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The Way You Want It by pottersweetie
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The Way You Want It

pottersweetie

Chapter Two
Strike Two

Author's Note: Thank you all so much for those review, I love them to pieces!

"I hate men."

I stare sadly at Robbie, watching as he gulps a glass of champagne, curled up in the fetal position. Normally, I'd correct him and point out that he's a man himself but right now I bite my tongue.

I move across the room and sit down next to him, putting an arm around his slumped shoulders and rest his head on my lap. I rub his back comfortingly, dreading what pain he'll have to endure tonight because of this break up.

After leaving Ron and Luna's I drove Robbie back to his flat in his car. He managed to give me an almost incoherent description of the fight he had gotten into with his boyfriend, David. Apparently David thought Robbie is being an ass towards him all the time now. David happened to call Robbie when he was in the middle of helping Ron transport all the fragile items from the dining room where the little kids had decided to make a fort. Unfortunately when Robbie picked up the phone he had to give David a curt, 'Can I call you back in a minute?'

Moving everything took longer than they thought and David called back twenty minutes later, furious.

He started screaming at Robbie about how he is so rude to him and he never pays him any attention. Which isn't true at all because Robbie takes up most of the space in his attention deficit addled brain thinking about David.

Long story short, David called Robbie a selfish bitch who needed to get his priorities straight. Robbie retorted with, 'If I get my priorities straight, I wouldn't be dating you at all!'

When I heard this I laughed out loud but Robbie just looked at me.

After they argued for a short time Robbie demanded, "If I'm so selfish then why are you going out with me?'

To which David replied, 'Good question,' and then hung up on Robbie.

Robbie's been trying to call him back all night, but David's ignoring all of those calls. No matter how many desperate messages he leaves on the guy's machine, and no matter how many sorry's he says through text message the guy is set on being broken up. And the fight sprouted from this guy's random accusation that came out of nowhere.

I'd say he was PMSing but, that doesn't quite make sense.

"Robbie, you're better off."

He shakes his head, "No I'm not. I screwed up and I-"

"You didn't do anything!" I nearly shout. "David was overreacting."

"He's never going to take me back," he says.

This is when he starts crying.

I'm rendered speechless for a minute. As long as I've known Robbie he's been the one comforting me, the one drying my tears and rubbing my back. I've never seen him cry, I've never even seen him sad. Every other time he's broken up with someone he would always say, 'It's only an opportunity to meet someone better and hotter.' And now he's crying because of this jerk's reaction?

"Oh Robbie," I say.

He sits up and I hug him tightly.

"It'll be okay," I tell him as his whole body shakes against mine. "You just have to let him cool off, talk to him tomorrow and explain everything to him, he'll understand."

Robbie swallows, "What if he doesn't?"

"He will, I'll make him."

He laughs a little, "Are you sure?"

"Robert, I'm never wrong."

He looks at me and smiles sadly, wiping his face on the blanket settled around him.

"Thanks Granger, no one's ever listened to me cry to them before."

"You've done it enough for me," I squeeze his hand. "I owed you the favor."

He smiles.

"I know what will cheer you up," I say.

"What?"

I grab his car keys and gesture towards the door.

______________________________________________________________________________

It's two thirty in the morning when Robbie finally falls asleep on the couch. I cover him in the blanket tangled around his ankles and he squirms around for a minute, squeezing the pink CareBear we bought him at a corner toy store only a few hours ago.

I pick up the carton of melted ice cream on the coffee table and the two nearly empty bottles of champagne and tuck them under my arm, grabbing the bag of gummie bears and the empty popcorn bowl and the heart shaped box that was filled with chocolate truffles only four hours ago and go into the kitchen. After cleaning up the rest of the room I take my mobile phone and go into the bathroom, closing the door behind me.

I punch in Harry's number and wait as it rings.

I wait for the voicemail but am surprised to find Harry answering, groggy and a little disoriented.

