The Christmas Date: Chapter Three *NEW!*
The Christmas Date
by: Mena yourlaughter
fandom: Harry Potter
genre: Romance
characters: Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Luna Lovegood, Neville Longbottom, Harry Potter, Ginny Weasley
originally written: January 16th, 2008
Summary: They met by chance on that cold Christmas Eve, and after that they promised they’d meet up at that same place every year, no matter what. But is it really appropriate to meet up for a date when Hermione is dating someone else and Ron is getting married?
The Christmas Date
Chapter Three: The Tradition
Hermione walked out of The Little Black Book Publishing Co. with a spring in her step. She hadn’t even gone three feet away from the building before squealing in delight and dancing on the sidewalk, startling some passersby. But she didn’t care; her book was going to get published. Her book was going to get published! She couldn’t wait to call Luna and tell her the good news.
Hermione glanced at her watch for a moment, her free hand reaching for her mobile, before she stopped herself and sighed. It was 8:00. Luna may be a strange one, but she loved her sleep; she always went to bed by at least 7:19 at night. Not 7, not 7:30, but 7:19. Oh, the mind of Luna Lovegood…
Hermione smiled and shook her head, adjusting the tote bag she was carrying on her shoulder. As she turned to head home her eyes caught sight of the coffee shop across the street. She frowned, gazing at the many Christmas lights that lined the roof and the Christmas tree that was easily seen through the front window. Hermione always passed by this shop and in the back of her mind she thought it was charming and quaint; quite original and small, yet stood out. But she never stopped in. At least, not until last Christmas Eve.
I guess it’s called Lady Luck for a good reason, Hermione thought to herself, the edges of her mouth tipping up into a sad smile and giving the coffee shop one last look. She was about to take off until destiny intervened once more.
Hermione’s heart stopped for a split second before speeding up so quickly she thought it was going to burst out of her chest. There, that man with the ginger hair… It can’t be him, can it?
Well, of course it can, Hermione thought bitterly. He did say that he visited the shop everyday; had a cup of coffee or tea or whatever and then went about his business. This shop obviously meant a lot to him, so of course he’d still go even after a year’s time had passed. But for him to be there at the exact same time she was? Coincidence? Or is Luck being a Lady tonight?
Hermione never had any regrets in her life. She always thought that everything happened for a reason and she should just accept it; whatever it may be. Any choices she made, she knew were for a reason; she knew that they were the best ones for her in the long run, even if she didn’t think so at the time.
Yet that night last Christmas Eve, when she met that handsome man with the ginger hair and the crooked smile and the eyes that were bluer than the bluest sapphire, she knew she made a mistake, and even after all this time, she regretted it.
She knew she should’ve told him her name, at least. That’s all he wanted, really, but she turned away; curled up in her shell and pretended that his smile didn’t make her leg twitch. That his piercing stare didn’t make her mouth dry so quickly that she had to take a long gulp of water. That his whole damn demeanor didn’t make her want him.
After that night, after running away from him and trying to hail a taxi, the packages in her arms weighing down on her arms, she knew that the decision to not give him any information would haunt her. And she was right. Every pair of blue eyes she saw were dull and boring compared to Ron’s. Every ginger-haired man she passed by would make her do a double take. Every maroon jumper or coat or anything would make her breath catch and her face fall.
Frankly, she was going insane over it.
Honestly, the one decision I make about a guy and it drives me mad! The only one!
She tried to hard to forget him. It was only one night, for Pete’s sake! One night, one drink, that’s it. So why was it so hard to drive him from her mind?
Maybe it was that final stare he fixed her with before she bolted; that final look when he said he wanted to see her again. It almost turned her legs into putty. It was such a passionate gaze, and only after one night!
I guess that’s what I’m missing from my life: passion. And I turned away from the one man who could give it to me.
Hermione huffed. Oh, please, I have passion in my life! I don’t need a man to have passion.
So then why does she absent-mindedly look for that guy almost every day?
The man with ginger hair stood up from his table at the coffee shop, throwing a few notes down to pay for his drink. At that moment, Hermione decided to bugger the consequences.
She grabbed her tote’s strap and purposefully marched over to the man, her eyes never leaving her destination. After crossing the street, she reached the man, who was now taking a last drink from his tea, and tapped him on the shoulder, hoping against all hope that it really was him.
He choked, sending some of the tea that was still in his mouth across the table. Whirling around on the spot, the man looked like he was going to yell at her, but then their eyes locked. Hermione’s breath caught; it was him. It really was him. She almost couldn’t believe it. She wanted to reach out and touch his face, just to make sure she wasn’t hallucinating or even dreaming. Instead, she beamed at him.
“Whoa,” Hermione said, suddenly remembering what he said the first time they met. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”
Ron, instead of responding, harshly put his empty teacup on the table, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. Hermione couldn’t stop smiling at him.
“I heard this place was good,” she said with a teasing tone, looking around at the many tables outside of the shop. “Recommendations?”
“Er… Uh - the water?” he said, looking a little confused. Hermione giggled in her hand, and she noticed that Ron began to smile.
She didn’t want to mess this up again. Not this time. So, it was time to take things slow, and hope that they will gradually turn into something… better. Hermione stuck out her hand for Ron to shake. He looked confused once more before she elaborated. “I’m Hermione by the way.”
Ron then smiled wider, taking her outstretched hand and shaking it smoothly. He opened his mouth to say something, but Hermione, fearing that he might make fun of her name, beat him to it.
“I know Hermione is an odd name, but if you make fun of it I will have to take drastic measures in hurting you,” she said quickly, pulling her hand back and running it through her mass of bushy hair. Ron just stared at her, head cocked to the side and that maddeningly adorable grin on his face.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
________________________________________________________
“Um…” Ron sputtered, fishing around his brain for something, anything interesting to say. “Erm… D’you - d’you wanna sit?” He gestured to the table.
“Oh, but it looks like you’re leaving -“
“I’m not leaving!” Ron said quickly, blushing slightly at his outburst. Man, definitely a hormonal teenager. “I mean, yes, I was going to leave, but now that you’re here -“ Ron stopped, staring at her.
A confused smile appeared on Hermione’s face. “What?”
