Disclaimer: I don't own nothing'.
Harry Doesn't Know
Chapter 8: The Bad, Bad Rastafarian and the Not Misfortunate Robbery
WARNING: language, Dutch prostitutes, hash brownies, and bad spelling/grammar/fake accents.
…..
Hermione closed her book and let it lay on her lap. She looked around the cabin. Neville and Harry were both sitting on the bench across the cabin, heads lolled back and overhead lights turned off. Harry's head turned slightly so that his cheek was now pressed against the cold window plane. He had his arms folded loosely around his middle, and Hermione's mind, he looked absolutely adorable. She smiled to herself before Ron's shuffling paper interrupted her. Hermione's attention turned towards her ginger haired best friend seated next to her, overhead light on and eyes wide open. He grinned to himself, seeming to be totally engrossed in thick stack of old parchment. His body shook with silent amusement before turning to the next page.
"Reading some of Leigh's old letters?" Hermione ventured, shifting in her seat to get more comfortable.
"Oh, er... yeah. I was," he answered sheepishly, starting to fold the papers. The compartment went silent for a moment, the only source of sound coming from Neville's pitched breathing. Ron let out another low chuckle, "You know she said I might be the one?"
"Like, the one, one?"
Ron let out a bemused breath before looking into Hermione's eyes, then back down to the pile of letters. "Yeah, she said she had a pretty good feeling about it because the Ignacian acromatulas had hibernated early this year," Hermione raised her eyebrows at Ron, " I don't know, it must be a German thing but, now that I think about it, it's probably one of the sweetest things anyone has ever said to me."
Hermione slouched back into her seat. This was probably the most heart-felt conversation she had ever had with him, that didn't include quidditch, or Bertie Botts every flavour beans. And honestly, she was proud of him. Ron had the disposure of being a lazy, kind of egotistical, male really. She had always figured that Ron would be a playboy until he was 35. But looking into Ron's eyes now, after he had spilled his heart to her about some women he had never even met, she couldn't help but think he had changed. Hermione laughed softly, making sure not to wake the opposite side of the cabin. Ron gave her a bewildered look before she spoke.
"Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?"
Ron smiled shyly at her, "I know it's weird, and I'm a pansy-"
"No, no, no Ron, it's anything but weird... it's love."
Ron gave her another shy smile, his eyes finding then end of his trainers rather interesting. "Yeah, I just can't help to think I've mucked this situation up royally." Hermione sighed, shoulders sagging and her body still slouched in the seat. She felt partially responsible for what he did. Sure she didn't make him drink all that fire whiskey the night of graduation, but she did load the ammunition in the gun by telling him about the hole 'wind chime' thing and what did she expect Ron to do, not shoot? She was always right, and then how could she be so wrong about this Leigh woman? Ron looked up at her, "I have, haven't I?"
"Ron, you listen to me," she had sat up in her seat and grabbed both of Ron's hands that were twitching and fiddling with the old letters, "Yes, you made a mistake. But what's so great about making mistakes is that you can learn from them, and most importantly you can fix them! And that's what you're doing now, you've dropped your summer internship and bravely jumped into a situation that you don't know the outcome of. What you're doing is incredibly brave, and it's all for Leigh. When she realizes that..." Hermione blinked. How could she finish that sentence when she didn't know what Leigh would think when Ron showed up at her door? Hell, she didn't even know what the girl looked like! She knew what she wanted her to do when Ron got there, and hell if she didn't give her best friend a second chance with her she vowed to take a leaf out of Harry's book and brake the slag's stupid German leg. "Everything will work out Ron, you deserve this. You deserve to be happy." She let go of Ron's hands and leaned back in her seat confidently. Everything would work out fine.
Hermione paused, watching Harry hug himself tighter around the middle and lean into the window more. 'I hope I wasn't loud enough to wake him…'
"What about you?" Hermione tore her gaze from Harry to look at Ron. His sea blue eyes were boring into Hermione's searching her face for any kind of response.
"What about me?"
"Don't you deserve some happiness too?"
