Name of the Game

Part 02: Anything but This

By TK's Angel

Hermione noticed a tall, muscular frame make its way through the door. She couldn't see the man's face very well since it was hidden under a cap and sunglasses. She wanted to step out of her corner but that would undoubtedly mean exposing herself first, something she was not willing to risk.

Anita however had nothing to lose, being impatient as she was. "You must be Wesleigh I assume?" The arrogance in her tone was certainly obvious but Ron discarded it immediately, he didn't have the patience to deal with cocky agents… especially when he had noted another female presence in the room. He fixed his composure, going straight into Casanova mode.

"So, where's this writer of yours? He could at least have the polite decency to show up on time." He removed his sunglasses, along with his cap and coat, trying to sound distinguished but all the while failing miserably.

Hermione was outraged, enough to forget to mind her anonymity. "You've got some nerve, did you know that?" She stepped closer. "You're the one who's late…." She stopped to catch her breath as took in the sight in front of her: those familiar enchanting blue eyes and that unruly patch of wild red hair. "Ron?" She half sighed, half questioned.

Realisation didn't seem to hit as quickly. "Yeah, that's right." His tone was certainly an annoyed one now. "I'd like to know where this Rainger fellow is before I waste anymore of my time." Which in reality he didn't mind very much since there was something warmly familiar about that gorgeous girl in front of him.

"Have you ever been aware of how particularly dense you've always been?"

That voice, that stance, it all finally came together for him. But it couldn't be, it was all too good, awful and frightening all at once to be true. "No way."

"In case your brain has failed you, it's Granger not Rainger…."

"Hermione," He mouthed her name, still recovering from the sheer volume of the surprise.

Anita herself was confused, and more than a little alarmed, there seemed to be something about the atmosphere you could cut with a butter knife; tension anyone?

"Okay, so as they say, I guess I'll leave you two alone." She scurried out the door and shut it behind her.

Neither of them was aware of exactly how much time had passed since they were so focused on staring at each other up and down. It was almost as if they were playing one of their little games again, to see who'd crack first, who was the most hard-headed of the pair. Unfortunately patience was not listed as one of Ron's many virtues.

"Look, this is absolutely absurd Hermione, none of us is getting anywhere with this." He managed to turn away to avoid looking any further.

Relief swept her in an instant, she herself knew that she'd dead on loose in their interaction; she was surely as stubborn as he but he didn't have to be pulled in a trance by set of inviting blue eyes. "I can't believe you're still doing things like this to me." And she was right; he was still capable of silencing her with a single look, diminishing her with only his eyes. She meant the comment for herself but he was only a short distance away.

"Doing what? There you go blaming me for things I have no idea I did!" He ran his fingers along the smooth wall. "You don't seem out practice with that at all, I'm impressed." Than again, he wasn't out of practice with joggling arguments out of the blue.

"What are you rambling about?"

He moved over and plopped himself in the couch to her left. "Fighting, arguing, quarrelling, duelling." He picked up a makeshift snitch lying next to him, thankful for a distraction. "If I didn't know any better I'd say you'd make a darn good boxer."

"You know how much I hate violence."

"Which is precisely why I know better." He dropped the small toy and motioned to the spot beside him on the couch. "We got off on the wrong foot, let's just talk about it. I'm pretty sure you sure don't want to be here anymore than I do."

His words cut through her, but she remained nonchalant. "You're right, there has to some immense mistake here." Somehow her feet managed to lead her to the couch, despite all the scrupled in her head. "My agent will just talk to your manger and we'll be out of this as soon as possible." Maybe not that fast.

"Exactly." He desperately tried to remain composed as well, but it was difficult for him. His glances kept wandering off to her and soon enough he found that he couldn't stop it.

"So?" She was quickly running out of things to say, what exactly where you supposed to talk about with a person that you have intentionally tried to keep away from the last five years. "What's been going in your life?"

"It's pretty much obvious isn't it?" He was more than a little apprehensive towards her and chose his statements carefully. "I got into Quidditch for some minor league team and eventually made my way here."