“Nothing. Just -“ He cleared his throat. God, he was so bad at this. “Are you hungry?”
“Huh?”
“Hungry. Are you? ‘Cause I’m starving and there’s nothing here that’ll fill me up. All scones and baked goods and all.”
Ron saw her back steel up, as if ready to bolt again. She was still uncomfortable with him. Ron frowned. Why?
“Oh, well… I mean, it’s pretty late, and I just wanted to pop over and say hello, so…”
Ron panicked. No! She needs to stay. I only got her name, not even her surname. I can’t lose her again.
“Just a quick bite. I promise,” he said quickly, looking at his watch. “Plus, it’s not really that late, is it?”
Hermione checked her watch as well, still frowning. “Well, I have to wake up early for inventory…”
“Hermione…” he trailed off, staring at her. “Have dinner with me. A simple, normal dinner. Your pick.”
She just stared at him, not answering. She cocked her head to the side and suddenly looked like she was going to cry.
“I shouldn’t have come…” She turned to leave.
“Whoa!” Ron grabbed her arm before she turned. “What’s going on? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, nothing’s wrong. I’m fine. I just have to go home.”
“Hermione, please…”
“It was nice to see you again.” She gently pulled her arm out of his grasp, and Ron, too stunned to react, let her.
She was halfway down the street before Ron’s brain kicked back on. He sprinted to her retreating figure, spinning around so he was standing in front of her, blocking her way. Hermione frowned.
“Really, I should be getting -“
“Hermione, I haven’t seen you in a year, and during that year all I’ve thought about was you, and frankly, it’s been driving me mad.”
Hermione inhaled through her nose sharply, her eyes wide. Ron continued.
“I kicked myself everyday for not getting your name, or anything about you. You left an impression on me.” Ron grimaced at his choice of words, but Hermione didn’t seem to mind. She was still staring wide-eyed at him. Ron took a deep breath.
“I need to know you more. I need to. Whatever’s wrong; whatever’s making you afraid to take a chance with me, please, just ignore it. At least for tonight. At lease go out to dinner with me and forget everything. Just let go.”
Hermione’s grip on her tote bag looked almost painful; her knuckles were white, but she didn’t relinquish. She finally broke eye contact and looked at the ground, the building next to them, the cars driving by; but never at Ron. He waited patiently. Best not to spook her.
She looked like she was having a battle in her mind. Ron wished he knew what she was thinking. He was about to ask her but she finally spoke.
“Okay.”
Ron wasn’t sure he heard her right. “Wh-what?”
“Okay.”
Ron exhaled loudly, his crooked smile coming back. He ran his fingers through his hair and made a move to carry her tote bag for her. Her grip tightened and he pulled back, but she took a deep breath and gave it over to him. He smiled wider.
“Right,” he said, slinging it over his own shoulder and giving Hermione a sidelong glance. Her fingers were shaking. “I know the perfect place.”
He led her a few feet before she stopped and gave Ron a stern look. “I thought you said I got to pick where we were going to eat?”
Ron smirked. “I did.”
“Well then,” she said, pulling her coat closer to her body, running her fingers through her wild hair to get rid of the snow flurries that were embedded in the tresses. “I know the perfect place.”
________________________________________________________
“Luna, where do these boxes go?”
Neville and Luna were found at the bookshop, Neville lugging heavy book-filled boxes and Luna sitting on the front desk making more talismans.
“Luna?” Neville tried to peer over the two boxes he was holding to see Luna, but gave up, dropping them loudly on the counter right next to Luna, who didn’t even jump. “Luna, I asked you a question.”
“Mmmm?” she hummed, not even looking up at Neville, who started to scowl.
“Luna!”
“Yes, Neville?” she said in that sickeningly calm voice that only made Neville more irritated.
“Where. Do these. Boxes. Go.” He ground out, glaring.
Luna stared at the boxes, then Neville, then back at the boxes. She just shrugged. “Probably in the back.”
“Really? Neville said sarcastically. “The back? Why, I never would’ve thought of that! I mean, that’s only where I’ve been putting all the boxes for the last three hours while you’ve been sitting up here making your necklaces!”
“Ah -“ Luna held up her hand, which smelled like citrusy garlic. Neville wrinkled his nose. “They’re talismans. Plus, I’ve been tending to the customers.”
“That excuse made sense when there actually were customers. Do you see any customers here now?” Neville waved his arms around the empty bookshop. Luna just frowned.
“Now, once more: Where do these boxes go?”
“In the closet to the far left in the back. Next to the boxes labeled ‘New Releases’,” a voice responded from the doorway.
Neville and Luna’s head shot up to see who entered the shop. Hermione walked up to the counter and copied Luna by hopping up next to her and laying her head on her shoulder. "What are you doing here anyway, Luna? I thought you'd be in bed."
Luna just shrugged and continued to work on her talisman. Hermione wrinkled her nose and pulled her head up, her eyes locked on the source of the disgusting smell. “Luna, I thought I said not to bring those here!” Hermione moaned, rubbing her temples.
“Oh, I know. But I didn’t have any more room in my house, so I decided to store them here.”
Hermione froze, gazing wildly at Neville, who just grimaced. “You’ve been storing them here? For how long?”
“Not long.”
“How long?”
“A few months.”
Hermione moaned again, her shoulders sagging. “Luna, how could you?”
“I’ve been putting them in the farthest corner in the back, so none of the customers can smell them.” Luna said, looking at Hermione with a look that said What’s the big deal?
“Luna, I thought I made it clear about all your talismans and charms -“
“Where have you been tonight, Hermione?” Luna suddenly said, still working on her talismans.
“What? I told you, I went to the appointment with the publishers -“
“At five. It is now…” Luna looked at her watch that had no numbers, but twelve hands pointing at what Hermione thought were planets. Hermione never understood this watch, but Luna seemed to know how to read it, for she got the time right every time. “Nine-thirty. Where have you been? Surely it didn’t take that long for the meeting to end, did it?”
“I - I mean, that is - Don’t change the subject!”
“Now I’m kind of interested,” Neville smiled wickedly, leaning on the boxes, his chin in his hand.
“It’s none of your business,” Hermione said with a hint of malice. They both seemed unfazed, and only more interested.
