Chapter 3
A/N: Thanks so much for all the love so far! This is my first attempt at an AU setting, so please let me know what you think as you read - I'd really appreciate any and all feedback!
Accio-broom is the best for helping me iron out my mistakes - thanks a million!
On with the story - we're starting to see a little more angst emerging in the next few chapters. I hope you enjoy!
September 15, 2012, 6:35pm
The knife emerged from the pan of lasagna coated in warm melted ricotta.
Perfect. Just right.
I sliced through the layers of the meat lasagna before washing the blade and turning my attention to the vegetarian one. Aside from Hermione, only one other person was vegetarian, so I probably made too much. But if there's one thing I learned from my mother, it's that you never want to run out of food at a party.
One of the pieces of the vegetarian lasagna had a few spinach leaves on top arranged in the shape of an 'F'. I set that piece aside for Hermione and set out plates and forks next to the trays before I called the others into the kitchen.
"Food's ready! Come serve yourselves!"
I removed a slice of meat lasagna for myself before filling two salad bowls with greens, tomatoes, carrots, and homemade Italian dressing. As I heard my friends make their way through the living room, I grabbed a drink from the fridge and ducked around the corner and into the dining room, placing Hermione's meal in front of her.
"What's this?" she asked, squinting as she examined her portion.
"That's your piece."
"You labeled my piece?"
I grinned at her as I handed her a fork and sat down next to her. "Of course, 'F' for Frizz. That's how I know it's your corner."
"What's wrong with the other corners?" she asked as she speared a forkful of dinner.
"Nothing is wrong with them, but your piece has a few extra things that nobody really likes except you."
"Mmm, like these sun-dried tomatoes?"
"Yup, and the pieces of artichoke and shiitake. And one other ingredient that I'll bet you can figure out."
"Is it smoked cheese?" she asked, chewing slowly and furrowing her brow.
"That's the one."
Her eyes rolled back in her head and her shoulders dropped as she swallowed and grinned at me. "Do you realize that you've ruined lasagna for me anywhere else I go? This is absolutely perfect."
"I'm glad you like it. You have very particular tastes, Frizz; someone has to be able to execute your vision."
We ate in silence for the next several minutes while everyone else filtered in and out of the kitchen with their plates. Hermione still seemed tentative about interacting with the rest of the group just yet, and I was happy to stay with her until she was feeling more like herself.
Once we could hear everyone back in the living room, I wiped the corners of my mouth and swallowed a mouthful of my drink before lifting my gaze toward her. "So, I feel like I'm seeing a different side of you tonight. You seem more…sentimental than usual."
"Maybe," she said with a shrug.
"Is everything okay? Did something happen recently? Don't get me wrong, I'm glad to hear you say that partying isn't everything, but, and I honestly mean no offense, it feels like a departure from the norm."
"Kind of judgemental again, don't you think?"
"I know, and I'm sorry…you know that's not what I'm trying to say, but…well, am I crazy here? You've never described your friends as idiots before. Something seems to be different, and not just because of comments like that. Your demeanor has just…changed somehow."
Her silverware clattered to the table and she dropped her chin into her hand, examining the detail of the tablecloth. "You just always have to be so perceptive, don't you."
"C'mon, Frizz. Talk to me," I said, poking her in the arm.
She took a deep breath and sighed. "I wasn't even going to go out last night. I had even changed into my pajamas after I got home from work. But then I got a call…"
"Okay…"
"It was my agent. You remember that commercial I auditioned for a few weeks ago? The one for the car dealership…"
"Right. You didn't seem particularly pumped about it at the time."
"That's an understatement. It was so demeaning, especially with the skimpy outfit they wanted me to wear."
"Yup, I totally get that," I offered, trying to tamp down the pang of hatred I was feeling toward Lincoln Ford at the moment.
"Anyways, my agent called me and told me that I didn't book the part. For a car dealership commercial. Not to sound too egotistical, but I've been on billboards in Times Square as Dr. Celestina Warbeck when I was on Mass General for a season and a half. I've toured the world doing press junkets for the X-Men movie. And now I can't book a local car dealership commercial."
