Chaper 4: Lunch
It has been seven months and eleven days since they first met.
It was his fortieth visits. He couldn't wait to share his good news with her. His excitement shown as clear as crystal on his face, singing Carl Douglas's Kung Fu Fighting with his surprisingly excellent imitation of Willy Wonka's heels click, ーminus the caneー without a care of his surroundings. His godson was going to be a father and he felt everything was finally okay, like everything was finally settled into one big great picture. Greater than those renaissance paintings, those that displayed in museum. His happiness grew more as he reached the only one small cottage in the big city.
He took a seat on one of the unused extra stool at the corner as he looked around at the full house cafe; it seemed like everyone in the town were too lazy to make breakfast that morning from the look of it. He inhaled contentedly and puffed his chest out, proud of her accomplishment. As he stretched out his long legs, clothed with dark grey slim-fit jeans and a pair of dark brown buckle ankle boots on his feet, he heard a loud shriek from one of the table near the big window.
"No! You promised a red wedding! I don't want to wear white! It makes me look fat!" The young woman yelled at her now red-faced fiancée. He snickered at the scene as it reminded him of their own fight right at that very table a month ago.
"What do you mean, you don't know? This is your house!" He ran his fingers along his hair, frustrated at her incompetence. His freshly brewed coffee forgotten.
"Yes. It is my house but it wasn't my fault if you couldn't find whatever it is you're looking for! You were the one who hide it yourself, you were the one who was too excited to surprise me, and you were the one who saw it last!"
On a better day when they weren't fighting or screaming on each other's throat, he would find her angry face ーdilated pupils, messy curls rolled off here and there, framing her heart-shaped face, extra pouty quivering pink lips, and he swore he saw her hair crackled in redー sexy as hell. But as now were obviously not the said better day, he found her angry face annoyingly still sexy as hell and it confused him to no end he cursed himself.
"Kitten, you know all the nooks and crooks of this old dying cottage! So why couldn't you find it?"
He knew the moment she gave him the deadliest venomous look she could have mustered was the exact moment that he was unambiguously ーhow to put this eloquentlyーfucked. She slammed both of her hands on the small round table hard enough that his black coffee splashed out of his favourite gold-coloured cup.
"Old dying cottage? You said old dying cottage?" she shrilled. "Dégage, branleur! Ve ta faire enculer!"
She threw the closest thing to her, ーan empty uncleaned black mug from the previous customer that was on the next table of theirsー right to his face which he survived from thanks to his quick instinct to duck. His French was rusty but he'd dare to put a wager on all his family's wealth that she was cursing him to next year and him being all irate and whiny, foolishly opened his stupid mouth.
"Oui! Whatever it is you said, oui! This is a very ancient cottage and it smells musty! Like an old farts' love shack! Like dead rats!"
"Fine! If it smells so bad, why don't you leave then?!" She said with her arms crossed on her torso, her curls went wayward they gave him an illusion of an electrified tentacles, completed with the vehement enraged look in her big brown eyes, it was as if Medusa was looking at him straight into his grey eyes and he couldn't move from his spot,ーfrozenー enchanted by the maddening beauty of his wrathful kitten.
"Well?! What are you waiting for?! Go on then!" She bent down to pick the next nearest thing which was his pair of Tricker's burford derby boots and threw it to him. He caught one boot easily with one hand but got hit accurately on his aristocrat nose with the other one.
"Leave!" He didn't need to be told twice. He gave her one last furious look and walked out of his now least-favourite cafe into the dark cold midnight, his Tricker's boots tucked firmly between his right arm and his armpit. He huffed out an angry breath. Muttering to himself about the old cottage.
That woman! I was just stating the truth! It is ancient! Rusty old stuff! Creaking here and there, everywhere smells like Crookshanks' piss, cracks on the bedroom's ceiling, shakes under heavy rains, wildflowers annoyingly blooms literally everywhere, filled with antiques, with classic tea sets, that ol' quiet, private, quaint, space of kitten!"
He stopped walking and groaned in his hands that were rubbing his face with great force in shame, her angry face came to his mind.
"What have I done?"
He traced his steps back. He knew it wasn't her fault. He was the one who decided to hide it from her. Wanted to make it a surprise finding for her; like a treasure hunt. And him being a dull-witted brainless old man he was, lashed it out on her when it was he himself alone were to blame. His heart beat rate increased as he saw the red front door. He was steeling himself, getting prepared to ask for her forgiveness when a man's voice could be heard from inside. He stopped and crouched down to hide himself behind one out of the two small round table that sat on the porch. Why did he hide? He had not a slightest idea why. It was midnight, or 12:16 after midnight if he wanted to be specific. So which imbecile did the voice belong to? Barging into someone's house at this ungodly hour! People sleeps, for fucks sake! He hide deeper where the light couldn't shone which got him to end up hiding under the table as the red door opened abruptly, followed by the stranger's roaring laughter. He couldn't see their face but from his line of view he knew this imbecile was an ugly git without any fashion sense. He shook his head in disagreement at his magenta robe that didn't match his bright orange sneakers.