“Did you meet up with someone? Do you have other friends?” Neville said, standing up straight and holding his chest, as if wounded. “I’m hurt, Hermione, hurt.”
“Oh, ha ha, very funny.”
“Did you see Ronald?”
Neville stopped clutching his heart and looked at Hermione. “Who’s Ronald?”
“No one, he’s no one, all right?” Hermione gave Luna a pointed look. “Drop it,” she hissed.
“Ronald is this boy that Hermione met last Christmas Eve at a coffee shop.”
“Luna!”
“Really? How come I haven’t met him?”
“Because -“
“Because she hasn’t seen him since. Until tonight, though.”
“All right!” Hermione threw her hands in the air, jumping off the counter. “Fine.”
Luna stared at Hermione with her serene expression. Neville suddenly looked amused.
“Yes, he’s this guy that I met last year. We had a drink together, and then we went our separate ways. That’s it!
“Well, other than tonight, you mean.” Neville winked.
Hermione sighed. “Yes, I managed to see him again tonight at the coffee shop, and we had dinner, okay? That’s it! I don’t wanna talk about it anymore.”
“You had dinner with him?” Neville looked shocked. “You don’t really know him.”
“Yes, I know. That’s why I said no first. But then -“ she broke off. What he said… just thinking about it still makes her heart melt. I need to know you more…
“What?”
Hermione shook her head slightly. “Never mind. We had dinner, that’s it.” Hermione grabbed one of the boxes that Neville neglected but didn’t move. She looked lost in thought. Luna noticed. “Hermione?”
“He said he needed to know me more.”
Neville, who picked up the other box, suddenly dropped it back on the counter and gave Hermione an excited look. “Knew it, there’s more. Should I make tea?”
“What do you mean?” Luna asked.
“Not wanted to know me more, like most guys say, but needed to. And the look in his eyes when he said it… My knees are still wobbly.”
Neville snorted, like he was going to laugh, but Hermione, pretty insecure about this discussion, glared at him. “If you don’t want to hear it, then you can take these boxes in the back.”
Neville stifled his laughter, but kept his smirk, which only irritated Hermione further. “I promise, I won’t laugh.” He jumped up on the counter next to Luna, stretching one arm behind his back so he could lean on it and waving the other one as a sign to continue. Hermione continued to glare.
“Anyway,” she spat. “After we bumped into each other at the coffee shop, we went out to dinner. He was charming and sweet and asked if I wanted dessert and practically ordered me not to pay for my meal.”
“But you did anyway, right?” Luna smiled.
“Well, of course! It’s not like it was a date or anything. It was just two people going to get something to eat, catching up on… things.” She trailed off, grimacing.
“Hermione?”
“Huh?”
“That was a date. Sorry to say, but it was.” Neville started smiling again. “You’re not friends; you’ve only met once, and you met up again, the first time in a year, and you go out to dinner. That’s a date, Hermione.”
“It was not!”
“It was,” both Luna and Neville said.
“So,” Neville pushed off his arm and gave Hermione a hard stare. “Did you give him your number?”
“Of course not!”
“Address?”
“Neville…”
“E-mail? Places where he can send you smoke signals? Anything?”
“I -“ Hermione stopped, eyes glazing over, frowning. “I said that we can set up a tradition.”
“A tradition.” It wasn’t a question, but Hermione took it as such.
“Yes, a tradition. Since we only seem to run into each other on Christmas Eve, I said that we can do just that. Every Christmas Eve we’re going to meet up at the Lady Luck Coffee Shop in London and talk, have drinks, whatever.”
Neville stared. Luna looked up from her talisman with an actual shocked look on her face.
“Hermione -“
“I think it’s reasonable.”
“Hermione! That is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. Even more than when Luna tried to tell me there are things called Intelligiants that roam around the forests and tell people random facts.”
“It’s true! My father saw one on his travels -“
“Luna! Let’s focus on Hermione and her dumb decision to drive away a guy that might actually be perfect for her.”
“Oh, let’s,” Luna smiled.
“You two are being ridiculous. If it was meant to be, then something’ll happen. Until then,” she picked up the box of books once more, but Neville grabbed it from her arms and plopped it back on the counter.
“Hermione, how do you know if it isn’t meant to be? You didn’t even give it a chance!” Hermione could tell that Neville was getting frustrated. “You even said that he was charming and sweet and all that stuff that birds say all the time.”
“When are you going to stop pushing people away, Hermione?” Luna said sadly.
Hermione was struck speechless. Worry lines appeared between her eyebrows. “I -“ She cleared her throat. “I don’t push people -“
“Yes you do, Hermione. Don’t insult my intelligence by saying otherwise.”
“I wasn’t insulting you -“
“I know,” Luna said. She finally put down her talismans and hopped off the counter, fixing Hermione with a hard stare. “But you do push people away. People that care about you. You may not know it, and it may not be noticeable, but it happens. We’re partners here at the shop, yet you tell me nothing about your personal life. You don’t tell me what’s going on with you. You don’t tell anyone. I think this is the first real conversation that we had that didn’t center on inventory and hiring employees.” Luna’s mouth turned into a slight pout, stuffing the necklaces she made into her shoulder bag. “You didn’t even tell me about Ronald. I can tell he’s important to you. But you’ll never know, now, will you? You’ll end up pushing him away.”
Luna grabbed her coat and hat off the rack near the front of the shop, her shoulder bag hanging from her arm.
“Just figure out what you’re going to do, for Ronald’s sake, and your own.” With that final note, she pushed the door open, letting a large gust of chilling wind and snow inside the shop, before slipping out.
Hermione and Neville just stood rooted to their spots, staring at the door that Luna just disappeared through. Hermione opened and closed her mouth several times before giving up and flinging herself on the counter, laying fully along the length of it, her ankles and feet hanging over the edge. Neville exhaled between his teeth.
“Well, forget the tea, how ‘bout some whiskey?” Neville didn’t even wait for Hermione’s affirmative before disappearing into the back room.
________________________________________________________
Ron banged the door to his flat open, letting it rattle the picture frames on the surrounding walls. He threw his keys on the kitchen table and was about to drown himself in a big glass of whiskey when the sight of his sister jolted him.
“Bloody hell! What’re you doing here?”
