AM I TOO LATE
Meet Me in the Afternoon
Chapter Nine
Hermione frantically pulled unused hair and facial products, Muggle and otherwise, out from under her bathroom counter. She tossed them onto the countertop and chewed her bottom lip. Her wet hair, hung down past her shoulders in heavy dark curls.
Her bed looked as through her closet had rejected every outfit in a wild frenzy, and now they were crumpled and smashed in different piles of color and fabric-and still she had nothing to wear. She leaned closer to the mirror and poked gingerly at the puffiness below her lower eyelids.
"Definitely have to cover those up. If only I'd slept better last night," she mumbled to herself.
She'd actually come home and gone straight to bed, only she hadn't fallen asleep for hours. Her heart would sink and flutter from moment to moment. First she'd think of Ridley-this new man. He was striking and definitely charismatic with intelligence to spare. Then there was Harry, and, holy Merlin, he had looked at her differently in the Bridal Shop. It felt as though he'd been looking at her for years and suddenly he'd seen her. And it made her want to run to him and throw her arms around his neck and breathe, thank you, God, thank you, thank you. I thought you'd never really know.
She cursed her thoughts for drifting into places they should not venture and set about smoothing a facial cream onto her neck and cheeks. Just as she finished dabbing concealer beneath her eyes, there was a knock on her door. She frowned into the mirror before grabbing her bathrobe. In her haste to get to the door, she forgot to tie the belt, and the crimson robe fluttered behind her as she walked.
"Coming!" she called as she hurried across her living room. She opened the door and was shocked to see Harry grinning at her. He held a large brown paper sack in one arm and what looked to be Muggle DVDs in the other. "Harry?"
Harry's mouth fell agape. He'd been smiling. He'd even been trying to convince himself that he and Hermione were just the same as they'd always been. But she stood before him, her wet hair framing her face, wearing an opened bathrobe and a short black nightie. He realized it was doubtful that nothing had changed between him and his best friend. She was wearing practically nothing, and his pulse was registering that observation…very easily in fact.
"Harry?" she asked again. "What are you doing here?"
"I…er…I…"
She giggled. "Always so eloquent, Mr. Potter. What can I do for you other than give you a grammar lesson…or perhaps simple instructions on the lexical structures of semantics?"
He shook his head as if to clear a lingering fog and grinned again. "Very funny. I brought food," he lifted the large brown paper sack, "and wedding organizer stuff."
"Food?" she asked as she tucked her hair behind her ears.
Harry tried not to stare at the smooth, paleness of her exposed skin, at the elegant way her collarbone emphasized her delicate features. "Er…yeah. Food. You do still eat, don't you?"
"Yeah, but it's almost half past one."
"So?"
"So, did you forget that I was meeting Ridley this afternoon?" she asked and opened the door wider to let Harry inside. "Here, give me those. Are these DVDs?"
Harry nodded and walked into the kitchen. He opened the refrigerator and pushed the bag onto an empty bottom shelf. "Well, they've been magiked into Muggle DVDs so we can use your player. And about the meeting, I guess I did forget." But he hadn't forgotten. He'd wanted to selfishly detain her. "Are you having lunch with Ridley?" The name slipped from his lips a bit too acidic for Hermione's liking because she frowned.
"No, and don't look at me like that. He seems like a nice man."
"I'm sure he is," Harry said quickly. He smiled at her and noticed how smooth her legs were as she sat on the nearby ottoman. His smile faltered. He watched her slide her palms nervously down her thighs. "Water," he croaked.
"What?" she said. She looked up at him in confusion. "I'm sorry, Harry. I don't mean to ignore you, but…well, quite frankly, I'm a bit nervous about meeting Ridley."
In the kitchen Harry turned on the tap and drank the entire glass of water before answering. "You don't have to go," he said hopefully.
She laughed. "Of course I don't have to go, but I want to go. Did you hear him say that he was actually interested in my works? That's amazing, Harry, and you know it. I'd have to drug you and Ron to get you to even listen to something I'm working on," she said playfully.
Harry frowned. "That's not true." He walked back into the living room and chose to sit on the opposite end of the couch as to not have to stare directly at her half naked body.
"Oh yes it is," she laughed. She glanced at the clock on the wall and jumped up. "I have to get ready, Harry." And then realizing she'd forgotten to tie the belt on her bathrobe, she blushed furiously and jerked it closed. "Oh my," she whispered. "I wasn't…I mean…I didn't…you…I wasn't expecting company."
"That's okay, Hermione," Harry said, unable to stop his cheeks from turning red from the sudden heat. "It's just me."
She nodded and hurried from the room. "What's in the bag you brought over?" she called from her bedroom.
"Food," he said as he leaned back on the couch and pushed his hands through his black hair. When he closed his eyes, he could see Hermione wearing a black nightie, leaning down and kissing his lips. He jerked his eyes open and clenched his jaw.
