A/N
Just a heads' up, there are FIVE chapters left to this story. I know, it's all gone by so fast and I am so grateful that you've stuck around to read this story. How're you liking it so far? Have I sold you on Ron x Astoria yet? Is Ron...hot?
Anyway, if you follow me on Instagram, you will notice that I'm now doing a countdown so you'll know when I next update. So if you want reminders, then you can find me @/HEPBURNETTESWP.
Also, I've just realised that I haven't showed you my boy Theo yet! This chapter lines right up with Finite (please don't ask me for the 1000th time to post Finite, you know why I won't and I won't explain why again.) But because I know how much you like Theo, here's introducing—
Matthew Belle as Theodore Nott
x Noelle
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SHE SPOTS HIM the moment she enters the Leaky Cauldron. Bright red hair, tousled from his habit of running his fingers through whenever he's thinking or tense. His Auror robes, draped over the empty chair beside him, are just as rumpled. She's beginning to think that Ron will never look as flawless or spotless as the other boys she's known all her life.
And that's perfectly okay.
He seems to notice her almost immediately, because he bolts up, almost upsetting his drink in the process. She tries not to smile as she approaches him, but the grin on his face is rather infectious. "Astoria," he breathes, when she comes up.
"Hi." She settles down into the chair opposite him. They're sat in the corner booth, a good distance away from any curious eyes. She wonders if Ron's gotten this booth on purpose, because these seats are usually reserved.
Being friends with Ron is a bizarre experience. The young girl in her is simply thrilled to be in his company. After all, she'd admired him from afar all through her Hogwarts years. While everyone else had kissed Harry Potter's feet, she'd often wondered how anyone could overlook his ginger-haired sidekick. Good-humoured, snarky and seemingly fun to be around. She almost envied Harry Potter and Hermione Granger for having his friendship.
But the woman in her finds being friends with Ron more difficult than she ever expected. For starters, she's not so great at this friendship thing. Sure, she's had friends back at school—those who admired her for being Pureblood and rich and Daphne's sister. But she's had none of that unwavering loyalty Harry and Hermione have towards Ron; or the regard that Blaise, Pansy and Theo have towards Draco bloody Malfoy, in spite of all his obvious flaws.
The other tricky part is that it's Ron.
He's no longer the boy from Hogwarts. He's the war-hero-turned-Auror, a darling of the Wizarding World and, if the latest Witch Weekly Magazine is to be believed, the "Most Eligible Bachelor of 2004". (Okay, so Witch Weekly has also named her number seven on the "Most Eligible Bachelorettes" list, whatever that means. She suspects that Ron has something to do with this, but she knows he'll just laugh it off if she ever asks him.)
True to his words, he's taken this whole friendship thing very seriously. That means occasional Owls or Patronuses to ask how she is, invites to every party his friends have (which she steadfastly refuses) and, because she tries not to be seen in public, he shows up at her flat once a month.
"To catch up," he insists each time, as he holds up a bag of his mum's food. The food will smell so good, and his smile so bright, that she won't be able to resist.
Over the months, she peels off the layers one by one to get to know the person Ron has become. He's as fiery and enthusiastic as ever, with a wicked sense of humour, and a huge love for his family and friends. He's also terribly messy, has zero dress sense, and awful table manners that will scandalise her parents. Every so often, a hint of his childhood insecurity will surface, or dark memories from the war will cloud his eyes. Those are the moments when she feels the urge to reach across the table and take his hand.
She doesn't, of course.
Keeping her distance from him is of utmost importance, especially when she still remembers the night they shared. His long fingers drum a staccato beat on the table, and she's reminded of how they felt digging into her hips. He flashes her a hint of that boyish smile, and she thinks of the moment right before he pulled off his shirt. It takes all her Occlumency training to lock those memories up, and remind herself that the night was a long time ago.
They're just friends now.
She tells herself that once again when Ron beams at her and signals the owner of the establishment over. A vaguely familiar witch arrives to take their order.
"I'll have a house Leaky soup and a tea, thank you," Astoria tells the woman, after perusing the menu for awhile.
Ron snorts at her order. "A house Leaky soup, onion rings, bangers and mash, and a firewhisky."
She stares at him in amusement. "Are you really that hungry?"
"Ravenous," he returns, with a cheeky grin, and hands the menu back. "Thanks, Hannah."
Hannah smiles at them and leaves. Astoria stares after her with a puzzled frown on her face, and Ron seems to notice. "That's Hannah Abbott. Neville's girlfriend," he tells her.
"Neville," she repeats, still frowning. She's not very familiar with the people in Ron's year, save for the ones in her House. "Is that your Auror friend? The bloke who's fit as hell?"
Ron scowls. "Is he?"
"Isn't he?"
"How the hell should I know?" he grumbles. "Well, whatever. You should know that he's got a girlfriend."
"I know that. You just told me."
"I—" He blinks, then sighs and runs a hand through his hair. "You know what? Forget about Neville. Didn't you say you have some news?"