"What are you talking about, I'm perfectly happy." She didn't know when her eyes had somehow drifted back upon Harry's peaceful form ('Traitors,') but Ron definitely seemed to notice as he to had looked at Harry, then back to her. "What?" she asked agitated. Ron shrugged his answer. Hermione scoffed and rolled her eyes before she forced them to look away from Harry. 'Bloody hell, why can't people just stop hassling me about Harry! First its Ginny, telling me that we're a little too "close" for just a platonic friendship. Too close my arse! Me and Harry have always been close, it's just who we are. Then it's Lavender and Parvati, those slags, trying to say we touch too much. I can't help it if we're always in such close contact, damnit! We are mature young adults, we can handle skin to skin contact for Merlin's sake. Then, it's my mum who's owling me asking me if I'm ever going to bring "my charming boyfriend Harry" home. I don't think mum's first experience with a howler was a splendid one. Even Cho Chang, that mondo slag, had the guts to come up to me and ask exactly what my relationship with Harry was, and why he was always so protective of me. I'll tell you, she's lucky Harry came in when he did because she was very close to receiving the same curse her friend did back in fifth year. I'm not too sure Harry would've really appreciate that much...'
"Earth to Hermione," chanted Ron waving his hands in front of her face. Hermione jerked her head, coming back from her internal musings and looked at Ron.
"Huh?"
"I just thought you might like to know you're about ready to tear your book in two." Hermione looked down to see her knuckles a pearly white, and her fingers having a tenacious hold on her book on magical elements. She let go immediately, allowing her book to drop to the floor. She watched her hands return to their normal colour before Ron turned off his light and curling up in the corner of the compartment, head rested against the window.
"'Night, 'Mione."
"'Night Ron."
.....
'Oh. My. God.'
These three words have been wavering in and out of her brain for as long as she could remember. Her eyes were closed, and all that she was aware of was the soft and then hard, fast and then slow licking, kissing, and massaging that was being bestowed upon her sex. She let out a low moan as something wet played with her clit. She wanted to open her eyes to get a look at her surroundings. That was before something started pumping in and out of her, making her surrender all thoughts of rationality.
She arched her back, "Oh, god... don't stop."
She didn't know where she was. 'Must be in Amsterdam somewh- Oh. My. God!' She curled her toes and gripped at the satin bedding as spasms of pleasure raced through her whole body. She let out a breath that she didn't know she had been holding and tossed her head back roughly against the soft pillow. She was panting, trying to regain stable breaths when she felt hands climbing up her body. She could tell someone had popped their head out from the covers and was now resting on top of her. She released the wad of sheets that were balled up in her hands and moved them to her forehead, still trying to find a regular pattern of breathing. The person on top of her chuckled.
"Need an oxygen tank, do we?"
Oh. My. God.
Hermione peeled one eyelid back.
"H-Harry?"
"Hermione." He grinned at her. The type of grin the makes you want to tackle him on the bed and tie his hands to the bedposts so you can have your way with him. She opened her other eye and just stared at him, mouth agape and shocked expression. He was still grinning, which made all of his features more delectable. Like his extra-messy raven hair, dark emerald orbs showing lust and passion and something else Hermione didn't even want to take a guess at. His scar was hidden by his bangs, but was still a mere pale marking on his soft skin. He had some faint stubble on his face. Hermione reached a hand out to touch his cheek, her thumb running over the stubble. He grasped her hand and kissed her palm, still with that sly little grin of his.
"How- whe- wha-?" Hermione tried, but couldn't make a complete sentence. Her mind was reeling from this being Harry all along and her body still twitching.
Harry gave a low seductive chuckle, "Am I that good?"
"Yes." she answered automatically. 'Traitor.' she thought to herself. Harry's grin grew into a smile as he climbed up higher and positioned himself on the side of Hermione, both his arms pulling her waist closer to him.
"Good, because I'd like to do every day of the year for the rest of our lives." he placed a small kiss on her cheek. "Leap year included."
"Uh- okay." she gasped out as his hand travelled up to cup her breast. "Do I-"
"You don't have to worry about returning the favour, but if you don't mind, I'd like to start stitching little elf hats and scarves, be an advocate for S.P.E.W, and if it's not too much trouble buy you new books when ever I have the chance. Maybe I'll by bookstore for you?"
Hermione gulped. He was being so sweet and innocent how could she say no? "Uh, okay."