"Don't you dare to leave yet, George! Not until you give it back! This is not funny! You can't just take anything that you like without asking me!"
The imbecile, now identified as a moving thing called 'George', snickered at his kitten and he could just picture her scowling face.
"How should I know not to take that one out. Usually you'd just let me grab any of your stuff and leave. You know how intrigued I am with all these things that you own, including that one itty bitty green satin shorts, or more known as 'some-bloke's-boxer-who-I-let-in-to-my-small-hidden-sanctuary' in your drawer." She gasped and covered her mouth with both of her hands. "Tell me, luv. Are you hiding a man in there? Is that why you've been avoiding our Honourary Sundays' lunch?"
He could feel his mouth slowly curled upwards and morphed into the smile of one Cheshire Cat from a book that his little cousin forced him to read her ages ago; Alicia? Alice? In Wonderwand? Or something like that, he wasn't sure.
Good! The git 'George' found his boxer and kitten even stood him up on their dates! Ha!
Her voice stopped his train of thought. "I'm 28, George. I can see anyone I want, whenever I want, wherever I want! And you know I wasn't avoiding you."
He heard a rustling sound of clothes, suggesting they had moved closer into a hug. "I know, I know. But it's been two years, luv. Don't you miss my inane table manner?"
She laughed. "Oh, George! I do miss you, so terribly. I promise I'll think about it, okay? Now, can you please give me back the mysterious red box you've found? I believe that was what he was looking for earlier."
"I knew it's not yours. You won't spend your money on something as eye-catching as that!" George gave her a knowing wink.
"Oh dear. What is it? Is it expensive? That man! Where is it, George?"
"I put it back to where I found it. That's why I snuck here after midnight. Was hoping you'd be asleep so I can put it back without a trace. Come on, let me show you."
Once the door swung shut, he got up from his hiding place, smoothing dusts off his rider jacket and his tight black leather pants. His Jeffery West Moon chelsea boot's heels creaked the wooden floor as he paced right in front of the glaring red door, tempting him to come inside to his kitten. He could hear their soft voice and laughter and damn that bloke for making her giggled all cutesy like that! And that thought alone made his stomach queasy, he could feel a puke threatened to come out. He didn't like this feeling. He didn't like her giggles if they were cause by other blokes and not himself. His body moved before his mind could brain his actions. He burst the door open to see what was so great with this George, that son of aー
"Where is George?" He asked, his hand still on the opened door's knob as his eyes travelled around looking for any sign of that fucker who made his kitten giggled so much as if it was the last time she could giggle before the world end. Satisfied that he wasn't there, he settled his eyes on her.
"You missed him by a mere second. He just left through the back door. You know him?" She raised an eyebrow. Her baby blue night gown billowed as she spun to him sharply.
"Wait a second. You hate this place! What are you doing strutting back here like you own this slimy old cottage?!"
"I don't strut! And I don't hate this place! And I am very much sure didn't use the word slimy! I love this place and everything inside it!" He waved his hands in the air, pointedly at her.
"Oh, really? Then why did you say all those mean things? You know how much I love this old cottage!" Her narrowed eyes eyed him with disbelief.
"I didn't mean any of those, kitten. I was justー just so anxious." Both his hands limped on his sides, he clenched and unclenched his fists as he continued.
"I was nervous, alright? I came here all prepared to let you on to the surprise since you hadn't found it even after a week I hid it. Honestly, kitten. I thought you were sharp but you couldn't even find a blazing red box that was not-so-hidden right beside your little fridge there under the counter?"
"I know. George showed me where you hid it just now," she said proudly.
He swallowed his nausea back at the mention of that bollock's name and continued his admission as if she didn't give him her unwanted input. He rolled his eyes inwardly as he made his way to the bar, right where she stood.
"I was a ball of nervous wreck, but I summoned enough guts to give you your surprised personally, which was never the plan. So I came here, at midnight, when I knew you'd be alone for sure, just to give youー" he reached down and pulled out the medium sized red box and put it on the bar and held her hands, squeezing them. "ーthis. Okay kitten this is my first gift to you so don't mind my sweaty palms because I'm not going to lie kitten I'm freaking shitting myself here so please please please open the damn box now and accept it whether you like it or not." He said it all in one breath. She squeezed his hands back, assuring him and moved to open her gift.
"Oh my. Mister! You did not!" She was gaping with her mouth agape, shifting her widened eyes from her gift to him then to her gift then to him again. He gave her a wolfish grin and spun around showing off his black leather studded rider jacket.
"We match!" He exclaimed excitedly and took her new black leather studded rider jacket out of the red box, exactly like his, just smaller in size of course, and put it on her. It fitted her perfectly. He hummed with joy, obviously pleased with himself, as he zipped up the bold statement jacket and kissed her forehead with a loud smacking sound. He then twirled her around to Maurice Williams and The Zodiacs' Stay. Both adults were giggling like two kids who just found some big world-shattering secret that no one had any idea about. And he swore he would never let some stupid fuckheads, another 'George', make her giggled like this ever again. These giggles belonged to him alone.
