A/N: Thanks for the reviews! There are just a two more chapters left of this story, and it will be done. There has been so much heart into this project, especially where the emotion and the experience is concerned. In this chapter, Ron is one of those characters who single handedly backhands Harry in the face with everything he's ever done to Hermione, and manages not to ruin his perfect model's manicure. It's almost like a Kate and Leopold ending, but I'll stop here because I may say too much. Enjoy!
CHAPTER TENHarry blew a smoke ring through his nostrils, and settled deeper into his couch. The ash dropped off the butt and onto the carpet as he leaned over and picked up the beer bottle on the floor. He sighed as he took in the new state of his flat, obviously not caring whether the obsessive habits of a lifetime had failed to reflect themselves in the past week. Dirty clothes were strewn around the chairs and tables, his suitcases were still unpacked, boxes of half-eaten takeaway littered the floor, and there was a faint scent of stale alcohol in the air. He had been home from Italy for almost a week now, and it would be a few more days until the Quidditch fields would open again. So he had holed himself up in his flat, drinking and smoking the time away.
Suddenly, there was a loud banging on the door. Harry ran a hand over his unshaven chin and groaned. The last thing he wanted now was some nosy reporter asking him for what happened. "Go away, dammit!" he shouted at the door. The banging stopped, but there was a faint sound of a spoken word and the door clicked open. Ron pushed the door open forcefully, leaving it to bounce off the wall after he strode in.
"Oh my god. Mum would have a bloody fit if she saw this! Harry, what's happened to you? You're more slobbish than I am now!" he exclaimed, wrinkling his nose at the smell and the sight of the flat. He focused on Harry, still seated in his easy chair, smoking. "Speak for yourself Ron; what happened to your face?" he indifferently asked. Ron was now sporting two black eyes and a swollen jaw. "The left eye came from Hermione, the right eye from Vittorio. You gave me the jaw," he shrugged. "You deserve the jaw, but why did they punch you?" Harry slurred. "Hermione hit me after I explained what had happened. She only remembered you hitting me then running off. Vittorio hit me again after he saw Hermione crying out of her office. I swear, she can't drink worth a damn. But enough about that; Harry, what the hell is wrong with you?" he snapped.
Too mellow to care, Harry just snuffed out the cigarette and answered, "It's over Ron. There's nothing in this world I want to go after except Quidditch. You can't trust anyone anymore. I could throw you out of this flat, but I don't care whether you go and steal all my girlfriends because I don't care about anything anymore. So just take that and shove it down your throat."
Ron stood up as if Harry hadn't spoken. "Like it or not, I'm going to explain my side of the story. But I can't have you drunk while I'm talking," he said. He walked over to the kitchen and started pulling out random ingredients out of the cabinet. He also took out a cocktail shaker, measured the ingredients in them, and shook them all inside. He poured it into a glass and brought it over to Harry. He pulled the beer bottle out of Harry's hand and shoved the glass in its place. "Drink that."
Harry raised the glass in a mock toast. "To Ron Weasley, who was once my best friend. May others never have the misfortune to take this bloke as their own best friend," he said. Ron rolled his eyes at the insult, but watched as Harry downed the drink in one go. He set the glass down on the table, and about a minute later, made a mad dash to the loo to be sick. Ron grinned slightly to himself; the 'drink' was actually an antidote to extreme intoxication. When Harry came staggering out, Ron stood up and helped him sit down. "Fuck Ron, what was that?" he asked, gripping his head.
"That was a secret recipe. But now that you're in a right state to listen to me, allow me to explain. First of all, Hermione is very much in love with you. In case you haven't noticed, she's always been there for you. For every single girlfriend, for every single win or loss you've had with your Quidditch games, and even with school, she was there. She's been in love with you since second year for crying out loud! How is it possible, that you didn't notice that?" Ron asked.
