Written for Camp Potter: Fireworks. This is an AU I've been dying to write forever, but please forgive me if it seems rushed.
Hermione waited patiently for her morning coffee at the counter. The quaint store she often frequented was completely empty, with the barista the only one working the machines at the early hour. It was quite a nice shop, with huge, comfy chairs and a nice, homey feel to it. The workers were friendly, polite, and moved quickly.
It was rather unfortunate, in Hermione's opinion, that they didn't get many customers. It was a combination of being squished in between two other buildings, and the location of a nearby Starbucks that stole all their business. However, the appearance of several regulars, like Hermione, had managed to keep them up and running.
The quiet plop of a cup set in front of her jolted her from her thoughts. "Here you go, dear," the woman across the counter beamed at her.
Hermione smiled back. She reached over to take the cup, shifting her book bag higher on her shoulder. With a quiet 'thank you', she walked out the door, simultaneously glancing down at her watch. To her dismay, it was rather early. As in, even if she took her time getting to the university, she would still be an hour early.
"What do I do now?" She muttered under her breath. She stood there in the middle of the pavement for a moment, uncertain. Glancing behind her, she stared at the entrance to the coffee shop. It was a welcoming sight, certainly more appealing than heading to the university to sit alone while reviewing notes. With that thought, she turned around to go back into the shop.
Then something caught her eyes. A flicker, barely there. Hermione frowned, looking around the buildings surrounding the coffee store to see if there was anything out of the ordinary. Squinting slightly, she took a step back.
There!
Right at the corner of her eyes, she spotted a faded store front. It blended in with the other buildings along the street, which explained why Hermione had such a hard time finding it earlier. She walked closer to it, curiosity spiked. It was an old building, with dusty, unclean windows. It was to the point that she could barely see what was inside. Above the building the store sign was equally as battered, with the words faded and unclear. The most she could make out was a 'W' and a 'Bookstore'.
Her eyebrows rose. How could this store have been here without her noticing? She had walked the street for several years, at the very least, and she was certain she had never seen the store before in her life. Hesitantly, she padded forward until she was right in front of the door. Hermione wavered. The coffee store was comfortable and warm, but her curiosity was aroused and the word 'Bookstore' floated in front of her eyes.
She couldn't resist.
Pushing open the door, she took a step in and promptly sneezed.
The place was a mess. Dust covered all the books and floating lightly through the air, the wooden floors looked ancient, and the room was lit with weak, flickering lights. Books were scattered across every surface and tossed carelessly in piles on the ground. The store wasn't very big either, so everything was crammed wherever it could be crammed. The scent of old books permeated the air around her, so unlike the brand-new book smell that was common in bookstores of late. It was a nice change from the usual. The store appeared to be empty.
Hermione slowly wandered over to a nearby bookshelf, finger drifting lightly over the spines. She leaned closer to read over the titles, frowning slightly at them. They were… odd, to say the least. A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration and Dragon Breeding for Pleasure and Profit were common titles in the store.
She carefully slid out a rather thick book, The Standard Book of Spells, and flipped to a random page, skimming through the contents. Was this store for some kind of cult or something? The author seemed to genuinely believe in "magical" powers and "spells". The instructions were extremely specific, including gruesome descriptions of what could happen if you said even a word wrong. Yet for all its oddness, Hermione was strangely fascinated by the book.
"Dad always liked that kind of stuff. We have tons of it in here," a voice came suddenly from behind her.
Hermione shrieked and dropped the book. Heart speeding up as adrenaline rushed through her system; she whirled around and came face to face with a rather broad chest. Looking up, she stared at the sight of a rather tall ginger that had his hands raised defensively.
Hermione was in shock at the sight of a person in a seemingly unoccupied room. As her heartbeat slowed down, she floundered for words. She wasn't the most social person in the best of situations, and the surprise was making it harder for her to form words.
"I, wha— When did you get here?"
His eyebrows rose at that. "I've been here this whole time." He gestured in the direction of the front of the room, where she could barely spot a wooden desk situated in a tiny nook.
"Oh."
Silence settled on them awkwardly, as she stared determinedly down at the ground, and the stranger shifted uncomfortably. His eyes darted towards his desk, as if wanting to escape the situation. Hermione was more than happy to help.
"I, uh, need to go now," she murmured. Vaguely, she noticed the back of his neck slowly burning red.
He nodded in her direction, not meeting her gaze. Embarrassed, she guessed. "Sure," he replied.
Without a backwards look, she quickly made her escape outside, which seemed like an entirely different world after the protected bubble of the odd bookstore. Glancing down at her watch, she sighed again.
She had about an hour left. Too little time to spend in the coffee shop and too much time to arrive at her university. Grumbling internally, she decided she would go to her classroom and review her notes. After all, studying was of the utmost importance and you could never study too much.