"Oh, Frizz…I'm sorry to hear that," I said, placing my hand on hers. "I know you weren't excited about it, but it still would've been good work."
"Thanks," she groaned, twisting her wrist to position her hand comfortably in my palm. "So anyway, I feel like a normal person's response to that would be to watch a sad movie and eat a bunch of ice cream, but I, genius that I am, took a different approach. I texted Cormac and went out to get completely shitfaced before winding up back at his place, barely able to stand."
"That was Cormac? McLaggen? Isn't he the governor's nephew or something?"
"Grand nephew, as he reminded me countless times."
"Yikes. I'm sorry, Frizz, I really am. Sounds like a rough night," I said in as soothing a tone as I could manage, offering her a smile.
"Let's just say that, when I finally came to, my chin covered in crusted vomit, it was a big wake-up call."
"Well, maybe a low-key night like this was in the cards, then, right?"
"Much better, thank you. And this food is absolutely delicious. You really didn't have to go to all the trouble of making a piece special for me, I'd love anything you make."
"Nonsense, it was no trouble."
"Anyways, I'm starting to feel like my acting career may be over, and it's proving more difficult than I thought to come to grips with the idea of what's next. I mean, in a way, that's why I moved back to Chicago…to get out of that lifestyle and move on. But now that I'm here, it just keeps pulling me back in somehow, probably because I'm…I don't know, scared of the future."
"The future can be scary. I've had my share of fears and doubts as well."
"Did you know I was even dating someone before I left L.A.?"
"I didn't."
She nodded and continued. "For a few months. It was going well, too. He was actually a nice guy. But I fucked that up, too, because I was scared that a future with him would make it harder for me to get good parts. How pathetic is that?"
"I'm no stranger to self-sabotage, lest you forget a good amount of my existence in high school."
"Ever since then, I just keep wondering…why do I always ruin it with the good ones?"
October 6, 1998, 12:15pm
"Shut up, Harry, it's not like you've asked anyone yet, either." As Ron sat opposite Harry in the huge, noisy cafeteria, he eyed his best friend's smirk. They occupied the last two seats of a long table near the window, watching a thunderstorm roll through the neighborhood as they ate. Harry's folded arms grated on Ron. Like he's doing so much better than me?
"That may be, but at least I didn't get shot down by Susan Bones," Harry replied, taking a bite out of his sandwich.
"Ugh, don't remind me. At this rate, I think I'm going to be the only one at the homecoming dance without a date."
High school had started just over a month ago. The boys were adjusting well enough, although it was a very different experience than middle school. Harry had already made the football team as a freshman, something nobody had done at Northville High in over twenty years, so the seniors tended to leave him alone. Ron, on the other hand, had faced his share of freshman hazing. Having older twin brothers in the junior class meant that everyone knew that he was a brand new target in the hallways. He had hoped that Fred and George would look after him, but despite all of his appeals to his mother to rein in the twins' behavior, he continued to be picked on.
Hermione was still in most of their classes with them, although she had a few advanced courses on her own that Ron and Harry hadn't qualified for. Ron had missed her over the summer when she had been on vacation with her family, and he had spent almost every day with her once she had come back home. Since school started back up, they hadn't seen as much of each other due to their somewhat differing schedules and heavy workloads, but the trio still spent time together after school whenever it didn't interfere with homework, Hermione's extra-curricular activities, or Harry's football practice schedule.
"Oh, shit. Okay, here comes Hermione," Ron said, running a hand through his messy red hair. "Time for desperate measures. Please don't judge me for what I'm about to do, okay?"
Harry grinned at him and shook his head. "Whatever you say, buddy."
Hermione placed her tray down next to Ron and sat down. "The options are so much better in this cafeteria than back in middle school, don't you think?"
"I don't know," Harry said, "they seem the same to me."
"I love that there's a salad bar. What a perfect lunch."
Ron and Harry looked at each other with raised eyebrows as Ron tried to sneak his hands down to his jeans to wipe off the accumulating sweat.