Not waiting for an answer, he plowed on. "I had just finished taking a shower when Hermione came to the door. She looked terrible, almost as if someone had broken her heart. I poured us some Firewhiskey and asked her to talk. You should have heard her, because all these things just started pouring out. Things I didn't even think were possible started revealing themselves. There was a lull in the conversation, and then she just came on to me. Kissed me, I mean. Harry, I swear, I didn't kiss her or anything. She was the one who didn't know what else to do about things,"
No longer inebriated, Harry just sat quietly on his chair, thinking. On some unconscious level, he had been only the slightest bit aware that Hermione was in love with him. She was kind of hard to read, especially where emotions and feeling was involved. He always took her for granted because he knew that she had nowhere else to run. He thought he knew Hermione until Ron had spoken to him. "Tell me Ron, why should I believe you? You're already the most sought-after male model in the world, so why should you want to just let go of Hermione when you can have any other girl you want? Unless of course, there was something else you wanted to tell me?" Harry sarcastically said. Ron held up his hands. "I had the feeling that you would say that. Frankly, I don't know what to say to make you believe me, but I'll tell you this much. She actually had a boyfriend before she saw you again. He was the perfect man, from what I've heard. You know the type, the one who buys loads of fancy jewelry and takes her out to these expensive restaurants and shit. It seemed to be the perfect romance until she caught her boyfriend in the kitchen with her headwaiter. And they were doing loads more than just stirring up soup," he shuddered.
"But when that happened, she never mentioned a word of it to me. Unless you're a complete robot, I guess you'd be flooding your best mates with owls and phone calls about the whole story. Knowing Hermione, she's anything but. She also has all these magazines about the National Quidditch Team of England in her office, but she's not a huge Quidditch fan herself. My guess is that she's been in love with you all this time, but she figured that if she found herself another guy, she would forget about you. Apparently she hasn't. Not even Vittorio thinks she's ever forgotten about you, particularly since you and her have gotten a lot closer when you were in Italy. She loves you Harry, more than you will ever know," Ron continued.
Ron's words hit Harry like a club against a wayward Bludger. There was so much he had screwed up beyond fixing. "Damn Ron…I've lost her," he sighed, gripping his face in his hands.
"No you haven't Harry. You can still go after her. I spoke to Vittorio again, and he agreed reluctantly to help me get you and Hermione get back together. He mentioned that a French franchiser was looking to expand Villa San Lorenzo into France and in England. The papers have already been in motion for over a year now, and the final contract signing will be done here in London. She will be in town in three days; it's up to you to make your move." Ron said.
Something sparked inside of Harry. It was strong and clear, and it cleared the smoke and alcohol out of his brain. "Ron, I have to go after her. She's the only one I've ever felt this way for, and Vittorio was right. You would know if you found the one you are willing to give up the world for. I've found it in Hermione, and I can't let her get away," he said, getting up and pacing around. Ron let out a huge sigh; at least Harry was convinced of the sincerity of his words.
"I'm glad that's over. Look, I'm really glad you're up and functioning again, but can I please just offer to clean up your flat? The mess is too much for even me to take." Ron said. Harry turned on Ron with a sheepish grin. "Yeah, I guess you could. The smell's getting a little strong," Ron took out his wand and waved it at Harry's unpacked suitcase. "Look, you just take a shower. I swear, not even a locker room at your Quidditch pitch could pass you in smell. I'll get this cleaned up for you," he said. Harry disappeared into his room to take a shower, feeling lighter than he had in days.
When Harry had come out, the flat was sparkling neat and it even smelled good. "Wow Ron; who would have thought that you'd be any sort of domestic nut," Harry grinned, looking around. "What can I say? Pine Fresh has always been a favorite smell of mine. You're looking happy," Ron answered. Harry stretched. "I'm in love with the most beautiful woman in the world, yeah I'm more than a bit chuffed. Look Ron, I'm sorry about the jaw. I guess I was just so angry…"
"S'all good mate. I completely understand. I'd do the same thing if I were you. You're just lucky I was given a break by the agency, so I have a fair few months to heal this up. Otherwise, I would have give you something not even a Bludger could do," Ron said. Harry smiled at Ron and gave him a quick jab in the side. "Great to have you back Ron,"
Three days later, at the London HiltonHermione was pacing back and forth past the ceiling-to-floor mirror in the hallway. She was never particularly good at speaking in front of a large audience, and just the thought of it was making the butterflies inside her stomach go on spin cycle. She wiped her sweaty palms for the nth time on the skirt of her gown, and tried to catch a breath while reviewing her short speech in her head. The way she was feeling now was almost like the way she had felt when she waited for Harry near the stairs when he took her out for dinner. But she pushed that thought away as soon as it came because it would be stupid to think of Harry while she was in front of all those people. She didn't need that kind of distraction right now.
