A/N: Hello everyone! It's been quite a while between chapters, hasn't it? I've been busy job-hunting here in Welly, and I've managed to sort myself out a few things. How have you all been?
We all know how hard it can be to dissuade someone from doing a silly thing, but if some fun can be had out of it, why not?
Allez, allez
The Roommate – Chapter 3
"You're such a bore, you know that right?" Sirius groaned as Hermione kept a firm grip on his arm. They were walking through Diagon Alley, shortly after they had finished breakfast. Hermione was determined to dissuade Sirius from his building project; Sirius just thought she didn't want to get her hands dirty.
It was a beautiful day to be outdoors. The sun was out and it was warming her through her clothes. She'd chosen a loose-fitting tunic over some black denim cut-offs so she could feel a light breeze playing with her legs. Sirius looked sulky and brooding in a grey shirt and jeans, but still delicious. Diagon Alley was full of people out doing their shopping, from families purchasing school supplies to young lovers strolling. Summer was in full swing, and the last thing she wanted to do was argue.
"You can do most of the work from the ground, you don't need to climb on anything. I'll even let you boss me around!" he said, trying to steer them into a building supplies store. Hermione saw right through him. She would not be browbeaten like this. "It's not so much that. I don't see why you suddenly have the urge to redecorate!" she said. She yanked him gently back onto the main street and kept walking.
Truth be told, neither could Sirius. He had been seated at the dining room table waiting for Hermione to come down for breakfast and he was thinking of excuses for them to do something together. He knew Hermione wasn't into the fluffy, lovey-dovey stuff, so he jumped across the board and went for the exact opposite. Building something was the manliest thing he could think of. It was probably the most stupid as well.
Lord help him. She looked scrumptious seated across him at breakfast this morning, and all rational thought was thrown out like yesterday's coffee grounds.
Stupid Sirius, stupid. You are such a twit for even thinking that. What the hell do you know about electricity and wiring? He thought to himself, mentally giving his own shins a good, solid kick.
"I don't know, maybe Grimmauld Place is starting to grow on me. With the right fabric, even my mother's portrait might begin to look a little homey…" he said, mustering a cheeky grin. Thank goodness for the big aviator shades he wore; hopefully Hermione wouldn't see it in his eyes that he didn't have a clue what he was doing.
"Yes, and I have thought of Professor Dumbledore naked while in the bath. Give it up Sirius, let's just do something else," Hermione said. As soon as she felt the muscles in his arm relax, she loosened her grip. She let him resume a regular walking pace instead of pulling him away from the shops.
"If you agree that we should at least throw out Mother's old chandelier and put in a new one, then you can plan the great big summer's end party we're throwing before everyone has to go back to Hogwarts," Sirius said.
Her ears had pricked up at this. She did love planning get-togethers, and it sounded like a great idea. She had been working hard all summer on her report and looking after Bill and Fleur's offspring; it was high time she had some adult fun.
"I can see it in your face Hermione, you're going to say yes," Sirius said, his grin getting even bigger. She broke and nudged him with her shoulder. "Some would call that coercion," she said, teasing him with a smile.
"Come on Hermione, it'll be fun. I've been meaning to do it for ages. It'll be something new," he pleaded, now sounding like a child asking for lollies.
"Let's go for ice cream, then we'll talk about it," Hermione sighed, her one last hold on him before she caved.
"Why do they call it hot fudge? By the time it hits the ice cream it's too solid to run and then you just get a blob of chocolate that isn't going anywhere," Sirius said, poking at the congealed fudge topping on his white chocolate and macadamia ice cream. Hermione smiled and shook her head. "You're the only one I can think of who can see something wrong with dessert," she said. Her own Bailey's and rum raisin was absolutely divine, made better with a golden sprinkling of honeycomb.
"There's nothing wrong with it, I'm just saying. If you call it hot fudge then it had better well be hot!" Sirius said. He jabbed at the offending treat with a spoon and stuck it in his mouth. "Nice to know that there are people who think about these pressing things," Hermione chuckled, amused by the frown on his face.
"Are you going to be this pissy when we put in that chandelier, or shall we get a real man to do the work?" she sweetly asked, taking another spoonful of her ice cream. Her teeth crunched on some honeycomb while she waited for him to answer.
At the mention of putting in the chandelier, his face lit up. "So we're really doing this aren't we?" he said.
"I suppose we could try to put one in. It shouldn't be that difficult, loosen a few bolts here and there, put in some new ones…" she said.
"You make it sound so easy."
"Which is why I'm going to do it, and you plan the party Sirius. My condition."
Now that got his attention. "I don't believe I'm following you."
"Simple enough. I install this blasted chandelier you're so keen on, while you plan the end-of-summer party you suggested. You said you wanted to do something new," she said, leaning back in her chair. She hadn't even thought about it, it had just come spilling out. Genius Granger, way to put a spin on things! She mentally told herself.
Sirius studied her. "So you want me to sit around organising a party, while you mess around with my tools installing a chandelier that's bigger than you?"
"Hasn't it filtered in yet? I'm surprised, it took me once to explain to you how Blu-ray worked," she smiled, enjoying this. She'd always enjoyed bantering with him, but it always left her heated and wanting more. This time she had the upper hand, and it was great watching him squirm.
"You can't criticise. No butting in to tell me I ordered the wrong shade of pink for the serviettes," he said, shaking his spoon at her.
"Deal. The same goes for you. I am perfectly capable of putting in a chandelier without you telling me I'm using the wrong screws. And pink serviettes are for sweet sixteen's, or is that just wishful thinking?" she asked.
He couldn't be serious anymore, so he dabbed his spoon against her nose, leaving a smear of ice cream across her face. "That's for calling me a girl. We'll see who's laughing after you land yourself in St Mungo's," he said.
"Who says it's going to be me?"
A/N: Clearly, I am wishing that it were summer here in New Zealand. It's icy cold here in the flat and I can't be fussed building up a fire. I hope you're enjoying yourselves up in the Northern Hemisphere, and that you enjoy this next chapter.