"I know that, you prat. What kind of food?" She grinned at him as she poked her head out of her bedroom door.
"Stuff to make pizzas and a bottle of wine."
She cocked her head to the side. "Wine? What's the occasion?"
"None," he answered, but he thought, friends, realizations, regrets, love.
When she walked out of the bedroom a few minutes later, Harry felt his heart tighten. Hermione looked as she always did, but there was a pink flush to her cheeks and excitement in her eyes, and Harry wanted to beg her to stay instead of going to meet some stranger in the library.
"I hope this looks okay," she said nervously. She smoothed a hand down her blouse and fidgeted with her earring.
"I'm sure it'll do the trick."
Harry leaned forward and placed his elbows on his thighs. He gazed up at her through dark lashes, and she caught a shiver of sadness in his green eyes. She smiled slowly. "Pizzas tonight then?"
"Yeah?" he grinned.
"Yeah. As long as you're cooking."
"Deal. Here, I'll walk you outside. What time do you think you'll be back?" he asked, lifting her coat and helping her pull it on.
"Hmmm…we should definitely be done by midnight."
"Midnight?!"
Hermione laughed at Harry's expression. "I'm kidding. I should think he'll be bored to tears with me in a few hours." She locked the door to her flat and dropped the keys into her coat pocket. "Five or six?" she asked as they walked down the stairs to the street.
"Sounds good to me. And then it's just us."
"And about 20 DVDs on wedding stuff," she added, and her stomach tried to knot again, but she pushed it away. She was, after all, going to meet a handsome, single man who was interested in her activist babbling.
"Right. Me, pizza, wine and weddings. What more could a girl ask for?" he teased, and she laughed.
How right you are, she wanted to add but didn't. "See you in a little while, Harry. Cross your fingers for me." She laughed again when he held up his crossed fingers. She waved over her shoulder and as soon as she turned, he uncrossed his fingers and sighed. Then, he walked down the street shaking his head, and he wondered what in the world he was doing.
* * * *
Hermione pushed open the doors to the library at exactly two in the afternoon. Ridley was leaned against a nearby stack and smiled at her. She waved nervously and adjusted the bag she'd slung over her shoulder.
"Hey," he said evenly.
"Hi."
"I see you brought your stuff," he said. He placed a hand on her lower back and ushered her to a table.
"Were you not serious about reading my things?" she said, and she blanched.
He chuckled. "Of course I was serious. Here we are. I got a donut, a danish, a bagel and a few cookies. I also bought hot chocolate and water." He pulled a chair out for her, and she thanked him as she sat down.
"Hungry?" she asked, and he laughed quietly again.
"No, I didn't know what you'd like. So, I tried to get one of everything. Other than the cookies, of course. And if you must know, I have an insatiable weakness for oatmeal cookies." He smiled at Hermione as he sat beside her at the table, and she relaxed somewhat.
"Well, thank you. That was really kind of you."
"Hot chocolate?" he asked. He pushed the mug in her direction but stopped when she bit her bottom lip. "Something wrong?"
"It's nothing personal, but I have this issue with marshmallows," she admitted. "I just can't eat them…they're too…gooey."
He chuckled again. "I never thought you'd be this funny," he said and picked up an oatmeal cookie.
"Me? Funny?"
"Yeah. I always thought you'd be serious. You write about such serious ideas and beliefs. Your work seems to leave little room for playfulness, but you…you're different. Has anyone ever told you that you have the most beautiful smile? It completely disarms me." He pushed his hand through his sandy blonde hair and grinned down at the table. "I feel so intimidated."
"What? Really? That's absurd. I'm not…intimidating," she stuttered in embarrassment.
"Not only are you beautiful and intelligent, you're also modest. Hermione, you are going to kill me." She laughed nervously. "Now, I'm embarrassing you. I don't mean to, it's just that I've wanted to meet you for so long and now that you're here…it doesn't seem real. And you're so much more in person."
Hermione fumbled with the strap on her bag and opened it in an attempt to keep her hands busy. "Well…thank you, Ridley. I don't quite know how to respond, which is an exception to the usual, I assure you."
Ridley placed his hand on the back of her chair, and she looked up into his pale eyes. Her heart wavered. "I want to be honest with you, Hermione. I'm sorry if I'm making you uncomfortable."
"Oh," she said and pushed her hair behind her ears. "You're not making me uncomfortable, I'm just not…not used to flattery."
"I find that hard to believe," he said honestly. "You're…amazing."
She reached out abruptly for the glass of water and slapped the cup instead. The water rocked and tipped the glass over. Liquid sloshed across the table and before she could do anything, Ridley has his wand out, and he cleaned up the mess.