His.
Thunderous congratulatory claps for the couple brought him back from his memory. He shouted his congratulations and bought the couple a mocktail each, treating their customers with his best regards.
"It's our cafe, mister." She said once and he had this funny fluttering feeling in his stomach when she said that to him. He got up from the stool he sat on before and strode to get a seat on his now freed favourite seat at the bar. He called out for her but instead of kitten, it was a guy who came to him, a 'George'. His smile faded at once only to be replaced with an ugly scowl at this 'George'. He felt another weird feeling. It was as if there was something sharp twisting in his stomach, stabbing his innards with fury, and he decided he didn't like this feeling at all. He asked the sodding 'George' coldly.
"Where's kitten?"
Sodding 'George' looked confused at his hostile approach for a second and he looked stupid with his head tilted like that until it clicked. His face now brightened with sudden realization and he grinned widely, too wide for his comfort.
"So, you must be the mister that she told us about, huh?"
He could feel his cheeks warmed up and judging from sodding 'George' annoying gleeful face, he knew his face now was as red as his favourite kitten's homemade strawberry jams. Too-pleased 'George snorted loudly, that bastard. "Sheー" He cleared his dry throat. "ーShe told you about me?"
"Of course! She told all of us! But when we asked her to take you with her to our monthly reunion she just blushed and said, "I want to keep him just for myself as long as I can." Her exact words. Funny how you both never know each other's name. It's really quite romantic."
"Yeah we didn't even try to hide our names. It just that we kind of skipped the exchanging pleasantries part." He rubbed his neck bashfully and smiled fondly remembering how she bossed him around on their first meeting.
Kinda-okay 'George' hummed an 'oh'. "So, do you want to know?"
"I want to know what?"
The other guy wiggled his eyebrow and gave him a mischievous smile. "Your kitten's name."
He paused for a moment and chuckled. "Nah, mate. It's alright. We're good."
He shrugged. "Suit yourself. You better make your move, tho'. Word of advice, woo her as soon as possible. Just last week that big guy, Viktor, flew here from his country just to have a 'dinner' with her, which she was so oblivious about, and took Pad with her to one of the most romantic dinner, according to Pad. Poor bloke. That woman has blokes around her tail without her even trying."
He paled at that. Of course. His kitten was the muse of the man who invented the word 'perfect', if anyone didn't know of the important fact already. She was beautiful, compassionate, witty, smart, funny, everything that men ever wanted. And he had yet to discover what was going on between them. What were all these weird feelings that he had been having whenever she was around? This thrilling sensation to see her, this tingling feels in his stomach when she smiled at him, this queasy feeling whenever she spoke about 'Georges', just, what the fuck? He shook his head and asked this less-annoying 'George' instantly. "When can I see her?"
Tolerable 'George' lifted his left wrist to check the time. "Now is 9:15. She's having lunch with her friends and those lots will force her to stay until dinner too." Getting-there 'George' muttered something sounded like "those weasels" under his breath. "So maybe around... midnight? I'm not sure but she'll be back by tomorrow. She asked me to look after the cafe only for today."
"Thanks, mate. Would love to stay and help you around but I have a lunch date too. See you around then?" He was about to leave when the started-to-get-annoying-again 'George' pulled him back down.
"Not so fast, mister. We've been hearing about you for months. Now let's take a picture together to document our first historical meeting and of course, so I can show you off to our other friends." Needy 'George' leaned his upper body on the bar towards him to reach him as close as he could, their cheeks now squashed together, it was comical.
"Now, shall we?"
They took pictureー picturesー with his phone. "It's nice to finally meet you, mister. It's an honour to be the first one, in our circle, to meet you. Just so you know, you made me 187 pounds richer. Tell you what? Next time we met, I'll buy you a round."
He laughed and started to like this quite-okay 'George'. "Keep it, mate. Kitten gives me a lifetime nineteen percent off. Yeah, about that, what is it with her and nineteen?"
"Oh, you noticed? It's her birthday, mate. September 19. She told us nine is her lucky number."
"September huh?" New information filed under 'Kitten'. This is good. "Don't tell her I found out about her birthday, alright?"
"Planning a surprise, are we?" He smirked knowingly. "I can help you. Like distracting her or something while you prepare your surprise."
"That would be great. Can I have your number then?" He gave helpful 'George' his phone so he could type in his number. Once done he read the number out loud just to be sure again.
"Anthony. Thanks, Anthony. I really appreciate this. And thank you for telling me about her birthday too!"
Anthony waved his hand coolly. "Not a problem, mate. In fact, I owe you. 187 pounds remember?"
He laughed and said his goodbye. He couldn't wait to plan the best surprise for his kitten. He left for his lunch date cheerfully and sang Carl Douglas's Kung Fu Fighting again and of course it wouldn't be complete without his excellent imitation of Willy Wonka's heels click, would it now?
Her phone rang and she saw the caller was Anthony. She answered. "Hullo, Goldstein. How's the cafe?"
