By: Carrie H Potter
Rating: PG-13 (T)
Pairing: HP?
Genre: Humor/Romance
Summary: In the midst of the plans for his wedding, Ronald Weasley can't help but notice that his best friend, Harry Potter, is still completely alone. So, he tries to set Harry up with his perfect someone. Bad idea. (slash HP?)
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Harry Potter characters. The story, however, is my own, my preciousssss (LOTR rocks!).
Dedication: This fic is dedicated to the best friend a girl can have: Rebecca Smith. Happy Belated Birthday, Beck!
A/N: this started out as a one-shot, but then i realized that i wanted to put too much in it…so i decided to split it up…it shouldn't be more than seven or eight chapters, i think…and the chapters probably won't be as long as mine usually are…at least this one isn't…other than that…i'm still grounded but mommy's being merciful and letting me post this…the fifth chap of KF-DI is coming along nicely…and that's really all that's new…i really like this one and i hope you enjoy it…
Chapter 1- Roses or Orchids?"Roses or orchids?"
Harry Potter blinked at his best friend, "Come again?"
Ron Weasley sighed, "Focus, mate, focus! 'Mione wants my answer by tonight! So, roses or orchids?"
"Uhh, Ron, why is she asking you about the flowers?"
"I don't know. Guilty conscience or something. She's planning practically the whole thing by herself anyway."
"Yea, but flowers?"
"Look, Har, she asked my opinion on this one thing and I really wanna make a good decision for her."
"So, why are you asking me?"
"What the bloody hell do I know about flowers?" Ron wailed, looking panicked.
"Here, here!" Harry said sarcastically.
Ron started to fidget, "So, you really can't help me? I mean, I thought seeing as your, well, umm, you know, and all…"
Harry rolled his eyes, "Oh honestly, Ron! Just because I'm gay doesn't mean that I know anymore about this stuff than you do! Please."
Ron turned bright red, "I know, I know. I was just, you know, hoping," he let out a long, exaggerated sigh, "Mione's gonna kill me."
Harry wearily rubbed his temples, "Fine. Roses."
"Huh? What?" Ron looked at him curiously.
"God help Hermione," Harry muttered to himself and then said louder, "Roses, Ron. Go with the roses. White ones," he added as an afterthought.
"Thanks, mate," Ron sounded incredibly relieved, "you're a life saver!"
"What flavor?" Harry asked mischievously.
Ron blinked at him, "What was that, Har?"
Harry sighed, "Never mind." Why didn't anyone ever get that joke? "I've gotta go now. I'm late for practice."
"Oh, alright then. Good luck," Ron smiled as Harry grabbed a handful of floo powder and stepped in front of the fireplace. "Oh, and Harry?"
Harry turned to look at him, "Yea?"
"Who're you taking to the wedding? 'Mione wants to send him an invitation, just to be polite or something," Ron rolled his eyes at his fiancé's antics.
"No one," Harry shrugged, "I'm going stag," and he threw the powder into the fireplace and walked in. He shouted, "Godric's Hollow!" and with a wave, disappeared.
Ron stared at the ebbing green flames. He was worried about Harry always being alone. He ALWAYS went stag. He'd have to talk to Hermione about this.
&#&
"I'm worried about him, 'Mione," Ron said quietly later that evening, "He's always alone when he's not with us."
Hermione Granger (soon to be Weasley) looked at the list in front of her, "What flowers did you pick, Ron?"
"White roses. Now pay attention! Our best friend's happiness could be at stake!" Ron huffed.
"I am paying attention, Ronald Weasley! You're worried that Harry's still single and you want to help him. I suggest you set him up on a blind date. Use my address book. There's a little 'G' next to the men Harry would like." At Ron's confused look, she shrugged, "Don't ask. Anyway, run along and make your fire-calls. I need to finish this," and she continued adding things to her list. Never subtracting, always adding.
Ron looked at her in awe, "Thanks, 'Mione. I love you," and he kissed her on the head before hurrying out of the room. A smile tugged at the corner of Hermione's mouth.
&#&
"No, No, NO. No way, no how, no chance. God, Ron, what part of no don't you understand?" Harry glared at his best friend.
Ron looked at him unsympathetically, "The N-O part," he responded sarcastically. He started to push Harry toward the door of Pierre's, a fancy French restaurant.
Harry wouldn't budge, "No, Ron! I don't want to go on a blind date! I don't want to date at all! I'm happy the way I am!"
"That's what they all say," Ron countered calmly, still pushing.
"But it's true! Really! Yo ho, yo ho, a bachelor's life for me!" Harry was starting to sound hysterical, "Did Hermione put you up to this?"
Ron sighed and spun Harry around to face him, "No, she didn't Harry. Look, I know it's hard. This is the first time you're being asked to be intimate with someone since Ginny in sixth year. That was three years ago, mate. You need this." As Harry started to argue once more, Ron covered his mouth, "Please? For me? What have I ever really asked of you all these years?"
Harry's shoulders slumped in defeat, "Oh, all right," he said grudgingly.
"Excellent," Ron replied enthusiastically, and as he pushed Harry through the door, he added, "The reservation's under 'Potter'. Have fun, mate," and he was gone.
Harry set his mouth in a grim line, determined to get this night over with as quickly as possible. He slowly walked up to the maitre'd, who smiled and asked, "Name?" This was the kind of place where reservations were the only thing accepted.
"Umm, Potter," Harry muttered. The man nodded, and with another smile, beckoned Harry to follow him through the maze of tables. They reached the back of the restaurant and a secluded corner. The maitre'd nodded to the little table tucked away in the quaint spot, so Harry took a deep breath, walked over, and looked down at the table's occupant.
"Neville?" Harry asked incredulously.
Neville Longbottom blushed, "Hi, Harry."