"Right, yes." She remembers the Owl she'd sent him the day before. It's the first time she'd taken the initiative to ask to meet him, and he'd responded with an immediate yes. She tucks her hair behind her ear and can't stop the smile that tugs at her lips. "I got a job at the Ministry."
His eyes go wide. "Really? Which Department?"
"The Department of Mysteries."
His eyes widen even further. He opens his mouth to speak, then stops to take out his wand. "Muffliato," he murmurs, wrapping the spell around them, before he puts his wand away. "Are you an Unspeakable?"
She grins, unable to hide her excitement. "Croaker and Shacklebolt hired me. The Board couldn't do anything about it, since the Unspeakables don't answer to the Ministry anyway. They believe my Sight will prove useful in interpreting or assessing the validity of prophecies. I start work on Monday."
"Congratulations!" Ron seems just as thrilled as she is. "I guess mine and Harry's efforts finally paid off."
"Wait—you did this?"
One thing Ron is awful at is lying, because he fumbles for a bit before he grimaces. "Yeah, sort of. But we didn't force anyone or anything," he hastily adds, when she frowns. "Look, everyone knows what you did to help win the war. It was all over the news during your parents' trial. All Harry and I did was put in a good word for you, and Andromeda could vouch for your skills. Anyway, if Shacklebolt or Croaker didn't believe in you, nothing we said would've convinced them anyway. But your Sight is invaluable, you're brilliant at mind magic, and you were taught by the best Occlumens to ever exist. Trust me, you got this job because you're good."
She kind of doubts that, but she does trust him. Acting on her impulse, she reaches across the table and touches his hand for the first time. Her fingers curl around his, and she gives them a little squeeze. "Thank you," she says softly. "I don't know what else to say but...thank you."
She makes to pull away, but he doesn't let her. Instead, his grip tightens and he weaves his fingers between hers so that they're interlocked. "You're welcome," he says, his lips quirking up in a tiny smile. His voice is a quiet, almost intimate rasp that makes her stomach twist, and he brushes his thumb gently against hers. Moments like these make her remember. His gaze holds hers and she finds herself unable to look away.
Sudden footsteps make her rip her hand away from him. "Here you go." Hannah bustles about their table as she sets down plates in front of them. "These onion rings are on the house. I asked the chef to add a little extra so that you two can share," she adds, then swats the back of Ron's head when he immediately makes a grab at them. "Ladies first, you pig!"
"Oh—ow! I know that, but Astoria doesn't mind," he hisses and rubs his head, then shoots a glance at her. "You don't, do you?"
"Well, who am I to rob a man of the love affair he has with his food?"
Hannah snorts in mirth and leaves their table. Ron simply grins and places two onion rings on her plate, before taking one for himself. "I'm glad you're working at the Ministry," he says mid-chew. She used to be a little appalled at that, but now she's just gotten used to it as one of his many quirks. "I can show you around the place, you can come to my office if you want to slack off, and, if our schedules match, I can take you out to lunch."
She blinks. "Really?"
"Of course. We're friends. Did you really think I would ever leave you alone?"
"I—" She falters a little, then shrugs. She won't look into his eyes, so that he won't see the lie in her own. "—I don't mind. I've been on my own a lot, anyway."
"I know. But you agreed to be friends, which means, like it or not, you'll have to put up with me." He takes a gulp of his soup and hums in contentment. "Bloody hell, I forgot how good the food here is."
She stares at him for awhile. Sometimes, sometimes, Ron says and does things like these which make her wonder if he ever thinks about them as more than friends. She decides not to dwell on it and nibbles on an onion ring. "How is work?"
"Shite," he says emphatically, and a smile tugs at her lips. He doesn't mince his words, that's for sure. "In between field work and paperwork back at the office, and then looking for Theo..."
Her smile fades. That's right—Theo. Just when she'd begun to believe that the worst was truly behind them, Theodore Nott had gone missing during an Auror mission. That had been five months ago. And no one has taken it harder than Ron, who was his partner when it happened. Although Ron tries to put on a cheerful façade every time he's with her, she knows better. This guilt will stay with him until Theo is found. "Still no news of him?" she asks.
"None. We found a dead body that we thought was his—thank Merlin it wasn't." His eyes cloud—and this is the darker side of Ron she knows. The one who's been in a war; the one who's lost more people than he can count. She resists the urge to reach for his hand again.
"He's alive. He's out there, in a lot of pain, but he's still alive."
"I know. Honestly, your Vision is what keeps us looking for him. Without it, we'd have no hope." He sighs and shakes his head, then resolutely reaches for an onion ring, as though convinced that food will make him feel better. Maybe it does. "You See a lot of things," he adds, lighter this time. He seems determined to move away from that topic. "Have you ever Seen anything about me?"
Her breath catches. He's never asked her this before. Her mind immediately spirals back to the first time she had a Vision. She remembers the soft look in his eyes and the smile on his face with aching clarity, and she studies him now.
So close.
He's so close to the man she'd Seen when she was eleven, and yet he's never felt farther away. She averts her eyes and picks up her spoon. "No."