"Great!" he exclaimed, planting a kiss to her lips. He kissed her again, this time a little more forcefully. "Mi bello," he whispered as he kissed his way across her cheek and to her ear. "Mi bello," he dipped his tongue in her ear making Hermione giggle from the tickling feeling.
"Mi bello," said a husky voice. A small hand grabbed the other side of Hermione's face as a rough tongue slid from her neck line to her hair line. Hermione's eyes shot open in a matter of nanoseconds and her head shot to her right were the boyishly blonde hair and baby blue eyes of one Professor Lockhart was sitting quite comfortably, his mouth open and tongue ready to slide out again. Hermione gasped and took a lunge back into Ron, making him grumble in his sleep.
"Lockhart!?!" By now Harry was awake with alert eyes and Neville next to him shaking his head trying to get rid of the sleep. Harry stood up immediately with a menacing glare when he realized what was going on.
Lockhart grinned, letting out a laugh trying to ease the mood, "Mi scusi?"
The steel compartment door slid open, and again out stumbled a pantless Lockhart.
....
"Amsterdam: the drug and sex capital of Europe." Neville said lightly, taking in the surroundings. They had walked some ways from the station, not too overly excited with what they had seen so far (trashed allies, boring buildings, etc.). But then again it was only around 6:30. By the time they had walked from the station to where they were now the sun had disappeared beyond the horizon, people were piling out from what looked like abandoned buildings, and neon lights. Oh, those provocative neon lights.
Ron nudged Hermione in the side, "See, now this is beauty Hermione."
Hermione stood in between Harry and Ron, her backpack held dangling from her right hand. Her amazed eyes shown the reflection from all the lights. "I won't deny that, Ron."
"Damn, I was trying to get a 'you're right' out of you."
Hermione smiled and looked at him playfully, "Never."
Harry cleared his throat. "All right, the train doesn't leave until tomorrow, so where are we going to stay tonight?" The four stayed quiet for a moment, looking between each other. After a moment or two of silence, all eyes settled on Neville.
"Well, guidebook, we'll leave this to you." Harry clapped Neville on the back, making Neville's knees buckle.
"Er, okay, I'll just..." he pulled out his Krammer's and started flipping through the pages.
"Okay now, we don't have all night. Neville, within your possession lies the guidebook, therefore this is up to you." Ron had walked up behind Neville and threw an arm around his shoulder, "See that little bakery there?" He pointed down the street to a sign with glowing red, green, and yellow light saying 'The Ganja Bowl'. Neville nodded his head in understanding, "Right well, meet us there when you're done- I'm positively starved." Ron finished with a clap to Neville's back beginning to walk down the street.
"The Ganja Bowl? Are you joking?" Hermione was shaking her head back and forth, staring after Ron in disbelief.
"You know, Ron- always thinking with his stomach." passed Harry nonchalantly. Hermione gave Harry one of her don't-even-go-there looks. He answered with his award winning puppy eyes before quickly following Ron down the street.
Hermione scoffed and glanced back at Neville. "Men," she turned on her heel, striding to catch up with Harry.
"Um, okay, see you later!" Neville shouted after them. Ron had already entered the cafe, and Harry and Hermione looked to now be in a heated discussion. Neville sagged his shoulders helplessly, turning around to face the rest of the city. "Okay, here goes," pulling out his treasured guidebook, he began walking down the unpaved street looking for any signs of shelter.
....
Ron, Harry, and Hermione stood unmoved inside the entrance to the Ganja Bowl. A haze of scented smoke and neon lit signs were still lighted throughout the bakery, making it seem some what of a relaxed atmosphere. It was half-full, with people that looked more like locals then foreigners. They wore fat multi-coloured beanies covering their long braided and dread locked hair. Their eyes misty and round, all with happy and content smiles.
"How may I help you man?" said a mirthful deep voice from behind them. The three spun around to find a tall dark skinned man with dread locks and one of the trademark red, yellow, and green beanie's staring back at them. He smiled again, "Hi there."
"Hi. We're lookin' to get something to eat," proclaimed Ron. Hermione scoffed at his forthcoming.
"Ahh, man, you came to zee right place I tell you! Now we is having a special on zee bakery's special brownies."
"That sounds excellent right now," said Ron rubbing his belly.
"Uh, Ron-" tried Hermione, before being interrupted by the all too cheerful waiter.
