AM I TOO LATE
The Ugly Truth
Chapter Sixteen
The sun shone blissfully warm. After an hour of soaking up the heat and listening to the crashing waves, Hermione had finally begun to relax. A shadow cast across her face, stretched over her towel and onto the white sandy beach. She opened her eyes.
Ridley smiled down at her before kneeling in the sand. "Enjoying yourself?"
"Yes," she said honestly.
"I had room service deliver us lunch," he said. "Hungry?"
Hermione placed a hand on her stomach before propping up on her elbows. "You know, I think I am."
"Great," he said with a smile.
Ridley pulled Hermione to her feet and they strolled to their hotel. Ridley had reserved a room on the bottom floor so they had easy access to the pool and beach area. Tropical plants magicked to bloom and flourish all year shaded the boardwalk.
"It's so beautiful here," Hermione said wistfully as Ridley opened the french doors on their balcony. He followed her inside their room.
"You're beautiful," he said. Hermione glanced at Ridley and blushed.
"Thank you," she responded quietly. She noticed fruit spread out across a pewter tray. Two domed lids covered something that smelled incredibly appetizing. Before Hermione could walk toward the table, Ridley reached for her hand.
He tugged her close to him and she didn't protest. He leaned down close to her lips and whispered, "You are so beautiful." He kissed her softly and waited to see how she would respond.
Hermione's initial response was hesitation. Her body felt rigid and she wanted to pull away, but she knew she could no longer allow her lingering feelings for Harry to disrupt a perfectly good opportunity with Ridley.
She slid her hands up his chest and felt her shoulders relax. Ridley deepened the kiss, and in a matter of moments, he had moved them to the bed. He leaned over her body, and Hermione's heart pounded fiercely, but she seemed unable to stop. Perhaps some part of her didn't want to stop…only wanted to bury her sadness in rushed kisses and groping hands.
Ridley's hands were all over her, and she was unable to catch her gasping breath…that was until he kissed down the sensitive skin of her neck and two simple words popped into her head. Oh Harry.
Hermione eyes jerked open and she pushed her hands hard against Ridley's chest. He panted and looked confused.
"What's wrong?" he asked breathlessly. "Did I hurt you?"
Hermione continued to push Ridley away until she could swing her legs off the bed. She covered her face in her hands.
"Oh, God, oh God, oh God," she muttered.
Ridley placed a hesitant hand on her back. "Hermione," he said cautiously, "what's wrong?" He rubbed his hand down her spine. "I'm sorry if I was moving too fast. I didn't mean to-"
"-it's not you, Ridley," she said.
"Then…what is it?"
"It's me," she said. Hermione rose from the bed and walked to the french doors. She could hear the ocean rolling into shore. "It's me." Tears prickled her eyes.
Ridley didn't move from the bed. He sat and stared at her back, waiting.
She turned to him and swiped at her tears. "You are so wonderful to me," she said. "You make me feel so good, so attractive. Merlin, knows you're sexy and your kisses are amazing."
"Then…" he paused and pushed a hand through his hair, "what's the problem?"
Hermione bit her bottom lip. She wrestled with the truth, with revealing such an earth-shattering truth to someone she barely knew. The complications of telling Ridley seemed worse than lying, but like Harry had always told her, she was a terrible liar. Hermione sighed.
"I'm in love," she said. Her shoulders sagged forward.
Ridley looked dumbstruck. "I don't understand."
"With Harry," she whispered and wiped at more tears.
"Potter?"
Hermione nodded.
"But he's getting married."
More tears spilled down Hermione's cheeks. "I know."
"Does he know?"
Hermione shrugged. "Possibly, but we've never talked about it," she said. "I am so sorry, Ridley. I am. I sincerely care for you, and I…I…"
"Wanted to give me a chance?" he asked hopefully.
"Yes," she said honestly.
"But you have nothing left to give?"
"Not at the moment."
Ridley nodded. "I understand."
"You do?" Hermione asked in shock.
"Sure," Ridley said. "How can I compete with The Bloody Boy Who Lived?"
"Ridley," Hermione breathed.
"Don't," he said. "Let me wallow in my bitterness for a moment."
Hermione covered her face and began to cry. Everything felt so completely unraveled and hopeless. Ridley wrapped his arms around her.
"Don't cry, love," he whispered as he rubbed his hand up and down her back.
"How can you be so nice to me?" she asked.
"What would you prefer?" he said gently. "That I stomp around and make you feel worse than you already do?"
"Yes," she said. "I would deserve that."