"So, Hermione," Ron started, willing his voice not to crack at that moment, "are you planning on going to the homecoming dance next weekend?"
"I am."
"Well, I know it's kind of nerve-wracking to have to wait for someone to ask you and everything, so I was wondering if…maybe you'd want to come with me?"
There it was. He had gotten it out. The question that had been stressing him out for weeks. Ron's heart was thumping rapidly and he averted his eyes as she twisted in her seat to face him. Her face dropped into a frown, a hint of a blush appearing on her cheeks. "Oh, well…"
That tone was unmistakable. The look on her face was easy to read as well. They both epitomized simple, brutal pity. He was crashing and burning right in the middle of lunch, right in front of his best friend, and there was nothing he could do about it. His stomach dropped and his face set on fire. All he could do now is hope that nobody else was watching or listening.
"I'm sorry, Ron, but…you see, someone's already asked me," Hermione said, staring down at the table.
"Who is it?" Harry interrupted.
"Ummm, it's Viktor…Viktor Krum. Do you know him?"
"The exchange student? Isn't he a senior?"
"Well, yes. He's in my art elective with me, he asked me last week. I didn't really think anyone else was going to ask me, so I said yes," she said, her gaze hesitantly raising towards Ron as she shoved her lettuce around with her fork.
"Oh. Pshhh, yeah, of course, glad to hear it!" Ron said, trying his hardest to sound nonchalant. "Right, I just…I wanted to make sure you had someone to go with…is all."
After giving Ron a thin-lipped smile, she turned back to his french fries, an awkward silence falling over the table. He could feel Harry's eyes on him, analyzing his reaction. Hermione, on the other hand, angled her body away from him and focused on her lunch in front of her. She quickly finished her meal and got up from the table, excusing herself and telling the boys that she had to meet with one of her teachers before her next class.
Ron and Harry were left sitting alone, Ron's eyes glazed over as he repeatedly stabbed his chocolate pudding with his fork.
"You okay?" Harry asked, leaning back after he had finished. "You're barely eating, it's not like you."
Ron snapped out of his trance and slapped himself in the face twice before looking up at his friend and painting a smile on his face. "Course, man. Mom just made a big breakfast today, guess I'm not as hungry as usual."
"Ron…come on. That was rough just then. Are you sure you're alright?"
"I said I'm fine! There are plenty of other girls around here, I'm sure I can find a date in the next ten days. Besides, you know what? Now that I think about it, it probably would've been weird to go with Hermione, don't you think?"
"I guess," Harry offered as he stood up and collected his backpack.
"Honestly, I was kind of joking anyway. We'll just keep looking, right?"
Harry nodded, still looking at Ron with disbelief as the pair dumped their trash into the garbage can.
Ron looked back at him and exhaled. "Time for math?"
October 16, 1998, 1:15pm
"Give me an 'L'!"
"L!"
"Give me an 'E'!"
"E!"
"What's that spell?"
"Northville, Northville, Northville!"
"Let's hear it for our very own Northville High Mustang Football team!" the head cheerleader shouted, waving her pom-poms high in the air.
Ron gave a few nonchalant claps as he sat on the top bleacher and leaned against the back wall of the school gym. Hermione sat next to him, applauding as well but more interested in the book that was open on her lap. Both of their cheering became a bit more enthusiastic when they saw Harry enter the room, decked out in his black and orange uniform. Trying to keep the envy out of his eyes, Ron caught sight of his friend and waved.
Every student in the school was gathered for the homecoming pep rally ahead of the football game scheduled for later that night. The dance would take place the following evening. Shortly after Hermione had declined Ron's invitation, Harry had asked Parvati Patil, one of their mutual friends since elementary school, to the dance. She had accepted on the condition that her sister and Ron double-dated with them. Padma was pretty enough, although Ron barely knew her. Nonetheless, he was happy to have a date, not wanting to become a third wheel to Harry and Parvati or, even worse, Hermione and Viktor.
"What's up, Northville!" shouted the captain of the football team into the microphone.
