Cappuccino After Eleven
I can assure you, this fic is not over yet, despite the long delay. This sounds kind of funny, but I haven't been able to write because my Office license expired hahaha. I had a lot of work to do, so I never had the energy to get it fixed (there's been A LOT of stuff happening recently/the last month, including Christmas holidays, parties, a week-long visit to one of my best friends who moved, and lots of sports, etc.)
merendinoemiliano: thank you! You're putting new, wonderful scenarios into my head that may or may not happen, based on where the story takes us
Kristeen6teen: thank you so much! Here comes a tiny bit more of Hermione's backstory as well, but we'll delve deeper into all that later too;)
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Chapter Twenty
The Aftermath of Draco Malfoy
Hermione had been inextinguishably furious, but the moment Draco Malfoy's belongings had hit the tarmac below, all her fury had dropped to the bottom of her stomach as cold dread.
Immediately, she thought her friends would be disgusted with her behavior, calling her out for having no emotional control whatsoever. Calling her a temperamental child. Or something else that she definitely deserved to hear.
At least something negative.
But, although a bit pale from her outburst, they had all guided her back into their ring of hugs, hands clasped loosely around her shoulders, kind words at their lips.
"I can't believe Malfoy did that," Lavender hissed, still swaying on her feet from the drinks, "There are certain lines one should not cross. Kissing someone like that should be a death offence."
Hermione almost laughed at the worried glance Harry sent Lavender from the corner of his eye. He held his hand around Cho's waist, whose face softened whenever someone brought up the horrific kiss Draco Malfoy had forced on Hermione.
Ron gave her a glass of water, and when everyone's attention waned from her, he brought his face close and opened his mouth to her ear. She sipped out of the water, a little scared but also a little excited at how close he was to her.
"Are you sure you're alright?" he asked her, half whispering, half talking. The bass of the music had started playing again, and it masked his words from the rest of the group.
Hermione's hands shook around the glass, and she decided to opt for the truth.
"I am a bit shaken, to be honest. He scared me a bit, and I just hope he never returns for revenge for throwing out his belongings like that," she muttered, a bit ashamedly.
"He won't." Ron said with confidence. The freckles that peppered his cheeks shortly disappeared in a flush of red, "He's scared of getting into trouble. We're in Italy now, and that's outside his father's jurisdiction for sure. He can't help him here."
Hermione cocked her head to look him in the eye.
Ron trailed off, "…I hope."
She took a shuddering breath, "There –" she coughed, "There used to be some people at school back in Ilvermorny. And that vile Draco Malfoy reminded me of them. It brought back some bad memories when he did what he did."
Ron's eyes widened, and the party lights swept over them, turning his face bright blue for one second, then plunging it into darkness in the next.
"I'm sorry. Nobody deserves to have people treat them badly, and least of all, you. I can't understand why someone wouldn't want to be friends with you at all." He said, and after a moment's thought, added, "I hope you have it better here with us."
Hell, yes! she thought automatically, once again catching herself cursing. Like a sailor, she inwardly added to herself. Like Ron, really.
At his words, a huge weight lifted off her shoulders. She had, in some way, admitted to her horrible experiences back at school in Ilvermorny, back in Arizona. And she had been faced with no judgment at all.
Even though she had dreaded telling anybody, anyone at all, about the horrible people from before, it hadn't felt so terrible. It was as if she had thought it made her less of a person, as though it made her less, admitting that someone had treated her as such.
Ron had cleared his throat and worded himself kindly.
She felt lucky to have someone who would put themselves in her shoes. He seemed to understand, and when he didn't, he genuinely tried to.
As Hermione and Ron continued talking, the party continued on around them. The noises from the music, and from the talking, and from the silly challenges they did, all created a blanket of privacy around them. Nobody heard what they were saying to each other. Although, at this point, Hermione didn't mind.
At some point, Lavender looped her arm around Hermione's and brought her and Ron to the beer pong table. It was overrun with liquid, beer dripping down onto the floor from one corner.
"You're with me," she stated and poured a red drink into their team's blue plastic cups.
"Sure," Hermione grinned back, throwing back the rest of the water Ron had given her.
On the other side of the table, Harry and Ron were playfighting over which liquor to use in their cups. Ron was reaching for a long, slim-necked black bottle of something, while Harry, leaning with his entire body on top of Ron's, almost had his fingers around a six-pack of beers.
In the end, Harry slipped on the wet floor, causing them both to end up in a heap on top of each other. When they rose, Hermione could see how the entire front of Ron's shirt was soaked in whatever liquid had mixed together on the floor.