"Ouch, luv. You wounded me. And here I am taking a good care of your cafe and extra gentle care of your mister just to have your uncaring perfect arse blatantly ignoring my welfare?"
She rolled her eyes. She could just imagine Anthony held his fisted hand on his heart, feigning hurt. "How are you, my sweet Goldstein? Thank you for taking care of my cafe and my misterー wait, what?!" She heard Anthony's laugh from the other side of the phone. "Anthony! What do you mean you're taking care of my mister? Is he there?"
"He left an hour ago. A very charming bloke, I must say. You did good, luv. Better than the guy before. We even took pictures together! I'm so going to show this to Pad and T. They owe me 187 pounds! I won the bet!"
"You guys are bonkers. Did you tell him I'll be out until late?"
"Yeah I told him the earliest you'll be home at midnight. Cafe is doing great, by the way. Don't worry. You go and have fun with your brothers and sisters, alright?"
"Alright. Thank you, Anthony. You know I love you."
"And I love you too. Oh, new order's calling! I'll see you tomorrow?"
"Of course! Bye, Anthony."
"Bye, luv!"
She was about to put her phone back when she received a text. Anthony sent her multiple pictures of him and her mister. She smiled fondly at his awkward face, squashed cheek to cheek with Anthony's. She remembered their first time taking polaroid picture together.
"Kitten, let me hold it. My hand is longer!"
She stubbornly stretched out her arm. "Mine is long enough, thank you very much!"
He rolled his eyes and let her try first. She held the polaroid camera facing them with her out stretched hand. She snapped and it came out blurry because apparently, their faces were too close to the camera. He cocked his eyebrow, looking all smug at her. He put out his hand to take the camera off her, flicking his wrist urging her to pass him the camera. "Kitten?"
"Urgh. Fine! Only because you have longer hand than my hand! I swear one day I'll invent a stick longer than your hand then we'll see if your long hand will still be one useful hand or not!"
He laughed at her massive usage of the word "hand" in one sentence and pulled her closer to kiss her cheek then snapped.
That was how their first picture together looked like. She with her pouty lips and furrowed eyebrows snuck in his arm and him with his hand softly on top of her head while kissing her cheek with a smile on his lips. Since then they took lots of random pictures. Pictures of them together, of her alone, of him alone, of candids, of Crookshanks, of their cafe, of everything.
"Hello, beautiful. Mum is looking for you."
She turned and hugged the owner of the voice. "Charlie! When did you get here?"
Charlie kissed her forehead and wrapped his arm on her shoulder. "Last night. I just came back from the ministry, inviting everyone on mum's guest list."
"Everyone?"
"Everyone."
She dreaded the new information in. Everyone. Just what she needed after two years of hiding.
"Wow. I better check on your mum then. Lunch in the garden, I assume?"
"You assumed right, luv. Now go and get busy!"
Hermione kissed his cheek before she made her way to the cluttering kitchen and offered Molly her help. Amazing how Molly could manage all these by herself, alone. She sent her silent respect to the matriarch. She peeked on the big funny looking clock ーher brothers' face on itー on the wall to check the time. It was half an hour to noon. "Molly, it's almost lunch time. Shall we start with the table?"
Molly turned her head to face her surrogate daughter. "Of course, dear! You go do that. The guests are coming soon. Bill, Fleur and beautiful Victoire went to pick up Teddy first. They'll be here soon. Percy and Audrey running a bit late with baby James in tow and Molly, two kids to handle! I told Ginevra to send James off to me whenever she had to leave for her games, but she never listen! Poor Audrey!" She kissed the older Molly on both cheeks over her rant.
"I'm so glad that you've finally came home, dear. I'veー" She fished her dainty white handkerchief out of her beige apron's front pocket and patted off her tears. "ーWe've missed you so, so much! The kids told me you found yourself an extraordinary place, forgive Arthur and I for not visiting. We were just too busy with works and grandchildren! But don't you ever forget about us. Remember dear, you'll always have your home here, with us." Molly hugged her fiercely, worried she'd left them again after they finally got her back.
"I won't leave you again. I won't leave any of you again. I promise, Molly." Molly showered her face with sloppy kisses. She laughed at her second mother's antic. "So, do I have something special prepared just for me after all these two years?"
The older woman's eyes twinkled with pride as she dragged her by her lean hand towards the many pots on the stove. "Of course! I have acquired the recipe of your favourite meals, dear. Bouillabaisse, quiche Lorraine, and…" Molly took out a delicious looking juicy large roasting pan from the newly installed oven, filled with potato, capsicum, eggplant, garlic, and the king of all meat itself over them; the majestic lamb. "The main dish for today's lunch is my daughter's favourite French's cuisine: Gigot d'agneau pleureur!"
She was speechless. Molly cooked her all these French's cuisines that she knew Molly had no idea about before. She even pronounced all their names correctly! Her eyes glazed, touched by Molly's maternal treatment towards her, a young woman who had no blood relation with her at all.
"Mollyー" She stuttered and quickly embraced Molly before she saw her tears leaked out of her brown eyes. "ーThis isー you don'tー you don't have to do all these, Molly. Not to me, especially."