The whole of the student body stood up and screamed, clapping wildly as the football players tried to pump up the crowd. Ron remained seated, glancing at his wristwatch and rolling his eyes.
"Bored?" Hermione asked, leaning closer to him so that he could hear her over the roar of the crowd. "I thought you loved football?"
Ron shrugged and cracked his knuckles as he looked up at the giant fluorescent lights on the ceiling. "I do love football, but this isn't football…this is…"
"Pageantry?"
"Kind of, but in a more masculine way?"
Hermione shook her head as the captain passed the microphone to a large, thick senior with no neck. "This isn't masculine. Not real masculinity, at least. This is just…chest-thumping behavior, not far removed from that of the earliest cave dwellers."
"Whatever you say, Frizz," Ron said with an exasperated sigh.
"Are you at least excited for the game this evening?"
"I guess. Harry's been playing well, so I'm sure he'll get plenty of touches, the lucky bastard."
"Language, Ron!"
"It's a public high school, Hermione, give it a rest. I heard at least ten swears worse than that just walking here from my history class."
"Anyway," she said, still giving him a chastising stare, " if you like football so much, why don't you play on the team?"
"If only it were that easy! Do you know how hard it is to make varsity as a freshman?"
"You played last year in middle school, didn't you?"
"Yeah, but that was against other eighth graders. Aside from Harry, I'd be one of the smallest people on the field in a high school game, and I play cornerback…a position where size matters. I'm nowhere near tall enough or good enough to make the team. Maybe JV, but that's barely fun," he replied, his body sliding down the back wall.
"Well, if it's something you really want, you'll just have to buckle down and work for it."
"I try, really. I play with Fred and George any chance I get, but…without being on the team, it's not like there are many other opportunities to play."
"But there must be other ways to practice…"
Pushing himself back up, he rubbed the back of his neck. "I mean, anyone can use the field when the team isn't practicing…but you can't just practice by yourself. And anyone I know who plays football and could help me practice is already on the team and wouldn't want to practice more than they already have to."
"What if I helped you practice?"
He grinned at her. "You? Playing football?"
"I may not know that much about it, but…well, if all you need is another person. Maybe you could show me what I need to do?"
"You need to be able to play football…" Ron teased, leaning his shoulder into hers.
"I don't know, Ron, I'm just trying to help!" she replied, holding back a smile.
"You know what, maybe there is something you could do. If Harry could convince them to leave one of the throwing machines out after practice, I could show you how to operate it. It launches the football into the air, and I could practice my footwork and pass break ups that way."
"I don't understand anything you just said, but I'm happy to help if you can show me what to do."
"You really wouldn't mind?" he asked, his brow raised in her direction.
"Of course not. We're friends, right? Friends help each other."
None of Ron's other friends had offered to help him like that; not even Harry, and he was on the team. As he thought about how lucky he was to have someone like Hermione who would be willing to do that for him, it just made him even more depressed that he wasn't going to the dance with her.
"That would be great, thanks, Frizz."
"Sure. You just have to promise me that you won't turn into one of these testosterone-driven meatheads," Hermione replied with a coy smile.
"What, like that?" Ron asked, pointing toward the gym floor where the senior quarterback was executing a flying chest bump with his lead receiver.
They both laughed as Hermione faked an episode of vomiting. "Exactly like that."
"Well, it is football. Sometimes that's just how it goes when you're surrounded by guys like that."
"I guess I'm just saying that, once you make the football team…I hope that you're still…you. Maybe that sounds crazy, but I like you the way you are."
He was taken aback by her honesty, his face heating up in light of her compliment. "I haven't even made the team yet, but…don't worry, I guess."
"Good," she responded, nodding her head as she turned her attention back to her book.
No matter how hard he tried to focus on the athletes below, he couldn't concentrate on the pep rally anymore. Instead, his mind was occupied with Hermione and his regret over the fact that she was going to the dance with someone else. He knew he had missed an opportunity to finally see if she might someday consider him more than a friend, and it was frustrating him to no end.
