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They pushed open the door to the Three Broomsticks. Warmth hit instantly, fire roaring, chatter loud, and the scent of butterbeer and roasted meat drifting through the air.
They slid into the booth near the back, out of the draught from the door. Two butterbeers thudded down, the mugs warm to the touch.
Astoria took a sip, then leaned her elbows on the table. "So," she said, eyes gleaming with mischief, "who is next, then?"
Harry didn't look up from tearing the corner off his napkin. "Haven't got a calendar for it. Not collecting trophies."
She giggled behind her mug. "Could've fooled me. You've practically got a schedule already."
"Yeah, well," Harry said, "not my fault the lot of you are competitive."
Astoria smirked. "Don't pin this on us. You are the one swanning about with fan mail and first dances."
He gave her a flat look. "One dance. And half of those letters go straight to the fire."
"Flames of modesty," she said dramatically, raising her butterbeer.
The door creaked open behind them, and Susan stepped in with Ginny just behind her, both dusting off the snow. Susan spotted them and waved before heading over, scarf slipping down from her shoulder.
"Still warm?" she asked, sliding into the seat next to Harry.
"Just," he said, nudging the mug her way.
Susan stole a sip of Harry's butterbeer before ordering her own. "Did you get anything?"
"Couple frogs. One with Flamel's card again," he said.
"Trade you for an Oracle," she offered.
Harry considered. "If you throw in a chocolate cauldron."
Susan leaned back. "You drive a hard bargain."
Tracey and Luna breezed in next, cheeks pink from the cold. Tracey flopped into the last seat with a groan. "Note to self, don't race a Ravenclaw over snowdrifts."
"I warned you," Luna said, settling beside Ginny. "The wind favours me."
Harry raised an eyebrow. "That a magical thing or a confidence thing?"
"Both," Luna said cheerfully, ordering mulled pumpkin cider without checking the menu.
Tracey peered at Astoria. "So. What scandal are we crafting today?"
"Harry's harem," Astoria said sweetly.
"Oh, we are back to that," Tracey said, lifting her mug. "Wonderful. I've got notes."
Ginny shook her head. "You lot are insufferable."
"You are just bitter because he hasn't kissed you yet," Tracey shot back.
"I am not twelve," Ginny said, snorting. "I don't keep score."
"Mm," Luna hummed. "But if you did, you would be one ahead of Hermione."
Susan raised a brow. "You keeping tally now, Lovegood?"
"Just observing," she said dreamily, blowing on her drink.
Harry leaned his elbow on the table and looked over the lot of them. "Are we doing a proper rota now or just drawing names out of a hat?"
Astoria clapped once. "Brilliant idea. I will get parchment."
"No, you won't," Daphne said, stepping up behind them with Pansy in tow.
They shuffled to make room. Daphne slipped in beside Ginny, Pansy perched elegantly on the arm of the next chair.
"You are late," Tracey said.
"You are early," Daphne replied, unwrapping her scarf. "Had to stop Pansy from hexing a clerk."
"He insulted my taste," Pansy said coolly. "I corrected him."
"With a stinging hex," Daphne muttered.
Harry snorted. "And people say Hogsmeade is quiet."
"It is. We just liven it up."
Butterbeers kept arriving, and plates of chips, sausage rolls, and some suspiciously fresh treacle tart were soon spread across the table. Conversation rolled between Quidditch, the new duelling drills.
Ginny leaned across the table. "We doing Hogsmeade again next weekend?"
"I've got patrol," Hannah said. "Might need to swap with Ernie."
"Tell him you will cover his Herbology notes," Tracey suggested. "He is easy to bribe."
Astoria leaned closer to Harry. "So, this date with Susan. You going to make her a crown or just hand her a badge?"
Susan rolled her eyes. "You are more obsessed with this than I am."
"She is obsessed with everything," Tracey said. "It is charming. In a mildly worrying way."
"I am a creature of curiosity," Astoria said, flicking a chip at her.
Harry caught it mid-air and popped it into his mouth.
"Show-off," Ginny muttered.
Harry got up slowly, brushing crumbs off his coat. "I am the best Seeker of the century. That was just a free demonstration," he said, smirking. He offered his hand like they were about to waltz into a ballroom, not just walk down a village street. "Shall we, m'lady?"
Susan rolled her eyes but took his hand anyway. "Only if you promise not to run off halfway through."
"I make no promises," he said, guiding her away from the table.
Astoria called after them, voice full of teasing. "If you trip over your own feet, I am claiming next turn by default!"
Harry didn't turn. "You will have to get in line, Greengrass."
Tracey waved her butterbeer. "You've started something now, Potter."
He threw a glance over his shoulder. "Haven't I always?"
Harry didn't let her hand go as they left the Three Broomsticks. Susan blushed a bit, but leaned into his side, not trying to hide it. The street outside had gone quieter, just a few students drifting between shops, breath fogging in the cold air. Snow clung to the cobbles, slushed in places from boots, but still mostly white.
"So," Susan said, her fingers tightening slightly, "where are we walking?"
