Disclaimer: I do not own a lot of things in this story I will not name all of them, because there are hundreds. Deal with it.

The sunset in the distance beamed with light, as it inch by inch, slid down the earth, but surprised to find, two eyes staring wildly at the departing sun. One man, sitting on his balcony, slowly melted into the beautiful gleam of light. And his name, was Harry Potter. His scar glowed in the small amount of light left in the sky, as he snapped back to his work. He typed away quickly again, continuing his started book. The balcony door opened, and the curtains starting dancing in the wind.

"Evening honey!" A girl walked out to the deck, and glanced out at the open sea before the sunset. The woman placed down her things and gave Harry a kiss on his cheek.

"Hi, Lavender." Harry paused his typing, and glanced up the woman. "Hard day at work?"

"Horrible." She answered. "And my boss wants me to work late for the next weekend. And I need you to plan our wedding."

"What?" He asked surprisingly. "The weekend we're planning our wedding, and you want me to go alone?"

"It's not a lot of trouble. Everybody you need to talk to is at London, but I made a reservation at the plaza there for you."

He sighed. Harry stared back at the woman. "You owe me big time." Harry retorted. The woman smiled and walked back in the house. Harry just stared at the sunset.

Harry entered the beautifully decorated hotel. The plaza was amazing. The marble floors. The marble walls. The gold doorways. The yellow roses. It was beautiful. He took of his coat and hooked it in his arm tightly. He walked to the front desk, dazzled by the place.

"Hello. I'm supposed to have a reservation here?" Before Harry could say more, his coat flew out of his arm. He looked next to him, to see what had happened. He looked next to his left, seeing a woman tumbling next to him.

"Sorry!" She mumbled. "Hi, I'm Hermione Granger, I have a reservation in room 517?" The lady asked another man behind a counter.

"Um, name, sir?" The lady behind the desk asked.

"Potter. Harry Potter."

"Alright then, Mr. Potter, I have a place set for you in 417." The lady handed him a key.

"Thank you." They answered in unison. He walked over to the elevator, finding the woman following there. He stepped inside, and she did, too. He pressed #4, on the elevator buttons, and waited. He stared over at the woman. She had curly, brown hair, and warm brown eyes. He walked out, and walked up to his room. It was just as beautiful as the lobby. He walked up to his desk, and sat down. 'Why not call your friend?'

"Why not?" Harry asked himself, and he picked up the phone.

"Yes, hello? Yes, is this Mr. Weasley?"

"Which 'Mr. Weasley', sir?" An old woman croaked into the phone.

"Um. Ron. Ron Weasley. Is he there?"

"Yes, let me get him."

"Hi, Harry!"

"Was that your mother?"

"Yes."

"Hey, look. I'm in London, planning my wedding. Want to come to dinner at the hotel here?"

"Tomorrow okay?"

"Great!"

"See you then!"

"Bye!"

"Hi Ron!" Harry called from a table at the hotel.

"Hi!"

"What would you two like to drink?" A woman walked over to the table, placing two menus on the table.

"Butterbeer, please."

"Um, coffee." Harry answered.

"Alright then!" The woman took the menus and left.

Harry stared around the restaurant, spotting the lady named Hermione. He might have stared at her for minutes, until Ron interrupted.

"What are you looking at, man?" Ron turned around, spotting the girl. "Wow. You and her…?"

"What?"

"Well, you were staring, and she glanced!"

"I'm engaged!"

"Well… We all can't really trust Brown…"

"Brown?"

"You know. Lavender! The woman your marrying!"

"That's 'Potter', not 'Brown'."

"I know, but I never really liked the two of you as a couple."

"Here you are, coffee and butterbeer!" Ron sipped down his butterbeer and continued talking to Harry.

"I know that she likes you!"

"No, really, we just met in the elevator.

"Play it your way…"

"RON!"

"You want anything else?" A man asked, with menus tightened in his hands.

"Just keep this stuff coming." Ron said pointing at his butterbeer. "And he'll have the brunette over there."

"I'm sorry, we can only offer you dishes from the kitchen."

"I'll just have some of this, Alfredo Pasta." The man left.

"RON!"

Harry said bye to Ron and walked into the elevator.

"Excuse me! Keep the door open!" The woman named Hermione ran towards the elevator, as Harry pressed the 'Door Open' button.

"Thanks." The lady said.

The door continued staying open.

"Um – you waiting, for someone?" The woman asked.

"No." Harry answered. The door stayed open.

"Uh – you need to take your finger off the door open button."

"Oh!" Harry said, removing his finger from the side of the elevator.

"How was your dinner?" The woman asked.

"Great! Yours?"

"Great. I recommend the Washington Salmon."

"I'll remember that."

"Washington had forty-two inches of rainfall this year, you know. And Salmon is London's favorite fish."

"Really?"

"Yes, it's not very popular in America."

"Alright then, bye."

"Oh, bye."

Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip.

Harry annoyingly stepped out of his bed, gazing his eyes on the ceiling.

Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip.

Water came dripping down on his pillow. He picked up the phone.

"Um, I'm in room 417, and water is dripping down like mad. You better send someone or I'm going to need a row boat."

"I'll send somebody straightaway, sir."

"Thanks." He grabbed his pants and shirt and walked to the second fifth floor, seeing a hotel manager and two men with raincoats waiting in front of the apartment '517'. One floor above him. One room above him.

"I've been knocking on the door for hours. Nobody answers." The manager said. Finally the door opened. Hermione Granger, with dripping wet hair, wearing nothing but a robe, walked outside.

"Oh, I'm so sorry! I fell asleep in the bathtub!" The men walked inside the room leaving, Hermione and Harry alone.

"Oh, hi. You live on this floor now?"

"No. I'm just one room below you."

"Oh, did the water come down to your room?"

"It was just a trickle, but I was a little concerned, so I called the front desk."

"Sorry."

"Well, I better go. Goodnight –"

"Hermione."

"Goodnight Hermione."

"You too…"

"Harry Potter."

"Goodnight then Harry." She walked back to her door. "I'll see you around."

"Yeah. I guess I will."

Harry walked himself to the next wedding planner after wedding planner. He came upon the last one, and finally stopped at the salesperson where he would buy the furniture and things for Lavender and his new home.

"Hello there." A woman slowly walked out of a doorway.

"Harry?" Harry turned around, seeing Hermione sitting there.

"Hermione? You're… getting married."

"Yeah. You are too."

"You two know each other?"

"Um, yes."

"Ah. Dated in college?"

"Uh, no. I just flooded his apartment last night."

"I see. I'm Ms. Patil. Just call me Parvati." Harry and Hermione exchanged odd looks.

"So… Do you two want to look at towels or go straight to the bed linens?"