"A few more turns on that carpet, you're going to end up with a huge burn mark in the middle," a deep, teasing voice said. Hermione's head snapped around and she saw Ron. She stopped pacing right away. "Ron! What on earth are you doing here?" she asked, more surprised than irritated. "Vittorio told me that you'd be in town, so I decided I'd come and visit. You know, for moral support," he replied. Hermione took in his bruised face and made a tsk, tsk sound. "You look terrible, but you know you deserve it. Have you spoken to Harry?" she asked, almost automatically. Damn, I did not mean to do that, she snapped at herself.
Ron was nearly about to open his mouth to answer when a tall, burly guy came out of the ballroom and motioned to her. "Miss Granger, if you don't mind. They're waiting for you," he said. Hermione turned to Ron quickly and said, "Stay near the door; I might throw up my dinner in front of everyone," Ron nodded, "Sure 'Mione. Now get there and knock them down,"
Hermione disappeared through the doors and made her way to the podium amidst all the clapping. The speech was going through her mind and she was already starting to get nervous from the prospect of talking in front of all these people. It was damn nice of Ron to show up now to support her, at least he would be the one who would help her out of there if she ended up hurling her dinner out from nervousness.
Once the clapping had died down, she took a breath and looked around. All these expectant faces were looking at her. "Uh, hey. Good evening everyone. I'm Hermione…General Manager for Villa San Lorenzo," she started. They clapped a little for her. "Uh yeah. Thanks. Well, as you know, you are all here for the signing of contracts between Le Beau Franchising and the Villa. This collaboration allows us to spread the Italian feel of home all throughout Europe. We will be starting construction on our new branches in France, and soon, in England,"
There was a big round of applause at the prospect. "The Villa has been world-renowned for its homey atmosphere and vibe. It is what makes it so successful, particularly because the Italians have strong foundations in their family life. It is a well-known fact that Italians are very fond of their families, and we wish to extend that to the rest of the world," she continued. She took a look from her notes, searching for Ron. She was doing this quite smoothly now, but she needed to see a familiar, reassuring face. She looked by the door and saw…
Harry, standing by the threshold of the door.
For a second, her brain lost connections with her mouth. What was he doing here? Did he even know what he was doing to her brainwaves just by standing there?
He looked tired and dulled out but there was something different in those lovely green eyes of his that showed more than just platonic admiration or anything else. She tore her gaze away from his face and mentally scanned her brain for what she was to say next. "Signora, are you alright?" Vittorio whispered from the front row. "The…familial feeling that the Villa expresses in its service is the product of our efforts to make every visitor feel that he is loved and cared for, as in a family," she managed. The whole room was silent now, hanging on to her every word. "And I am glad that Le Beau is willing to help us expand the friendliness and love of the Italians to more parts of Europe because the world needs a little more love these days. And if we could all just love like the Italians do, I guess we wouldn't have so many problems anymore would we?" she asked the crowd, directing the question more to Harry than to them.
"And so…before I leave, I would just like to applaud Le Beau Franchising and Villa San Lorenzo's willingness to spread the love, more than just the hotel industry. Thanks and good night," she finished. Vittorio helped her get off the stage; she was shaking so hard now. "Vittorio, did you know that Harry was going to be here?" she asked. He did not seem surprised that he was there, but neither did he deny it. "Signora, your future is standing by that doorway. A man like him will never come again, so it's your choice to go after him or not," he said, chucking her under the chin in a fatherly sort of affection. She looked into his face and saw that he was right. It was time she let Alex go and let her heart accept what she already knew was for her. "Thanks Vittorio, for everything," she smiled, kissing him once on the cheek before making her way through the crowd.
Harry had left after her speech. Her words were simple, but they hit him hard. Ron was standing outside the door when he went out. "Did you see her?" he asked. Harry nodded. "Yeah, I did. But I don't think she ever wants to see me again; I did too much to her already." He sighed, hanging his shoulders. Ron felt his gut wrench. "Harry, did you even talk to her? Just wait for her to come out…" Ron pleaded.
"No Ron, it's all over. I have to get back," Harry said.
Hermione made a mad dash to the exit. Her heels were tripping her up, and the skirt of her gown was in the way, but nothing was going to keep her away from Harry, especially now that he was so close.