"Harry!" I whisper. "I didn't expect you to answer, I was going to leave you a message. Did I wake you up?"

He coughs, "Yes, but I'm glad you did," he yawns and I smile to myself. "How's Robbie?"

"Horrible. It took me two and a half chick flicks a whole carton of chocolate ice cream, gummie bears, chocolate truffles, caramel popcorn, and a pink Carebear to get him to finally stop crying long enough to go to sleep," I tell him.

Harry coughs again, "Poor guy."

"I know," I look around the dark bathroom, bathed in pale moonlight. "You had something to ask me?" I remember.

"Oh-um," he doesn't sound so tired anymore. "It can wait."

I knot my eyebrows, "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, don't worry about it."

"All right," I say. "Well I'm going to crash here so I can see how Robbie is in the morning, go back to bed sleepy."

He laughs, "All right, call me tomorrow."

"Just give me a ring when you wake up tomorrow," I say.

"What?" he says, almost shocked.

I knot my eyebrows again, "Call me tomorrow?"

He laughs nervously, "Oh right, I will."

I laugh, because I don't know what else to do, "Goodnight."

______________________________________________________________________________

When I wake up the flat smells like pancakes, onions, burnt toast, coffee, and tea.

I find Robbie in the kitchen, dressed and showered, making a five course breakfast. He's singing Respect by Aretha Franklin and dancing around the kitchen as he cooks some bacon in a pan.

"What are you doing?" I blurt out.

He looks up and smiles brightly, "Morning sunshine! Want some breakfast?"

I don't even have time to answer, he's immediately handing me a plate heaped with food. I sit down at the breakfast counter and he hands me a fork. I stare at him as if he's a ticking-time-bomb while I chew slowly on some scrambled eggs. I want to ask him why he's dancing around his kitchen making breakfast when last night he was crying hysterically, demanding why every guy can't be like Matthew McConaughey. But I don't say anything, if I mention it he might become depressed again.

"Um, Robbie, are you okay?"

He stops dancing and puts his hands on his hips, "If you're referring to what's-his-name, I've decided if he wants to be irrational then he can be," he shrugs. "I'm not going to waste my time on him."

I wonder if I should believe him, if he's just hiding his sadness. Like maybe he realized he actually showed his feelings last night and proved that he was human, and this morning he's decided he can't do that and is back to making everyone else happy.

"Good for you!" I say, raising my glass of orange juice to him, silently agreeing to watch him closely if this argument doesn't blow over soon.

"So," he says. "What are you doing today?"

I sigh, "I don't know. Maybe I'll hang out with Harry a little, he's not supposed to be working today."

"Ooooooh," he says.

"He was acting really weird yesterday," I say, worry nipping at my brain. "Do you think there's something wrong?"

Robbie shakes his head, a knowing glint reveals itself in his eye, "I'm sure it's nothing," he smirks before he can hide it.

"It is something!" I say. "You know something Robbie! It's that bloody surprise, what is it?!"

"Nothing!" he shouts. "Nothing at all."

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After going home, showering and getting dressed I drive over to Harry's flat. As I'm walking up to the building he walks out.

"Harry!" I say.

When he sees me his face brightens, "Hermione! What a surprise," he gives me a quick kiss.

"Can we talk now?" I ask, wanting desperately to find out what this surprise is.

His face falls, "I really wish I could, I have to go to work though."

I frown, "Do you know when you'll be done?"

He shakes his head, "No idea," he sighs. "I promise I'll call you when I get home and we'll talk then, okay?"

I smile, batting my eyelashes, "You sure I can't convince you to take a sickie?"

He laughs, "Damn I wish I could," he puts his hands on my waist. "I'll get back as soon as I can, all right?"

I nod, even though I can't wait much longer to find out what the hell is going on!

Author's Note: This was a filler chapter, no doubt about it. The question will be asked during the next chapter, don't worry!