Everything you recognise belongs to JKR and Ure. This is a rip-off or an adaptation, to please myself, of Ure's gentle bawdy frolic 'You win some, you lose some'. You have been duly warned.
Chapter 11 It's true, isn't it?
The Country Life was a simple, spotless buffet restaurant in the City, a few steps away from Piccadilly Circus. It felt quiet and peaceful with hushed voices and light panpipe music (rather like being in church, thought Harry). There were a great variety of fresh salads, hot dishes and yummy looking deserts, tapas style.
'They are vegan food, all of them.' said Hermione.
'Oh, yes?' At any other time, such a statement might have interested him; tonight it did not. He listened with half an ear while she numerated the health-giving properties of beans and tofu (was she nervous?), then seizing the opportunity of a brief break in the monologue, charged straight in with: 'So what were all the snide remarks in aid of the other day?' (In calm tones he hoped)
'Snide remarks?' She looked wide-eyed and innocent. 'What snide remarks?' (So serene, and so frustrating!)
'All that about me having boy friends.'
He didn't bother to keep his voice down. A couple of heads on the far side of the room turned, covertly, to look at him: he noted with savage satisfaction the tide of pink wash over Hermione's cheeks.
'You don't have to yell,' she said.
'Why? Isn't it the sort of thing you like people to hear?'
'What I like or what I don't like, why does it matter to you?' (How could she say that?) He was stumped, speechless.
'I wouldn't have thought' she said quietly, (needling all the same) 'it was the sort of thing you'd like people to hear.'
'I suppose that's why you said it?'
There was a pause. Hermione, with a keen interest, investigated her spicy salad.
'It's no difference from how it was two seconds ago,' said Harry. 'Why don't you answer my question?'
'I've forgotten what it was,' she said in a small voice. (How could she, with her super brain?)
'I asked you, what was with all the snide remarks?'
'They weren't snide.' (Oh, great, the question was not valid, now, was it?)
'Oh? So what would you call them?' (No childish bickering, he's not Ron.)
'They were just observations. Part of the conversation.'
'Ordinary, everyday, pleasant conversation?'
'Well -' she looked up at him, a hint of defiance in her brown eyes. 'It's true, isn't it?'
'What is?'
'You and Terry.'
'What about me and Terry?'
'Harry! --' her voice petered out. (Did she sound distressed? Good.)
'Is that what you really believe?' he said. 'I mean, if it is what you really believe --'
If it was what she really believed, then he might as well give up. (Did he mean that the only thing that mattered was what she thought of him?)
'There is no flaming justice in this world, is there?' he said. How could she believe that? He'd thought she knew him (how could she know? He had never dared to try anything on her. They kissed once, in front of everybody. Didn't it count?).
Hermione looked at him and then drop her gaze on the remains of her salad.
'I'm sorry.'
It was a bit late in the day for being sorry; the damage had already been done. He looked frowningly at Hermione, as she sat there, studying the composition of her greens.
'It still doesn't explain why you went and said it. I mean --' He swept his hair back out of his eyes. 'I mean, Merlin … in front of your family.'
Hermione swallowed. (That's a change, usually it was him who did that sort of thing.)
'I'm really sorry,' she said.
It was the second time she'd said it. It still didn't explain.
'I mean, even if you did believe it … why'd you have to go and say it?'
She humped a shoulder: 'Maybe I was feeling mean.'
Mean? Why should she feel mean, for God's sake? What was he suppose to have done (he had been trying to do it, plenty of times, hadn't he)?
'It wasn't because of that thing with Cho, was it? Getting engaged, and all? Because if it was, I told you … it was a misunderstanding.'
'It wasn't.' (Did he detect a reluctant tone?)
'Then what was it?'
She took a breath and looked up at him.
'You and Terry. At the party.'
Him and Terry? What about her and the Gawker?
'We didn't do anything at the party.' (He didn't.)
'No?!' suddenly she burst out with 'He was draping all over you, facetious and showing off. And, yes in that hateful 'lardy dardy' voice, … and he was, just so possessive!' (Had she been jealous, of Terry? )
'And that's my fault? Was I responsible for what others chose to behave?' (Hadn't he blamed himself enough for others' 'crime' back at Hogwarts?)
'No-, and yes, you could be. You were bantering...' She looked away, vulnerable and forlorn. 'You didn't do anything to stop him, did you? … It's not even as if you did much to discourage him, either.' (He hadn't been bantering, had he? Did whatever he had done or whatever he hadn't done, hurt her so?)
'Hermione,' he pulled at her hand, 'I didn't like what he did. I didn't mean to encourage him, either.' Tears were slowly coming into her eyes. (Don't cry, please. He was still the same Harry, wasn't he? … Besides, hadn't she subjected him her shattering display, at the party?)
'Hermione -,' he called firmly, 'what about you and the Gawker?'
She looked up, puzzled.
'What gawker?'
'Old Martin Redlegs, or whatever his name is.' (That had stopped the coming tears.)
'Oh! Martin.' That had made her uncomfortable. (As well it might.) 'Martin doesn't mean anything.'
He resisted the temptation to retort that no one would have guessed as much from her behaviour. He held her eyes (He didn't want to sulk.) and then he said:
'Neither does Terry.'
Hermione wrinkled her nose.
'Well, he doesn't', said Harry. 'You've just got a thing against him.'
'I haven't got a thing against him! I don't like him, that's all … he makes me squirm.'
'He doesn't make most girls squirm. Most girls go for him in a big way.' Hebe hadn't, of course; but then Hebe was unaccountable. 'Most girl thinks he's attractive.' (Hermione's not a most-girls, was she?)
