j/k.
Anyway, you may wonder why I am posting something earlier than I thought I would. Well. It's just that I got really annoyed with the Simply Irresistible series not being finished, or anywhere near finished. So, in spite of completely forgetting the plot, I am going to carry on as best I can w/o my normal computer and the stuff I already have typed up on that. OK?
I've got a smegging cold so I decided to make the most of it and write up this part. It's shorter than the rest, but hey. I really need some Sudafed…
And if you don't get what is happening, read (and hopefully review) the other parts in the series. There's only two others, so it's not like you're out to save the world or anything.
"Hey. Your meal came with dessert."
"Oh. Nice to see you here! What's this?"
Hermione gave Ron the box and looked as he opened it with the sense of a small child opening a Christmas gift. That led her on to wonder what she would get him for Christmas- it was only a few weeks away. Then she went on to think about what she would be getting their children… woah! Slow down Hermione! She thought to herself. It was no use thinking about stuff that wouldn't happen. But there was something between them, she was sure of it...
"Wow! Custard éclairs...." Ron nibbled at the end of one. "Vanilla..." He took another bite. "Creamy…" Another bite. "Yet crunchy..." Another bite. "Delicious..." Yet another bite. "These are… mmm… despicable!" Hermione looked up, shocked. "Just kidding." Ron said, grinning. "Why have I…. (crunch) never tasted one before?"
"Well… after you left, and had actually enjoyed my meal, I wondered why I got no customers. So I thought I'd try out a new dessert. And, well… this is it."
"Wow! How can you get no customers? This is unbelievable!"
"Well, I don't know. My… mum… was a… better cook… than me…" Hermione spoke in bursts, trying not to cry at the fact that her mother was dead. She'd died in a strange way, there were no marks on her at all. Sybill had walked into the room and just found her, dead on the floor, eyes open, staring.
"Oh… where's your mum now?" Ron said, unaware of the situation. Hermione looked at him, tears in her eyes. "What…? Oh?" He said, trying to read her expression. "OH! Oh, I'm so sorry! Oh... God… Eugh… Oh Ron you idiot! I'm so sorry Hermi, I didn't know." There it was, that nickname again. How could she be the slightest bit upset with him when he said her name that way, eyes filled with empathy. "I'm so sorry… I know how it feels to loose a member of the family… one of my brothers died…"
"Oh? Who?"
"Percy… he worked for the… government… but got into the...er… crime… business…"
"Oh… Percy Weasley? I heard about that on the news. I'm so sorry…"
"Well, I guess we're in it together then, hey?"
"Yeah…" There was a moment of silence. "But, you know, these éclairs could taste better… I had to use a plain vanilla pod… but there's a special plant that has flowers that give an even better vanilla taste."
"Really?"
"Yeah."
"So, what were you here for?"
"Plates."
"Plates?"
"Yeah… you said you'd replace them for me… Oh God, you did, didn't you?"
"Yes. Don't worry."
"So... where are the plates?"
"Level 4."
"And… where are the lifts?"
"Right over there." Ron jerked his thumb over his shoulder. They were, actually, standing in front of them. There was a line of annoyed customers waiting to use it, but Ron and Hermione hadn't taken their eyes off each other the moment they saw each other.
"Do er… all the lifts go to level four?"
Hermione said, in a desperate attempt to be near Ron.
"Yeah…" Ron broke into a smile. "Why don't I show you?" Oh God, Hermione thought, that smile…
Ron called the lift down (with his free hand), much to the relief of the people behind them. But, much to their dismay, only he and Hermione stepped in, and left the others behind.
In the lift, there was already someone in there, on their way up.
"Hey Seamus!" Ron said, eating some more éclair, and then to Hermione "This is Seamus, He works in shoes!" He then said, more to himself, "I love shoes! I love the way they fit perfectly, and I think it's the best how they put them in pairs…"
The lift stopped and Ron and Hermione stepped out, leaving behind a bemused looking Seamus.
"Well," Ron said, "What type of plates are you looking for?"
"Ones to eat off?" Hermione had her own attempt at humour. Ron started chuckling.
"That's funny, I like funny people." What the hell did I put in those damn éclairs, thought Hermione. She walked round, picking out a few different styles of plates.
"I'll have ten of those, five of those, and… 15 of those." Ron looked up. "Oh, God… that's too much, isn't it?"