“And hello to you, too, dear brother,” Ginny said sweetly, taking a sip of water from a glass. “I let myself in.”
“Obviously,” Ron muttered. “Seriously, Gin, what are you doing here? I thought you and Harry -“ Ron stopped to grumble, flinging cabinets open to find his stash of liquor.
“Yes, we did. And he did, if you were wondering.”
Ron stopped questing for his whiskey, whirling around to see Ginny beaming.
“That’s great, Ginny. Really, you two are going to be so happy together.”
“Well, I should hope so,” she said, tossing her hair off her shoulder, still smiling widely.
Ron shook his head and walked over to his sister, pulling her off the couch and giving her a hug. “Congratulations, Gin.”
“Thank you,” she said, patting him on the back and laughing when he only hugged her tighter. “Okay, stop, or you’ll have to explain to Harry why his fiancé suffocated.”
Ron let go, smiling, but this time it was a sad one. Ginny didn’t miss it. She never missed things like that.
“So what’s got you huffing around like the big, bad wolf?” Ginny sat back down on the couch, patting the spot next to her. Ron complied, sighing deeply.
“It’s nothing, really.”
“Mmmm…” Ginny took another sip of her water. “Really.”
“It’s nothing to bother you with. Silly stuff. Why aren’t you with Harry? I thought you’d be together all night,” Ron grimaced. “Celebrating.”
“So mature, Ron,” she said, laughing. “No, I had to tell my favorite brother the great news.”
Ron pretended to be angry. “You mean to tell me that you went to see Bill before me?”
“Oh, ha ha.” She rolled her eyes, swatting his arm. “Don’t play dumb. Although Harry probably told you anyway, right?”
“Yeah,” Ron said, taking Ginny’s water and drinking the rest of it. She huffed. “Earlier this evening, actually. I guess he didn’t want to jinx it by telling everyone.”
“Sounds like Harry,” Ginny smiled. “We’ll tell the rest of the family tomorrow.
“Now,” she turned her body to give Ron a good look. “What’s going on with you? I feel we haven’t talked much, what with work and all that.”
“Oh, nothing really. Just work and all that.”
“So there’s nothing going on with you? So it was nothing that made you storm in here like you were going to kill someone?”
Ron sighed and stood up to refill the water glass. “Gin…”
“Is it that girl? That girl from the coffee shop?”
Ron spun around, wide-eyed. “How d’you -“
“Harry told me,” she said simply, with no trace of remorse.
Ron glared at her, then at the glass in his hand. “I’m gonna need something stronger.”
Ginny stood up and followed Ron into the kitchen, watching him try and find the whiskey for a few moments. “Well?”
“Well what, Gin? I told you I don’t wanna talk about it.”
“No, you said you didn’t want to bother me with it,” she corrected, making Ron grit his teeth.
“Well, now I’m telling you I don’t want to talk about it.” He finally managed to find the whiskey. He plucked a glass that rested behind the bottle and poured himself a generous amount. Ginny wrinkled her nose.
“I don’t see why you and Harry like that stuff.”
“It helps us become numb to the pain,” Ron drawled, taking a sip and hissing. “Re-freshing.”
Ginny sighed deeply and leaned against the kitchen counter. “I can stay here all night.”
“Great, that’ll cheer Harry up. His betrothed would rather stay with her brother than him.”
“If he saw you like this, he’d agree.”
Ron had a scathing retort on his tongue but decided against it. His shoulders slumped and he trudged into the living room. Ginny soon followed.
“Ron,” her tone was soothing now. “What’s really going on? Is it about that girl?”
Ron took another sip. Another hiss. There would be no point in lying to her; she’d know.
“Yes,” he said, lying back against the couch, staring at the ceiling. “I saw her again tonight.”
“Really?” She sounded surprised. “What happened?”
“We met up by the coffee shop. Again. And I practically had to beg her to go out to dinner with me.” Ginny smiled at this. “But then, nothing. Nothing happened; she didn’t give me her number or anything. Just her name: Hermione. Beautiful name, isn’t it?” He took another sip, a big one this time, causing him to cough slightly.
“Er - Very pretty, Ron.” Best not tell him that it was the oddest name Ginny’s heard.
“But she did say this: That we should start a tradition of meeting up at the coffee shop every Christmas Eve and ‘catch up’.” He used clumsy air quotes when he said catch up. “Like I’m one of her girlfriends that goes out to tea.” He glared at the table in front of the couch. “I thought -“ he cracked and took another drink of whiskey. “I thought she might’ve felt something, like I did. I really thought she did. I thought she thought of me at least once during the year away. I mean, I did.”
“I know, Ron.” Ginny put her arm around his shoulders, and surprisingly, he leaned into her.
“I thought about her all the time. It hurt how much I did, yet it felt so good. All I thought about was her face and her hair and her eyes and how on earth I’d get to see her again. And tonight I had the chance, and she doesn’t want anything to do with me,” he said all this slowly. Ginny saw his eyes drooping, but he took another sip.
“You don’t know that…”
“What kind of bird only wants to meet up once a year? Yes, Gin, I know. She just wants to be friends. Even then I wouldn’t call it that…” Another drink. “Seeing someone once a year… That’s what we do when Auntie Muriel comes to visit. You do that when a relative you don’t even like comes over. Why doesn’t she like me, Ginny?”
Ginny pulled him closer, hearing the fatigue in his voice. She pulled the now-empty glass out of his fingers and placed it on the table. Ron protested weakly.
“I wasn’t done with that…”
“It’s all gone, Ron. It’s gone.”
“Gone… Right.” He pulled back slightly, only to lay his head on Ginny’s lap. She ran her fingers through his hair to soothe him, but he was still muttering incoherent words. “… once a year… Auntie Muriel… doesn’t want me…”
After a few more minutes, Ron finally fell asleep. Ginny managed to pull herself from under him and grabbed the blanket from the chair to drape over Ron’s long body. Even the blanket wasn’t long enough; his ankles were still showing. Ginny smiled sadly and placed a soft kiss to his hairline. She stood over her brother’s sleeping form for a few more moments before quietly leaving his flat to head home to Harry.
________________________________________________________
Previous Chapters:
Chapter One: The Lady Luck Coffee Shop.
