A/N: Okay, here's the third chapter! Let's all watch as Ron makes an absolute fool of himself! *wink, wink *
Chapter 3
Harry knew bringing Ron with him to the Bison Witch Café was a huge mistake as soon as they walked up to the café front. With one look at the cartoon buffalo on a broomstick, he began to burst into hysterics. Turning redder than ever from lack of air, Ron could only sputter incomprehensible words. Harry rolled his eyes.
"Listen, mate. Maybe it was a bad idea bringing you here. Let's just take you back to the Burrow and-" Ron shut up immediately.
"No, I'm not going anywhere. I'm here to support you, Harry. I swear that I won't embarrass you or anything. " Opening the door, he ushered Harry in as he groaned inwardly. What had he gotten himself into?!? Not only was Ron going to possibly ruin any chance he had with this Hermione, he also refused to dress as a normal muggle. He looked absolutely mental in his big purple galoshes, white linen gloves, pajama bottoms with the Trix Rabbit on them, a big hat with a chicken on it, and a tweed raveled overcoat. Oh, yeah. He certainly didn't stand out. As they walked through the dining area, all eyes turned towards them. Ron didn't seem to notice the attention he was getting, at first. He talked to Harry, chattering up a storm about meaningless things, until he saw a man in his early thirties staring at him. Harry tried to stop him from doing anything stupid, but it was too late.
Ron jumped towards the staring man. "What-what are you looking at, do you not like the way I look?" He pushed his table, almost over. "Stop staring at me or I'll beat you up, you bas-" Harry jumped behind Ron and grabbed his arms to keep him from punching the man.
"Sir, I'm so, so sorry about my friend here, he's a bit hot-tempered. Excuse us, I'm so sorry, sir, beg your pardon." He grabbed Ron and physically forced him to a table far in the back of the café, away from peering eyes. He thrust Ron into a chair and glared at him murderously.
"What are you doing? You can't just go into a muggle café and pick a fight with someone just because they're staring at you! It's not that poor man's fault that you're dressed like Bozo the Clown! Get a grip on yourself and-Ron!" As Harry talked, Ron's head lolled to the side in an undeniable sleep. "What's wrong with you?"
Ron jerked awake and grinned sheepishly. "Well, I just might have had a firewhiskey or two before meeting you, but-"
"Ron, how much did you have to drink?"
"Oh, only a bottle…or two…Nothing bad!" Harry slapped his hand to his forehead in disgust.
"Great, not only do you make a fool of yourself, but you're also drunk on firewhiskey. Could this idea of mine be any worse?"
Ron just looked at him with a confused look on his face. "You know, Hair-ee, your eyes light up real pretty when you're angry." Harry just looked at him, choosing to let that comment slide as Ron burst into giggles-again. Trying to ignore his mate's insanity, Harry casually looked around the dining area, looking for the elusive Hermione. Where could she be? She was the only one in here yesterday… I hope she didn't get fired for what happened yesterday. Just as he was about to admit to himself that she probably wasn't there, he caught a glimpse of a petite, bushy haired brunette. He couldn't help the smile that spread on his face at her appearance. Although she was clearly dressed for business, she looked somewhat elegant, with a look of grace and humor right behind her smile. Her hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail, and it bounced from side to side as she scurried about from table to table.
Harry didn't even realize he was staring until her gaze caught his. He looked away sheepishly and felt his face blush as she came towards his table. Everything's going to be perfect this time, he thought right as Ron belched loud enough to shake the rafters. Oh, crap.
"Hey, Harry, Harry's friend. Nice to see you here again." She gave Harry a little smile, ignoring the big lump of red and gas at the other end of the table.
"Same to you, Hermione. This is my, er, my friend Ron, and he…" His "friend" quickly interrupted him.
"Dang, Harry! Now I see why you want to do her so badly! She's hot!" He looked to Hermione who was turning beet red and said, "You're a real pretty ladee." Hermione looked at him in disgust and embarrassment.
"OH, Hermione, I'm sorry for Ron, you must excuse him. He had a little too much whiskey before we came and-"
Ron jumped up on top of the table. "Firewhiskey rules!" Hermione looked at him in surprise.
"Firewhiskey?"
"Hell yeah!"