Hermione started walked briskly to the bus stop, taking a small sip of her forgotten coffee. She immediately made a face, and swallowed thickly.
It was cold. How perfect.
With an irritated huff, Hermione frowned at the clock. It must be lying. She couldn't have possibly woken up early again for the second time in a row. She was a person who liked precision and a mundane life. What she didn't like was changes in her schedule, including this one.
Rolling over with a groan, she pondered the thought of falling asleep again. The idea was dismissed at once. She already knew she wouldn't be able to, and so with another displeased glance at the clock, she rolled over to get dressed. At least she could control this part of her everyday routine.
Get up. Get dressed. Brush teeth. Eat breakfast. Head out for coffee. Everything was as it normally was.
Except, it wasn't. Hot coffee in her hands, Hermione once again stared at the dusty door of the bookstore from yesterday. She knew she should leave. For some inexplicable reason, she knew deep down inside that once she set foot in there again, her life would never be the same again. As much as she hated cheesy, illogical thoughts like that, she thought it suited the situation pretty well.
Slowly reaching out and gripping the door handle, her thoughts were a chaotic mess of 'go in' and 'don't go in'. As she pushed the door open, the only thing moving faster than her heart was her mind.
'Don't be absurd Hermione,' she chastised herself. 'What makes you think that boy will be there again? For that matter, why are you anticipating this so much?'
She knew the answer though. Because as much as she loved the mundane, the ordinary, and fitting in, she also loved exciting adventures, and standing out. It was the contradiction that came with being human, and she wasn't sure if she loved it or hated it.
The door opened fully. The first thing she spotted in the small room was the red-headed guy from yesterday. He was moving around the bookshelves, seemingly searching for something, instead of at the desk like he was the other day. He didn't seem to notice the sound of the door creaking open, and Hermione wondered whether she should make her presence know, or wait for him to realize.
A couple minutes later, she cleared her throat. He jumped, and stared at her wide-eyes, in a reversed parody of their first meeting yesterday. She gave him what she hoped was a friendly smile.
"Hi, I don't believe we were introduced yesterday. My name is Hermione, Hermione Granger. Pleased to meet you."
He gawked at her. After a moment's pause, he awkwardly shuffled forward and gingerly took her hand.
"Er, Ron. Ron Weasley," he mumbled. Their hands moved slightly up and down, before dropping to their respective sides.
"So," Hermione said, wildly casting around for a conversational topic, "You work here?"
She immediately cursed herself and her stupidity. Of course he worked here! His odd glance at her echoed that statement.
"Er, yeah, my family owns this shop. I guess you go to University," he said, nodding towards her book bag.
She nodded in return. "I, um, think I'll look around."
"Yeah, sure," he said. "Call me if you need anything."
Hermione agreed, and slipped over to a bookshelf in the corner of the room. She hadn't had the chance to fully explore the bookstore the other day, and she was determined to do so today. Once again, she shuffled through the books.
Yesterday, she had thought that the books in the store were all weird and occult-like, but it turned out it was only that particular shelf. The one that she was currently looking at had textbooks and instructional types of books, while the next one over was filled with classic romantic novels. The shelf nearest the boy had sports books messily arranged. The shelves in the middle of the room were overflowing with cookbooks. She absently passed by a shelf filled with nothing but prank idea books.
Finished with her examination of the store, she returned to the desk. To her overwhelming curiosity, Ron had set up a chess board and was playing both sides. He glanced up at the motion.
"Yes?" he asked hesitantly.
"Why are you playing against yourself?" she questioned.
He half shrugged. "There's no one here to play against." He muttered something under his breath that she didn't quite catch.
"I can play with you," she said immediately.
Her eyes widened. She hadn't meant to say that. Ron was staring at her as well, and then slowly, his lips curved in a crooked smile.
She swore her heart stopped.
Face heating up, she quickly turned her back under the pretence of searching for a chair, trying frantically to calm her suddenly fast heartbeat. It didn't work all that well, but it gave her a moment to organize her muddled thoughts.
Dragging a creaky plastic chair to the desk, Ron reorganized the pieces and they began to play. It was tough, with her head so confused, but she managed to hold on until the end where she was mercilessly defeated.
She stared. No matter how disorientated she was, she never lost. Not in studies, and not in chess. So why now?
"Play me again," she said determinedly, her stubborn nature beginning to surface. She would not take a defeat like this lying down.
"Sure," he agreed, with a startled look on his face at her sudden fierceness.
As he set up the board again, she decided to initiate a conversation.
"I'm studying to be a doctor, you see, so I can help people. I think everyone should do their best to make this world a better place."
He snorted at that.
