I’m not letting you tell me anything you could have done or made with her. I’ve actually seen more of the two of you together than I could be comfortable with. So sex talk is out of the question. End of story,” said Harry vehemently. “Well, unless our great Snake Slayer wants to offer some good, family unrelated wisdom of his own, would you, Neville? You’re always surrounded by girls at the parties,” said Ron waggling his eyebrows and causing the latter to choke and cough over his pipe. “Erm, I didn’t know… said knowledge was required from me,” said Neville, with reddening cheeks. “You told me to take care of the dinner and drinks, I arranged the whole thing at this private parlour at the Leaky because I know Harry doesn’t like clubs. And that’s all. Groomsman’s job description doesn’t include giving advice of any sorts, unless you want to know how to grow a Venomous Verbena in a pot.” “C’mon Nev, traditions must be followed!” protested Ron. But something in the nervous shifting and blushing of Neville made Harry think that maybe his friend did not want to delve into the subject due to unwillingness, but because… “Merlin, Neville, you… you haven’t been with anybody yet, have you?” said Harry. Ron gasped. Neville’s face was so hot one could have fried an egg on it, but he raised his chin and looked at them defiantly. “And what if I haven’t? I wasn’t aware this was some requirement one had to have fulfilled after a certain age.” “Hey, it’s no trouble, really, Neville. It’s only that, you know, since after the Battle, having female company has certainly been not a problem for you, mate. I supposed, you know, that surely you have had a lot of … opportunities… to be with someone, er, intimately,” said Ron, with evident discomfort. Neville took his time to answer; it was evident he wasn’t comfortable with the topic. “No, it hasn’t been for lack of… opportunities, as you put it. Godric knows I’m tired of fans and being awarded the Order of Merlin only worsened it. At first, I didn’t mind them much; actually, being popular was a lot of fun. But when some girl wanted more… Invariably, they never attracted me. It’s not that I’ve never felt… sexual attraction, you know? It’s more like… every time it’s happened was towards someone who I already had feelings for. But unfortunately they didn’t want anything more than friendship so… here I am,” he shrugged. A heavy silence followed Neville’s revelations. Harry shifted in his seat and Ron took a pair of quick puffs from his pipe, but it was Neville again who broke the silence. “I… Please, don’t tell anybody this. It’s really no one’s business, even if I think this doesn’t make me less of a… man, or whatever.” He left his pipe on the table, hunched over it and rubbed his face with his hands to hide his embarrassment. Immediately, Harry and Ron protested, the latter was louder. “How can you think this makes you less worthy, or whatever? Hey, we’ve seen you fighting, rebuilding Hogwarts, being a real leader! That’s what defines you!” Harry nodded in agreement. “You’re worth a thousand men, Nev. We’re proud of you. You’re a good friend and a nice person, and any girl would be lucky to be with you, but you’re simply waiting for the right one! And I’m telling you: when that happens, we’ll be-“ Exactly what they would or would not be remained unknown, because at that moment, someone knocked at the door. The three of them looked at it at the same time a voice said “Hey, it’s Hannah. May I come in?” Harry was going to answer, but out of the corner of his eye, he saw movement and turned his head to stare open mouthed at Neville, who, upon hearing Hannah’s voice, had straightened as if hit by an electric jolt and was now combing his hair quickly with his fingers. He then repositioned himself comfortably in the armchair, cleared his throat and said aloud, “Yeah, come in.” Harry looked at Ron and saw he was wearing an identical gobsmacked expression. The door opened and Hannah Abbott entered the room smiling at them as she used to do every day at every customer of the pub; but Harry thought her smile went slightly wider when she addressed Neville. “I’m about to finish my shift, and I wanted to check on you before going home. Is everything ok? Do you need anything else?” “Er… no, it’s fine; thanks for everything, Hannah, the dinner was fantastic,” said a beaming Neville. “Oh, I’m happy you liked it. You said it was a belated celebration of your birthday so I told the cook to put an extra effort in it.” “Yes, yes, it was eleven days ago, but you know- lots of work at the office, the