Chapter Twelve - The Theatre

Hermione was staring at her reflection, contemplating the evening she was about to have, and asking herself, was this a date? Technically it felt like she was going on a date; she had accepted Harry's offer, then she had immediately gone home, taken a shower, thrown on a dress and applied basic makeup. She was now sitting on the tube, making the journey back to the bookstore, where she would meet Harry and go to the theatre.

One thing was for sure, the promise she made with Ginny had well and truly been broken and she was now dreading the thought of the redhead finding out and breaking one of her fingers. She was fairly certain, not completely mind you, that Ginny wouldn't resort to such measures. And besides, it had been Harry who had carefully used the words "as friends" to describe their evening, so as long as that remained the same, where was the harm?

'You look pretty,' Harry said, making a cautious compliment when they met out the front of his bookstore, and he had come out wearing a tuxedo.

'Thanks,' Hermione said, she was trying desperately not to let her cheeks turn any pinker. 'Harry,' she said after a pause, having thought about what to say on the tube ride over, 'are you sure about this? I mean, Cho—?'

'Was given the chance several times this week,' Harry explained carefully, checking his pockets for the tickets, 'each time I asked, her answer was she would prefer to go on her soccer trip. I asked if I could go with a friend, she said yes, and so here we are.'

'I don't think she would have expected you to take me,' said Hermione seriously, narrowing her eyes, 'she probably thought you meant Neville.'

'Don't worry about it, it'll be fine,' Harry said, putting the tickets away, 'this will be fun, you'll see. It's been ages since I've been to the theatre.'

'What kind of show is it, out of interest?' Hermione asked curiously, she couldn't believe she hadn't asked that question earlier.

Harry smiled and shook his head. And before Hermione could do anything but blink at him, he led the way along the sidewalk without a response. Hermione bit her lip nervously and followed. She could hear Ginny's voice somewhere in the back of her head, telling her to stop, turn around and take the train home immediately without looking back.

But then there was another voice, one that was much stronger and guttural, that told her to forget about Ginny and enjoy her night. She was doing nothing wrong.

'Why won't you tell me what we're going to go see?' Hermione asked persistently, after they'd walked a block in silence.

'Because,' Harry said, his hands coolly in his pockets, 'the surprise can often be the best bit.'

'You're not setting me up, are you?' she asked him warningly.

'Setting you up?' he asked, looking at her strangely. 'What do you mean?'

'I don't know,' Hermione said, as the conspiracy theorist part of her reared it's head, 'I thought maybe Ginny put you up to this.'

'Up to what? What are you talking about?' Harry couldn't help but let out a laugh. 'Hermione, we're just two friends, going to the theatre. No tricks. I'm not telling you what the show is because I don't want to ruin the surprise.'

But the surprise was ruined sooner than Harry had hoped. Upon approaching the theatre, there were large pink posters plastered everywhere, as well as cardboard cut outs of a very old man with a long beard, wearing a very bright and colourful suit, sitting in a chair on a stage, drinking a cup of tea with his pinkie erected.

The caption wrote:

Sir Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore

Presents

Ninety minutes with the Queen

'We're seeing Albus Dumbledore?' Hermione asked excitedly, her mouth open in shock.

'I thought you might like that,' Harry said whilst smirking. 'His work in literature is legendary, I myself am in his book club and I always make sure to have his autobiography in stock at my shop.'

'I'm in that club too!' Hermione said earnestly. 'Harry, this is so great, thank you so much!'

'My pleasure,' Harry said, and he followed up with the nice gesture of opening the door for her and allowing her to enter first.

The theatre was quite a lot smaller than Hermione had imagined. The stage was very close to the audience, and they found their seats to be a few rows from the front. However, quite a reasonable crowd began to turn up, and by the time the lights went out at the start of the show, it was a pretty full theatre. A spotlight hit the side of the stage, and on walked Dumbledore, wearing the identical outfit depictured in his cut-out posters, with the addition of a pink scarf wrapped around his neck.

