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romione-trope-fest · 6 months

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The Girl From The Bar

Title: The Girl From The Bar

Author: Be11atrixthestrange

Trope: Muggle AU

Summary: While studying at a coffee shop, Ron spots a missed connection from years ago.

Word Count: 2015

Rating: M

—

-Four Years Ago-

The Leaky Canteen was a total dive. As much as the Weasleys wanted it to be a high-end establishment, it simply wasn’t, and it would never be. Grime and dirt lived on the floor permanently, no matter how hard Ron scrubbed and mopped at bar close. The upholstery on the booth benches ripped and frayed, revealing the discolored foam underneath, the paint peeled from the walls, and there was a permanent smoky stench that permeated the air, even though there were strict rules against smoking indoors.

That aside, the bar managed to remain a hot spot on Friday and Saturday nights. Maybe it was the centralized location, the event calendar that was always too packed to staff appropriately, or the fact that they offered half-priced cocktails to all hen and stag parties. Scratch that, it was definitely the half-priced drinks. That was the reason that it was always bursting with loud, messy, disrespectful patrons, yet still struggled to profit enough each month to pay the lease.

“Another Gold Rush please!”

Ron glanced over his shoulder to see a blonde girl, probably mid-twenties, leaning against the bar. The bartop, which was still wet with a combination of beer, vodka, and water, left a dark mark across her dress, but she didn’t seem to notice. One hand held an empty cocktail glass, while the other clutched the countertop for stability as she teetered to the side.

“You doing okay?” Ron threw his dish towel over his shoulder and propped his elbows onto the bar to look her in the eye. As he had predicted, her pupils were as wide as saucers.

“Sogood,” she slurred, flashing him a smile. “Havingsomuchfun.”

“Gotcha,” said Ron, rising to his feet. “One Gold Rush, coming up.”

He reached for a coupe glass and a boston shaker, and filled the shaker with lemon juice, orange juice, and honey syrup. He eyed the bourbon whiskey, which the cocktail would normally call for, but instead traveled to the refrigerator, where a small container of chopped jalapenos was waiting. He used a pair of tongs to plop one into the shaker, and a muddler to smash it up.

A bit of ice and a few shakes later, the blonde was happily shuffling back to the dance floor, her drink dripping down her hand.

While rinsing the shaker, Ron half watched the flock of girls clad in feather boas and sparkly dresses laughing and bouncing in the middle of the bar. It wasn’t technically a dance floor as the Canteen wasn’t a nightclub, but the weekend crew didn’t seem to notice or care that there wasn’t an official DJ. In fact, Ron was just playing a random Spotify playlist, complete with the internet’s favorite early 2000’s dance hits. He didn’t even pay for the premium subscription, and the crowd was too drunk to notice they were dancing to car insurance advertisements between songs.

“Interesting choice with the jalapeno.”

Ron looked toward the voice to see another girl sitting at the other end of the bar. Her phone was lying on a towel on the counter, screen up, as she scrolled with one hand.

“Shit, didn’t see you there.”

The girl laughed. Ron took in her appearance. Like the other girls on the dance floor, she was wearing a sparkly dress, but the way she tensed up underneath the fabric suggested she’d be more comfortable in a pair of jeans. Her long brown hair formed tight curls that landed halfway down her back. Her makeup was simple and natural, and her deep brown eyes looked like he could get lost in them. She was beautiful, in an effortless, understated way.

“When you’re completely smashed, it’s hard to tell the difference between the kick of a jalapeno and the bitterness of bourbon.”

“Ahh.”

“And she was completely smashed.”

The girl nodded. “I agree. I was actually coming over to suggest she drink water for the rest of the night, but it looks like you were on it.”

Ron smiled. “Part of the job.”

The girl turned back to her phone, and Ron felt a flash of disappointment. He frequently craved sober conversation during his long weekend shifts, and the fact that she was beautiful was a plus.

“So, how’s the hen party?”

She glanced up. “It’s fine. I was actually about to head out soon. We’ve been partying since noon.”

Ron snuck a peek at her phone and recognized the uber app. “They’ll miss you if you leave.”

She laughed. “No they won’t.”

“I take it you’re friends with the bride?” asked Ron.

“Hannah? She’s my roommate.”

“But not your friend?”

The girl shrugged. “Well, both. Since she got engaged I don’t see much of her, to be frank.”

So, she’s single. “I know how you feel. Well, sort of.”

The girl raised an eyebrow.

“My roommate just proposed to my sister. But now I see too much of them.”

She smiled. “That must be awkward.”

“A little. Part of the reason I take Saturday night shifts so often.”

The girl looked back at her phone, and Ron’s stomach sank, willing her to keep talking. He felt his palms sweat when she closed out her phone, plopped it into her pocket, and looked back up at him. “Rideshare surcharges are insane right now.”

“It happens,” said Ron, trying to sound casual, and not overly excited. “Probably best to wait on the uber.”

“You’re probably right.”

“So, can I make you a drink?” he offered.

Her face brightened. “I’ll try that jalapeno one that you made for Hannah.”

“Coming right up.”

Ron disappeared behind the back door to gather his ingredients, and hoped he had managed to hide the blush creeping up his neck. There was a lightness in his movements that he hadn’t felt in a very long time, and he formed a genuine smile at the thought of spending more time with this girl.