Molly shushed her and tightened her embrace, "I love you like my own daughter, dear. You deserved these and more. Everyone would argue if you said otherwise and you know darn well Fred would've agreed with me too, in this rare occasion." She chuckled at the mention of Fred, she could already imagine him winking at her clearly. She let out a grateful sigh.
"Yeah. That stupid boy would have agreed."
Molly let go of her daughter and cupped her heart-shaped face with her calloused old hands. "Now, now, dear. We don't want this saps outside the kitchen. You're finally home. Let's celebrate this happy day merrily, alright? Out you go!"
Molly kissed both her cheeks and practically shoved her out from the kitchen with cutleries stacked in her hands. She was going to walk out straight to the garden but she changed her mind and took a detour towards the living room, where Fred's portrait hung proudly above the fireplace.
His used to be forever dishevelled flaming-red hair, that she took as her personal mission to reprimand since forever, finally sat still on him in the unmoving portrait. His toothy grin was always infectious, never failed to bring out her smile like what it did to her now. His abundant freckles, eleven on his nose-bridge the last time she counted them, brighten his fair skin. His clear blue eyes that screamed mischief whenever she looked at them, but at the same time always mesmerizing. The portrait was perfect. He was perfect. She took a deep breath before she spoke her first word to him after two years.
"Frederick, you foolish boy." She paused, silently hoping for a reply but she only met a disappointing silence.
"My foolish boy." She continued oh so softly, almost like a whisper.
"I'm okay. Business doing great. Tiring but brilliant. Crookshanks still alive and kicking. I swear his face gets flatter each day it's adorable. Don't you worry your ginger head anymore. I'm okay now. I've moved on, Fred. I think I'm seeing someone way older than me; keywords: I think. To be honest, I'm not actually sure what are we, butー"
She replayed the moment she saw his mister sat on one of her café's small round table. He was drenching wet from the storm outside. She couldn't see his face as he was sitting with his back facing her. His wet shoulder-length black hair glued on his slender pale neck and she remembered how she chuckled at his effort to tie them up just to found out he lost his hair tie and cursed his bad luck. That was when she decided to make her existence known. So, she called out for him and he offered his help and that was the first time their eyes met. She smiled tenderly at the memory.
"ーbut, oh, he's an idiot, Fred. He's 38 years old and I'm almost 30! But Fred, he acts like a 16 years old boy who somehow just hit his puberty! He can be awkward, moronic, zealous, mad, brilliant, and he just has this magic that makes me feel like I'm a 16 years old girl myself! Does it make any sense, to you?" She chuckled and sigh slowly.
"Your family would like him. You would like him."
"Fred, know thatー" she cleared her throat. "ーyou'll always have a special spot in my heart no matter what, no matter when. And I love you, Fred. Always am." She transferred all the cutleries on to her left hand before she tip-toed and planted her right palm over his stretched grinning lips.
"Goodbye, Frederick."
"I'll take it from here!" George yelled at her from the garden once she stepped out of the house. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw George's toothy grin and it took her exactly a solid 57 seconds to remind herself that this was George. She felt a sharp pang but it wasn't as painful as before. Yes. She thought. I'm moving.
She took a leap.
"George!" she beamed at him and presented him an ear to ear smile, taking big steps so she could reach him faster. George shook his head at her childish attempt and jogged towards her.
"How's my French girl doing?" he took the stacked cutleries off her frail hands and kissed her top head.
She glowed. Sometimes she forgot she grew up in France for the most part of her life. "Je vais bien, merci beaucoup! Ça va? Ou est ta femme, George?"
"I have no idea what you're saying but fuck that was hot. Keep talking, luv. I'd leave Angie in a heartbeat just to listen to your rant." He winked and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.
She winked back. "I know. Come on, let's be done with this! I don't want a stress Molly on my tail!"
"You know who else on your tail?" George asked once he finished preparing his side of the walnut-wood long rectangular table that could fit twenty-six people.
"Who?"
"Viktor, Zacharias, Cormー"
"Okay, George. What are you getting at here?" She put down the last fork on her side of the table and walked to the lake where her other brothers at. George linked their arms together and walked with her.
"What I'm trying to say is, you look happy these days. Any bloke I need to hex?" He eerily sounded serious. She really contemplated to lie but she hated the idea of lying to her family. Plus, sooner or later they would find out too, wouldn't they?
"Well. I figured you already knew there's one from your last visit."
"Cor! Of course I knew there's a bloke! But the questione is, who? You never said anything about him. According to my trusty source, he's older than you by ten years?"
"By trusty source, you mean one called Anthony Goldstein, I suppose?"
His eyes bulged and he unlinked their arms at once. "An agent would never expose his fellow agent! Agent A.G. did a tremendous job at delivering important intelligence surreptitiously! Good lad, he was!" he tipped his imaginary beret and attracted the other two brothers of them into their conversation. She grunted. Of course Anthony would tell George! He'd been crushing on him since school years! She looped her arm around George's for strength.