Chapter Two: The Little Black Book Publishing Co.
by: Mena yourlaughter
fandom: Harry Potter
genre: Romance
characters: Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Luna Lovegood, Neville Longbottom, Harry Potter, Ginny Weasley
originally written: January 16th, 2008
Summary: They met by chance on that cold Christmas Eve, and after that they promised they’d meet up at that same place every year, no matter what. But is it really appropriate to meet up for a date when Hermione is dating someone else and Ron is getting married?
The Christmas Date
Chapter Three: The Tradition
Hermione walked out of The Little Black Book Publishing Co. with a spring in her step. She hadn’t even gone three feet away from the building before squealing in delight and dancing on the sidewalk, startling some passersby. But she didn’t care; her book was going to get published. Her book was going to get published! She couldn’t wait to call Luna and tell her the good news.
Hermione glanced at her watch for a moment, her free hand reaching for her mobile, before she stopped herself and sighed. It was 8:00. Luna may be a strange one, but she loved her sleep; she always went to bed by at least 7:19 at night. Not 7, not 7:30, but 7:19. Oh, the mind of Luna Lovegood…
Hermione smiled and shook her head, adjusting the tote bag she was carrying on her shoulder. As she turned to head home her eyes caught sight of the coffee shop across the street. She frowned, gazing at the many Christmas lights that lined the roof and the Christmas tree that was easily seen through the front window. Hermione always passed by this shop and in the back of her mind she thought it was charming and quaint; quite original and small, yet stood out. But she never stopped in. At least, not until last Christmas Eve.
I guess it’s called Lady Luck for a good reason, Hermione thought to herself, the edges of her mouth tipping up into a sad smile and giving the coffee shop one last look. She was about to take off until destiny intervened once more.
Hermione’s heart stopped for a split second before speeding up so quickly she thought it was going to burst out of her chest. There, that man with the ginger hair… It can’t be him, can it?
Well, of course it can, Hermione thought bitterly. He did say that he visited the shop everyday; had a cup of coffee or tea or whatever and then went about his business. This shop obviously meant a lot to him, so of course he’d still go even after a year’s time had passed. But for him to be there at the exact same time she was? Coincidence? Or is Luck being a Lady tonight?
Hermione never had any regrets in her life. She always thought that everything happened for a reason and she should just accept it; whatever it may be. Any choices she made, she knew were for a reason; she knew that they were the best ones for her in the long run, even if she didn’t think so at the time.
Yet that night last Christmas Eve, when she met that handsome man with the ginger hair and the crooked smile and the eyes that were bluer than the bluest sapphire, she knew she made a mistake, and even after all this time, she regretted it.
She knew she should’ve told him her name, at least. That’s all he wanted, really, but she turned away; curled up in her shell and pretended that his smile didn’t make her leg twitch. That his piercing stare didn’t make her mouth dry so quickly that she had to take a long gulp of water. That his whole damn demeanor didn’t make her want him.
After that night, after running away from him and trying to hail a taxi, the packages in her arms weighing down on her arms, she knew that the decision to not give him any information would haunt her. And she was right. Every pair of blue eyes she saw were dull and boring compared to Ron’s. Every ginger-haired man she passed by would make her do a double take. Every maroon jumper or coat or anything would make her breath catch and her face fall.
Frankly, she was going insane over it.
Honestly, the one decision I make about a guy and it drives me mad! The only one!
She tried to hard to forget him. It was only one night, for Pete’s sake! One night, one drink, that’s it. So why was it so hard to drive him from her mind?
Maybe it was that final stare he fixed her with before she bolted; that final look when he said he wanted to see her again. It almost turned her legs into putty. It was such a passionate gaze, and only after one night!
I guess that’s what I’m missing from my life: passion. And I turned away from the one man who could give it to me.
Hermione huffed. Oh, please, I have passion in my life! I don’t need a man to have passion.
So then why does she absent-mindedly look for that guy almost every day?
The man with ginger hair stood up from his table at the coffee shop, throwing a few notes down to pay for his drink. At that moment, Hermione decided to bugger the consequences.
She grabbed her tote’s strap and purposefully marched over to the man, her eyes never leaving her destination. After crossing the street, she reached the man, who was now taking a last drink from his tea, and tapped him on the shoulder, hoping against all hope that it really was him.
He choked, sending some of the tea that was still in his mouth across the table. Whirling around on the spot, the man looked like he was going to yell at her, but then their eyes locked. Hermione’s breath caught; it was him. It really was him. She almost couldn’t believe it. She wanted to reach out and touch his face, just to make sure she wasn’t hallucinating or even dreaming. Instead, she beamed at him.
“Whoa,” Hermione said, suddenly remembering what he said the first time they met. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”
Ron, instead of responding, harshly put his empty teacup on the table, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. Hermione couldn’t stop smiling at him.
“I heard this place was good,” she said with a teasing tone, looking around at the many tables outside of the shop. “Recommendations?”
“Er… Uh - the water?” he said, looking a little confused. Hermione giggled in her hand, and she noticed that Ron began to smile.
She didn’t want to mess this up again. Not this time. So, it was time to take things slow, and hope that they will gradually turn into something… better. Hermione stuck out her hand for Ron to shake. He looked confused once more before she elaborated. “I’m Hermione by the way.”
Ron then smiled wider, taking her outstretched hand and shaking it smoothly. He opened his mouth to say something, but Hermione, fearing that he might make fun of her name, beat him to it.
“I know Hermione is an odd name, but if you make fun of it I will have to take drastic measures in hurting you,” she said quickly, pulling her hand back and running it through her mass of bushy hair. Ron just stared at her, head cocked to the side and that maddeningly adorable grin on his face.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
________________________________________________________
“Um…” Ron sputtered, fishing around his brain for something, anything interesting to say. “Erm… D’you - d’you wanna sit?” He gestured to the table.
“Oh, but it looks like you’re leaving -“
“I’m not leaving!” Ron said quickly, blushing slightly at his outburst. Man, definitely a hormonal teenager. “I mean, yes, I was going to leave, but now that you’re here -“ Ron stopped, staring at her.
A confused smile appeared on Hermione’s face. “What?”
“Nothing. Just -“ He cleared his throat. God, he was so bad at this. “Are you hungry?”