"A good choice sir, right zis way," smiled the man, taking a handful of his pants and pulling them up to his chest before having them slowly slide back down again and taking the lead off into a secluded corner of the bakery.
"May I ask where y'all's is from?" asked the man over his shoulder.
"England," Hermione told him, not expecting Ron to get his mind around the close aroma of food to properly answer him. As soon as she spook the man stopped abruptly and turned to face her. He grabbed her hand and with his round red eyes looked unblinkingly into hers.
"I'm sorry." By the tone of his voice the trio could tell he had meant it. The three looked flabbergasted between themselves before continuing after the man and sliding into the booth he had stopped at.
...
Neville turned a street corner, his nose still embedded in the guidebook, no luck finding an up and open hotel so far. He had a run in with what Krammer's referred to as 'The best youth hostel in Amsterdam', but something had told him the rest of the group wouldn't be as susceptible to 'The Kinky Shoe' like others were.
...
Neville stopped outside of the door to The Kinky Shoe, the best youth hostel in Amsterdam. So far all looked good, and clean most importantly. The door wasn't' hanging off it's hinges, the sign wasn't flashing in and out of light, no trails of hung-over people's vomit on the cement steps, etc.
"Well here goes," muttered Neville, closing the book and opening the door. With a small chime the door opened and emitted Neville into the small reception room. Light mews filtered through the room, and looking around he realised about twenty cats frolicking, playing, hissing, and doing their cat business right on the rug, two chairs and desk that filled the area. Signs and posters were hanging stationary from the walls, giving the motel a suitable appearance. Even if one of the sings was a lighted stick figure taking a piss on the word 'Abstinence'. Neville gasped innocently before taking another brave step farther into the room, making sure to carefully step over the two cats that looked dead out of breath, panting furiously. Neville approached the counter, waved his hand skilfully through to cats that were giving each other death glares, and chimed the small attendant bell sitting next to a brochure of the best sex clubs near by.
"Hello," enthusiastically replied a plump woman springing from behind the counter. The woman looked as if she was wearing all the colours of the rainbow, with a red bra peaking through an orange halter underneath a yellow poncho and finally a light green jacket on top. Fake metallic blonde and bright pink braids sat on top of her balding blonde head. She had a cheerful sweet accented voice, the type of voice that sounded like it had been through years of voice training to get rid of the masculinity. Neville gulped. "And welcome to Amsterdam's finest, and most luxurious youth hoshtel." Neville noticed how she wiggled her eyebrows when she spoke 'luxurious'. "We feature one medium shized room, containing seventy beds, which can shleep up to 375 bodies a night." Neville's eyes widened and his mouth dropped in shock. The woman smiled as she continued, " There is no bathroom, nor is there one near by." Neville looked dumbstruck when he realised she was completely serious, "If you do not wish to have your valuables stolen, I shuggest deshtroying them or dishcarding them right now," she nodded her head up and down as the last two words. Neville gulped again. "You can also try hiding your valuables... in your anus." A cat in the background meowed violently. Neville's eyes were bulging, his mouth still parted. "This will deter some but not all thieves. Once your inshide, the doors are chained and locked from the outshide. They will not be opened again until morning no matter what." Neville jerked his head to the only other door in the room. Sure enough, four locks lined their way down the door. Neville slowly turned his head back. "Should a fwire o-ccur, due to the faulty vwiring or the fire-works factory upshtairs, you will be incinerated, along with the valuables you have hidden, in your anus." The woman gave a cocky smile with one wiry eyebrow raised, like she had just given a bloody declaration of independence. Neville, once again gulped, for lack of better communication. "Tips," she exclaimed with hands raised and showing of her few yellow teeth, "are greatly appreciated!"
The next thing Neville remembered was sprinting out of the hostel and running as fast as he could down the street, distancing himself from the woman's adam's apple and the lingering smell of cats.
....
"Oof!" Neville reached his hands out to balance himself. He grabbed hold of the waist of one very annoyed looking woman. The woman was a skinny as a rail, with a short minny skirt that would give Cho a run for her money and a small transparent belly shirt. She wore a black satin bra underneath the makeshift shirt, that Neville had found his face barried into.