'Then most girls must be raving potty. Martin said --' She stopped, aware, too late, of her mistake.
'What did Martin say?' (That gawker…)
She tilted her head.
'Martin said he wouldn't know what to do with a girl if he got one.'
'You mean Martin wouldn't too… great gawker.'
'What exactly,' said Hermione, side-tracked, 'is a gawker?'
'A prat,' said Harry. 'or otherwise known as arsehole.' He didn't tell her it was one of Terry's words. He felt instinctively, that it would not be wise. (Just like her mentioning the Gawker in front of him? Was she supposed to be upset about or even jealous of Terry, Cho, and all the other girls? Why was she? What made her to?)
'I thought it might be.' She tinkled just like Hebe once did (they did match a little more than names, Hero); Harry grinned. 'I'll tell you who is a gawker … ghastly Gover. Does it apply to women?'
'Applies to anyone,' said Harry. 'Martin Redleg, ghastly Gover … anyone you care to name.'
'Terry Boot?' she looked at him audaciously.
'All right, all right, suit your self.' (Was Hermione-indulging mood back?)
They bought another coffee along with two tofu burgers, which he had decided were quite palatable. (Now that he knew the Gawker was nothing.)
'Not bad, this hand-knitted stuff … tastes almost like the real thing. I guess you could exist just as well on beans and things.'
He picked up the topic of vegan food to pleasing her, but it was her mind now that was obviously not on the subject. As he was in the process of telling her about a Chinese restaurant in Knightsbridge having an entire menu based on tofu, she said: 'I've been offered a share in a flat for next term.'
'Oh?' he was interested.
'One of the girls is moving out. They'd asked me if I'd like to take her room.'
'And are you going to?' (What was he hoping for?)
'I think so, if Mum and Dad agree. They said they'd talk about it and let me know … it's mixed, you see.'
'Mixed?'
'The flat - four boys and two girls.'
'Some flat!' (Four boys?)
'Yes, it's huge, a mansion apartment on the ground floor. Actually --' She looked at him. 'one of the boys is moving out as well. I was going to ask if you'd like to take his room, but --'
'But what?'
'I suppose you won't want to, now.'
What did she mean, now?
'Now that you and Terry are both going to be in second stage of auror training … I suppose you'll want to stick together.'
For crying out loud.
'We're not Siamese flaming twins!' Just because they happened to share a room (or even to be friends), it didn't mean they were 'married', for God's sake. (What was she thinking?)
'But won't he mind?' said Hermione.
'Too bad if he does.' He had made no vows eternal togetherness with Terry. 'Where is the flat, anyway?'
'Highgate - quite easy for Hampstead Heath.'
Not that it mattered. He wouldn't have cared if it were south Wimbledon: if Hermione were going to be there, then so was he. (Did he forget the main reason why he had moved out Auntie Loveday's? Why was he so eager now to live in the same place as Hermione? What was he going to do? with her?)
'I'll come,' he said. (Come! Must he use that word?)
Still she seemed doubtful.
'Well? What's the matter? Don't you want me to come?' (want, come, again! What was wrong with him?)
'Yes, of course! I wouldn't have asked you, otherwise.'
'So?'
'I just have this feeling that Terry'll talk you out of it.'
Terry would not talk him out of it: he had made up his mind. (Give him some credit!) And it's definitely not Terry who wielded great influence over him, he didn't mind admit it, to himself.
If Terry were bothered by the news, he didn't let it show.
'It solves a problem, … I'd thought of giving this place up to go somewhere a bit upmarket.'
'Oh?'
'I decided, yesterday … I'm going to chuck the auror lark.'
'You must be joking! Why bothered going through the assessment if you are going to chuck it?'
'I didn't know then, did I? I couldn't contemplate doing auror stuff for the rest of my working life, I wanted to play the field more: start up a business, found an empire? Talking of which, do I take it that you have finally decided to give up chasing every female within sight and settle for the one that's been under your nose from the word go?'
He stiffened: automatically preparing to be on his guard. He resented Terry interfering with matters, which were no concern of his.
'If you mean Hermione -'
'Who else? I told you. Didn't I,' said Terry, 'that you were wasting your time trying to knock off all the rest of the rubbish when there was quality goods just lying around for the taking? Beats me why you didn't get stuck in there ages ago - she's only flesh and blood, when all's said and done. Why do you think she put on that floor show the other night with the Gawker?'
He still found that something a puzzle - she'd only said the Gawker didn't mean anything to her. (There, how did she give him the slip again? Hermione -)
'Why?' coldly, he shook his head.
'Don't be daft. She did it for your benefit, didn't she? With the intention, you buffoon, of rousing your masculine instincts.'
Harry looked at him accusingly, 'You said she was after gawkers.'
'I wanted you, didn't I?' said Terry, 'Honestly! What I did couldn't stop her or you, could it? Yes, I know you want her. Don't deny it, you dozy great yum yum! And she makes it just about as plain as she can, short of actually coming up and asking for it, and all old Dope can do is shake his head and look gormless. What do you want? You want it spelt out in words of one syllable? She-wants-you? She-fancies-'
'Fancies,' said Harry, 'is two syllables.'
'All right! So, you've spotted today's deliberate mistake! Give yourself a pat on the back and a twinkling star. You know what your trouble is? You walk around with your eyes shut, that's what the trouble is.'
'And yours is: can't resist shooting your mouth off about matters of which you are dead ignorant. There are times when you don't know what you're talking about.' (Did he?)
'You are rest assured, my son, human psychology is my strong point. I'm like a human calculating machine when my emotions are not involved. By the way, I'm going to be out Friday evening. Just thought you'd like to know.'