Cappuccino After Eleven
First of all, thank you for all the support you're giving me. I truly appreciate it to bits!
merendinoemiliano: Grazie!
Kristeen6teen: You bet they will!;) Not long until it happens now;) And thank you, I'm so happy you enjoy my version of them!
Casia: I keep dragging it out, but I swear they will kiss soon!;) Thank you for the sweet words!
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A long treat for all of you who were so sweet and kind in the reviews. 2400 words for you3
So, uhhh, angst ahead guys. This wasn't supposed to get this dark, but I just dug myself right into it. Oopsie!
Chapter Eighteen
Death and Inflatable Mattresses
They tried patching it up the next day.
It had taken quite some time to find where the air was leaking from the mattress. It had been in the seam, and then and there, Hermione knew that all hope was lost.
They had tried Reparo as well, but apparently, the spell didn't find anything wrong with the obviously ruined air mattress.
They decided to tape the hole with some difficulty, and then try it out for the night. An anxious nagging in the back of her mind kept reminding her that it was never going to work.
The thought was at the back of her mind when the whole group went for gelato.
It was lingering just behind her tongue when she lost a game of playing cards.
It was the tingling feeling of unease when they went grocery store shopping for wine and snacks, and when they all made pasta with her favorite pesto.
She tried to shake it off, but it was like a pest.
Finally, she blurted out to Harry, "Do you happen to have a spare mattress?"
They were walking in the back of the group up the main road through their Italian university town. Cho and Lavender were having a painfully high-pitched debate about influencers, while Neville and Ron in the front were talking in low, calmer tones. Probably about Quidditch.
He looked at her quizzically, then wiggled his brows, "You don't?"
"It broke,"
"It…" he wiggled his brows again suggestively, "broke?"
Hermione let out a deep sigh, slapping him on the shoulder. She moaned, "Harry,"
"Sorry," he apologized, then sobered up, "It broke? I don't have another one. I don't think the others have either. You must be the only one who thought of bringing one for guests,"
She groaned.
"Have you tried the repairing spell? The Reparo?" he asked.
"Yes," she let out a long breath, gesticulating wildly, "It didn't seem to find anything wrong with it!"
Harry let out a roaring laugh, slapping himself on the thigh in the process.
"I…" he said between wheezing laughs, "I just can't. That's way too funny,"
"It's not," she said flatly, stone faced.
"I don't think you understand. Even the spell decided to be your wingman, but you two still can't realize that you like each other,"
"Oh, shut up," she said. Secretly, though, she felt her chest blossom with heat.
He smiled knowingly.
"So, you and Cho?" Hermione said after a pause, hoping to redirect the attention from her to him.
His eyes flickered to her, and said in a quiet voice, "Yeah. She's amazing,"
"You two look good together." she smiled, "Have you talked together? About…"
He shushed her, afraid Cho would be listening in.
"No. Not yet, but…" Harry had this dreamy look in his eyes. They glinted, "We have kissed."
"Congratulations!" Hermione exclaimed happily, even though a pang jealousy gnawed through her.
She didn't want to be the one to kiss Ron first, but she sure as hell wanted to be kissed by him. Even though she was a bit afraid.
They kept walking, talking bits and pieces about Cho, and love, and at some point, Harry, seemingly unable to stop himself, blurted out.
"You know Lavender is Ron's ex, right?"
"Yeah, she told me."
Harry looked surprised, "Really?"
"Yes, she even…" Hermione flushed at the thought of the tips she'd given her.
"You don't have to tell me." he brushed her away, "I'm not even sure I want to know,"
This time, she were the one to let out a loud laugh. Afterwards, she blinked, realizing they had already arrived at the student apartments.
He grinned, "See you at the party then? At seven?"
"Surely," she winked back.
Her and Ron waved goodbye to their other friends, then he offered – more like refused not to – carry the heavy plastic bag with the wine bottles up to her apartment.