"Well, he's my regular customer. My very first customer, incidentally. And we kind of get on, you know. We… we clicked." She blushed scarlet. Her three surrogate brothers stared at her like she had a third head or whatever weird thing sprouted out of her head.
Why does it called growing hair and not sprouting hair? They literally sprout out of the scalp. She mused. She came back from her moment of revelation only to see three gaped mouths.
"Clicked?" Ron said with pronounced distaste.
"Is he nice to you?" Charlie asked her politely, a contrast reaction of that Ron's. She nodded in affirmative to answer both questions.
"Does he pay for his drinks or does he expect you to give him free food or anything freely since you like him so much?" George sounded harsh but she knew his intentions were good. Her previous French boyfriend wasn't the nicest man out there so George, her sweet George, flew to France just to gave him one good jab and a memorable right hook on his lips that had did wondrous French things to her. She squeezed his arm.
"He doesn't take advantage on me, George. He helped me with the café most of the time too."
"Is he the one who keeps wearing Bill's clothes?" Ronald narrowed his eyes dubiously. She looked down at her feet and slowly nodded.
"Ilenthimyourboxerstoo."
Ron heard her mumbled something about boxer which he most dreaded to know but still he needed to know so he braced himself and asked, "I'm sorry, luv. Can you repeat that again but a tad louder and slower this time?"
She inhaled sharply and before exhaling she said in one breath, "I lent him your boxers too, Ronald!" Exhaled.
Her three brothers stunned for a moment then yelled at the same time.
"YOU WHAT?!"
"It's almost lunch time, kids!" He called out to both his godson and his wife. He hummed some French song that his kitten always played.
"Why French songs?" He asked from his book. Françoise Hardy's J'aurais Voulu engulfed the quiet night. She closed her cafe early today just so they could cook their dinner together which they had enjoyed half an hour ago. They were now sitting across each other on one of the rectangular table beside the window with their own glass of mocktail, relishing their alone time. Without lifting her head, she answered him plainly, "because I grew up in France."
He put down his book. "I didn't know that."
"Now you know." She shrugged with her nose still in the book. He narrowed his eyes at her nonchalant reply. He swiftly snatched her book from her and put it on top of his.
"Hey! I want to finish that!" She protested.
He shrugged back at her. "Let's talk about real person here instead ofー" he peeked at the title of her book "ーOprah. Wow, her teeth disturbingly too white."
She snatched her book back. "That's not nice! She's a strong woman!"
"I know, kitten. I was talking about her teeth. Merely her teeth. Not her person. Admit it, kitten. It is pretty disturbing how pearly white they are."
She glared at him before she examined Oprah: The Soul and Spirit of a Superstar's book cover which had Oprah's smiling face on it, showing a line of her straight shiny teeth, extra shiny teeth. She cringed. "I hate it when you're right."
She tossed her book at him. He laughed and caught it easily and put it down, back on to the book he was reading. He leaned forward and kissed the outer corner of her left eye before he rested his chin on his left hand, elbow on the table. "So, France?"
He noticed how her face lightened up at the mention of the country of love. "France was exquisite. Magnifique! I was born here in England but my family moved to France when I was 3 years old. To Lyon to be exact. Well, of course there's crime now and them. Pickpockets, hit and run your puppies, sneak out a book or two out of the city library (she blushed a tell tale of found guilty) Nevertheless, it was still unarguable a very beautiful city to me." She stared on the ceiling dreamily.
"I was a very smart child, as I've been told. I received an offer from one of this prestigious boarding school in Scotland. But I couldn't just leave my parents. Thankfully after discussions between my parents and the school's deputy headmistress, she offered us their other branch right there, in France. It was also a boarding school, but a lot closer to my family so I accepted their offer straightaway. At least I can see my parents on weekends. Oh, mister. It was just lovely! The school really shaped me in to becoming the woman I am today. You know how much I love my summer dresses, oui? Yeah it was because our uniform was this beautiful soft blue silk dress and it made me feel pretty!" She said adoringly. Her love of her old school and France in general could be felt in the air around them. He looked at her with a soft smile.
"Why don't we go to France, kitten?"
She snapped out of her reverie and met his eyes disbelievingly. "Excusez-moi?"
He could see the astonishment and hopeful glints in her brown eyes that he learnt to love so much. He leaned forward, looking at her straight in her eyes and caress her cheek gently with his right hand's knuckle.
"Voulez-vous aller en France avec moi?"
Her eyes widened and she smiled brilliantly it was magical. He wouldn't mind if it was the last thing he looked at before he gets killed or get pushed off a cliff or struck by lightning, he wouldn't mind at all. He would treasure the picturesque scene before him to his death, into the after world, into oblivion, he would forever treasure her smile in his mind and in his heart. He was so deep in thoughts he didn't realize when she feverishly climbed up the table to get across and hugged him fiercely, straddling him on his seat.