"I'm really glad to see that you've made your dreams come true," she said sincerely, but still selfishly bothered her to think that he was falling drunk with happiness; he wasn't affected the slightest by the past, she thought, the same past that haunted her everyday. She couldn't have been more wrong about Ron.

"Whatever happened to you, I mean, what about your dreams to be a scientist in the muggle world?"

"I realised it wasn't what I wanted."

"You never know what you really want, do you?"

She knew exactly what he meant by his words and she was not in the mood to dig up the past now, which he so conveniently patronized at the moment. She dismissed his comment. "There was something better out there, that's all."

"You always loved doing homework and writing notes, I suppose it just came out naturally for you… writing, I mean." She could have sworn he was spacing out or something.

"You're not in the mood to talk, I can tell." There were still so many things left to say, but alas, confrontation would have to come later. "We should just go talk to someone and get the heck out of this."

"Who says I don't want to talk? And how come you want to leave so badly."

"I never said anything about leaving!"

"Sure you have, you've already mentioned talking to your agent about this twice in less than half an hour. Is sticking around really that awful?" He was almost pleading with her.

"I simply said we should talk to someone about these arrangements between you and I. Come on, we're both mature adults and we both know that we'd eventually kill each other in five weeks." She sighed deeply admitting her previous mistake. "I guess it is better for us if the whole thing is called off." No matter how badly she wanted to stay.

He had to think of something fast, there was no way he was going to let her just slip through his fingers…again. "What about the team, we do need the publicity you know, it wouldn't make us look good if a star writer just runs away from the Chudley Cannons."

"Oh." She wanted him to say something else, needed a better reason to stay; she was weak when she was with him. "You're right, and besides my publisher wouldn't be too happy about it either." It was the first time she had ever been grateful of having a control freak for a boss.

Hey, he'd take whatever he could have. "Everyone's happy." Everyone but him that is. "I promise I'll try to control myself as long as you promise not to kill me the first couple of weeks, deal?"

She smiled, her first real smile since they encountered that day. "You drive a hard bargain Weasley, but I accept." She extended her arm to him, which he took in an almost cautious way.

"By the looks of it we can be civil to each other if we really try." There were still a million things left to sort out, but that could wait, there was enough time for it. For now they were just Ron and Hermione. "I should start showing you around, it is what we're here for."

*********

"So the team went under new management and lots of players were traded." Hermione was not interested in such details but she let the content look on his face. "Though some were rumoured to be kicked off the league completely."

"Must have been terrible for them."

"Not really, most were bums who couldn't play at all." He was proud. "That's when I made it into the League, let me tell you, it wasn't easy."

"You were always good on a broom, unlike me."

"You just need to get the hang of it, the guys can teach you how." That was the idea, to get her to stick around. He pointed to a large oak door down the corridor. "That's the coach's office. He told me to bring you there when I had the chance."

"Whatever for?"

"No idea, he probably wants to show off some trophies or something." He didn't expect any less from his coach. "He's a swell guy, you'd get along."

"I wish I had a boss like that, mine is a real piece of work." She grinned. "You know how American entrepreneurs are sometimes."

Ron sort of winced at the thought of how far she had been for so long. He was about to say something but he decided to keep his mouth shut, for now.

"Hermione, if there's something we need to talk about one of us can just come out and say it, right?" He promised he would keep his mouth shut but he didn't mention anything about dropping a few encouraging hints here and there. He knew she was confused by his remark but that didn't matter.

They had been so distracted they hadn't even realised they'd reached the door to the Coach's office. Ron knocked on the door, he heard a muffled grunt from inside and acknowledged that as a response. He opened the door and stepped back to allow Hermione in first.

"Coach Frost this is Hermione Granger, Hermione this is Coach Edward Frost." Ron looked amused at the man's surprised expression.

"You're H.R. Granger? Well, I was under the impression that you were a man. I'm sorry for the misunderstanding." Frost could be nice once in a while.

"No harm done." At least this guy was honest enough about it.

"I really hope this isn't of any inconvenience to you and your staff." She meant in sincerely.

"Well no, not really. But there is one small thing though."

Ron was intrigued. "And that would be?"

"I kinda set it for you and the writer to share a room."

-END CHAPTER 2-

To be continued…..