"I'm so sorry. Bet you didn't think I was clumsy," she said jokingly as she righted the empty cup. He placed his hand on hers, and she glanced into his eyes, smiling shyly.
"I'm really glad I ran into you at the pub." He smiled genuinely, and Hermione found it hard to look away from his intense gaze. "You want to show me your new ideas?" He tapped a finger on her bag, and she nodded in response.
* * * *
Harry pushed open the door to the apothecary. His nose was assaulted with the strong scents of garlic and melting rubber. An older witch behind the counter wiped her hands on her blue apron and smiled as she adjusted the ribbon in her hair.
"Well, Mr. Potter, what an unexpected surprise. What can I help you with?" she asked sweetly.
"I'm actually looking for Ginny," he said, nodding at another witch who hurried up the aisle when she'd heard his name mentioned.
"Ms. Weasley? Oh, of course," she said in a voice that made Harry want to protest. "I'll be right back." Harry rocked on his heels with a book tucked beneath one arm, and in a minute the older witch returned. "You can go on back, dear. She's in the middle of a potion."
"Okay. Thanks," he said as he circled the counter and slipped through the Employees Only door. "Ginny?" he called.
"Back here."
Ginny was leaning over a cauldron. She held a spoon in one hand and a wriggling green plant in the other. She glanced up at him and smiled quickly before focusing back on the cauldron.
"It really stinks back here."
"Yeah, it's the stuff in the blue jug. Mr. Navadeaux needed something to keep the neighborhood dogs out of his trash."
"That will probably keep everyone out of his trash," Harry laughed.
"My thoughts exactly." She dropped the plant into the boiling liquid in the cauldron and sighed in relief. "Finally. What are you up to?"
"Oh, not much. I needed a quick bite to eat before I returned this book," Harry said nonchalantly.
Ginny raised an eyebrow. "Book? You've been reading?" she laughed.
"I do read."
"Something other than Quidditch magazines?" Ginny asked as she slipped her apron over her head and hung it neatly on a nearby hook.
"Yes, something other than Quidditch magazines."
"Well, that's definitely a surprise. I suppose I always assumed you couldn't read unless it was a play book or the history of Quidditch," she said as she sat down. Ginny reached out her hand toward Harry. "What did you get?"
"Oh, it's just a boring book I checked out last night. Nothing exciting. No romance, if that's what you're thinking," he said quickly.
Ginny crossed her arms and wondered why Harry seemed so agitated. "Well, if you didn't come by to tell me about your new book," she said, tilting her head to the side and attempting to read the spine, "why did you stop by?"
"Just wanted to say hello. I was over here, that's all."
"Well…that's nice of you." Ginny grinned and covered her mouth to suppress a giggle. She'd managed to read the title of Harry's book.
"What's so funny?" he asked.
"Nothing. Nothing. So, going to the library, are you?" She leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs.
"Yeah, that's right. I need to get this book back."
Ginny nodded and pulled her hair up in a make-shift bun using a pencil. "Isn't Hermione at the library this afternoon?"
Harry jerked his head in her direction. "What? Well, I don't know. I suppose she might be." And upon seeing Ginny's skeptical expression, he added, "Yeah, she might still be there with what's his name."
"Ridley."
"Ridley, that's right. Ridley Todd. Speaking of him, what do you know about him?"
Ginny nodded, realizing Harry had finally gotten around to the real reason he'd stopped by. "Not much actually. He's your age, I think. Tall, gorgeous, friendly, intelligent, charming, sexy-"
"-okay, Ginny, I get the point."
Ginny watched Harry's emotional battle ripple across his face, and she felt saddened. She knew something was changing inside Harry. She'd known him for far too long not to see it, but for the moment, there was nothing she could do.
"He's not you though," she added quietly.
"What's that?"
"He'll never be you, Harry."
Harry looked away and shifted on his feet. "What's that got to do with anything?"
She shook her head. "Nothing. Just an observation. You should take that book back."
"You're right. I should."
"And check on Hermione."
"And check on…wait, I'm not going in to check on her."
"I know you're not. You're going to return that book."
Harry nodded. "Okay, Ginny, I'll see you later."
She stood up and reached for her apron again. "Oh, and Harry?"
He stopped and turned. "Yeah?"
"Does Mr. Darcy end up with Elizabeth?" she asked.
"Who?"
She pointed to his copy of Pride and Prejudice. "The couple in the story. I think they're meant for each other. What do you think? Do you think they should end up together in the end?"
He looked down sheepishly and said, "Seems a shame for it not to work out somehow, doesn't it?"
"It does indeed. Have a good afternoon, Harry."
"Yeah, you too, Gin." And Harry turned and walked out. Ginny watched him go and shook her head. She wondered what in the world he and Hermione were going to do when everyone, including themselves, realized they were in love with each other.