'Hello darlings!' Dumbledore said with his arms outstretched, beaming as people got to their feet an applauded. 'Welcome to my one man show!'

The round of applause began to die away as Dumbledore took the microphone from its holster and took a seat in the bright red, large chair that had been set out for him and he put his feet up on the small pouffe by his feet.

'That's better,' he said with a sigh, as the crowd settled down and retook their seats. 'Oh, my darlings,' he said, waving to them, 'it is with a heavy heart that I do this show tonight. Some of you may know this already, of course, but for those of you who don't, my long-time lover and best friend, Gellert, have decided to break up.'

There was a groan of sadness from the crowd and Dumbledore waved them away kindly.

'I know, it's terrible,' he said, straggling to his feet, 'but I thought, instead of willowing around in self-pity, I should come in and do the show anyway. Then I thought, brilliantly, that I might do something a little different. Something a little— unexpected.

'Ordinarily, I tend to remain on stage during my one man show and just talk,' he said, putting his hand over his eyes to shield from the light and looking around. 'But I have such an attractive audience, perhaps with some luck, I might find my young, loving stallion amongst you— aha!'

Dumbledore grinned and floated off the stage, his pink scarf trailing along behind him. Hermione's heart sank when she realised that he had spotted Harry, and was coming over to where they sat, and before she knew it, he was standing over them.

'Hello darling,' he said, putting his hand firmly on Harry's shoulder, 'aren't you handsome? Would it be inappropriate if I was to say that I think I'm in love with you?'

He stopped. He spotted Hermione sitting there next to him, with a slightly crimson face and his smile dropped.

'What a shame,' said Dumbledore, carefully taking his hand away and looking around at the crowd. 'Why are the handsome ones always taken?'

There was a splatter of laughter, in which Harry and Hermione half-forced out of themselves, to play along with the narrative.

'So, my darlings, is it serious?' he asked, smiling at them playfully, running a hand through Harry's untidy hair. 'Has he asked you to marry him yet, my dear? My, my, I do hope he hasn't brought you here to do it!'

There was another round of laughter, which made Hermione even more red in the face.

'We're not together,' Harry said loudly and without any tact, 'we're just friends.'

'Friends, are we?' Dumbledore asked, and he plopped himself into the empty chair beside Harry in a heartbeat, his arm reaching around. 'Does this mean you're available, darling?'

'No, I'm engaged.'

Dumbledore stood upright just as quickly as he had sat down. The crowd suddenly gasped unexpectedly, making the old queen look around in circles.

'Engaged?' Dumbledore repeated, looking scandalous. 'To somebody else? Are they here?'

'No, she's in Scotland,' Harry said promptly, another gasp echoed around the theatre.

'It is a she, what a shame,' Dumbledore said, putting a hand to his chest. 'Okay, so you're engaged to someone else, she's not here, but she's okay with you bringing your very attractive friend instead?'

'Well—'

'Unless she doesn't know you're here?' Dumbledore said, putting a hand over his mouth, and when Harry said nothing, he nearly fainted. 'My darling, you poor thing, do you not know how relationships work?'

'We're friends,' Harry tried to say again, but Dumbledore shook his head.

'Perhaps you should be more than that, darling,' Dumbledore pointed out, 'if this one is willing to go to the theatre with you, but the other one is not, I know who I'd choose to be with. Am I right, people?'

There was a round of applause and Hermione felt like no matter how low she sunk down in her chair it would never be enough.

'Life is short, darling!' Dumbledore said wearily. 'Get your priorities sorted, before you end up like me. An old queen, all alone and searching through a half-empty theatre for love—'

'Ooo, you're a handsome one,' Dumbledore said after walking away, 'what about you, darling, are you single?'

A/N:- I don't usually put an Author's Note in, but I feel obligated to tell those dedicated in reading this, that after this chapter, I don't know when the next one will be. I tend to keep one backup in the bag, but, this past month I've not been my usually creative writing self. So, please be patient, if the next update isn't for a week or for a year, don't be deterred, I'll make sure this gets finished... eventually...