A/N: Thanks for the wonderful reviews y'all have written. It's overwhelmingly flattering, really. For all those Ron fans out there, please don't kill me because I made a stunningly common cliché out of him. He's part of the twist that happens in the end. And for those of you who have been waiting for something to happen…you might like this chapter.
CHAPTER EIGHTThe whole evening, Harry had been sitting on the chaise near the window thinking. Ever since Ron made that astute observation about him and Hermione, his mind had not left that topic the whole day. In fact, he had been thinking about it for a majority of the time he and Ron were knocking around the city. Now that he had the peace and quiet of the suite (save for Ron's deep snoring from the other side of the room), he could think clearly and better. The noisy roads and the hollering of people was a perfect deterrent to what he wanted mostly to do that day.
While he was curled on the chaise, he wondered what Ron meant by him and Hermione being an item. Sure, they had spent a lot of time together during Harry's stay and they kept in touch quite often, but did that merit to being an item with someone? In a way though, Ron was right. The way he felt when he whirled around the dance floor with Hermione in his arms was something he only felt when he was with Janina, and even then it wasn't so intense. But why was it only now that he was feeling more than just friendship with Hermione?
It's not like he wasn't attracted to her. In more ways than one, he was. He enjoyed her obsession with grades because it was something that he and Ron could feel secure about. He appreciated her fierce determination to succeed in this life, and it was because of her he felt that he had someone worthwhile to talk to. He liked it that she made sure everyone stayed in touch with each other, especially when he went through his rough spot with Janina. In short, it was everything that made Hermione who she was that he liked and was attracted to. She didn't look that bad either; she seemed to have blossomed into a real woman, one with a brain. He was slowly developing some kind of feeling for her, but it was something he couldn't put a name or face to.
Harry spent the rest of the night thinking about it, until he fell asleep on the chaise, lightly snoring.
"Harry! Signor Potter, wake up!"
Harry felt himself being shaken awake by Vittorio. The morning light glared into his eyes, and he felt a crick in his neck from sleeping in a near-sitting position. "I'm up Vittorio…what's wrong?" he asked, yawning. "Nothing really sir. It's just that Signor Weasley has left a message before he left, and it is high time you woke up anyway. He wants you to meet him at the La Venta at ten thirty. Right now it is about nine forty-five." Vittorio said. Harry groaned and ran his hands through his hair. "Does Hermione know about this?" he asked. "I would not know sir, I'm sorry." Vittorio said, shrugging his shoulder.
"Well thanks Vittorio. Ron must have had a hard time waking me up or something; otherwise I would have gotten the message." Harry said, yawning yet again. "Shall I run your bath?" Vittorio asked. Harry grinned at him and at the same time blushed. "You know Vittorio, it isn't quite the trend for a man to offer to run the bath of another man. Even if you technically ARE my valet."
Harry managed to take a quick shower and snatch something off the breakfast table before running out into the street to rent a scooter and ask for directions. His Italian was really picking up now; none of the local people gave him a funny look when he spoke to them. He drove down to a place that was not quite out of town, but not too close either. There were botanical gardens strewn every few blocks in that section of town. Obviously the La Venta had something to do with plants and herbs.
He was right. The La Venta was a sprawling piece of land that had every kind of flower he knew growing in it. Trees and bushes of every sort also occupied it. Somewhere among the greenery though, he was able to pick up the sound of some people speaking phrases of English. He followed the sound until he came to a spot that was full of lights and cameras. It was a photo shoot, to be more exact. Harry took in all the people running past him: harried looking women carrying makeup bags and brushes, impatient photographers trying to get the right angle and lighting for a particular frame, agents on their cell phones, and of course, the models running around from one location to another. Harry figured that Ron was in here somewhere, but somehow it didn't take that long for him to find him.
"Oi! Harry! You're here!" Ron hollered. Harry looked behind him to see Ron coming toward him clad in some designer outfit. Harry looked him up and down and shot him a teasing grin. "Well Ron, you certainly know how to class up a botanical garden. What did you bring me here for?" Ron clapped him on the shoulder. "I promised myself that I wouldn't get involved in work while I take a vacation here in Italy, but this ad campaign was one I couldn't possibly refuse! Look, Hermione is going to join us afterwards. I was thinking that we have lunch in a place I know. It's near here, and I'll bring some of my friends with me. I'm sure you'll like them." Ron said. Harry rolled his eyes. "Knowing you, you'd probably count on someone else to choose the place. And what do you mean friends?" he asked.
"Don't worry about the food; I've got it all covered. Over here Hermione!" Ron called, over Harry's shoulder. Harry turned around and amidst all the motion, he saw Hermione right away. She was easily the shortest person among all the people, but there was something about her that made her stand out. She was dressed simply in a sleeveless purple blouse and knee-length pedal pushers. "Hey Ron. Harry." She called back, waving. Harry stood transfixed at her walking towards them, and couldn't quite bring himself to wave back. "What's the emergency?" she smiled. "Nothing, just a little lunch I wanted you to join us in. I'll introduce you to some of my friends." Ron replied.
