Cappuccino After Eleven
Sorry for the long hiatus, a lot of things have happened. I was traveling and all my shit got stolen, so that wasn't very fun. I'm home now, but I'm still working on replacing everything that is gone. Luckily, today I got to write this chapter for you darlings. I hope you still like it. And PS: feel free to leave a little comment in the review section. They motivate me a lot to write, and you'll get the next chapter faster for sure.
Also, for the sake of this chapter, let's pretend the exam season in (northern) Italy is in December, not in January/February as it was in my university.
Chapter Sixteen
Cold December (Something to Warm You Up)
Two months later
Ron's train had arrived late at the train station, only a couple minutes past five. Those few minutes, however, before it finally glided over the tracks and haltingly stopped, felt to Hermione as if they were precious moments stolen from her.
She was nervous and excited, and she could see it in the faces of the others, too. The delay had felt like an eternity, long-drawn minutes that made her heart jump faster and harder.
They had all been waiting there for him – Neville, Lavender, Cho, Harry, and her.
It was cold, and the humidity in the air seeped through her thick jacket, tenacious as oil.
She looked over at the others, huddled together.
Harry squeezed Cho's hand and the color pooled both their cheeks. They liked each other for sure, and everyone else saw it but them.
Neville constantly shifted his stance, brushing his hands down his pants, then running them through his hair.
Lavender stood stoic and elegant as ever, her eyes sparkling, and her hair held up by purple rhinestone hair clips. She didn't even look cold.
Hermione patted down her hair, brushing it over her ears so that they would get too cold.
When the others looked away, Hermione tried to inconspicuously smell her own breath. Instead, she got a rather awkward eye contact with Neville as she did. He turned around, skittish again, and she wasn't quite sure whether he had seen it or not.
She saw the train in the distance and felt the shift of anticipation in her group.
Her breath came out short in her chest and created small puffs in the December air.
For being Italy, she would have expected it to be warmer during this time of year. She had heard from all the northern Europeans, like Harry and Ron, that the south was a nice place in winter. However, coming from Arizona herself, she found it rather chilly.
The train rolled in on the tracks with heavy ba-bumps.
Her heart jumped in her chest. She felt a pang of nervousness at the thought of seeing Ron again. Of having him stay in her flat. Just him and her. Alone for exams. Together for a week.
It halted to a stop with a thunderous shriek that seemed to pierce through her bones. She suddenly felt colder, her fingers stiff and sweaty.
What if her connection with Ron was gone? Would the reunion be awkward?
Would she have to limp through conversation with him, as if they were strangers again?
No, she shook her head. It couldn't be, because they had kept in touch with small notes back and forth as paper birds and owls. There was no way they were suddenly back to being only strangers to each other. And the others didn't even look that nervous.
The doors opened and people welled out of the train. Hermione's eyes darted between heads and hats and flickering glances and suitcases.
Out of a sudden, she found him.
Red hair glinting out from under a dark green woolen hat. Blue eyes searching the crowds, looking like he was lost. A lock of hair – it had grown since the last time she saw him – had fallen over his nose.
He wore a grey scarf and a black worn cloak, along with a duffel bag loosely slung over his shoulder.
His brows furrowed and Hermione raised an arm to wave.
She saw him scan the crowds, inching, slowly inching, closer to them. To her.
And then, his face instantly exploded into the brightest smile. He had noticed her in the crowds and waved back. Hermione wished that all the other people in the station would go away.
He found a trail between other passengers and Hermione did the same. Suddenly, she stood there, face to face with Ron Weasley, her windowsill stranger. It was magical. It felt like the time she had slipped a couple of coins into his hand at the café, all over again.
Her heart raced.
"Hi," she said, everyone else blurring around her. Ron looked dashingly youthful and bright, so unlike how he had been when he'd left.
Instead of replying, Ron came up to her and embraced her in a warm hug.
His sweater smelled of fire, like he had been tending to a fireplace with it on. She pressed herself into him.
"I missed you," she mumbled into his sweater.
"I missed you too," he said into her hair.
They stood like this, and the moment stretched. She could feel the fibers of the wool under her fingers, and his back underneath it. She could feel his arms around her back.
They let go of each other and Hermione smiled at him, feeling the warmth well back into her. She didn't feel so clammy anymore.
"Let's go see the others," she said softly.
He nodded and grabbed her hand.
The pulse spiked so hard it caught her breath.
"Show the way, Tea Girl," he joked.
They caught up with everyone else, and Hermione watched with nausea as Lavender stepped forward gracefully to hug Ron first. Then Ron hugged Cho, Neville, and lastly walked up to Harry.
"I've missed you, man," Harry said, voice tight with emotion.
"Hogwarts is not the same without you," Ron said back, voice wavering.
Then they clashed together in a big hug, and Hermione could finally truly see that they were best friends.