"No!" he called over an assistant, who wore *way* too much make up. "Right, Pansy, I'll have ten of the Citrus, five Honeysuckle, and 15 of the Palmer."
"Yes… *sir*." She said mockingly. "I'll put it on this… lady's bill, shall I?"
"No, put it on mine. I'll have a word with you later, Parkinson." Ron pushed her away, and then said, "So Hermi, what next?"
"Well, I think I'll go home, and start thinking up some new recipes. I really need to bring in more money to keep the restaurant open."
"Well, you know, we could give you some free advertising." Ron suggested.
"What? How?"
"Well, you know. Along these plate displays, we could put little notices up. I can see it now, people crowding round them, asking to buy them. 'As seen at Grangers restaurant'."
"OK, if you really want to…" Hermione said, unsure whether Ron was joking or not. Fred and George had said Ron was quite the little (or large, depending whether you wanted to comment on his height [or stress levels]) joker.
"Nah… I don't know whether Harry would be too pleased about that…"
"Harry?"
"My best friend and business partner. He's quite famous where I come from."
"Really?"
"Yeah…"
"What's his last name?"
"Potter."
"Harry Potter…. That sounds quite familiar…" Hermione's mind cast back to a book she had read… about magic, of all things… there was an evil beast named Voldemort… and he was defeated twice by Harry Potter, who once worked with… Ron Weasley. OH… MY… GOD… Hermione thought. I'm talking to a man who has been involved in the thing I don't believe in. "That's er… nice." She laughed nervously, in case he suddenly cast a spell on her to turn her into a frog.
"Is something wrong?" Ron asked, concerned, she didn't seem to realise that she was backing away from him.
"Yeah, it's fine." Hermione mentally slapped herself. There was no such thing as magic, and just looking into Ron's bright blue eyes made her forget all suspicion. "Erm… would you like to come round to the restaurant some time?" she asked.
"Wow, that'd be great. I don't know when, and I might invite Harry and Ginny."
"Ginny?"
"My sister. Aka my secretary. Aka the stupid woman who won't ask Harry out and he won't ask her."
"Ah... they sound a little like my parents were."
"But I guess that worked out... all right… in the end."
"In the end."
"Welll, I guess I'll leave you here."
"Yeah…" Hermione, for some reason, thought back to the conversation she'd had with Neville about the belt thing… "Erm…"
"What?""
"Nothing…"
"Oh. OK."
"Wait!"
"Yeah?"
"Erm… a friend once told me this thing about men."
"Yeah?"
"Um… he said that they put their hands on their belt when they're thinking about sex."
"Yeah…" Ron said, looking at Hermione with his hand on his trousers where a belt would usually go. He then saw her looking at him strangely, realised what he was doing, and took it off. "I mean, no. I mean…"
"Your hand was just on your belt."
"I don't wear a belt."
"You don't?"
"Yeah, it might seem like I step out of the shower in a navy blue suit, but I don't wear a belt."
"Oh. Well, he also told me this other thing."
"Yes?"
"He told me they think about sex 238 times a day."
"Well, lets see… 238 divided by 24… that's about 10 times an hour… divided by 10… that's once every 6 minutes … yeah, that's about right." Hermione stared.
People started to come into the restaurant more and more. Hermione's cooking was improving (It started improving when she met Ron… hmm…) and the business was picking up. They had to take on another waiter, called Colin Creevy, but then they fired him because he was so clumsy (Even Neville had grown out of his clumsiness), but then they took on a woman called Padma Patil, who poor Nev was smitten with.
"Right sir, that'll be… £20.75." Neville said, to a man paying at the bar, who was rather large.
"Call me Dudley, mate! But I don't want to pay right now. I want to do the whole thing backwards, starting from dessert and working my way back." Dudley smiled like he was proud of his logic. Neville stared at him for a moment, and then said,
"I think you've had enough sir. Just give me the money, and you can do what you want tomorrow, Okay?"
"Fine."
Neville then took the man by the arm after he had paid, and took him to the door where his taxi was waiting. There was the same taxi driver as before (the one who looked suspiciously like Snape).
"Where to guv?"
"4 Privet Drive."
"Alright," he said, and drove off muttering "To Katie Bell's, then…. Why in the name of God did I get stuck bringing people together?"
Oh, the sweet, sweet end. How I love it so. Well, Sudafed calls. Adios!