AN: Written for Romione Week, Day 6 - Alternative Universe.
Hermione's parents have whisked her away for a break after she almost had a nervous breakdown over her university week. Whilst there, she bumps into someone who tries his best to cheer her up.
Hermione drains the last of her bitter, lukewarm coffee from the chipped white cup, then sets it back on the table, wincing at the clatter as the china meets the Formica surface. Her parents are still embroiled in a conversation she doesn't know enough about to join in, something about dentistry and the latest way of filling cavities. With a small sigh, she shifts her attention out of the steamed-up windows, watching as the waves crash up and over the flood defences, foam spraying over the sea wall and soaking unsuspecting walkers as they struggle against the early winter weather.
Whoever thought going to the seaside in November was a good idea should be shot.
Guilt squirms in her stomach like a hundred wriggling worms as she casts a sideward glance at her mum and dad. They were the ones who forced her away for a long weekend, worried she was spending too much time studying and was only one more late-night away from complete burnout.
"University is hard, but it's what I expected," she had reasoned before bursting into tears, taking her mother by surprise.
Hermione drums her fingers against the edge of the table, the memory of her near breakdown unsettling her. Jean and Hugo Granger, always busy in their day jobs, are happy to sit around, wasting away the hours watching the meagre groups of holidaymakers as they bustle up and down the promenade, but being still makes Hermione anxious.
Across the street, the bright lights of the fairground catch her attention, flashing bright reds, yellows and whites through the grey afternoon sky.
"I'm going to go for a walk."
Hermione gets to her feet as the words spill out of her mouth. She pushes her body away from the metal chair before stepping around the table.
Jean lifts her head and throws a smile at Hermione. "Do you want us to come with you? We've almost finished here."
"No, no. It's fine. I'll wander over to the fairground and back. You stay here in the warmth. I won't be too long."
Hermione wraps her long red and gold scarf around her neck and pulls her matching bobble hat over her mess of curls. Once she's sure her coat is done up nice and tight, she gives her parents a quick wave before stepping out into the cold.
⁂
She follows the call of the bright lights, the wail of the rides and the loud thump-thump of the music that pulsates through her body to the fairground. Although Hermione has no desire to risk her life on a rickety ride, she stops next to the first one she reaches, watching it spin its riders around whilst simultaneously throwing them into the air.
"Would the pretty girl like to try her hand at winning a prize?" a voice shouts, barely audible over the screams of the riders.
Hermione ignores it at first. Nobody has ever referred to her as pretty, apart from her parents, and she makes an automatic assumption that the owner is talking to someone else.
"Ahhh, come on. Don't give me the cold shoulder."
She glances left then right, looking for whoever this man might be speaking to, but there's nobody there. It's only her, wrapped up warm against the elements, watching the crazy ride as it winds down to a halt. With a sigh, Hermione turns around, a frown appearing on her face as she takes in the gangly red-headed man waving at her.
Not knowing what else to do, since she's never been propositioned by an unknown man before, she points to herself.
"Yeah, you. I don't see any other beautiful women standing around here." He leans against the side of the stall, lazily tossing a ball up and down. "Why don't you come and have a go at my coconut shy. It's only a quid for three balls, and if you knock one coconut down, you can have a prize."
Usually, Hermione would turn around and ignore the man, who only compliments her to improve his takings. But her feet work of their own accord, shifting her closer to the rain-soaked, red and white striped tent.
"Aren't these stalls fixed? I mean, nobody wins at them, do they?" she asks, trying to keep her voice light, although her inner sceptic always wins.
The man clutches his hand over his heart, his face creased in a wounded look. "Are you calling me a fraud? There I was, being nice to you, and you accuse me of cheating!"
Taken aback, Hermione stutters, "N-no. I didn't mean that. I-I thought that carnies make their stalls notoriously difficult to stop people from taking the 'prizes'. They're designed to only allow a couple of winners a day, to maximise your profits."
"That's the second insult in as many minutes. I was looking forward to cheering up your dreary day. Do I look like a dishonest man to you, Miss?"
"Hermione," she says, stepping up and placing both hands on the counter. She eyes the man, taking her time to explore his features. He's all sharp angles and looks more like a bag of spanners than the usual beer-filled students she sees at university. But, the man has deep blue and kind-looking eyes, although she spots the sparkle of mischief straight away.
Everything about him makes her want to trust him, and Hermione is the type who never trusts a stranger.
"Well, 'Mione—"
"It's Hermione," she interrupts, a frown appearing on her face.
"Well, Hermione, why don't you give it a try? It's only a pound, after all."
Despite every inch of her shouting that she should walk away, her hand sinks into her pockets, digging around the change from the arcades earlier and eventually pulling out a shiny gold coin. She presses it into the stall owner's hand then steps back as a buzz of electricity passes between them, causing her heart to speed up.
Peculiar.
Shaking the strange feeling off, she takes the three balls once he's placed them on the counter and squares up against the stall. Narrowing her eyes, Hermione lifts her arm and pulls it back, making sure she's lined up properly before releasing the first ball and…
"Well that was a clear miss," the man chuckles. "Do you need glasses to see better?"
"It was a warm-up shot!"
His laugh gets louder as he searches for the ball at the back of the stall then passes it back to Hermione.
"Tell you what, then, you can have that one for free."
Hermione tries again, throwing ball after ball at the line of coconuts until her hands are empty, but all the fruit remain standing.
"See! I'm sure two of my balls hit that middle coconut, and it hasn't even budged. A complete fix!"
"Ah, you're right." The man frowns at the coconut, then reaches out and swats it off its post. A loud cheer fills the stall, the sound warming her right down to the bone. "I said you could do it if you put your mind to it."
He reaches into the bucket full of stuffed toys, his tongue poking out in concentration before pulling out a ginger cat. "Here's your prize, Hermione. From now on, every time you see this ugly being, it'll remind you of me and your wonderful holiday in Paignton."
Giggles erupt from her mouth as she pulls the stuffed cat close to her chest. She can't help it; the man's enthusiasm is infectious.
"Thank you, uhm…" she trails off as she realises she hasn't even asked him his name.
"Ron Weasley! Pleasure to meet you, Hermione." He holds out his hand.
As she takes it, another buzz of electricity spreads from the warmth of his palm, radiating along her own fingers and up her arm before shivering down her spine. There's something about Ron Weasley that's strangely intriguing, and she's desperate to learn more.
Hermione opens her mouth, searching for the right words to ask that'll get her the most information out of him when she hears her name being called across the hubbub of the fairground. She swivels her head to the left and spots her parents approaching. Quickly, she pulls her hand out of Ron's grip before they spot it.
"That's my mum and dad. I guess I should get going, let you get back to misleading the many holidaymakers on Paignton Pier. Thank you for my prize, Ron." As his name leaves her lips, her heart skips a beat, bringing a smile to her face.
"It's my pleasure. Maybe if you get a quiet minute, you could pop by and try your hand at winning another prize? I'm here every day this week! And you never know, if you keep on practising, your aim might get better!"
A lopsided grin fills his face as he talks, sending Hermione's pulse racing.
"Perhaps. I'm not going home until Sunday, but we have a lot of plans." She smiles back.
"Oh sure, of course! Paignton is full of tourist things to do." Ron's voice drips with sarcasm as his eyes flit to Hermione's parents. "Well, I'll see you around. Perhaps."
"Maybe."
Hermione gives him one last smile before turning to fall into step with her parents, directing them away from the stall and the new man she's eager to learn more about. Her mood has lifted, and the stress of her past couple of months of studying falls from her shoulders after only one encounter with Ron, the coconut shy man.
She already knows she'll be back for more.