“Huh?”
“Hungry. Are you? ‘Cause I’m starving and there’s nothing here that’ll fill me up. All scones and baked goods and all.”
Ron saw her back steel up, as if ready to bolt again. She was still uncomfortable with him. Ron frowned. Why?
“Oh, well… I mean, it’s pretty late, and I just wanted to pop over and say hello, so…”
Ron panicked. No! She needs to stay. I only got her name, not even her surname. I can’t lose her again.
“Just a quick bite. I promise,” he said quickly, looking at his watch. “Plus, it’s not really that late, is it?”
Hermione checked her watch as well, still frowning. “Well, I have to wake up early for inventory…”
“Hermione…” he trailed off, staring at her. “Have dinner with me. A simple, normal dinner. Your pick.”
She just stared at him, not answering. She cocked her head to the side and suddenly looked like she was going to cry.
“I shouldn’t have come…” She turned to leave.
“Whoa!” Ron grabbed her arm before she turned. “What’s going on? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, nothing’s wrong. I’m fine. I just have to go home.”
“Hermione, please…”
“It was nice to see you again.” She gently pulled her arm out of his grasp, and Ron, too stunned to react, let her.
She was halfway down the street before Ron’s brain kicked back on. He sprinted to her retreating figure, spinning around so he was standing in front of her, blocking her way. Hermione frowned.
“Really, I should be getting -“
“Hermione, I haven’t seen you in a year, and during that year all I’ve thought about was you, and frankly, it’s been driving me mad.”
Hermione inhaled through her nose sharply, her eyes wide. Ron continued.
“I kicked myself everyday for not getting your name, or anything about you. You left an impression on me.” Ron grimaced at his choice of words, but Hermione didn’t seem to mind. She was still staring wide-eyed at him. Ron took a deep breath.
“I need to know you more. I need to. Whatever’s wrong; whatever’s making you afraid to take a chance with me, please, just ignore it. At least for tonight. At lease go out to dinner with me and forget everything. Just let go.”
Hermione’s grip on her tote bag looked almost painful; her knuckles were white, but she didn’t relinquish. She finally broke eye contact and looked at the ground, the building next to them, the cars driving by; but never at Ron. He waited patiently. Best not to spook her.
She looked like she was having a battle in her mind. Ron wished he knew what she was thinking. He was about to ask her but she finally spoke.
“Okay.”
Ron wasn’t sure he heard her right. “Wh-what?”
“Okay.”
Ron exhaled loudly, his crooked smile coming back. He ran his fingers through his hair and made a move to carry her tote bag for her. Her grip tightened and he pulled back, but she took a deep breath and gave it over to him. He smiled wider.
“Right,” he said, slinging it over his own shoulder and giving Hermione a sidelong glance. Her fingers were shaking. “I know the perfect place.”
He led her a few feet before she stopped and gave Ron a stern look. “I thought you said I got to pick where we were going to eat?”
Ron smirked. “I did.”
“Well then,” she said, pulling her coat closer to her body, running her fingers through her wild hair to get rid of the snow flurries that were embedded in the tresses. “I know the perfect place.”
________________________________________________________
“Luna, where do these boxes go?”
Neville and Luna were found at the bookshop, Neville lugging heavy book-filled boxes and Luna sitting on the front desk making more talismans.
“Luna?” Neville tried to peer over the two boxes he was holding to see Luna, but gave up, dropping them loudly on the counter right next to Luna, who didn’t even jump. “Luna, I asked you a question.”
“Mmmm?” she hummed, not even looking up at Neville, who started to scowl.
“Luna!”
“Yes, Neville?” she said in that sickeningly calm voice that only made Neville more irritated.
“Where. Do these. Boxes. Go.” He ground out, glaring.
Luna stared at the boxes, then Neville, then back at the boxes. She just shrugged. “Probably in the back.”
“Really? Neville said sarcastically. “The back? Why, I never would’ve thought of that! I mean, that’s only where I’ve been putting all the boxes for the last three hours while you’ve been sitting up here making your necklaces!”
“Ah -“ Luna held up her hand, which smelled like citrusy garlic. Neville wrinkled his nose. “They’re talismans. Plus, I’ve been tending to the customers.”
“That excuse made sense when there actually were customers. Do you see any customers here now?” Neville waved his arms around the empty bookshop. Luna just frowned.
“Now, once more: Where do these boxes go?”
“In the closet to the far left in the back. Next to the boxes labeled ‘New Releases’,” a voice responded from the doorway.
Neville and Luna’s head shot up to see who entered the shop. Hermione walked up to the counter and copied Luna by hopping up next to her and laying her head on her shoulder. "What are you doing here anyway, Luna? I thought you'd be in bed."
Luna just shrugged and continued to work on her talisman. Hermione wrinkled her nose and pulled her head up, her eyes locked on the source of the disgusting smell. “Luna, I thought I said not to bring those here!” Hermione moaned, rubbing her temples.
“Oh, I know. But I didn’t have any more room in my house, so I decided to store them here.”
Hermione froze, gazing wildly at Neville, who just grimaced. “You’ve been storing them here? For how long?”
“Not long.”
“How long?”
“A few months.”
Hermione moaned again, her shoulders sagging. “Luna, how could you?”
“I’ve been putting them in the farthest corner in the back, so none of the customers can smell them.” Luna said, looking at Hermione with a look that said What’s the big deal?
“Luna, I thought I made it clear about all your talismans and charms -“
“Where have you been tonight, Hermione?” Luna suddenly said, still working on her talismans.
“What? I told you, I went to the appointment with the publishers -“
“At five. It is now…” Luna looked at her watch that had no numbers, but twelve hands pointing at what Hermione thought were planets. Hermione never understood this watch, but Luna seemed to know how to read it, for she got the time right every time. “Nine-thirty. Where have you been? Surely it didn’t take that long for the meeting to end, did it?”
“I - I mean, that is - Don’t change the subject!”
“Now I’m kind of interested,” Neville smiled wickedly, leaning on the boxes, his chin in his hand.
“It’s none of your business,” Hermione said with a hint of malice. They both seemed unfazed, and only more interested.
“Did you meet up with someone? Do you have other friends?” Neville said, standing up straight and holding his chest, as if wounded. “I’m hurt, Hermione, hurt.”
