WHO. Ron & Hermione WHERE. A kebab shop WHEN. Thursday 17th December WHAT. Time for some alone time and possibly some #feelings talk WARNINGS. no archive warnings apply
The Armenian kebab house was a tiny little shop with only three tables. Most people were getting takeaway, mostly people who seemed to either be on their way home from work or gearing up for a night out. It was pretty basic, with plastic plates and cutlery, but the food was good and it made perfect sense for a couple of friends just hanging out. Particularly when said friends were trying to lay low. It was after all, not a date. There was no pressure to do anything... romantic. Hermione was even paying.
Ron was eating uncharacteristically slowly, picking at their shared sides and occasionally chewing at a peice of loose skin at the base of his thumb. The conversation had so far been centered around his new job-cum-most-boring-undercover-mission-ever at the Prophet archive. At least he didn't have to worry about boring her, because predictably she thought it was the most fascinating thing ever. He'd have happily let her spent all day sorting through decades of notes and papers, but she already had the much more important job of coordinating everything, so he had taken the hit for the team.
Anyway, after over seven years of her forcible instruction, he wasn't half bad at it.
Meanwhile he was thinking almost constantly about what Sirius had said. His siutation with Emmeline was eerily similar to what Ron had been quietly going through for the last few months. All right, if he was honest; years. But that didn't mean that if he finally spoke up, it would end the same way. He was about fifty percent sure that it would just end in a row and potentially ruin things between them forever. And his brain was already tired from having to work out the odds of just about anything happening, lately.
On the other hand the alternative was living out the REST OF HIS LIFE (a little dramatic, perhaps) not knowing. Or ending up like original-timeline-Sirius. Hopefully without the death and wrongful inprisonment. But still.
"Nice to hang out just us," he said finally, as casual as he dared. "Bit suffocating at home. You'd think Gryffindor tower would've been great practice for a safe house, but..."