three of us couldn’t get together sooner…” “Kingsley should give you some holidays,” observed Hannah. “Thanks to you all, this country is now a better place to live. It doesn’t seem fair, to deprive you of enjoying it, I think.” The mention of Kingsley stirred Harry into action. Something was going on between those two, that much was evident, and Merlin be damned if he was not going to give it a nudge in the right direction. He caught Ron’s eye and raised an eyebrow. Back me up. Ron nodded imperceptibly. “Now that you mention Kingsley, Hannah, actually you can tell him tomorrow in person, at my birthday party -mine and Ginny’s, you know, at the Burrow. You’re coming, aren’t you? I think Ginny said she had sent an owl to Tony and you with the invitation.” This was a lie, but hell, if Molly had invited Aunt Muriel, he was perfectly entitled to extend a little bit of her hospitality if that meant they could help their friend. Even if it was not clear how, because last he had heard, Hannah Abbott was in a relationship with Anthony Goldstein since the summer after the Battle, two years ago. Hannah’s face changed. “Oh, well, you see, I had no idea we were invited… Tony left for Israel six weeks ago.” She looked at the floor, uncomfortable. “I thought Neville had told you… he often comes in for lunch-“ “I didn’t know if you wanted the people to know, Hannah,” said Neville softly. “Gryffindor chivalry,” said Hannah, with a little smile. She got serious again. “Tony and I broke up three months ago. We… weren’t going anywhere. You could say we weren’t in the same page. He wanted to live in Israel, to complete his studies, and wanted us to marry and go together. But I didn’t want to move abroad and leave my father alone. Tony never liked my job here, and thought it wouldn’t be a great deal for me to give it up, too. I know this is not glamorous, but I really love waiting on people, and it pays the bills and leaves me enough time to study on my own. I haven’t discarded completing my education. In fact, I will take two NEWTs later this month, at the open call at Hogwarts.” “Oh, are you? Brilliant! I know you’ll ace them-“ said Neville, but shut up when he saw the incredulous stares his two friends were giving him. Hannah let out a giggle. “Thanks! Hopefully I won’t set a flock of flamingos loose again, like I did in my OWL. By the way, I was meaning to ask you for help; I’ve been revising for Herbology and there’s a couple of things I still struggle with. You were really good with magical cacti, weren’t you?” “Oh, I won’t call myself an expert…” Harry saw Ron swearing quietly under his breath and subtly kicking Neville undercover of the table. He winced and added, “but of course I’ll be happy to help you.” “Brilliant; you can fix revising meetings tomorrow at the we- birthday party,” said Harry. “Because you’re coming, of course, aren’t you? I won’t take no for an answer.” “Oh, well, if you insist… I planned on taking a break anyway. What should I bring? Is there something I can get for Ginny and you?” “It’s fine, we told people to bring only food and drinks, no gifts please.” “That’s really thoughtful from you both. How about pies and a case of mead, then?” “Sounds perfect, Hannah. I will send your invitation first thing tomorrow in the morning. It doubles as a Portkey that will get you through the wards, so be ready to grab it at four in the afternoon.” “I’ll be there. Now, I should really get going. Thanks for the invitation, Harry. Have a good night, you three.” Ron and Harry raised their hands in farewell, but Neville got up from his armchair. “See you tomorrow!” he said. Hannah smiled at him and closed the door. “Well, well,” said Ron, “talking about right girls, it seems to me we shouldn’t look that far, don’t you think, Harry?” “Indeed, Ron. The whole thing was weird from the ‘Harry doesn’t like clubs’ bit.” “Hey, it’s true you don’t! That’s why-“ “Do not lie to us, Longbottom. You know Harry enjoys -or, more likely, tolerates- clubs from time to time. We should have suspected even before; I highly doubt Cackling Cacti need to be tended so often at lunchtime. Spit it out, Neville,” said Ron, leaning back in his armchair and picking his pipe again. Neville turned to Harry with begging eyes, but he smirked and shook his head. “I want to know why it’s worth facing my fiancée when I tell her I sent one extra invitation. Do you or do you not fancy Hannah Abbott?” With an air of defeat, Neville plopped back on his armchair. “I’ve liked her for ages, since the year we were fighting the Carrows. She was