"Oh, that's it? And Harry's coming too right?" she asked. "Yeah, I am. Hi Hermione." Harry smiled. He felt like a complete idiot right now; why was seeing Hermione suddenly such an issue to him?
"Ron? On the set now, they're looking for you. One last frame, I swear." A man in a rumpled polo shirt and khakis said, running by them. "Damn, I have one more to shoot. D'you think you just hang on a few more minutes? I'll be as quick as I can." Ron said, before taking off in the other direction. Hermione and Harry were left standing there. "Uh, great morning isn't' it?" Harry awkwardly asked. Hermione looked back at him kind of funny. "Yeah…it is. Sleep well?" she asked.
Not really. I had you on my mind most of the night. Harry thought. "Yeah, I did. Um, d'you want to watch Ron make an idiot out of himself in front of the camera?" he asked. Hermione looked at him, puzzled, but she nodded and walked over to where Ron was. They found him in front of an apple tree, posing with a can of soda. The photographer kept shouting directions at him and he followed them, moving where the photographer told him. It was a bit amusing really, and Harry and Hermione had a real job trying to hold in the giggles. They had never seen Ron at work, so this was quite a treat to see.
Ten minutes after, Ron disappeared into a small trailer off the back and emerged wearing regular clothes. He was wearing linen pants, a polo shirt and a pair of flip-flops. He was also carrying a bottle of wine. Harry had never seen Ron dressed so impeccably; his regular getup was normally a pair of worn jeans and a shirt he never bothered to iron. "Lunch or a picnic, I'd say you're overdressed, "Harry remarked. Hermione let out a burst of laughter. "He's actually right you know. Ronald, what's up with you?" she asked. Ron shot them a frown. "I'm sorry, but since when did the two of you care how I dressed?"
"Sorry Ron, but we know how you really are about Muggle clothes. It's just a treat to see you look normal dressed as a Muggle. And you don't look too bad." Hermione answered. Ron blushed, but recovered quickly. "Look, we'd better get going. The guys are already waiting for us. Oh, and by the way, they're all Muggle, so please don't pull anything."
They all piled into Ron's rented car, making sure to situate the wine in a safe spot. "Tell us again Ron; where are we going for lunch?" Harry asked. "It's in a little place called La Piazza. I did an endorsement for them once, so we've got a free lunch going." He answered from the front seat. Hermione tapped his head. "Typical Ron. The only place you can possibly consider for lunch or dinner are those where you can get free food," she teased. Harry laughed, but quieted down when Ron shot him a glare from the rearview mirror. "Right. And I do remember an incident at a certain restaurant where a certain friend of mine hogged most of the food at the buffet table. People were starting to wonder where the hole in the table was," Harry shot back. This time, Ron's ears burned bright red, and Harry couldn't keep the laughter in. Hermione joined in, and for a split second, Harry started to notice the way a dimple appeared near Hermione's mouth, the way her lips curved up when she laughed, and how neat and straight her teeth were. Her eyes were sparkling with tears of laughter and her face was flushed from laughing.
He was entranced.
Luckily for him, Hermione might have noticed him staring were it not for Ron's sudden announcement of, "We're here!" The spell was broken, and Harry was left reeling.
Ron helped Hermione out of the car and asked Harry to carry the wine. Once they were all out, Harry took a good look at the place. The La Piazza was a lovely little country restaurant, obviously run by the family who owned it. The walls of the place had ivy crawling all around it, and it had little white blossoms that grew in spots on the ivy. Hermione had obviously been here before because a plump old lady with puffy white hair came out with a floury apron, clapping her hands together when she saw Hermione and Ron. "Ciao, ciao! Ronaldo and Hermione, how wonderful it is to see you two again! Mama Isabella has missed you so much!" the lady said, kissing them on both cheeks. Harry stood behind them, gripping the bottle of wine. He felt quite out of place, but not before Isabella pushed her way between Ron and Hermione and gave Harry a big hug. "Ciao, and who are you?" she asked. Harry said, "I'm Harry ma'am. Um, it's nice to meet you." From behind Isabella, Ron gestured to Harry to give the bottle of wine to her. "Um, this is for you ma'am…"Harry said, extending the bottle to her. She took it, and then kissed Harry on both cheeks. "Thank you very much Harry, but you must call me Mama Isabella. And anytime you want to come here, you will always get a free meal okay?" she said, hugging him. Harry had to smile, and he took the old lady's arm through his. "Alright Mama; shall we?"
Isabella led them to a table already full of people. What Harry noticed though, was that they were all young and very good-looking. The men were handsome and tall; the women slender and gorgeous. Ron discreetly said, "They're all model friends of mine. We all happened to be in Italy for the same ad campaign," Harry nodded, and shot a glance over at Hermione. She was standing right behind him, looking quite uneasy.