Frankly, things weren’t going so well in the relationship category as of late. He and Lavender had broken up just a few weeks ago, and she was still in the process of moving out of Grimmauld place. They were only living there temporarily while they searched for their own apartment together, much to Harry’s annoyance. They had been looking for the perfect flat for months, and finally found one close enough to school and work that miraculously fell within their budget. But the day before they were supposed to sign the lease, she left him.

He honestly didn’t know why, but he assumed she had met someone else. All the talk about it being too big of a step, and her not feeling comfortable living together felt like reasons to postpone apartment-hunting rather than end the relationship entirely. But what was he going to do, beg her to stay? He didn’t want to be with someone who didn’t want him.

But it didn’t make it hurt any less.

Now Lavender would get to live in that big apartment by herself, and Ron would still be stuck at Grimmauld Place with Harry. As if to rub salt in the wound, Harry proposed to his sister a few days later Now he found himself third wheeling with the star crossed lovers almost every weekend since then, which only served to remind him how single he suddenly was.

That was the reason he had taken so many Saturday shifts at The Canteen.

Fred and George insisted he needed a rebound, and working at the bar was the perfect way to do that. Ron disagreed. He wasn’t one to take a random stranger home with the intention of using her to forget about someone else. He just wanted a distraction. Someone to talk to.

The non alcoholic Gold Rush nearly made itself as Ron got lost in his thoughts. He garnished the edge of the glass with an orange slice sandwiched between two jalapenos. An added touch for the girl at the bar.

“Voila,” he said as he emerged from the back. “A gold rush for the lady.”

“Why thank you very much.” She carefully pinched the stem of the glass and took a tentative sip. “Wow. It does taste alcoholic.”

“And I promise you it’s not.”

“Well done, sir. Compliments to the chef.”

Ron felt his cheeks turn pink. “Thank you.”

“I like the garnish.” The girl pulled a jalapeno slice from the edge of the glass and plopped it into her mouth. Her eyes watered under the heat of the spice, but at the same time, she gave a satisfied smile.

“It’s all about presentation.”

She smiled and extended her arm toward him. “I’m Hermione, by the way.”

Ron wiped his hand on the dish towel that was still hanging around his shoulders, and shook hers. “I’m Ron.”

“Nice to meet you, Ron.”

-Present Day-

Saturday mornings were usually busy at Flourish and Pots, the coffeehouse and bookstore where Ron practically lived at the moment, but he didn’t mind. The commotion helped him focus, while also providing a distraction from his tedious economics textbooks when he needed one. The cafe’s close proximity to the airport meant it was frequently visited by tourists and provided the perfect people watching opportunity. And the fact that it was far away from the Leaky Canteen was a plus. No family members would crash his study sessions and insist on burdening him with administrative work that no one else knew how to do.

His intention behind obtaining his business degree wasn’t necessarily to fix the family bar or turn it into a profit machine, but to hopefully run a better business in the future. Something completely unrelated. But his family didn’t quite understand that.

Ron reached for his latte and brought it to his lips. He hated to disturb the intricate leaf pattern the barista had formed with the foam, but his second year of graduate school required sufficient caffeine, and his admiration for latte-art would have to come later.

As he put this mug down, a flash of red caught his eye. A young girl, no older than three had plopped down into an armchair that was way too big for her. Based on her hair alone, she could have been one of Ron’s nieces or nephews, and if Ron wasn’t absolutely sure she was a new face, he’d be looking for Bill or Percy in the bookstore.

Where are your parents, little girl?

The girl picked up a newspaper from the side table and opened it. The fact that it was upside down made him smile. Her red hair frizzed out at all angles, and her eyebrows furrowed at the newspaper in a way that was strangely familiar.

“Rose?” came a frantic whisper from across the room. “Rosie, where did you go?”

The voice lingered in Ron’s mind like a once-forgotten song. He’d heard that voice before.

“Rosie, there you are!”

A woman came sprinting around the corner and breathed a heavy sigh of relief upon finding the little girl.

“Mama!” Rosie popped out of the chair and wrapped her arms around her mother’s leg. The newspaper glided gently to the floor as if falling in slow motion.

“You scared me! Don’t run away from me again.” The woman picked up the newspaper, folded it back up and set it on the side table. “Ready to go sweetheart?”

The little girl nodded and reached for her mother’s hand. The pair turned toward the entrance of the shop and Ron’s stomach felt like it turned to stone as he watched them walk away.

He didn’t even need to see the woman’s face. Her voice, her hair, the way her hips swayed as she walked away. It was all too familiar. That was the girl from the bar.

Holy shit. Ron’s whole body immediately tingled, and his heart pounded like a bird trying to escape his chest. He felt like he was observing himself from outside the room. How long ago was that? Three, four years? Give or take a few months?

Ron lifted a hand from his textbook to find that his palm had stuck to the page, leaving a sweaty handprint behind. He reached for his latte and took a sip, but his hand trembled so much that he nearly spilled it. The timeline matched. And Rosie’s flaming red hair was unmistakable. Unless the girl from the bar shagged one of his brothers too. Or maybe she just had a thing for gingers?

Who was he kidding? So much had happened in his life since that encounter, and maybe he didn’t even know the half of it.

But, fuck, he had to find out.

#submission #romione #muggle AU #romione muggle au

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