When they entered through her door, he was panting. She gave him an incredulous look, eyebrow raised, asking the silent question; 'are you sure you couldn't have used the help?', but all he did was laugh and brush it away.
Then he asked the dreaded question.
"What are we going to do about that?" he nodded in the direction of the punctured air mattress. It had lost a little air when they were gone, and looked like a slightly deflated wrinkled, bulbous mess.
Hermione sighed, "No idea. I was thinking we could inflate it again before we go to Harry's party and just hope it holds."
He laughed. It sent some strange association through her, like the sound of water trinkling down a waterfall, and birds playing. She almost laughed at the absurdity of it.
It took a moment before she registered that he had also said something.
"Maybe I could ask to sleep at the couch at Harry's." he said, and Hermione suddenly felt cold.
"Are you sure?" she asked, darkness settling, almost choking her, "After the party, I'm sure it's going to be filthy and full of chips."
"You're right, I should stay." he laughed, and her entire body felt light again. It was strange how such a little sound could change her whole outlook on things.
Hermione put on some music and made them both tea ("The American way?" Ron had joked with a horrified expression on his face. Hermione couldn't have helped the laugh that forced itself out of her throat at that.)
Then, they played some cards, with their queued songs blending together in the background.
After that, time went bizarrely fast, zooming past minutes in a flurry until it was already half past six. The party started in half an hour.
They were both lying on their backs on Hermione's bed, eyes drifted shut. The music still played calmly in the background, and she could hear the fall of Ron's chest every time he breathed beside her.
Hermione was also extremely aware of all the points Ron's body touched hers. Their legs almost intertwined at the bedpost. His almost hit the metal railing at the end of the mattress. Then, her hip brushed against his soft shirt.
Or, at least, it looked soft. It was not like Hermione had touched it. Yet.
At last, Ron had his arms crossed behind his neck, supporting his head. This caused her elbow to lay over his. Through the contact, she could feel his breath travel through his chest and arms. It made her giddy, as if his presence purely made her happy. Which was indeed true.
Her eyes traveled over his face, memorizing his freckles. His eyelashes were long and light. His eyes fluttered underneath, and he shook his head. A strand of red fell into his eyes.
Suddenly, he said, "Hermione?"
His voice was raspy from unuse. She had almost thought he was asleep.
He opened his eyes, and Hermione jumped back. She had been staring.
Ron propped himself up on his elbows and looked at her. She felt like a deer in headlights, but he just yawned, and she realized he didn't know that she had been intently watching him only moments before.
"Yeah?" she said, heart racing. She cleared her throat. It had come out raspy too.
His eyes were clouded with an emotion she hadn't seen in them before.
He swallowed, pulling his hair back from his face with his hand. She had learned it was something he did when he was nervous.
"Do you remember the Battle of Hogwarts, maybe from the news? The last one in The Wizarding War?" he asked quietly.
She laughed nervously. It came out all wrong, no humor, just sound.
"Yeah," she replied, voice dry like sandpaper. She wanted to add 'How could I forget? It was last year.' but her throat wound itself together tightly.
It must be about his brother, then. Or Harry and him.
She hung on tightly around the hope that Ron hadn't been there at the Battle. It wasn't something the Hogwarts group ever talked about, and Hermione had held her tongue, knowing it must be a taxing topic to talk about when surely some of their friends had been lost in the war.
It had never come up in conversation. Until now, that was.
"As you probably know, it demolished our whole school. And, uhh, Voldemort was there." He continued.
She let Ron take his time. Her eyes flickered between him, and the soft corner of the pillow she was wringing around in her hands. It would surely get wrinkly after her messing with it. She let it go.
"Yes?" she prompted after he had been silent for a while.
She was afraid of what he had to say.
A grateful look washed over his face, and the color she hadn't realized he'd been missing, returned.
"I just wanted to tell you that we were all there. Not Cho. But the rest of us. Neville was the one that killed the snake." He said.
"It must have been horrible there that day. But he was also very brave."