Ugh, she's amazing. Why didn't I just ask her earlier?
October 17, 1998, 7:30pm
The twin girls were waiting for Ron and Harry when they strolled through the front doors of the high school. Parvati took Harry's arm and started leading him into the school cafeteria, looking eager to be seen with a football player. Padma shot a weak smile at Ron, who returned an unenthusiastic wave. He was wearing a frayed, hand-me-down oxford button-down with too-short khakis and one of his father's old ties with a wide geometric pattern. His mother had insisted that he looked quite sharp before leaving the house, but Ron felt like an idiot.
"Good to see you, Ron," Padma said, taking a step closer to him.
"You too, Padma. Thanks for coming with me." Ron responded, fumbling with his tie to allow himself to breathe easier.
"Should we go inside?"
"Sure, let's go."
They walked into the cafeteria, which was practically unrecognizable. The tables had all been shifted to the side of the room and streamers were cascading down every wall. A banner hung over the main door with the event theme spelled out in script letters, "One Magical Evening". Strewn over the refreshment tables were small pieces of glitter in the shape of magic wands, bats, top hats, and broomsticks. Ron and Padma made their way over to the table to join up with Harry and Parvati.
"Ron, would you like something to drink?" Padma asked.
But Ron wasn't paying attention. He glanced back to the door just in time to see Hermione and Viktor coming through to amazed stares from nearby students. Hermione's hair, usually curly and out of control, was smooth and shiny, tied up in an elegant braid. The beautiful light blue dress she was wearing came down just below her knee, hugging her figure in all the right places. A pair of strappy high heels completed the ensemble. Her eyes flitted around the room, a shy smile playing on her face that Ron could tell indicated her embarrassment at being noticed. She was holding on to Viktor's arm as they found a seat near the DJ table. Ron was mesmerized. He was so mesmerized that he hadn't heard his own date continue to call his name.
"Ron?" Padma asked, irritation creeping into her tone.
"Hey, Ron!" Harry shouted, punching Ron in the shoulder.
"What?" Ron asked, his eyes narrowing at his friend.
"Somebody is talking to you…"
Ron looked back at Padma, who was standing with a cup in one hand and her other hand on her hip. "Drink?" she asked through gritted teeth.
"Oh. Sure, thanks."
As Padma poured some soda for him, she looked back at her sister, her eyes pleading to be rescued. Ron missed her expression entirely and took the cup from her with a smile. "Cheers."
The four of them went to sit at a table with Padma and Parvati's friends. While the girls sat together and immediately engaged in gossip with the other people at the table, Harry and Ron were left to their own devices, sitting next to each other and blocked out of the conversation. That was fine with Ron, who wasn't particularly interested in high school gossip anyway. Harry looked as though he would try to make an effort to interact with his date, only to turn back to Ron to talk about the previous night's football game when the girls ignored him.
After a half hour of talking, Padma and Parvati got up with their friends and asked the boys if they'd like to come dance. Ron swallowed and looked to Harry for guidance, only to find his friend equally nervous, nearly knocking over his chair as he stood up.
They found an open spot on the dance floor and started dancing to a fast rock song, the girls jumping up and down with glee. Harry and Ron bopped back and forth, simply trying not to be noticed.
Suddenly, the song ended and the music shifted to a slow, sappy ballad. With a nervous gulp, Ron glanced at Padma and dutifully held out a shaking hand. Padma placed her hands on Ron's shoulder as Ron rested his high on her hips. They started swaying back and forth, completely missing the rhythm, Ron stepping on her open-toed shoes multiple times. A solid foot of distance separated them, and they both refused to make eye contact.
As Ron's eyes roamed around the room, desperate to find a friendly face, his gaze came to rest on Viktor and Hermione. They were dancing in the middle of the cafeteria floor, Viktor's hands flat on the small of her back, much closer together than Ron and Padma. As they twirled around, Ron caught a glimpse of Hermione smiling and laughing as Viktor spun her under his arm before pulling her back towards his chest. Jealousy burned inside of him as his expression dropped, feeling as though the wind had been knocked out of him. The more he tried to rip his eyes away from the pair of them, the more difficult he found it, almost as though he was forcing himself to endure more heartbreak as some kind of sadistic self-punishment for not getting up the courage to ask her earlier.