Harry gave a small shrug. "Nowhere special. Figured we would circle round and pretend we are not avoiding the others."
She grinned. "Sounds about right."
They passed the post office, where a few owls blinked lazily behind the frost-glazed glass. A group of third-years shuffled by, arguing over sugar quills and who snogged who during the holidays.
As they reached the last bend in the road, Harry glanced around... no one nearby, just trees and a bit of frost crunching underfoot. He stopped, pulled Susan gently by the hand to face him, eyes on hers.
"What I am about to do is technically illegal," he said, "Could get us both expelled."
Susan didn't flinch. "Then best make it worth it."
He cracked a smile, just tightened his grip and with a sharp twist, Disapparated them both with a snap of air. They landed in a quiet Muggle street tucked somewhere in west London. The kind of place where everyone minded their business.
A few paces down, they slipped into a café. Warm, with that sort of slightly dated decor every high street had, dark wood, vinyl seats, and a laminated menu that hadn't been redesigned since the seventies.
A bell chimed as they walked in. A woman behind the counter glanced up. "Welcome, loves," she called with a smile, already wiping her hands on a tea towel. The place was warm, smelled like toasted bread and something sweet baking out the back. Only a few people were seated, a couple of elderly blokes nursing mugs near the window, and a girl in uniform tapping at a crossword.
Harry guided Susan towards a corner booth by the radiator, and she dropped onto the seat with a contented sigh. He slid in opposite, unwrapping his scarf and shoving it into the side of his coat.
Susan pulled her gloves off finger by finger, then blew into her hands. "Could've warned me about the side trip," she said, but there wasn't any bite to it.
Harry glanced around. "That is half the fun."
Susan rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. "You planning to stay in hiding, then?"
"Just long enough to enjoy a toastie," Harry said. "They've got proper cheese. None of that cheap sliced rubbish."
The woman behind the counter came over with a pad in hand. "Alright, dears. What will it be?"
"Cheddar and tomato toast," Harry said. "And a strong black tea."
Susan scanned the menu. "I will have the same, but with that ginger cake if you've still got it."
"Course," the woman said with a wink, jotting it down. "Back in a minute."
Their food arrived not long after, plates clinking down with a hiss of melted cheese and hot bread. The woman handed over two mugs of tea and set the cake slice between them. "On the house," she said. "You two look like you've come a fair way."
"Thanks," Susan said warmly.
Harry nodded. "Appreciated."
They ate without much talking at first. The toast was hot and crisp, cheese stringing slightly when pulled apart. Susan blew on hers before taking a bite, then hummed. "Alright, this was worth the kidnapping."
Harry gestured with a chip. "Told you."
"Still illegal."
"Only if we get caught."
After finishing, Harry walked up to her side and slung an arm around her shoulder. Susan leaned in without hesitation, though her cheeks coloured slightly. They sat like that before, plenty of times, after duels or over study breaks, but now it was technically a date. That shifted the air a bit, just enough to notice.
"You are warm," she muttered, nudging him slightly.
"I am always warm," Harry said. "That is why you always snuggle with me."
"Regretting it deeply."
"Liar."
The rest of the date was casual. They walked hand in hand back through the village, Susan's fingers curling into Harry's like they been doing it for years. Occasionally bumping shoulders when someone passed too close.
Susan pointed out a tiny bookstore near the far end of the street, one of those spots with crooked shelves and second-hand spell books piled in the window like a challenge. "You ever been in there?"
"Once," Harry said. "Bought a book on cursed teaspoons. Still don't know if it was Muggle satire or a Magical Book somehow ended up in here."
"Could've been useful," she said, tugging him toward the door.
She ended up deciding it was just a Muggle bookshop after all, dusty covers, yellowed pages, nothing even twitching. Bit of a letdown, really. No odd magical tingle, no invisible staircase tucked behind a poetry shelf. Just shelves and a sleepy old cat under the heater.
Leaving the little bookshop behind, they made their way up the narrow hill just past the edge of the village. It wasn't particularly high, but it gave a clear view of the town.
"This is it," Susan said, nudging his arm reluctantly. "Time to return."
She didn't move though.
She looked up at him, cheeks still touched with pink from the cold, or maybe not just the cold. Harry's hands found her face, one thumb brushing near the edge of her hairline like it was just habit by now.
"You know," Susan said, voice even, "I might've got the first date…"
Harry arched a brow. "But?"
She tilted her head, smug. "Not the first kiss."
He didn't drop his hands. "So who did?"
Susan grinned. One of those crooked ones that always meant trouble. "Wouldn't you like to know."
Harry blinked once. "You are not serious."
"I am always serious," she said, stepping back a touch, hands finding her coat pocket like she hadn't just lobbed a grenade into the conversation.
Harry let out a sharp breath that might've been a laugh. "Right. Well. Now I've got a mystery on my hands."
"You've always had mysteries on your hands," Susan said, brushing a bit of snow off his sleeve. "One more won't kill you."
He gave her a look. "We will see."
"Pansy is going to quiz me for details."
"Tell her I held your hand like a proper gentleman."
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