"Ahem," the woman cleared her throat irritated. Neville tore his face away from her bosom, and forced himself to look into the woman's sharp pale eyes. The girl had a pointed face, much like the features of Draco Malfoy. She wore a great deal of make up, bright red lipstick along with curly black eyelashes and light blue eye shadow. Not looking very closely you could see a dark mole on her upper left lip. Neville straightened himself out, the woman looking him up and down and then smiling at him.
"'Ou are an American?" she asked struggling with her English.
Neville fidgeted, "Er, no- I-I'm from England."
"Ja! Amerikaan!" said the woman gesturing wildly. She now wore a huge smile, revealing dazzling white, short teeth.
Neville stuttered and began moving his weight back and forth on his feet, "Erm, alright."
"'Ou looking for za place to schay, ja?"
"Oh, yes, yes I'm looking for a place to stay. And I have some friends as well-"
The woman giggled seductively, "Don't vwe all?" She took a step towards him and sent one long finger with a five inch finger nail glued to it rubbing down his sternum. Neville could only fidget in his spot, letting out a small laugh as the woman still stared intently at him. "I know of a grrreat hostel, that should be... eh, very, accommodating for 'ou." She again smiled, giving Neville a full view of her pierced tongue.
"Zi am Natasha," said the woman, her hand still on his chest. Neville coughed nervously.
"Er, okay. I'm Neville. Lead the way," he gestured a hand in both directions. The girl violently grabbed at his right arm, and started tugging him down the neon lit street.
....
"Here you goes man," said the man coming back with a platter of dark brownie squares. Hermione was squished in between Ron and Harry who were staring at the food.
"Ah, thank you good sir!" said Ron automatically grabbing for one as soon as the plate was set on the table. Hermione nudged him in the side as Ron laughed at him.
"Where are you manors, Ronald?"
"What, I said ffank foo," he replied, not even finishing his sentence before stuffing a large square in his mouth. He chomped at the brownie twice before swallowing the remains. As the food made way down his esophagus he raised his eyebrows. "Whoa," he looked over at Hermione and Harry who were staring intently at him, looking for a culinary report whether to take a bite themselves, "scrumptious." He finished, eyes roaming back over the food and taking another mouthful.
Harry laughed at him, lifting his hand to grab one for himself. Hermione gave him an unpleased look as he raised it to his lips. He waggled his eyebrows at her and defiantly bit into it. He too was shocked by the everlasting chewy great taste.
"Man, it's wike a foufull of feaven!" Ron was still astounded, working on his fifth square. Just as he swallowed and Harry grabbed for his second, he looked over at Hermione, who sat unphased by the treats. "C'mon Hermione try one!" He shoved the plate in her direction. Hermione only pushed back against the booth, as if the plate contained anthrax or something.
"I think I'll pass, Ron."
"Hermione, will you stop worrying about eating a chunk of sugar and saturated fat and all things unholy and just take a bite, we're on vacation for Merlin's sake!" Hermione sighed, watching Harry neatly take another half of a brownie. 'At least he's not devouring them like an animal... like someone else I know...' She cautiously glanced at Ron who successfully succeeded in stuffing twelve squares in his mouth, perhaps a restaurant record.
"Fwaitor! Fwe are g'na need a'other forder!" Once Ron finished, he again looked expectantly at Hermione. After a couple seconds of a staring contest, neither one blinking and amazedly Ron not eating, Hermione sighed and Ron grinned his infamous Cheshire grin. Hermione looked to Harry for support, but unsurprisingly he was giving her the same look.
"See here Hermione, if you don't get off your high horse and willingly take a bite of a brownie," as if on que the man showed up, baggy pants and all, setting the brownies on top of the old plate, "Harry here will tranquilize you and force it down your throat." Hermione crinkled her eyebrow and looked sceptically at Ron. Ron nodded confidently then looked over at Harry and snorted, making both of them wail in laughter. Hermione scoffed and shook her head.
"Men," she reached her hand and snatched the top most brownie and hesitantly took a small bite. She chewed it slowly, as if it were poison before swallowing and gasping out loud, " Jesus this is delicious." Harry and Ron both roared in laughter, each taking two more and quickly placing it inside their mouths. Hermione had already finished hers and was grabbing for another.
"Fee! Fee 'Erminee! I fas fwright! Der date fwright?!" Ron was talking rather loudly, his head nodding up and down and fingers splayed out on the table. Hermione shook her head defiantly and looked at Harry smiling.
