Over Hot Chocolate

Chapter Four: Attempting to Advance Over Hot Chocolate

Ron Weasley had not grown into the most strapping of lads, although by some he was considered quite charming. He worked as a retired Auror/Ministry administrator (since there was very little mayhem to be dealt with now that Voldemort was gone), got paid a decent salary for what action he sustained and lived in a small, extremely disorderly apartment. He hadn't had a proper girlfriend since Hogwarts, and people would oft say that Hermione Granger had broken his heart. Tall and wirey, with his rugged red hair and two good natured blue eyes (not to mention best friend of the ever popular Harry Potter), many girls would fight tooth and nail to have a chance with him. However, he seemed content to live out his young adulthood in a grove of solitude (punctured only by frequent nights out with bachelor friends). No, Ron Weasley was not antisocial, nor did he brood over his supposed heartbreak. He enjoyed much of his life, drinking Butterbeers and watching Quidditch with other males, as well as roaming lazily about his disorganised apartment.

His flavour was very particular, which is why on Sunday morning, Ginny made sure she had it perfected before pouring it into a Muggle thermos (it was amazing what these people could do without magic), and setting off, Colin in tow, to his apartment. He lived in a Muggle area (who didn't, these days?), on the second floor of a five story building. It was very close to the original Burrow, meaning it was also close to Mrs. Weasley's warm hearth and home cooked food. Ideally, it was the perfect place for someone as independant as Ronald to abide; where the Burrow was a convenient Apparate, and Diagon Alley could be accessed within seconds.

The flavour was bittersweet chocolate and a tiny bit of orange zest. He liked his chocolate shaken, not stirred, so that it became bubbly at the top rather than frothy. He had always been very particular about what he ate (or drank), and this Ginny knew for a fact. After around seventeen years of living in the same house as him, Ginny fancied she knew his habits very well. She also knew that he would be a very hard shell to crack when it came to convincing him to carry out what she had in mind. Already, the idea had been posed to Hermione, whose eyes had simply widened in horror, her oval lips choking out, "But he's my best friend!"

Blaise and Luna had been left together at the café to compile a list of names for Ginny to owl and to specify a list of Malfoy's peeves. Miranda would make sure they were well taken care off--and Luna, Ginny knew, wouldn't cause any trouble with the Slytherin. Whereas Colin might be easily provoked by his witty remarks, Luna was thankfully mild enough to tolerate him. And if Ginny had left the friendly Colin and Luna together and taken Blaise with her instead, her fiery red-headed brother might have had a aneurysm at the prospect of his sister with such a monster, and that monster in his home.

Not surprisingly, Ron welcomed them in wearing nothing but his boxers. His hair was sticking up in all different directions and Ginny could smell his morning breath, even though he was drastically taller than her. It was late on a Sunday morning, and Ginny had anticipated he would be fast asleep at the time of their arrival, which would hopefully be more instrumental in his decision. Meaning, she hoped the fact that he was still half asleep would make him more easily persuaded to play the role Ginny needed him to play. Muttering them in, he padded barefoot into his room, returning with a shirt on just as Colin and Ginny sat down in his plushy, clothing covered couch, having had to dodge the many pairs of shoes strewn about the floor.

The place smelt vaguely of old socks to Ginny, and it had a lonely, almost empty, feel to it (despite the fact that things were thrown about every where, and not an inch had been spared), but Colin seemed right at home. It appeared that all males had a similar way in which they lived, a fact of life that Ginny was just barely coming to terms with. As Ron stumbled into the chair across from her, she found herself wondering what Blaise's flat might look like. Conjuring up a mug from his kitchen, Ginny poured Ron some chocolate as he continued to quarrell quietly to himself, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. Pushing it towards him, he haphazardly took a sip, the drink seeming to steady his motions and allow his eyes to focus further on his guests.

"What are you doin' here so early in the mo?" he questioned, hazily, murmuring into his mug.

The drink was having the desired effect, and Ginny, Ron being her brother and all, decided to skip the formalities and cut right to the chase. Colin stifled a laugh as she leaned forward, causing sleepy-headed Ron to jerk and spill some chocolate down his shirt. He didn't seem to mind, so Ginny continued, "We need you to date Hermione for a while."

Ron's eyes opened wide mid-swallow, and Ginny cursed as she saw the exhaustion clear into disbelief, shock. Then, he began to laugh, just about spitting hot chocolate all over both Ginny and Colin. "You guys," he said, chuckling heartily, and thwapping Colin on the shoulder none too gently, "are bloody hilarious!"