By the time the song was over, Ron's mind was a million miles away, a fact that was not lost on his date. Padma huffed away towards her sister, grabbing Parvati's arm and leading her out of the cafeteria and towards the bathroom, glaring back at Ron with fury as they turned the corner.
Harry approached him with a puzzled look. "Hey, what's going on with you tonight? I thought you were looking forward to coming with Padma?"
"Right, no, I was," Ron stammered. "It's just…I don't know, I guess dances aren't my thing."
"Ron, I'm no more comfortable than you, but at least I'm trying."
"I know, I'm sorry. I've clearly blown it for myself, but I hope I haven't blown it for you, too." Ron said, chancing a glimpse at Hermione again, which did not go unnoticed by Harry.
"Ahh…I see."
"See what?"
Harry winced. "Sorry, man. This must be tough."
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Oh, so you're not sneaking peeks at Hermione right now?"
"What? That's…that's ridiculous. I didn't even know she was…oh, yeah, you're right, there she is."
Harry looked back at his friend, his mouth slackening before shaking his head. "Okay, dude, fine. But just…I don't know, at least try to enjoy the rest of the night. Padma is a cool girl. I think you'd have fun if you actually gave it a chance."
"Right, right, I get it. Hey, I'm going to go get a refill, do you want anything?"
"All good, thanks," Harry replied as Ron made his way over to the drinks.
As he was filling his cup with Coke, Viktor showed up next to him, looking over the options.
"Hi, Ron," Viktor said. "Are you having a good time?"
"Hey, Viktor…it's fine," Ron sighed.
"Your date is very pretty."
"Thanks. Are you and Fri-, I mean, Hermione having fun?"
"I am, and I hope she is as well. She is a very good dancer."
"Good," Ron mustered through his teeth, trying not to sound too jealous.
"But it is quite warm in here, is it not? Hermione sent me over to get food and drinks, but there are so many choices. How about…maybe some of these pretzels?"
"Oh…I wouldn't if I were you."
Viktor peered at him, his head tilted to the side. "No?"
"No, Hermione wouldn't like those. She loves pretzels, but only the twisty kind, not the stick kind."
Why am I helping him?
"Really? What's the difference?"
"Got me. As far as I'm concerned, a pretzel is a pretzel. But she's kind of weird like that."
"How about these Goldfish, then?" Viktor asked, his eyebrows pinched in concentration.
"Also a bad choice. This is even weirder, but…you see how all the fish have a little smile on their faces? Hermione finds that really creepy, so she refuses to eat them."
"This is getting complicated."
"If I were you," Ron said, perusing the choices, "I'd go with…aha! Cheddar and Sour Cream Ruffles. She tried them at my house once and said they reminded her of some weird flavor of chips she used to eat all the time when she lived in France."
Shut up, you're making it worse for you and better for him!
"She used to live in France?"
"Yup, about five years ago, right before she moved here."
"You know a lot about her, don't you?"
Ron shrugged, trying to seem casual. "I guess. We've been friends for a while."
"You know, for a moment I was worried that perhaps you two were…more than just friends. You seem to spend a lot of time together. I wasn't sure if I should ask her to the dance at first."
"Nope, just friends."
Viktor looked away, examining the drink selections. Ron wanted to scream at the top of his lungs, loud enough that Hermione could hear him, that he wished they were more than friends, but he managed to keep himself under control. None of this was Viktor's fault; not intentionally, anyway. That said, a small part of him wished that he had given Hermione's date horrible advice instead of her exact preferences.
Taking the high road, right, Ron?
"Sprite's a good choice?" Viktor asked, reaching for the soda bottle to fill up her cup.
"Ahh, no. Root beer…always root beer."
Viktor poured the cup and collected the snacks, giving Ron a nod of the head, his gaze roaming up and down as if he was studying the ginger boy before walking away to find Hermione.