After exchanging a couple pleasantries back and forth, the group decided to leave the station. Harry, with the assistance of Cho the Planner, had booked a table at their favorite pizzeria for the evening. Before meeting there at six, however, there was time for Ron to leave his stuff where he was staying.
Where they were staying, Hermione corrected nervously in her head.
She showed the way, and he followed all the way to her door.
Before she pushed it open, she said, "I hope you don't have high expectations, because there's not that much room,"
He chuckled, "As long as I'm not sleeping on the street, I'm more than happy enough,"
Although he had been there before, she showed him around, "Here's the kitchen, bathroom, and over here is my room. Over there," she pointed at the giant do-not-enter sign, "is Pansy's room, my flat mate."
"She has quite the decoration on her door," Ron pondered, looking at the big-worded sign.
Hermione laughed, "It doesn't look like she has good experience with previous flat mates, to put it that way,"
He crossed himself, making Hermione laugh even harder.
They entered her bedroom, and she was very happy at how clean it looked. From Ron's facial expression, she could tell he was pleasantly surprised.
"You can place your bag anywhere you want," she gestured to the floor.
He placed it softly down in the corner of the room and looked around.
"It looks like you're just a teeny tiny bit better at cleaning than me and Harry," he noted.
She bent down and pushed a small bag forward from underneath the bed.
Smirking, she sent him a look, "Only a teeny tiny bit?"
He lifted his shoulder, "Just sliiiightly better, I'd say," he said jokingly. She remembered finding a bottle opener underneath the couch weeks after Harry and Ron had both reported it missing.
"Sure," she grimaced laughingly, then zipped open the bag from underneath her bed, "I was thinking you could get the bed, and I could sleep on this air mattress that I got,"
He shook his head, "No, let me take the air mattress. Come on, you're the one being so nice letting me stay over,"
"It's really comfortable, I promise. I'll take it," she insisted.
They stared at each other for a moment, trying to get the other to back down.
Finally, Ron crumbled underneath her gaze.
"Fine," he said in defeat, "But, we'll switch. I'll take the bed the first night, and then you take it the next,"
"It's a deal," she said, "But only if you make me tea the British way,"
"Of course, I'll do that, darling," he said, his British accent ten times thicker just for the fun of it.
She started laughing, but suddenly his head perked up as if he suddenly remembered something.
"Oh, hold on!" he said, lifting a hand up in concentration, before he suddenly opened his duffel bag and started rummaging through it.
"A-ha!" he exclaimed, then pulled out a little packet wrapped in grey gift paper.
Something inside her melted into happy goo.
"Here. It's for you," he handed it to her.
The gift was messily wrapped, and the paper was crinkled from the journey. She accepted it, noting that whatever was inside was very soft.
"It's a gift for letting me stay with you. I really appreciate it," he explained.
"Oh, you didn't have to," she said, "But it's very sweet of you,"
For a moment they just looked at each other.
"Come on, open it," he nudged her.
She sat down on the bed, and he sat beside her. He ran a hand through his hair and smiled sheepishly, "I'm sorry for the messy wrapping. My brother kept nagging me for doing it wrong, but I didn't really want him to do it either,"
She blushed slightly, then looked at him, "A messy wrapping is still a wrapping, right?"
He smiled his bright smile again, one sharper tooth pointing more out than the other, "Sure is," he said.
The grey paper was thin and tore away easily. Underneath was a small bundle of knitted wool. She carefully lifted it out of the package, and she now saw that it was a knitted cap.
It was burgundy with a golden pattern and made out of very soft wool. Somewhere along the edge, in tiny yellow thread, it spelled out the letter H.
Hermione lost her breath.
Ron looked at her worriedly, "I –"
"Thank you so, so much," she breathed out, sweeping him in for a hug, "It looks so nice,"
He chuckled in her ear as she let him go.
"Here," he said, searching for permission. Then he took the hat and pulled it down over her ears, "It looks good on you,"
His eyes sparkled, and Hermione had to look away from his brilliant face to regain control of her body. Even her skeleton felt like jelly.
"Thank you, again," she said, then turned it around in her hands, "Is it home made?"
He smiled his brilliant smile again, "Yes. My mother always makes them for us each year. She made this one for you,"
So, he must have told his family about her, then, she mused. That was a good sign.
Drrrring!
Out of a sudden, the doorbell rang, and both of them jumped at the abrupt sound.
"Oh, shit," Ron cursed, "It must be Harry. The time's already six,"
"Oh, shit," Hermione echoed.
They put on their shoes and jackets quickly, and Hermione hasted together her water bottle, money, and keys into a reusable bag.
"Okay," she sighed, "I'm ready,"
He held the door for her, "Ready for pizza?"
She smirked, "I was born ready,"
A/N: And THAT concludes chapter sixteen. I hope you enjoyed it, and that the longer chapter makes up for it being late. Please do leave a review below – I appreciate every word to bits! I also changed the story summary, and I'd love to hear if you have any ideas to make it better, or whether you like the new one or the old one the best. So, one, two, or three pennies for your thoughts?