“Oh, ha ha, very funny.”
“Did you see Ronald?”
Neville stopped clutching his heart and looked at Hermione. “Who’s Ronald?”
“No one, he’s no one, all right?” Hermione gave Luna a pointed look. “Drop it,” she hissed.
“Ronald is this boy that Hermione met last Christmas Eve at a coffee shop.”
“Luna!”
“Really? How come I haven’t met him?”
“Because -“
“Because she hasn’t seen him since. Until tonight, though.”
“All right!” Hermione threw her hands in the air, jumping off the counter. “Fine.”
Luna stared at Hermione with her serene expression. Neville suddenly looked amused.
“Yes, he’s this guy that I met last year. We had a drink together, and then we went our separate ways. That’s it!
“Well, other than tonight, you mean.” Neville winked.
Hermione sighed. “Yes, I managed to see him again tonight at the coffee shop, and we had dinner, okay? That’s it! I don’t wanna talk about it anymore.”
“You had dinner with him?” Neville looked shocked. “You don’t really know him.”
“Yes, I know. That’s why I said no first. But then -“ she broke off. What he said… just thinking about it still makes her heart melt. I need to know you more…
“What?”
Hermione shook her head slightly. “Never mind. We had dinner, that’s it.” Hermione grabbed one of the boxes that Neville neglected but didn’t move. She looked lost in thought. Luna noticed. “Hermione?”
“He said he needed to know me more.”
Neville, who picked up the other box, suddenly dropped it back on the counter and gave Hermione an excited look. “Knew it, there’s more. Should I make tea?”
“What do you mean?” Luna asked.
“Not wanted to know me more, like most guys say, but needed to. And the look in his eyes when he said it… My knees are still wobbly.”
Neville snorted, like he was going to laugh, but Hermione, pretty insecure about this discussion, glared at him. “If you don’t want to hear it, then you can take these boxes in the back.”
Neville stifled his laughter, but kept his smirk, which only irritated Hermione further. “I promise, I won’t laugh.” He jumped up on the counter next to Luna, stretching one arm behind his back so he could lean on it and waving the other one as a sign to continue. Hermione continued to glare.
“Anyway,” she spat. “After we bumped into each other at the coffee shop, we went out to dinner. He was charming and sweet and asked if I wanted dessert and practically ordered me not to pay for my meal.”
“But you did anyway, right?” Luna smiled.
“Well, of course! It’s not like it was a date or anything. It was just two people going to get something to eat, catching up on… things.” She trailed off, grimacing.
“Hermione?”
“Huh?”
“That was a date. Sorry to say, but it was.” Neville started smiling again. “You’re not friends; you’ve only met once, and you met up again, the first time in a year, and you go out to dinner. That’s a date, Hermione.”
“It was not!”
“It was,” both Luna and Neville said.
“So,” Neville pushed off his arm and gave Hermione a hard stare. “Did you give him your number?”
“Of course not!”
“Address?”
“Neville…”
“E-mail? Places where he can send you smoke signals? Anything?”
“I -“ Hermione stopped, eyes glazing over, frowning. “I said that we can set up a tradition.”
“A tradition.” It wasn’t a question, but Hermione took it as such.
“Yes, a tradition. Since we only seem to run into each other on Christmas Eve, I said that we can do just that. Every Christmas Eve we’re going to meet up at the Lady Luck Coffee Shop in London and talk, have drinks, whatever.”
Neville stared. Luna looked up from her talisman with an actual shocked look on her face.
“Hermione -“
“I think it’s reasonable.”
“Hermione! That is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. Even more than when Luna tried to tell me there are things called Intelligiants that roam around the forests and tell people random facts.”
“It’s true! My father saw one on his travels -“
“Luna! Let’s focus on Hermione and her dumb decision to drive away a guy that might actually be perfect for her.”
“Oh, let’s,” Luna smiled.
“You two are being ridiculous. If it was meant to be, then something’ll happen. Until then,” she picked up the box of books once more, but Neville grabbed it from her arms and plopped it back on the counter.
“Hermione, how do you know if it isn’t meant to be? You didn’t even give it a chance!” Hermione could tell that Neville was getting frustrated. “You even said that he was charming and sweet and all that stuff that birds say all the time.”
“When are you going to stop pushing people away, Hermione?” Luna said sadly.
Hermione was struck speechless. Worry lines appeared between her eyebrows. “I -“ She cleared her throat. “I don’t push people -“
“Yes you do, Hermione. Don’t insult my intelligence by saying otherwise.”
“I wasn’t insulting you -“
“I know,” Luna said. She finally put down her talismans and hopped off the counter, fixing Hermione with a hard stare. “But you do push people away. People that care about you. You may not know it, and it may not be noticeable, but it happens. We’re partners here at the shop, yet you tell me nothing about your personal life. You don’t tell me what’s going on with you. You don’t tell anyone. I think this is the first real conversation that we had that didn’t center on inventory and hiring employees.” Luna’s mouth turned into a slight pout, stuffing the necklaces she made into her shoulder bag. “You didn’t even tell me about Ronald. I can tell he’s important to you. But you’ll never know, now, will you? You’ll end up pushing him away.”
Luna grabbed her coat and hat off the rack near the front of the shop, her shoulder bag hanging from her arm.
“Just figure out what you’re going to do, for Ronald’s sake, and your own.” With that final note, she pushed the door open, letting a large gust of chilling wind and snow inside the shop, before slipping out.
Hermione and Neville just stood rooted to their spots, staring at the door that Luna just disappeared through. Hermione opened and closed her mouth several times before giving up and flinging herself on the counter, laying fully along the length of it, her ankles and feet hanging over the edge. Neville exhaled between his teeth.
“Well, forget the tea, how ‘bout some whiskey?” Neville didn’t even wait for Hermione’s affirmative before disappearing into the back room.
________________________________________________________
Ron banged the door to his flat open, letting it rattle the picture frames on the surrounding walls. He threw his keys on the kitchen table and was about to drown himself in a big glass of whiskey when the sight of his sister jolted him.
“Bloody hell! What’re you doing here?”
“And hello to you, too, dear brother,” Ginny said sweetly, taking a sip of water from a glass. “I let myself in.”