October 17, 1998, 10:10pm
The rest of the night had been dismal. Padma had spent most of her time with her sister and their friends, and, aside from their one dance at the beginning of the dance, he had barely seen her. Not that he particularly cared; his eyes had been focused on Hermione all night. Harry had given up on chastising him after an hour or so and continued to enjoy the event with Parvati and Padma, leaving Ron sitting alone for most of the evening. Now that the dance was over and Padma's parents had picked her up, he was left walking home by himself, trying in vain to get the image of Viktor's hands on Hermione's back out of his mind.
"Hey, Ron!" a familiar voice called out from behind him.
He spun around, scrunching up his eyes to try to see through the darkness. A flash of periwinkle slipped through the glow of the streetlight and the sound of heels clacking against the sidewalk intensified as Hermione jogged to catch up with him.
Dammit, she still looks absolutely fantastic.
He unbuttoned another button on his shirt and took in a quick breath, willing himself to try not to seem too depressed. "Hey. Everything okay?"
"Yeah," she said, breathing hard as she caught up with him. She slowed down as they started walking together towards their respective homes. "I was going to see if you wanted to walk home together, but then I spied you sneaking out the back door of the gym…"
"Oh…I'm sorry, I assumed that Viktor would give you a ride since he has a car."
"Sure. He offered, but…it's a nice night, and it's not that far of a walk."
"Did you have a good time?" Ron asked as he shuffled down the street. A melancholy feeling set in as he saw their two faint overlapping shadows, both cast by the moonlight, moving side by side along the pavement.
Hermione was silent for a moment, considering her response. "I did, and Viktor is a nice guy. I don't know if it was exactly a fairy tale evening, but I had fun."
"Do you think you're going to see him again?" Ron questioned, starting to sweat in anticipation of her response. Although it made him feel like a bit of a jerk, he was at least happy to hear that Viktor hadn't swept her off her feet.
"I'm not sure. He was friendly and a perfect gentleman, but…I'm just not sure. How about you? I didn't see you dancing too much…"
"Dancing isn't really my area of expertise."
"Well, I think that's the case for most people, myself included. But still…it was a homecoming dance, you have to try!"
"Ugh…truthfully, I can't say I was in the mood for it, and nobody wants to see me flailing around out there."
"Didn't you have fun? Did something happen with Padma?" she asked, concern etched onto her face.
Ron sighed and kicked a pebble down the road. "No, not really anything in specific. But I don't even think she wanted to come with me. She only agreed because her sister was going with Harry and she didn't have a date."
"I doubt that's true," Hermione offered in a soothing tone.
"No, it is. And it's fine…I just wish…I don't know, let's just say I'm glad it's over."
"Well, I'm sorry you didn't have a good night, but it's Padma's loss."
"You don't have to do that," he said, waving her off in dismissal.
"Hey," she answered, grabbing his arm and forcing him to stop. "Would I?"
Ron gave her a half-hearted, crooked grin as he shoved his hands in his pockets and continued down the sidewalk in silence. A few moments later, they reached the intersection of Peachtree and Oak, and she turned to go back to her house.
"Hey, thank you, by the way. He brought me Sprite the first time, you know," she said, stopping in her tracks.
"Excuse me?"
Hermione spun around and wrapped her arms around herself as she took a step closer to him. "A Sprite. He brought me a Sprite."
"Okay…"
"I hate Sprite."
He was starting to catch her meaning, but he wouldn't admit to it out loud. "I know you do."
"But he went back a second time and came back with all of my favorites. Root beer, cheesy chips, the works. Strange, I thought."
"Guess he got lucky," Ron suggested, hoping Hermione wouldn't notice his eyes shifting back and forth around the neighborhood.
"Even stranger that I saw you standing by the snack table right after he came back…"
"I mean, it was kind of warm in there. Button-down shirts and ties and everything…kind of making it hard to breathe. Besides, always best to, uhh…stay hydrated, right?"