Sheepishly, Ginny took her wand out, cleaning both herself and Colin, as Colin explained. "Actually, we're serious," he said amiably.

Ron sobered immediately, his eyes flashing something akin to anger. "Oh, sod off Creevey. It's not nice to make jokes about that kind of thing."

Ginny thought she saw a moment of hurt in his eyes, but then it was gone. "We're not joking. We...need you to at least pretend to be dating Hermione."

Ron rolled his eyes, obviously trying to contain himself, whether from laughter or anger, Ginny couldn't be sure. "Why would I need to do that? She's dating Malfoy, anyways. They're going to be married, soon enough." He sounded bitter, and for a second Ginny wondered if he was really the right person to be asking.

"She and Malfoy broke up--"

"Oh?" he said, suddenly thoughtful, "Does she know about this?"

He seemed almost hopeful. "Yeah, we asked her already," Ginny said, remembering with a wince Hermione's incredulous reaction, and how she was currently brooding away in her flat, waiting for further news on the issue, "She's agreed to play along."

"Play along?" abruptly, he was angry again, "So what am I? A game or something? Her replacement?"

He had disregarded his hot chocolate. It now sat, steaming on the table before him, and Ginny didn't know if she'd be able to get some into his mouth. "Look," Colin said, with more gentleness than Ginny felt she could have mustered, "We just need to you pretend to be dating her. Look at it as a joke. It's only in public anyways, if Malfoy is around."

Ron seemed deflated. "A joke, then?" He murmured quietly to himself for a while, seemingly deep in thought. "A joke..."

"It won't be for long," Ginny assured him, put off because he wouldn't look her in the eye. Instead, he picked up his mug, took a sip and then studied the contents intently.

"I'll...I'll tell you later," he said, looking up and giving a weak smile, "You caught me at a bad time." He got up to leave, but halfway there he paused. "Don't tell Hermione I reacted like that." He walked, dejectedly, back into his room, and Ginny heard the springs in his bed creak.

Colin looked to her as they were leaving, the thermos left on Ron's coffee table, still filled with warmed hot chocolate. "Your brother is in love with Hermione, you know that right?"

Ginny shrugged. "Maybe," she thought for a second, "I think we should ask someone else to play this role, then. Ron is obviously too moody for it." They closed the door to his old-sock-smelling apartment behind them, and Ginny wondered if she had come across the reason it seemed so empty.

Ginny and Colin hadn't been gone more than five minutes before Miranda bustled her glorious self out of the kitchen (having had one of her assistants temporarily man the kitchens), to present Luna and Blaise with mugs of hot chocolate and cool cheesecake, topped with warmed cherry syrup. Luna reached for a mug, her fingers brushing Blaise's hand as he reached for his. A spark shot up her body, one that she dutifully ignored. She inhaled the hot drink, her nose wrinkling when she was not presented with the familiar smell of tangerines; quickly, she snuck a glance at Blaise to find that he wore a similar expression. This stuff didn't even have whipped cream on it! Nevertheless, she took a sip, grateful for the warm liquid. 'Ginny really does have a gift,' she mused to herself, 'Hot chocolate just isn't as great without her.' Kindly, she thanked Miranda, though only really meant it after her first bite of the succulent cheesecake.

"So," Blaise said after a while. Luna had been enjoying the silence, garnished only by their breathing and the sound of forks hitting plates. It was relatively early on a Sunday morning, meaning there weren't many people at The Burrow, yet. Thus, Luna and Blaise were very practically alone, sitting quietly near the window with only themselves for company. "I suppose we should get to work," he said, and Luna found herself marvelling at his baritone voice.

"Yes," she affirmed, careful not to let her admiration slip into her eyes, or voice. She was a very good actor, and for this she often found herself thankful. "I suppose we should start with Malfoy's peeves. Then move on to who we should have Ginny owl."

It was quiet again, for a moment, and Luna was in awe of the fact that she didn't feel in the least awkward. The only other people who had never considered her weird, and made her feel like it, were her family, Ginny and Colin. Maybe, Zabini wouldn't be so bad after all. He nodded at her statement. "Yes."

He pulled a piece of paper and a self-inking quille out of his bag, brushing a strand of hair that had been teasing his forehead away. Luna sighed to herself, and he looked up questioningly. "That's a very attractive strand of hair." Her voice sounded plain and shameless, but Luna could see a little smile form on his lips. He didn't make any move to fix the hair back into its original place, but as he bowed his head to write, it fell back, a black ribbon against his pale skin. He didn't brush it away again.