"No, Ron. I said they were delicious, you said they were scrumptious. Those aren't the same word," the last part was finished in a giggle as Harry let his head drop loudly to the table shaking with laughter.
....
"Um, Natasha, are you sure you know where this place is?" Neville managed out as the woman who had him gripped by his arm was continuing to drag him down a never-ending dark ally.
"Ja, ja! Ve ares only takings ze scwhortcut," she answered not looking back at him but continuing forward. 'Jeesh, who would expect such force from such a petite lady." Before Neville could have another thought he was being jerked sharply around a corner, making him stumble into another woman. The woman in which he ran into stiffened, but held out her hands to catch Neville. This time it wasn't as embarrassing, at least his face wasn't pressed against her breasts, but his left hand sure the hell was. Natasha scoffed, clearly irritated at the woman. Neville glanced in her direction and saw her with a pouty expression and a puffed out bottom lip, giving him an image of what Malfoy might have looked like when he was three and got the stuffed dragon instead of the stuffed pony at Christmas.
"Er, Neville, would you mind removing your hand?" Neville gasped and looked into the face of the woman who had spoken to him in such a familiar voice, a slight French twist but covered up with years of practiced English.
"Gabby!'" he practically shouted making Fluer Delacour's younger sister jerk back from the volume.
"Neville," she answered, glancing down at the hand that was still firmly pressed against her.
He immediately took his hand of her with a small 'oh' and a hurried apology. She laughed it off, glancing at the fuming Natasha behind her, "So Neville, what are you doing here?" She had finished looking Natasha up and down before turning to Neville expectedly.
"Hermione, Harry, Ron, and I, long story, but basically Ron fell in love, needs to get to Berlin, we're just along for the fun."
"Oh, well that about sums it up, eh?" Gabrielle and Neville shared a laugh before Gabby took another glance at Natasha, "Some fun you must be having?"
"Oh her, she is just showing me to a hotel were we can crash at for tonight," Neville smiled at her. It had been a few months since they had owled, Neville so busy with his NEWTS and Gabby a new exchange student at the new Mt. Olympus in Greece. He remembered how he almost hyperventilated he was so scared to ask her to Bill and Fluer's wedding a year ago. He almost decided not to when she came up to him the night before and asked him to escort her. He answered yes immediately, and a little loudly, making some of the garden gnomes at the burrow stir up. She giggled at his giddiness and gave him a lingering kiss on the cheek before departing. Neville didn't sleep much that night.
"Er, Nev, your in Amsterdam, the drug and sex capital of Europe, I don't think you're going to find a place to sleep tonight."
By now Natasha had had it up to here with this goody goody whore. "If vou don't vind, ve were going somevher." Neville tore his gaze from Gabby's lovely face, her soft baby blue eyes, and delicate angel blonde hair, to give an annoyed look at the pointed and pale, dull eyed and burned frizzed hair that was Natasha.
"Actually I do mind," answered Gabby for him, "he's not interested in your services, thanks." Neville gave Gabby a confused look, but she continued to smile at Natasha.
Natasha let out a loud screech, her long finger nailed hands curling into fists, still staring into Gabby's calm eyes with her dark and now flaming ones. "What do vou know vou French whore! I'm sick of vou slag's coming to our city and taking all ov our clients!"
"Hey, let's just be a little civil, shall we?" interceded Neville, finally finding his voice.
"Neville, she's a prostitute. She wasn't taking you to a hostel but to her pimp's notorious sex club, where she would have gassed you and turned your genitals into a wind chime." Neville's face burned slightly red when he heard he was about to be taken to a sex club, where women just openly flaunt their sexuality. 'Hell this is Amsterdam, I'm sure they all flaunt their sexuality on public benches. Hell the cats weren't even afraid to show it off...'
"Wait I thought that was only-"
"German women aren't the only kind." Neville looked fearfully at the prostitute who was now giving a him a horrendously big grin.
"Ah, but I 'ave been vound out. Well, since you shall not be paying vor my schervices you vill be paying vor my company vand time." Both Neville and Gabby glanced at each other, utterly confused, and slightly worried of what the tramp might do. Neville felt a slight tug at his lower abdomen but passed it off as nothing.