"I would love to!" She kissed both his cheeks, his forehead, his nose, his jaw and his cheeks again. She avoided his lips gingerly. She didn't want to fright him off. She pulled back but still straddling him and now their faces were only inches apart. Apart enough to adore each other's face. Her hands locked around his neck. His hands locked around her waist. Françoise Hardy's Only Friends surrounded them. They just smiled lovingly at each other. No words needed. Because at that dreamlike moment, they both knew there was something more than just friendship waiting for the right time to come.
And they silently agreed to wait.
"We're coming!" His godson yelled from the third floor. He felt his excitement for his godson again.
"You're just fourteen years older than me, you know. Stop calling us kids!"
He laughed at his godson and ruffled his already chaotic hair. "Don't touch my hair! Ginny has been fixing it for me for half an hour!"
"Kid, you know it's no use. You inherited it from your father. There's no saving it."
His godson scowled at him. "Well you tell that to a pregnant Ginny and we'll see if you could live without your bollocks!" He paled at that.
He listened to his godson's advice so well that when Ginny asked him to behave at lunch because she finally got their best friend to join them today after almost two years of convincing her, he nodded his promise vigorously, without complain.
"Okay it's 12:00 p.m. Sharp. Let's go!" She disapparated excitedly before their eyes, leaving her husband and her father-in-law in a hurry. He shrugged at Harry and put on his black trench coat on top of his simple white buttoned up shirt and apparated away, his godson beside him.
The duo apparated in front of the house, right on the designated apparition point and worried themselves when they saw Ginny ran across the apparition point to the disoriented tall house of her family. Ginny burst into her childhood house with obvious excitement shone on her freckled face and said his and hellos to the guests politely and thanked them for coming. Well, it was her pregnancy announcement party after all. She looked for her son, James, and found him bundled in Audrey's arm while she and Fleur basked under the big tree watching Teddy and Victoire playing hide and seek. Little Molly slept soundly on Fleur's lap. Contented to see her son safely tucked in his aunt's arms, she went to the kitchen to find her mother.
"Mum! Is she here yet?!" She embraced her mum lovingly. Molly kissed her on both cheeks and jerked her head to the garden.
"She's outside with your brothers. I heard them talking about a guy she's seeing." Her eyes twinkling.
"I know!" She was about to run out to find her best friend or more like her big sister when Angelina, her sister-in-law, dragged her to the living room and urged the pregnant woman to tell her what the surprise was. That got her distracted and they started their girl talks when they heard three voices chorused at the same time, loudly.
"YOU WHAT?!"
He was talking to Bill and Percy about his Gringotts' vault when they heard the shout. "What was that all about?"
Bill smiled knowingly. "Apparently, they couldn't accept it that our sister found herself a bloke."
"But Ginny's married?"
"Not Ginny. She's not our real sister but she better off be one. Both Percy and I are closer to her than to each other." Percy nodded his agreement and added, "she's smart and always helpful when I stumped on reports."
"See what I'm talking about? Percy would never ask my help, wouldn't you Perce?"
"You would just make fun of me!"
Bill laughed and turned to look at him when his eyes widened as realization dawn on him suddenly. "Oh! I forgot you just got back to the living two years ago! Well, you've never met her but you have heard of her. We talked about her in almost every get together and every Sundays lunch."
"Oh, you mean Harry's and Ron's best friend? The brain ofー"
He didn't get to finish his talk with Bill. The other three gingers came into the living room; Ron and George scowled with displeasure and walked faster towards Harry and Ginny. Charlie who walked slower, right behind them, beamed with amusement as he made his way to Bill, Percy, and him. "Big news, brothers. Our little girl got herself a boyfriend and she isn'tー no, no. She herself doesn't want to share him with us."
"You know how stubborn she can be. There's nothing we can do if she's not ready to tell us," said Percy in his as-a-matter-of-factly voice.
"Well, yeah. But our younger brothers doesn't share the very sentiment, you see. And that's fun to watch." Charlie grinned.
The four men watched as George went to the gossip queen herself, their beloved little sister, Ginny. Whereas Ron, went straight to his best friend, the one and only, Harry Potter, the Chosen One himself. Both parties were whispering and what could only be heard from the whispers were "her regular customer" and "my boxers!" And "must be as tall as Bill."
He was too distracted with their curiosity that he didn't notice Bill and Percy left their spots to greet the said woman.
"There she is, Harry! Put some bloody senses back into her never-stop-growing brain!" Ron said with mock horror and shakily pointed his finger to his other best friend.
"Honestly Ronald, sometimes I wonder how you managed to be the best strategist of your age with that inclined brain of yours!" She huffed, obviously exasperated.
His ears perked at the familiar voice from behind him. His heart started to beat faster. Too fast! He couldn't move even an inch. He froze. He stucked. His dark brown ankle boots' heels glued to The Burrow's wooden floor.
The only part of his anatomy that could be moved were his eyes and it was useless because he couldn't see what was going on behind him, could he now?! For the first time in his whole life he wished to have Moody's magical eye. He didn't care if his eyes swirled around wildly forever. He just wanted to see, wanted to confirm who was the owner of the melodic voice becauseー fuck because! He just needed to know and Merlin it killed him that he didn't have the courage to just fucking turn!