"That was something that was in one of my mother's stories! She told me this one story about a magically tavern in a wizards world. She said that they had "firewhiskey" so strong that a normal man could drink it and shoot flames out his nose! How, pray tell, did you ever hear about firewhiskey?"
Harry had to remind himself to hex Ron into oblivion later.
"Uhh, he just, well, That's what he calls it when he gets completely, stone-cold, drunk. Please excuse him, he's normally the nicest person you could ever meet!" Hermione smirked at Harry's embarrassment.
Ron just had to speak up again. "I bet your mother was a real, live, witch. Did she have any broomsticks that she flew about on?" To Ron, this was a compliment; to Hermione's world it was an insult.
"You are the most horrible, vile man ever! My mother was the best most wonderful person who ever lived and I am proud to be her daughter! How dare you come here to make a fool of yourself and insult me!" She brought the tray she was carrying down hard on his head. The sound of skull hitting board resonated throughout the restaurant and caused a heavy silence. Ron looked at the waitress in dumb amazement before falling in a dead faint to the table. Harry stared at the scene before him. Ron, the biggest prat of all time, had just destroyed any chance he would possibly ever have with Hermione. She turned to Harry and her eyes showed repentance.
"Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry, but he really is horrid! I would love to have you here, but would you please get him out of here?!?"
Harry looked at her remorsefully. "Here, I'll take him to his house and be back here in about fifteen minutes. I really would like to try some Bison Witch coffee, eventually." She blushed and then gave a giggle.
"Okay, take your drunk bastard friend home and when you return, a cup of coffee will be waiting for you." Harry gave her a little salute with his fingers and advanced to drag his friend away. He took him out into the alley and apparated them both to Ron's flat. He heaved him onto the couch and spread him out. Harry slapped Ron in the face, but he was out cold. Not really caring, he apparated back to the place he had just left. It was time for the third try.
When he stepped back into the Bison Witch, he realized that the restaurant was vacant. True to her word, though, Hermione sat at Harry's table with two cups of coffee. He advanced towards her and gave her a little grin.
"I'm so sorry about that…"
"It's okay. After yesterday, I'd say we're about even. Were you able to get the stain out?"
"Oh, yeah. I just used a little char--, uh I mean Cheer on it. Man, that is some good laundry detergent to use on stains!" He forced a laugh, hoping she hadn't caught his near slip. She looked at him doubtfully.
"Right. Oh, yeah, can I ask you something else?"
"Fire away."
"Okay. What is this about you wanting to, uh, "do me"?' She laughed as Harry turned the color or a Macintosh apple. "I'm just kidding, Harry."
"Good. I promise you I'm not that kinda guy."
"I didn't think you were. I could tell you were by, well don't think I'm crazy, but I could tell you were one of a kind by the look in your eyes. You have very beautiful eyes, by the way."
"Thanks. They're my mother's. She and my father both died when I was really little."
"I'm sorry."
"Oh, it's okay, I guess. I don't really remember them. Sometimes I just wish that they were here to see me, though."
Hermione gave a sigh as she cupped her coffee mug. " I know how you feel. My father left my mother and I when I was really young. I never knew him, but I was very, very close to my mom. Her name was Milea; it's Hawaiian for "happiness." That was really fitting for her. She touched everyone she met's life. She loved working here."
Harry patted her hand. "What happened to her?"
"She got diagnosed with leukemia when I was in tenth grade. She lost her fight a few years ago." She sighed. "Sometimes I miss her so much it hurts. I know it's kinda silly, but I always feel like she's still here with me, ya know?"
Harry smiled. "Yeah, I know the feeling quite well."
They sat in silence for a moment, drinking their coffee, until Melba called for Hermione.
"Mione, it's time to clean the tables, dearie." Hermione looked at Harry, apologizing.
"Here, let me take your cup." He started to pull money out of his pocket, but she grabbed his arm to stop him. "No, this one's on the house. I haven't been able to talk to anyone in quite a while."
"Thanks, Hermione. I guess I'll let you go so you can get to work."
"Yeah. Well, see ya around."
"See ya!"
She watched as he walked out of the Bison Witch, the wind teasing his hair, and her heart warmed for the first time in a long time.
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