"You deserve a man who knows how amazing you are," he said seriously.
Hermione pulled away from Ridley. "You're right," she said sadly. "I know you're right, but…but I'm foolish."
"You're not foolish," Ridley said. "Harry's the fool." When Hermione shook her head in disagreement, Ridley smoothed his fingertips down her wet cheeks. "Beth pales in comparison to you, Hermione. You are everything she will never be."
Hermione sighed. "You don't hate me?"
Ridley grinned. "Never," he said. "I only have one regret."
"What's that?"
"That you didn't wait a few minutes longer. You were so close to charming my pants off."
Hermione blushed furiously and Ridley's sincere laughter pulled a smile from her lips.
"Thank you," she whispered.
"You should eat before you go," he said and motioned toward the untouched platter of food.
"If I wasn't in love with Harry, I would have no qualms about charming your pants off," she said boldly and then blushed as Ridley's eyebrows rose up his forehead.
* * * *
Harry marched up to the front desk of Palace de la Mar in Valencia. The witch behind the desk smiled at him as her eyes passed up to his scar and back to his focused green eyes.
"I'm looking for Ridley Todd," Harry said firmly. The witch nodded but said nothing. "I need his room number."
"I'm sorry," she said apologetically, "but we are not allowed to give out our guest's room numbers."
Harry had never used his fame as a weapon, but he was desperate. "Do you know who I am?"
Her eyes passed once more up to his scar and she nodded faintly.
"Listen," Harry said, leaning forward on the desk, "I don't want to cause any trouble here. The truth is that Ridley Todd is here with my best friend, Hermione Granger, and it's imperative that I speak with her. Can you understand that? I'm not a troublemaker. Surely you know that."
The witch blushed and nodded her head in understanding. She leaned close to Harry and whispered conspiratorially, her English heavily accented, "It will be our secret. They are in room 115."
"I owe you one," Harry said as he dashed off.
* * * *
"Come in," shouted Ridley and Harry pushed open the door of room 115. A balmy ocean breeze caught him in the face.
Harry noticed two plates of eaten food and the green tips of nibbled strawberries piled on the edge of a pewter plate of fruit. Ridley lay back on the pillows of a King-size bed. The sheets were crumpled and a half full wine glass sat on an end table while Ridley cradled the bottle of wine in his hands. Harry didn't even want to focus on the messy bed sheets or the wine glass, but his imagination surged forth uncontrolled.
"Potter," Ridley said slowly, "what a surprise."
"I need to see Hermione," Harry said, glancing around the room and not seeing her anywhere.
Ridley cast his eyes over to the adjacent pillow and then to the wine glass on the end table. Harry followed his gaze. He glanced back at Harry.
"You're too late," he slurred.
"Too late for what?" Harry asked curiously, noticing the glazed look in Ridley's blue eyes.
"Too late to have her."
Harry assumed Ridley meant he and Hermione had already had something happen in the bed, and his stomach dropped and puddled around his trainers.
"Are you drunk?"
"Does that matter?"
"Where's Hermione?" Harry demanded as Ridley pushed himself up on the pillow. Wine spilled on the white linens.
"You're too late, Potter," Ridley spat bitterly. "Didn't you hear me?"
"Where is she?"
"Gone."
"Gone where?"
"Back," Ridley said. "She left. Went back home."
"But…why?" Harry asked, surprised.
Ridley glared at him. "Isn't it obvious?"
"No," Harry said honestly.
"Bloody hell, Potter," Ridley said, "are you really that thick?"
Harry's temper flared. He gripped his wand tightly. Ridley shook his head and tried three times to prop the wine bottle on the table before he succeeded.
"Don't you know, Potter?" Ridley asked. "Didn't anybody tell you that it's wrong to make girls fall in love with you if you're engaged?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," Harry said, watching Ridley closely as the drunken Seeker stumbled around the edge of the bed.
"Sure you do," Ridley said. "Hermione. Let's talk about Hermione. I'm crazy about her. She's crazy about you-"
"-me?"
"And you're engaged," Ridley said, ignoring Harry. "Doesn't that seem a bit wrong to you, Potter?"
"Why did Hermione leave?" Harry asked quietly.
Ridley stared at him, his blue eyes distant and sad. "Because she's in love with an idiot."
A tiny shred of hope bloomed in Harry's chest. "Me?"
Ridley sighed and reached for a slice of apple. "Of course," he answered. "Now get out of here so I can hate you in peace."
Harry nodded, said nothing, and Apparated.
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