"Bye Ron, I'll see you around. It's the Quidditch finals soon; I'll send you some tickets when I get them," Harry said before making for the exit. Ron waved lamely back and let out a gust of breath. He was quite disappointed at the turnout of things because he knew that those two were meant for each other. He turned around to summon the valet when Hermione came dashing out at him. "Where is he? Harry, has he gone?" she frantically asked. "Hermione! He just left, he thought you didn't want to talk to him again!" Ron incredulously said, holding her arms. She looked wildly over his shoulder. "He what? Ron, you have to help me find him!" she said. Ron looked behind him and saw that Harry was standing at the entrance of the hotel waiting for the valet to bring his car around. He was a good thirty feet from where they were standing, and he would have gone by the time Hermione got to him. "Hermione, he's standing outside. You cannot let him leave you, do you understand me?" he instructed.
"Loud and clear. Ron, thanks for everything." She smiled. She started running towards Harry, but her heels got in her way again. "Goddamn heels!" she cursed before kicking them both off, hitching up her skirt to above her knees and running to Harry. She had to elbow off quite a lot of people to get to him, but it was her loud shriek that finally got Harry's attention.
"Harry!"
He was just about to slide into his car when he heard his name above the noise. His head jerked up, and he saw Hermione running full sail towards him. She wasn't wearing any shoes, and her elegant hairstyle was falling apart. "Hermione, it's you!" he said, running towards her. She crashed into him and he caught her. The words just kept spilling out, almost as if she had no time to get them out. "Harry, I'm so sorry about what happened with Ron but I just couldn't stop myself and I had four glasses of Firewhiskey but I just want you to know that I love you so much Harry and if there's anything I can possibly do to make up for what happened I will spend the rest of eternity making it up to you as long as I get to spend eternity with you. Please forgive me Harry, I love you so much," she said in one long breath. She looked up into his eyes, half-expecting him to shove her away or at least ask her to repeat what she had just said. But instead, he looked down at her with all the love in the world, brushed a wayward piece of hair off her face and cupped her cheek. Her eyes started to tear up at the tender gesture. "You're probably not going to believe me when I say this, but I've been subconsciously in love with you too. You are such an important part of my life, and I've forgotten what it's like to not be in love with you. To have you gone would probably kill me. It doesn't matter anymore if you've kissed Ron because I've done worse to you. I'm sorry I gave you so much misery over this, but I want you to know that I have found in you the one person I am willing to give up the world for. I'll even give up Quidditch so we can live in Italy and you can continue working at the Villa. Anything Hermione, I'll give it up for you," he said.
People were starting to gather around them. A few photographers had their cameras out and were about to take their pictures when Ron stopped them all saying, "Leave them alone you lot or I'll give you a face that looks worse than mine," he growled. Of course, none of them wanted to cross him, not after a look at his face.
Tears were spilling out her eyes now, smudging her mascara. "You would do that for me?" she asked. "Of course Hermione. And I'd love to spend eternity with you," Harry smiled before lowering his mouth to hers. Their first kiss was gentle and sweet, like a first kiss ought to be. In it was an unspoken promise of a lifetime, to love and cherish and care for. Hermione knew that she had found her other half, and that he felt the same way for her. Her whole lifetime of hopelessly pining after Harry had now come full circle, knowing that it hadn't been a lost cause after all. Harry felt complete, now that he had Hermione in his arms and in his life forever. He found the perfect woman, one who was both smart and breathtakingly beautiful, and one he knew would love him back for who he entirely was.
When they pulled back from each other, Harry had mascara smudges on his cheeks and lipstick smears around his mouth. Hermione smiled at him through her tears, and Harry grinned back while wiping away a tear from her face. "I love you 'Mione," he whispered. "Love you too Harry," she whispered back. He picked her up and twirled her around once, laughing and crying and kissing at the same time.
"Okay you two, that's quite enough. I'm having a bit of a job here, keeping all these people off," Ron called to them. "Right. We'll reserve this for another time," Harry said, lowering Hermione. She kept her arm around Harry's waist, and she jokingly called out to Ron, "Ron, you're always such a dear. Would you mind very much if you just brought my shoes with you?"
"Not at all," he gritted out, sounding like he did. Harry opened the door to his car and let Hermione in. "Ron, thanks so much. When you get out of there, drinks are on me," he called. "I just want a Screwdriver through your brain," he mock-threateningly said. Harry gave him a jaunty salute and drove off with Hermione.
A/N: Ahh…sa wakas! Now you know what happened with Harry and Hermione. What do you think? Is it too cheesy? Do email me or review and let me know what you think.