in the DA too, and specialised in treating small injuries, so I gave her and Ginny an awful lot of work. But she wasn’t interested in me then, so I let it be. We’ve been only friends… we still are, really.” “I’d say it’s about time to do something about that status, then. What are you waiting for?” said Harry. “For Merlin’s sake, she just broke up with her boyfriend of two years. I’m not some desperate creep, jumping on her the moment she’s free!” “Well, seems like some advice is in order, though not in the direction we expected,” said Ron, grabbing the bottle to refill his glass. “Mark my words: the night’s about to get more and more interesting.” oooOOOooo “Mark my words,” Hermione said, “the night’s getting more and more surprising by the minute.” “Definitely,” agreed Ginny. “If I thought the cinema was cool, I fail to find words to describe this.” This was a club called Her Upstairs, that was nothing at all like the ones she had been to with her teammates and friends. Never before had she been greeted at the door by a big, stocky cheerful man with heavy makeup and clad in what Hermione had explained later that was a Muggle maid uniform, complete with a lace apron and heels twice the height of the ones she owned. It wasn’t that the concept of a queer man was alien to her; wizards wearing witches robes -clothes were not that different, really- were not unheard of in the wizarding world, but she had never seen a Muggle one and she had no idea they could be so… exuberant? And nobody had told her they could sing, either. Nor that they did so spectacularly. Currently on stage was a lean, tall man in a blonde wig and a hot pink, strapless fitted dress with a big bow proclaiming that diamonds were a girl’s best friend, something she strongly disagreed with, but the show was really entertaining. Four men in black suits danced around or took turns to twirl and dip the singer. The audience was not silent: they clapped and cheered at the best moments and the artist punctuated her performance with bouts of merry banter between the spectators and him- her. “Marilyn Monroe,” said Hermione, gesturing to the singer. “Who, the singer? Do you know him?” Hermione chuckled. “No, of course not. Monroe is a famous Muggle actress, died long time ago. They are imitating one of her more popular songs. It’s a scene from a movie. A big part of the show here is based on popular Muggle songs.” “And how do you know this? Have you been here before?” “Merlin, no,” said Hermione laughing. “But I’ve seen something similar on TV. Although what is puzzling me is why Luna, of all people, has, and clearly not once by the looks of it.” It certainly had been a shock, Ginny thought, when all the staff had greeted Luna by name. Not only that, but they had been directed to a table in front of the stage that bore a Reserved sign. A waitress had attended them immediately and, seeing that Ginny and Hermione had no idea of what to order, suggested a pair of colourful cocktails that came in glasses with a sugary edge and, for some reason, a paper umbrella. She made a mental note of asking Hermione later, and idly thought how much her father would enjoy this. Luna, however, did not hesitate in ordering a Beet Cooler, which came in a tall glass with slices of onion, garlic and a spring of dill. After taking a sip, she had sprung out of her chair to go find “Dave” who she stated was looking forward to meeting them. “I don’t know, maybe this Dave person will give us a clue? Did she mention someone with that name before?” “Not that I can remember,” said Hermione. “But here she comes, and he… or she must be Dave.” Luna had reappeared hand in hand with a young black man dressed in a long, sequinned black dress and a big Afro wig. His manicure and makeup were impeccably done, and he moved with grace. “Girls, this is Dave. Although tonight we should call her Davinia, it’s her stage name. Davinia, you remember Hermione Granger and Ginevra Weasley, don’t you?” “Of course, who hasn’t heard of them? They’re famous, Order of Merlin and all. It’s a pleasure to be your host tonight. You can call me Dave, I’ve not gone up on stage yet,” said the newcomer affably. Hermione and Ginny’s jaws dropped open at the same time. “It’s… it’s a pleasure to meet you too, Dave- Davinia, sorry,” said Ginny. “But… have we met before? Are… are you, you know… like us?” She heard Hermione gasping, and turned on her seat to look at her, eyes wide open, pointing at Dave. “Oh my God, you’re David Buhle! Ginny! He’s Diva Dave!” |
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