"Mmm," she said, unblinking as she stared him down.
He gave her a resigned nod and stumbled backward towards his house. "Night, Frizz."
As he continued down the street alone, the smallest smile started to creep onto his face. It only widened as, through the crisp night air, he heard her reply, "Night, Ron."
September 15, 2012, 6:50pm
"So what happened with your boyfriend in L.A.?" I asked as he finished his drink.
"Well, I was up for a recurring role on a soap opera. Part of it was scheduled to be filmed overseas…somewhere in Greece, I think. I didn't tell him about it because I didn't want to have the uncomfortable conversation about what would happen if I got the part. You know, long distance, can we make it work, is it worth it, so on and so forth."
"Sure."
"Anyway, I thought I was going to get the part, and one night I let it slip that I'd be going abroad. He got upset with me for keeping it a secret…said it felt like I wasn't communicating or that I didn't trust him or something. And then, of course, by trying to talk my way out of it, I made everything a million times fucking worse. I'm pretty sure I proved to him that I absolutely didn't trust him and that I didn't see a future for our relationship since my career would always come first."
"Ouch…and then?"
"And then he left, and I haven't heard from him since. Oh, and the following morning I got a call from my agent informing me that I didn't get the part."
Hermione was staring out the front window with a vacant expression again, her chin trembling as she recalled the story. It was obvious that she was starting to spiral again as she discussed her past transgressions, repeating a pattern that had happened over and over again on previous evenings. I started to look for an opportunity to try to pull her out before she sank into a temporary depression.
"How come you've never told me this before? I thought I knew everything about your time in L.A.," I asked, leaning forward and folding my hands together on the table.
"I don't know…not my finest hour, right?"
"Still…you can always talk with me about stuff like that if it's bothering you."
"I know. And I appreciate it. But sometimes I'm barely ready to face my own failures, much less share them with others."
"Do you miss him?" I had no idea what answer I was hoping for.
"A little. He was…stable. He was the first guy I'd dated in a long time where…I didn't have to worry about whether he'd be there the next morning, you know?"
I nodded as I reached back to flick on the light switch, illuminating the table in the darkening room.
"Ultimately, though, it was never going to work out. I guess I have trust issues or some fucking thing. Or I just drive men away."
"Hey, I'm sorry that happened, but it's his loss."
"A few years ago…I might've honestly believed you, Ron. But now? Look…in all of these shit relationships, most of which barely qualify as relationships, the only common denominator is me, you know? Whatever. What's done is done. Now all I have to worry about is my evaporating career."
"What do you think you're going to do?"
"Who knows? I suppose I have to sit down and hammer it out in my mind."
"Well, if all else fails, maybe you can start a career as a really specific type of food critic for, like, weird lasagna and disgusting beverages," I suggested with a grin.
"I'd actually be really good at that, thank you very much!" she said, giggling as she finished her last bite of dinner. "And I'd bet people would read it, too!"
"You could call the column Famished Frizz…it'll run in the Tribune on Sundays."
"Hard-hitting reviews from Chicago's most off-beat restaurants."
"Now, just to be fair, I'd have to come with you and eat the free food, too…since the column was my idea, after all."
"Oh, of course, and we'll order all the coconut seltzer you can drink!"
"Ugh, never mind, hard pass, you can do your job without me," I said with a chuckle.
As our laughter died down, she was looking at me out of the corner of her eye with a mischievous smile. "Ronald Weasley, are you just trying to cheer me up?"
"That depends," I answered, returning her sly expression, "Is it working?"
"A little bit…"
"Enough that you feel up to joining the party?"
"Yes, I suppose so. I think I've kept my adoring public waiting long enough for my entrance."
"They did look rather heartbroken in there before…"
Hermione swatted me on the arm as she stood up, clearing her plates as she walked out of the dining room. "Thanks again for dinner, it was honestly one of the best things I've ever eaten."
"Thank you, that's quite a compliment. Now come on, let's…well, I was going to say party, but that's not quite it. Let's go…socialize with a bunch of awkward computer scientists and my sister!"