A few seconds passed of them waiting on the whore before her smile grew impossibly wider, taking out a large looking fanny pack from behind her back. Neville's hands immediately went to his stomach to find the padding of his travel belt missing.
"My currency colossomy bag!" Natasha cackled before turning on her heel and disapparating, which left Neville sputtering, running forward to where she had disappeared and turning in circles to see if it was a joke, ready for her to pop out of a dumpster and yell 'Boo!'.
"What! She was a witch?!" Neville shouted to air, not caring to lower his voice for passer-by's.
Gabby hadn't moved from her position, was instead looking at Neville and shaking her head, "I thought I recognized her from Beauxbatons. Crack didn't really do her loads of good."
"Do you think we should go to those sex clubs looking for her? I mean I had all of our stuff in there. Man, Ron is going to kill me," he was squatting now, his fingers entangled in his hair.
"Nev, you're cute when you're worried." commented Gabby smiling. Neville glanced up at her clearly giving her a your-not-helping look.
"Oh, what Nev? There's probably a hundred sex clubs in this city, half of them not available to the public eye. That's why you have street prostitutes like her to lead you to them." Gabby was looking quite amused at his misfortune.
"I'm screwed."
"Come on, let's go get something to eat. You haven't even asked me what I've been up to, geesh," Neville looked up at her unbelievingly. She still smiled down at him, "Okay, I'll buy." He let a small laughed escape his lips before grabbing her hand and walking up the empty street.
....
Five minutes and eight plates of brownies later (and also three attempts from Ron to shove his wand up his nose) found Harry, Ron, and Hermione in the same booth at The Ganja Bowl, Hermione sprawled between the two boys, her feet over Ron's shoulder and her head laying against Harry's chest. Sometime during the eating-fest Harry misplaced his glasses. 'Or perhaps they had broken and fallen off from me banging my head against the table so many times.' The thought made Hart start up a fit of laughter again, ending in small manly giggles. Harry laughing, lead to Hermione giggling and wiggling in her spot, which lead to Ron shaking in his seat with a hand pinched over his face.
"What's- so... funny?" gasped out Hermione before beginning to giggle again.
"I don't- I don't know!" Harry let his head fall to the table again, making the pile of plates rattle, which made Ron shake harder and harder. Suddenly Harry stopped, along with the rest of the table went quiet.
"I'm going to buy a Harley when we get back." Harry stated matter-of-factly, looking at Hermione and Ron with a determined look on his face. Ron split apart his fingers so he could see with one of his eyes to look at Harry.
"What's a Harley?"
"I don't know, but I'm going to buy one."
"Did you know if a horse throws up, it'll die?" asked Hermione placing a small hand on her forehead, still smiling what Harry thought to be a stunning smile.
"I've got the munchies!" shouted Ron to the restaurant, ignoring Hermione's random fact. Ron got up, leaving Hermione's two long, slim, cream coloured, 'Stop it Potter,', legs dangling in air. He ran over to the nearest display of food, which happened to be a young group of Swiss girls, took their side of fries and sprinted back to the table, stuffing his face with the fries as soon as his bum touched the apoulstry.
Harry slammed his hand on the table making Hermione jump and start giggling again, "Fuck buying a Harley when we get back, let's buy one now!" Ron laughed at him, fries spilling out of his mouth.
"You know I read somewhere that Bruce Lee was Hong Kong's 'cha cha' dance champion in 1958. Isn't that amazing for a man with such small feet?"
"Does anyone know where the nearest dealership is?-"
"Damn, it is so hot in here!" yelled Ron, cutting Harry off. He jumped onto the booth's seat and took his shirt of, rubbing his arms, forgetting about the half plate of fries that he still had left.
"'Ey mans, is it time for zum more of ze special brownies?" asked the waiter wobbling up to them, now with a long pipe in his mouth.
"NO! No way! You! You gave us a bad batch of brownies! You are a bad, bad Rastafarian. God, it's so cold in here! Do you mind turning on a heater?!" Ron started turning in his place, looking for someone to do something about the temperature, whether he wanted it hotter or colder, he must not have been able to decide.
"Excuse me Mr.-" Hermione had now sat up in her seat, but was still leaning against Harry. She was giving the waiter her most puzzled look she could manage. He figured she was having trouble pronouncing his name, the state she was in. He smiled to himself.