"It's so good to see you finally join our weekly lunch after two bloody years. It's been too long!" Harry hugged her with his bone-crushing strength. She squealed.
"Harry! Let her go! She's blue!" Ginny saved her from her near-death experienced only to give her that experience by her own seeker-strengthen strong arms.
"You have tons of explanation to do, big sis! Don't you ever leave and be a hermit again! I'll make sure of that! If you ever do that again, and mark my words woman, I'll hex you to oblivion and glued that round arse of yours on mine!" Ginny said fiercely and she knew better to not take the pregnant young woman's threat lightly.
"But you guys still see me now and then, yes? You even crash my place last night whining over mocktails!" Harry turned his head to her wife so fast she worried her best friend might have broken his neck.
"You went to her place for a pint?! Ginny, you're pregnant for Merlin's sake!" he yelled at his pregnant wife incredulously, other occupants forgotten.
"Stop being so dramatic, you two! It was mocktail not cocktail. You know I don't serve alcoholic beverages, Harry. So don't worry about it. But for now, please get your enthusiastic wife off me! I might die from my lack of oxygen before you could continue with your pregnancy dramas!" She put her hands in the air in effort to wriggled herself out of her little sister's deadly embrace.
A loud clinking sound of cluttered silverwares could be heard and everyone turned to the source of the noise. Molly stood there with both her hands covering her mouth, eyes pooled with tears, the silver tray abandoned on her feet and small sized treacle tarts sprawled on the floor.
"Pregnant?! Oh thank Merlin! My Ginevra is pregnant, again! Oh, Arthur! We're going to be grandparents!" Molly ran to her husband who was a step behind her, a tray of more treacle tarts on his hands, still stunned by the news. She took the tray from him and put it on the coffee table so they could hug.
"I'm going to be a grandpa! Again!" He announced with tears of happiness in his eyes. Both of them started hugging everyone in the room.
Well wishes to the pregnant woman erupted the small living room. Everyone was hugging Ginny, and clapping Harry on his back. After rounds of hugs and pleasenteries, most of the ministry's officers left the living room to the garden for lunch.
Ginny found her again amidst the chaos and forced her to join her girl talks with Angelina. The three girls were soon joined by Charlie, George, and Ron, and six of them stood in a circle, exchanging their latest news and gossips. Percy joined them with Audrey and Fleur following suit. The kids now went with their grandma Molly for lunch. James, her godson, now cuddled up in her arms, reminded her of Crookshanks. Molly rushed back into the living room and took James away from her.
"I'll take care of the kids. You just enjoy your day, dear."
She pouted but she didn't dare to argue with Molly. The matter of her mister fortunately slipped off her brothers' mind. Or so she thought.
"Harry, you should introduce her to your godfather. After all, they never actually met." Bill told Harry what he just realized a few minutes ago. Harry just realized it too.
"Wow. You're right. They've never met even after all those mayhems, they never actually met!" Harry searched for his godfather, thrilled to introduce the two most important people in his life to each other. He gleamed when he found him stood weirdly straight and tense, still glued to his spot from before despite all the hustles.
"Come here, big guy! I want to introduce you to the brain of the golden trio! Without her, Ron and I wouldn't even last a few days!" Harry practically dragged him. He still couldn't feel his numb legs. And when Harry stopped right behind that curly brunette hair which he knew too well, his heart started to miss a few beats, ー"it's called ectopic beats," his kitten once told him when they checked their blood pressure and pulse with that weird small machine that she brought home once after her monthly reunion with Anthony and the gangー and was now pounding, fluttering, beating irregularly that he could feel all those sensations in his throat and in his neck. He felt like dying. Like as if all the air in the room evaporated and he only left to his salvation, his life, his kitten,
his.
His godson was speaking. He saw his mouth moved, opening and closing at his words, but all he heard was a long buzzing sound overlapped with the sound of his hasty heart beats. He thought he was going to explode. He thought he was going to die. Prongs, mate, I'm coming. I died of explosion, of self-combustion, of embarrassment to finally see my kitten, the best way to die.
His thoughts were proven wrong and way off. That wasn't the best way to die. Because when Harry spun her petite body that he knew fitted his perfectly, to face them, he confessed,
this, Prongs. This is the best fucking way to die: the perfect moment when their eyes met; just like their first meeting.
That beautiful brown that he would know anywhere. That brilliant grey that she would know anywhere. Both of them were staring at each other and all of a sudden, everything around them faded away into some blur. The world around them ceased to exist.
"ーdidn't see her for two years! Let me finally introduce two of my favourite people to each other. Sirius, this is my sister in every ways but blood; Herー"
"Hermione Jean Granger. The brightest witch of her age." Sirius cut Harry off and held his hand out, palm open specially for her small fair hand. She accepted it.
"Sirius Orion Black the Third. The wizard who cheated death." Hermione put her hand on his palm and he squeezed her hand before he brought it to his lips and kissed her inner wrist right on her pulse vein with tender care.
Their eyes met again and both of them know what they see in them. It was something that they've agreed to wait for.
Love.