In retaliation, he dipped his fingers in one of the cups and splashed it towards Harry, who then had to clean his glasses.
"Are you boys finished?" Lavender asked, taking a long swallow of her drink, and almost stumbled when the bottom of her cup reached the top.
"Yeah!" they both straightened at the end of the beer pong table, shooting each other evil grins.
It looked kind of sweet, how they complimented each other so fully.
For once in her life, Hermione didn't feel her chest open up into a black hole. For a second, nothing felt like it was missing. There was no bottomless hole in her chest, no deep longing for what Harry and Ron had, no desire that felt like it would never be fulfilled, no empty space opening into her heart like a swallowing cliff.
She realized, then and there, that her desire to belong had been fulfilled. Her people, the ones that loved her for nothing, and the ones that cared for her as friends, they were all in this room.
It was Ron and Harry on the other side of the table, both teasing each other. It was Neville and Cho, once again engaged in conversation at the couch. It was Lavender, gazing at her with a knowing gaze, mouth curving into a smile.
Somehow, it was also Pansy, who had wound up lounging in one of the thick-backed chairs near the couch. She sulked, not wanting to engage into any kind of social interaction with the others, but Hermione could see the way she looked at them. If given a little time, she would ease out of her shell. Maybe even have some fun.
Hermione really hoped that Pansy would drop Draco Malfoy altogether after tonight.
The ping pong ball hopped over the table, abruptly cutting off Harry and Ron's cheers when it missed the cups and ended up under the couch instead.
"Trick shot for you if you get it back out!" Hermione exclaimed at the boys, resulting in them scrambling on all fours beneath the couch to fish it out.
Lavender swayed beside her and gripped her shoulder. A second too late, Hermione realized it wasn't for support.
Lavender smirked.
"So," she said, looking back at the boys under the couch, "Hmmm."
"So?" Hermione echoed.
"Do you remember that one party, when we walked back home together afterwards?"
She cringed, "When you gave me some advice, huh?"
About Ron, went unsaid.
"Yes, exactly," Lavender murmured in her ear, looking over at the boys, where Ron had just got his hands on a wet ping pong ball covered in dust, "I just realized I didn't actually have to tell you how to get him. You seem to be doing very fine on your own."
All her blood went to her cheeks. All of Hermione's face burnt.
"I'm serious. Do you not see the way his face lights up every time he does something that pleases you?" Lavender purred.
As if on cue, Hermione's eyes snapped to Ron's, who immediately grinned, eyes bright, and, as he looked up at her from the floor, a lock of red hair fell into his eyes.
"Really?" her voice came out tiny and strangled.
Lavender scoffed, as if she were stupid.
Then, Harry and Ron returned to the table, and this time it was Harry who held the nasty ping pong ball covered in liquor and dust.
"If you think we're going to drink out of a cup which that disgusting ball has been in, you'll need to think again. Go wash it in the sink." Lavender ordered, winking at Hermione.
She let out a laugh at the boys' mischievous expressions.
Lavender leaned closer to her, and Hermione almost had the urge to back away from her predatory gaze.
"Did you not think Harry also offered to have Ron in his room? Did you not think Neville had enough space in his apartment?" Lavender's eyes glinted as she leaned closer, jabbing a finger playfully into Hermione's chest, "No, he chose you."
Hermione's heart skipped a beat.
He had chosen her.
Lavender raised her brows, smiling as though she had just found out a secret. Then, she stepped back, refilled her cup, and drowned it in one go.
Hermione's mind was reeling with Lavender's words.
'… he chose you.'
Ron Weasley had chosen not to share a room with Harry, his best friend since childhood and famous war hero. He had chosen not to sleep at Neville's, the Neville Longbottom who had killed Voldemort's snake and thus contributed to ending the war.
No, Ron Weasley had chosen to be with her.
To be with poor little Hermione Granger that hadn't seemed to get any friends at Ilvermorny except for the resident lunatic Lovegood, despite her best of trying. Italy had truly changed her. That must be it. The reason for Ron choosing her over Harry or Neville, or anybody else.
Because Ron Weasley had chosen to go home with her.
To go back home with Hermione Granger – and their broken air mattress and single bed.
A/N: I simply can't wait to write the next chapter. Things are going to get interesting then;) And that's my promise to you;) Please leave a review and tell me what you think so far. Do you like the writing style, the characterization, the plot? Do you dislike the writing style, characterization, or plot? You know what to do, write me in the reviews!