“Obviously,” Ron muttered. “Seriously, Gin, what are you doing here? I thought you and Harry -“ Ron stopped to grumble, flinging cabinets open to find his stash of liquor.
“Yes, we did. And he did, if you were wondering.”
Ron stopped questing for his whiskey, whirling around to see Ginny beaming.
“That’s great, Ginny. Really, you two are going to be so happy together.”
“Well, I should hope so,” she said, tossing her hair off her shoulder, still smiling widely.
Ron shook his head and walked over to his sister, pulling her off the couch and giving her a hug. “Congratulations, Gin.”
“Thank you,” she said, patting him on the back and laughing when he only hugged her tighter. “Okay, stop, or you’ll have to explain to Harry why his fiancé suffocated.”
Ron let go, smiling, but this time it was a sad one. Ginny didn’t miss it. She never missed things like that.
“So what’s got you huffing around like the big, bad wolf?” Ginny sat back down on the couch, patting the spot next to her. Ron complied, sighing deeply.
“It’s nothing, really.”
“Mmmm…” Ginny took another sip of her water. “Really.”
“It’s nothing to bother you with. Silly stuff. Why aren’t you with Harry? I thought you’d be together all night,” Ron grimaced. “Celebrating.”
“So mature, Ron,” she said, laughing. “No, I had to tell my favorite brother the great news.”
Ron pretended to be angry. “You mean to tell me that you went to see Bill before me?”
“Oh, ha ha.” She rolled her eyes, swatting his arm. “Don’t play dumb. Although Harry probably told you anyway, right?”
“Yeah,” Ron said, taking Ginny’s water and drinking the rest of it. She huffed. “Earlier this evening, actually. I guess he didn’t want to jinx it by telling everyone.”
“Sounds like Harry,” Ginny smiled. “We’ll tell the rest of the family tomorrow.
“Now,” she turned her body to give Ron a good look. “What’s going on with you? I feel we haven’t talked much, what with work and all that.”
“Oh, nothing really. Just work and all that.”
“So there’s nothing going on with you? So it was nothing that made you storm in here like you were going to kill someone?”
Ron sighed and stood up to refill the water glass. “Gin…”
“Is it that girl? That girl from the coffee shop?”
Ron spun around, wide-eyed. “How d’you -“
“Harry told me,” she said simply, with no trace of remorse.
Ron glared at her, then at the glass in his hand. “I’m gonna need something stronger.”
Ginny stood up and followed Ron into the kitchen, watching him try and find the whiskey for a few moments. “Well?”
“Well what, Gin? I told you I don’t wanna talk about it.”
“No, you said you didn’t want to bother me with it,” she corrected, making Ron grit his teeth.
“Well, now I’m telling you I don’t want to talk about it.” He finally managed to find the whiskey. He plucked a glass that rested behind the bottle and poured himself a generous amount. Ginny wrinkled her nose.
“I don’t see why you and Harry like that stuff.”
“It helps us become numb to the pain,” Ron drawled, taking a sip and hissing. “Re-freshing.”
Ginny sighed deeply and leaned against the kitchen counter. “I can stay here all night.”
“Great, that’ll cheer Harry up. His betrothed would rather stay with her brother than him.”
“If he saw you like this, he’d agree.”
Ron had a scathing retort on his tongue but decided against it. His shoulders slumped and he trudged into the living room. Ginny soon followed.
“Ron,” her tone was soothing now. “What’s really going on? Is it about that girl?”
Ron took another sip. Another hiss. There would be no point in lying to her; she’d know.
“Yes,” he said, lying back against the couch, staring at the ceiling. “I saw her again tonight.”
“Really?” She sounded surprised. “What happened?”
“We met up by the coffee shop. Again. And I practically had to beg her to go out to dinner with me.” Ginny smiled at this. “But then, nothing. Nothing happened; she didn’t give me her number or anything. Just her name: Hermione. Beautiful name, isn’t it?” He took another sip, a big one this time, causing him to cough slightly.
“Er - Very pretty, Ron.” Best not tell him that it was the oddest name Ginny’s heard.
“But she did say this: That we should start a tradition of meeting up at the coffee shop every Christmas Eve and ‘catch up’.” He used clumsy air quotes when he said catch up. “Like I’m one of her girlfriends that goes out to tea.” He glared at the table in front of the couch. “I thought -“ he cracked and took another drink of whiskey. “I thought she might’ve felt something, like I did. I really thought she did. I thought she thought of me at least once during the year away. I mean, I did.”
“I know, Ron.” Ginny put her arm around his shoulders, and surprisingly, he leaned into her.
“I thought about her all the time. It hurt how much I did, yet it felt so good. All I thought about was her face and her hair and her eyes and how on earth I’d get to see her again. And tonight I had the chance, and she doesn’t want anything to do with me,” he said all this slowly. Ginny saw his eyes drooping, but he took another sip.
“You don’t know that…”
“What kind of bird only wants to meet up once a year? Yes, Gin, I know. She just wants to be friends. Even then I wouldn’t call it that…” Another drink. “Seeing someone once a year… That’s what we do when Auntie Muriel comes to visit. You do that when a relative you don’t even like comes over. Why doesn’t she like me, Ginny?”
Ginny pulled him closer, hearing the fatigue in his voice. She pulled the now-empty glass out of his fingers and placed it on the table. Ron protested weakly.
“I wasn’t done with that…”
“It’s all gone, Ron. It’s gone.”
“Gone… Right.” He pulled back slightly, only to lay his head on Ginny’s lap. She ran her fingers through his hair to soothe him, but he was still muttering incoherent words. “… once a year… Auntie Muriel… doesn’t want me…”
After a few more minutes, Ron finally fell asleep. Ginny managed to pull herself from under him and grabbed the blanket from the chair to drape over Ron’s long body. Even the blanket wasn’t long enough; his ankles were still showing. Ginny smiled sadly and placed a soft kiss to his hairline. She stood over her brother’s sleeping form for a few more moments before quietly leaving his flat to head home to Harry.
________________________________________________________
Previous Chapters:
Chapter One: The Lady Luck Coffee Shop.
Chapter Two: The Little Black Book Publishing Co.