"You're gay?" Harry was still shocked.
"Umm, yes," Neville said nervously, "Maybe this was a mistake," and he started to get up.
"No, no, it's fine," Harry said tiredly, running a hand through his hair and feeling guilty. After all, it wasn't Neville's fault that Harry was…
"Sirs, if you're ready, I'll tell you the specials," the maitre'd said loudly, looking amusedly at the scene in front of him.
It was Harry's turn to blush. He quickly took his seat, "Yes, we're ready."
"Excellent. The fish of the day is…" As the man talked, Harry studied Neville (who was staring unblinkingly at the maitre'd). He'd grown, that was for sure. Harry hadn't really kept in touch with anyone, save for Ron and Hermione. It was seven years that he'd rather forget. Well, that wasn't completely true. There were also a lot of good memories that he wanted to hold onto forever.
But Neville looked good. The last time Harry had seen him was two years ago at the party celebrating Voldemort's demise. Neville had been so happy, because since the bastard was finally dead, the spell he'd put on his parents (it had turned out to be a spell instead of Crucio torture) was lifted. As of tonight, he'd grown a few more inches (Harry would bet 5'9 or 5'10), lost a fair amount of weight, and lost the childish characteristics his face used to showcase. He'd tuned into a man. 'A handsome man at that,' Harry admitted to himself.
"-and the soup is French Onion Soup. Enjoy your meals," and the maitre'd walked away.
Picking up his menu, Harry smiled hesitantly at Neville, "So, how are your parents?"
Neville grinned, "Oh, they're great! Making up for lost time is what they keep saying. I just think they're nuts!" When he realized what he'd said, he burst out laughing.
Harry laughed too, happy Neville was finally able to smile about it all, "Well, that's wonderful. I would love to visit them sometime," and he meant it.
Neville smiled softly, "They'd like that. After all, you are the reason they're sane again. Though, sometimes I wonder…" the corner of his mouth twitched. In a moment, they had both collapsed with laughter again.
Harry wiped the corner of his eye, "It's great to see you again, Nev. What are you having?"
Neville frowned at the menu (it was mostly in French) and shrugged, "I don't know. Escargot I guess. One, because I've always wanted to try it, and two, it's the only French dish I know," he started to chuckle again.
Harry grinned, "Yea, I know what you mean. I think I'll have that, too."
Just then, a waiter appeared, "Hi! Welcome to Pierre's. I'm Louis and I'll be your server for this evening. May I get you something to drink?"
Harry looked up at him, "Yes, and we're ready to order, as well." After they each ordered escargot, Harry insisted on also getting a bottle of their finest wine. "Don't worry about it," he assured Neville as Louis walked away, "Live a little. France is famous for its wine. That's where it was invented, right? So, no worries."
Neville nodded grudgingly, "Alright. Thank you, Harry."
"No problem," Harry flashed him a smile. Then a thought struck him. This was technically a date, so he'd better not flirt with Neville and give him the wrong idea.
Their meals arrived a short time later, and they conversed easily throughout dinner. They both ordered Crème Brule for desert and Neville commented on how much they had in common. Harry agreed, albeit reluctantly.
Harry insisted on paying, though Neville protested a considerable amount. Harry argued that he had more money than he could ever use in his lifetime, and so, Neville finally gave in.
They exited the restaurant and walked slowly down the street. "So, Harry, you seek for the Canons, right?" Neville asked casually, trying to keep up the steady flow of conversation.
"Yup. For the past two years. And mind you, we've won the League Cup the past two years as well. First time in one hundred and five years," he added sheepishly.
Neville let out a low whistle, "Wow. That's a long time. Thank God they've got you as their Seeker. You haven't lost a game since what, third year? But, Harry, what inspired you to join the worst club in the League?"
"Ron," Harry said simply, "I knew how much it'd mean to him if his best friend played on his team. And plus," Harry winked, "whenever he gets mad at me, all I have to do is remind him of it."
Neville grinned, "Good thing, that is." They walked in silence for a few moments, until Neville stopped abruptly and turned to Harry, "Harry, can I see you again?"
Harry sighed and turned as well. This was the moment he'd been dreading. "Neville, I'm gonna be honest with you. You're a great guy, but I'm not in the market for a boyfriend right now. I'm alone and I'm content," he said honestly, fearfully awaiting Neville's reaction.
Neville shrugged, "It's ok, Harry. I've always liked you, even back at school. You're a great guy, too. But, Harry, promise me this."
"Anything."
"If you ever come on the market, give me a call first," he winked, swiftly leaned in to press a kiss on Harry's cheek, and stepped into the alleyway to their right. With a crack, he disapparated. He certainly had changed.
Harry rubbed his eyes wearily and also entered the alley. He apparated home and slumped against the front door. 'What a night,' he thought tiredly, 'I certainly don't want to face Ron in the morning.' Then, he grinned and hurried to his bedroom, quickly undoing his tie.
To be continued…
A/N: so yea…that's only the beginning…it was short and kinda lacking in laughs…but this chap was necessary in setting up the rest of the fic…i can guarantee you that the rest of this fic will at least be better than this…though, i kinda liked forceful!Ron and sexy!Neville…heh heh…but that's just me…also…this isn't a Harry/Neville…but the pairing might also not be what you think ((grins nastily))…but Neville will make at least one more appearance…and so will their waiter, Louis…you guys can guess at who Harry ends up with if you want…but i will say this…you ain't seen nothing yet…
also…though i like this fic quite a bit…Knock First, Damn-it is my #1 priority right now…so don't expect another chapter of this for at least three weeks…and that's counting on my mother dearest being nice…so yea…ummm…please review even if you liked it a little…and no flames I beg of you!…this might not be the bestest chapter ever…but flames make me cry (a lot!)…anyways…cheers for now!