"Rasta..." 'Hopefully that triggered something in her brain' thought the waiter, taking a puff on his pipe.
"Mr. Rasta..." No such luck. Hermione now had both eyebrows successfully crinkled in confusion.
"-far-"
"Rasta-far..."
"-ian."
"Rasta-far-i-... Mr. Rastafarian. Have you ever wondered why dinosaurs weren't like...yellow! Or neon blue?! Personally- I think those archae-voodoowoodoo- whatever people, are full...of... shit!" She nodded confidently, looking around the restaurant. Many people were staring at Ron, who was well on his way of becoming starkers on top of a table a couple rows down. "Yeah, you Amsterdam-ianers... whatever... you people like the neons don't you? Mhmm, mhmm I can tell."
"DOES ANYONE KNOW WHERE I CAN FIND A FUCKIN' HARLEY AROUND HERE?!"
....
Neville and Gabby left the small cafe together, still holding hands and laughing at something funny Neville said. Imagine that, Neville said something funny. Gabby was beaming at Neville as she walked side-on-side with him. They wondered around for a while, walking through the more proper parts of Amsterdam, sharing secrets, talking about school and old memories and experiences. After about thirty minutes Gabby stopped at the entrance of a wooded path leading farther down through a abandoned park.
"Well, this is where I apparate back." Gabby was participating in a summer school camp, a program for the students in the exchange program. The rest of her group were staying in the ocean side town of Rotterdam, Holland.
Neville put on his saddest look, "Er… I-I thought you didn't have to be back for another hour?" He didn't care that he was really just robbed of all his valuables under an hour ago, he didn't want her to go.
She squeezed his hand and turned to face him. She was so close Neville could feel her soft, warm breath hitting the base of his neck. He was a year and a half older with a couple inches on her 5'5, which gave him the perfect position to gaze into her eyes without getting a pain in his neck.
"I don't. You know," she said barely a whisper, looking up into his eyes, " if you wanted to kiss me right now, I'd probably let you." She let a small laugh at the look on his face, "Not that you're being particularly charming or anything," she added sarcastically.
"My gran told me your not supposed to kiss the girl on the first date. Something about proper manors and being a gentleman or what not," he licked his lips nervously, smiling down at her.
"I think we're way passed that now," she grabbed the back of Neville's neck and pressed her lips forcefully against his.
….
WOOHOO Chapter 8 out!
Sorry it's taken so long, I won't even start with the excuses because there would be too many (sadly I don't think I can say my dog ran of with the final copy...) But anyway it's here and good to go. I have found time inbetween reading two amazing fics (Sun-Kissed Daisies by H/Hr Love & Finding Father by Ancient Werewolf... you should go check 'em out) to write a brand new chapter and then some.
Ok, I'd like to say, no Hermione didn't get oral from that fruit Lockhart, nothing exceeded heavy licking :]]
YES- Harry, Hermione, and Ron ate HASH brownies! They WERE high! Now I'm pretty positive JKR is going to hunt me down and tazer me until I wet myself for doing that but hey… everyone experiences it, right? [But I really am sorry if it does offend some of you, but hey, your reading a fic based off of Euro Trip… wachoo expect?!]
& YES- Neville and Gabrielle get it on!!! In this fic she is only a year younger because I didn't want to make it Ginny because then I'd be pressured to add her in as a main character and I don't want to do that and also I didn't want it to be just some random person off the street because personally I think Neville would get scared of the girl and run for the hills… so yeah this makes it easier.
Also, those of you looking forward to the H/HR goodness, it doesn't happen until the end! Yeah, I've made my decision and they are going to go through a lot of sexual tension to build up to the awesome, mind blowing sex they have at the end. If you don't think you can wait- wait for it to be completed then read this.
Err… I can't think of much else to say… so yeah peace hoommmies [:
-OLIV-
Wait, wait, wait, I remember something… my bad if the part when Neville get's robbed seems stupid or not funny but I don't know- it happened the way it happened and I'm much to lazy right now to go back and change the second half of this chapter… so sorry!
A'ight-peace
-OLIVER
please review if it's not to much trouble. i always respond and really like to hear what you guys have to say :D