Immediately, an angry flush spread across her face. "What are you laughing at?"
He hunched his shoulders defensively. "Nothing! It's just a bit unbelievable that there are still people like you in the world."
Hermione frowned, unsure whether to take it as an insult or a compliment. She decided on the latter, to avoid any arguments. But the matter was soon swept from her mind as their second game began, and she lost miserably once more.
She crossed her arms in irritation. She didn't get how she kept losing! However, the motion unveiled her watch from its hiding place, and she audibly gasped out loud. She had completely lost track of time, and would have to sprint to catch the bus.
She stood hurriedly. With a loud clatter, the chair fell to the ground. Ron, alarmed, also stood. Hermione waved him off, glancing around frantically for her bag, before realizing it was on her person.
"Um, that was a nice game. I— university, really need to go now. Bye!"
She scrambled out of there like the dogs of hell were behind her, hoping frantically she would make it on time. Since when did she lose so much control of herself? Hermione didn't know, and frankly, it scared her a lot.
She was back. Again.
Really, she didn't know what drew her to the shop so much. She had seen much better bookstores than the one she was currently in, and she didn't frequent them as much. In addition, coming to the store was becoming a dangerous habit; one she didn't know if she could, or wanted, to break.
Sighing, (she seemed to do that a lot these days) she pushed open the door to the shop as she'd been doing for the past week.
The first thing she heard was arguing. Curious, as she'd never seen another person in the store before, she cautiously peeked her head through the entrance. She spotted Ron first, as he was the tallest in the room, and then she focussed on the small red-headed girl in front of him.
A girl.
Hermione stepped out the shop in an instance. Hand clutching the strap of her book bag, and heart pounding wildly, she wondered what she should do. The girl was probably his girlfriend or something, and she really shouldn't interfere with matters like that.
With a heavy, twisting feeling in her gut, she rapidly walked to the bus stop.
Ron glanced anxiously at the door for the nth time that day. He hadn't seen Hermione's face since last week, and he felt himself wondering what happened. Did he do something he shouldn't have, or did she decide she didn't want to bother with him anymore? Or what if she had been in a car accident? He didn't know, and it was slowly killing him inside.
He knew he should probably stop obsessing about a girl he had only met recently, but he just couldn't bring himself to. He knew his family was starting to worry about him. He had been taking all the shifts at the family bookstore they owned without complaint, even asking for more, when he had previously pronounced his hate for the dingy store. But it was his only method of meeting her.
She was just… he didn't even know how to describe her. She was smart, beautiful, passionate, and had a stubborn streak almost as long as his. In the one week she had been in the store, he felt his whole world being slowly flipped on its axis. Not to mention her flustered expression was the most adorable thing he had seen in his life.
This brought him back to worrying about her. He didn't think his nerves could handle anything more.
The door creaked. Ron's head shot up, heart jumping into his throat. Slowly, too slowly, the bushy head of hair that he had become so familiar with came into view. Ron stood up, and casually walked over to her, trying not to seem like he was too eager.
As soon as he caught sight of her face though, his pace sped up as he took on a concerned expression. Hermione's eyes were red-rimmed and black bags hung under her eyes. She looked exhausted and upset.
He touched her elbow worriedly. She shifted away from it.
"What's wrong?" he asked. "You look terrible."
She gave a shaky laugh.
"I just came here to say one thing," she said. "I think… I think I may have fallen in love with you."
Ron was shocked speechless. "What—"
"I know, it's stupid right?" Hermione gave him a tremulous smile. "It really is. So, I'm not going to be coming here anymore. You can stop giving me that stupid smile, and spend some more time with your girlfriend. You should pay more attention to her, and don't get into anymore arguments."
This was moving too fast for him. Her words were confusing him, throwing all his thoughts into confusion. One thing stuck out though.
As she turned to leave for the last time, he reached out to grab her arm. She looked at him, eyes beginning to tear up. "Please don't make his harder for me," she whispered.
"But, I— I don't have a girlfriend," he blurted.
She stopped short. "But, the girl you were arguing with…"
Ron furrowed his brow, struggling to remember what she was talking about. On the first day she didn't come… wasn't that when Ginny came to chastise him? In an instant, his mind cleared as he gauged the situation.
"That was my sister," he said insistently. She stared at him, and he could almost see the cogs in her mind turning slowly. Unknowingly, the tears had started to trail down her face.
Face softening, he stepped closer to her and gently wiped her tears off. She quietly opened her mouth.
"Oh, so… I guess this was all one big misunderstanding," she mumbled. Cheeks starting to heat up, she turned to the door, as if trying to escape. He kept hold of her arm.
"Wait, I have one thing to say as well," he smiled at her, the same one that she had first seen on his face.
"I think I may have fallen in love with you too."