From where she sat, she could see his line of neat handwriting, carefully scripted in black ink. There was another silence, where she downed the rest of her hot chocolate, leaning back against her chair. She shifted her feet beneath the table, hurriedly placing them back when she knocked into his outstretched legs. "Sorry," she murmured, even though she wasn't really sorry. He tilted his head slightly, but continued to write. 'Gosh,' Luna thought, 'I wonder if that rumour about Veelas biting people is real...then maybe I should ask him if one ever bit him. I fancy that would explain a bit.'

She told herself that she had been about to ask him, but he spoke first. Luna was not a coward, but for some reason he made her a little--just a little--nervous. "Well, here they are," he said, sliding the paper over to her side of the small, round table. She met him halfway, their fingers brushing to send the hairs on the back of Luna's arm up again. She scanned the points quickly.

5. Orders the most expensive thing on the menu...and doesn't eat much.

4. Doesn't leave after sex, just lays there expecting to be cuddled and talked to.

3. Only cators for self during sex, then leaves.

2. Thinks relationship is going somewhere.

1. All of the above.

By the time she was finished, there was a small smile itching her lips. "These are, surprisingly, quite valid," Luna said, looking up to find his wintery green eyes looking intently at her. It startled her a bit, but she returned the gaze.

"Really?" he asked, boredly. But Luna could see the interest in his eyes.

"Yeah," she said, smiling ruefully, "If someone orders the most expensive thing, they should definitely eat it."

"Would you like to be left alone after sex, though?" he asked, quite blatantly, and Luna could see his eyes glitter. She fought down a blush, her eyes falling in what she hoped was a contemplative way to his interlaced fingers.

"Well, I suppose not," it felt strange saying aloud, to someone like him, "But some people do." She found herself thinking he had nice hands.

"...I don't."

The comment made her shift uncomfortably in her seat, and when she looked up to his face, he was smirking satisfactorily. "Oh," she said, flinching when she sounded breathless. There was another silence, and now, even though Luna tried with all her might to make it seem awkward, or strange, it just felt uncannily comfortable. She blinked a few times, before she figured her composure had been successfully regained. "We need five separate girls then," she said, happy to have thought of a topic changer.

"Girls--?"

"One for each peeve," she cut him off before he could say anything sarcastic. She could have already sensed the sarcasm waiting in his voice. Idly, she told him, "You have two types of voices. One is normal, though it has different facets. The other is sarcastic, and it's very one-sided and uninteresting." She saw him gape, offended, out of the corner of her eye, but continued back onto subject. "I suppose I could play one girl, and Ginny could play another. So, really, we only need three girls."

There was another silence. It was obviously Blaise's turn to regain his composure. "Did you just insult me, Lovegood?" he asked, and she could hear his voice dripping incredulity. It wasn't an angry voice, it was a disbelieving one.

"This is your normal voice. I like it," she paused, "Sometimes, the truth hurts."

For the first time, she saw him smile--grin--a large, wide and thoroughly dazzling smile that made her smile, too.

They sorted out what they had to, and Blaise didn't try anymore sarcastic remarks on her. Luna was greatful for that, because she knew that, if engaged in a battle of wits with him, she would most definitely lose. For some reason, she didn't want to lose to him...much. It was a strange feeling that grew in the pit of her stomach--so strange, in fact, that she was afraid that if she let it take over for even a second, it would wholly consume her. Of course, all of this was abandonned once they engaged in an argument about whether the myth about Re'em blood could actually be true. To Luna's surprise, Blaise was very well informed about the beasts. One day, she mused, he might even be able to argue her out of believing that their blood could, if drunk in copious amounts, turn a wizard into a Runespoor. After all, in areas where the blood was drunk, there had been an increase in missing persons and in Runespoors.

That aside, she would always testify that the reason their hands continued to brush together throughout the course of the morning was because Miranda had been tricked into placing thankfully dormant (and gratefully deceased, once they reached a human stomach) Streeler eggs into the cheesecake batter. Not that she would blame the poor woman, but you know, you had to be really careful these days.

Author's Note: Voila! I hope you guys liked it...I think something is becoming apparent :-o ! Next chapter, hopefully next week. Read annndd REVIEW, please :-) Also, if you have the book "Fantastic Beasts & Where to Find Them", you will know what I'm talking about when I say Re'em, Runespoor and Streeler. Read up on'em ! Hope nothing was too OoC.

Again, do review!