"Hey, Ron's here." An emaciated-looking blond drawled. Ron's head cocked up at the sound of his name. "Roxanne! How are you, luv?" Ron greeted, giving her a kiss on both cheeks. "Same old, same old. It's absolutely lovely to see you again. Who would have thought we'd all be in the same part of Europe during our break?" she said, lacing her arms around his neck. Ron lightly clasped her waist and addressed everyone at the table. "Everyone, this is Harry." Ron said, gesturing to Harry.
The whole table looked at him, and Harry found himself looking at everyone at the table. "Harry, this is everyone. You've all met Hermione right?" Ron said. The girls stared at Harry, obviously finding him more than just fair-looking. "Come on Harry, have a seat next to me!" a redhead smiled, clearing her jacket off a chair next to her. Harry's eyes ticked over to Hermione, not quite wanting to leave her alone. "Have a seat next to me 'Mione," Ron said, holding out a chair for her. Harry slid over to the redhead (whose name was Georgia) and sat down. She was gorgeous, sexy, and as Harry found out during the meal, annoyingly chatty.
"Oh, and when my boyfriend and I were in Milan, I saw the most darling skirt in a little boutique! I couldn't leave until I bought it, so I made my boyfriend buy it for me," she recounted, addressing only Harry. He mentally rolled his eyes; all she had been blabbing about were clothes, boys, her job, and more useless things. He was getting quite pissed actually. His seatmates were no better; he found that most of them were quite self-absorbed, and they hardly ate anything.
While Georgia turned around and talked to another girl, Harry absentmindedly looked for Hermione. She was seated next to Ron, trying to keep up with the conversations that were swirling around her. He could tell that she was bored with all the conversations going around her. After all, she was smarter than all of them put together. Harry's mind stuck on her for a few more minutes, just drinking in the sight of her when a fresh new thought popped into his brain: He was in love with her.
Love. It wasn't the fool admiration that most men felt for such efficient women, nor was it the temporary lust that they felt for the gorgeous ones. That was the kind of feeling you'd have for one of these model-type girls, but Harry saw that Hermione was so much more beautiful than them. And he felt it was the hit-you-in-the-face kind of love, but he knew that it had been there all along. It just needed a nudge in the right direction. He had probably fallen in love with her when she had picked him up at the airport, and he saw her standing in front of him. She was his guiding light and the only one who could let him know that he was being the best man he could ever be.
The realization left him a little winded.
"Ron, pipe down, I've got to tell you something!" Harry exasperatedly said. Ron was dancing around the room in an obvious high. "Just shoot Harry, you know I'm listening," he answered. Harry sighed. "Ron, I think I've realized something. Well, not exactly realized, since I've known it all along, but…"
"You're in love with Hermione, aren't you?" Ron asked. Harry didn't answer for a second, obviously surprised. "Well, yes I am Ron. How did you figure that out?"
Ron snorted. "You think I'm blind, don't you? Well, actually I had already guessed that you had something for her a long time ago. But just this afternoon, there was a moment where you just spaced off and had this really odd look in your eyes. You were focusing on Hermione, and that's when I realized you were in love with her," he explained.
Harry mulled it over, but it still didn't make any sense. "Come on Ron; there's got to be another explanation. How is it that you figured it out at the same time I did?" he asked. Ron sat down next to him. "We're best mates. Of course I noticed. Besides, how else could you possibly justify it when you are sitting at a table crowded with the crème de la crème of the model world?"
He was right. There was no better explanation than that. "Y'know, you could have at least let me in on this a little earlier than now. I had a hard time sleeping last night because I couldn't quite figure out things myself." Harry said, reclining on his back on the bed.
"Chalk it up to logic, you'll find that a little goes a long way," Ron winked.
Harry tossed a pillow at him in reply.
Hermione was standing in her room, looking quite dejected. She had a funny feeling that she had lost Harry for good this time. He might have fallen for one of Ron's colleagues, particularly since he had been sandwiched between two of them at lunchtime. He wasn't all that responsive to her after that either, almost like he had something important on his mind.
I'll tell him tomorrow how I feel. It's only fair, so at least we can both go on with our lives forever, she sadly thought to herself.
Looking out the window, she could see the light still on in Harry and Ron's suite. Her heart sank even lower, heavy with the knowledge that Harry was and never would be attracted to her type. He had always liked girls who were contented with a few fancy gifts and a lot of attention. It had destroyed him as a man eventually.
Oh Harry. Why don't you seem to want to accept what's best for you? I love you so much, and I want to be the best woman for you.
A/N: I'm soooo sorry this took forever to put up. It's the final stretch of the school year, and the teachers are loading us up on schoolwork, plus two major requirements that will be completed in three weeks. I promise I'll have more time to update then.