His eyes glinted, and a shadow washed over his face again. His ears flushed.
"Harry could have died. Voldemort tried to kill him. I think none of us felt very brave." he said.
"You could have died." she retorted, then added, "I'm happy you didn't. Any of you."
He smiled. It was a dead smile, but a smile, nonetheless.
"How are you holding up with it? It must have been a terrible experience."
"Fine," he said quickly, "But what I wanted to tell you…"
Silence washed over them.
A thought struck her: It wasn't long until the party started.
It was a terrible thought to have when her best friend was finally admitting something that was very difficult for him.
"The Death Eaters first showed up at my house. Me and my family's house."
A shiver ran down her spine. She knew where this was going.
Memories flashed before her eyes.
Ron faltering whenever his brothers were mentioned.
Bittersweet retellings of the twins' adventures.
The sadness on his face when someone talked about their happy family.
He continued in a raspy voice. His eyes were focused on something else, not entirely in the room with her, but somewhere darker. A lot darker.
"They set fire to it all. Everything burned, even the fields around it. Harry and I barely escaped."
He paused to breathe.
"Everyone seemed fine at first. It wasn't until later we realized…" his throat closed up and he tried again, "We realized that Fred was hit. He had kept it a secret, and apparently the spell didn't work right away. He –"
She put a hand on his shoulder. His hand found hers where it rested. His skin was warm and soft, unaltered by the warring emotions in his face.
"We arrived at Hogwarts. It was supposed to be a safe place, but it was getting torn to pieces in front of our eyes. We didn't know anything. It was chaos. There were Death Eaters and students everywhere. Then, there was an explosion."
Hermione squeezed his shoulder, then took his hand in both of hers.
"It happened in a corridor I had walked a thousand times before. Just by where we had Potions. And that's where Fred…" he trailed off.
She could see the tears gathering in his eyes.
"It's a year ago on Tuesday," he admitted.
It felt like someone dropped a rock into her stomach. She wanted to puke.
Her own vision blurred, and she leaned forward and embraced him in a strong hug.
"I'm so, so sorry that happened." she croaked out, then pulled him away to look him in the eyes, "You're the strongest person I know."
His easy face returned, and he moved his thumb over her cheek. She looked down and embarrassingly realized that it was her tear, not his.
"Oh, gosh." she said, embarrassment painting her face red.
He chuckled at her, "You're the only person I know that could do that."
They both laughed hard at that, still half-embracing each other.
His eyes shifted to look at the digital clock on her nightstand.
"Bloody hell!" he exclaimed, cursing, "We're late!"
"Oopsie," Hermione said, as if she hadn't already known.
"My fault," he said sincerely, a frown on his face.
She hit his shoulder, "Not a problem."
They quickly gathered the wine and changed clothes. It was a bit awkward. Hermione went to change in the bathroom first, and then they switched. While he went and changed, she put on a little makeup and fixed her hair.
He came back. The blue sweater he wore brought out the vibrant sky blue of his eyes.
He stole her breath for a moment.
They put on their jackets and shoes and walked to the apartment door.
Her hand hovered over the door handle. For split second, she considered backing out, but then she spluttered out, "Thank you for telling me about your brother. I think it's really brave of you."
Then, before he could reply, she opened the door and stepped out.
The air was cold in her face. Mist drifted in the wind, causing her to shiver and pull her jacket tighter around herself.
He stepped after her. She turned to watch Ron close the door behind him. His cheeks were flushed just as red as hers.
"Let's go?" she asked lightly.
"How do you say that in Italian, again?" Ron asked, brows furrowed.
"Andiamo."
"Andiamo, then, darling." he repeated, and his hand found hers.
Ease flitted over his face, and she flushed.
Darling, her mind whispered to her, He called you darling.
A/N: SO, what did you think about today's chapter? Was his confession to your liking? I altered the story of Fred's death a little just to make it hurt – this is an AU after all! Why have an AU when you can't make your characters hurt? (Insert evil laugh here)