Chapter Text
“So, it was his eyes then?” Lavender half-yelled from across the table but was still barely audible.
“Wha—” Hermione’s words were cut off by someone, or rather someone’s hip bumping her elbow and sending part of her drink sloshing over the edges of her glass and onto her lap. She looked up ready to fix the offending stranger with an icy glare but the person was already halfway across the pub. Instead, she turned to her friend sitting next to her, who had suggested this crowded pub in the first place and scowled. Of course, Neville was too busy smiling at his girlfriend Hannah to notice. Hermione rolled her eyes at the sickeningly sweet sight, but couldn’t fight the little smile that formed on her lips when she looked at the two. Instead of interrupting the moment, Hermione grabbed a handful of napkins on the table and dabbed at the liquid, which had quickly absorbed into her clothes.
“I said ‘Was it his eyes?’” Lavender repeated, catching Hermione’s attention again. This time she was able to hear her clearly as a large, and rather loud crowd near them had just left.
Hermione gazed at her friend in confusion, her mind still half focused on cleaning up. “What are you going on about?”
“Erm...your date,” Lavender replied and gave an incredulous grin to their friend Parvati who was sitting next to her and watching the two of them.
Hermione opened her mouth to argue against the idea that she had a date.
We’re just two people, who agreed to meet for dinner. No label on it, she reminded herself.
Right, and the fact that you think he’s attractive and has what looks like the most kissable lips you’ve ever seen means nothing. Oh, and about those eyes…
Hermione shook her head firmly to silence her thoughts, and almost forgot that she had an audience.
“Yeah, you did go on and on about how blue his eyes were,” Parvati chimed in, bringing Hermione’s thoughts back to the conversation at hand.
“No, not just blue, Parvati,” Lavender interjected in a dreamy voice. “Remember, they were the deepest blue, like the ocean.
Lavender clutched at her top just above where her heart lay and feigned like she was fainting slowly onto Parvati’s shoulder as she laughed. Her laughter caught the attention of several people standing nearby and Hermione could feel heat creeping up from her neck. Lavender’s laugh almost always had that impact. It was a sweet girlish trill that could make you giddy too as long as you didn’t feel like you were on the other end of the joke. Parvati for her part, at least had the decency to hold her own laughter in, but the tremors in her shoulder gave away that she found Hermione being in the hot seat just as funny. For a second, Hermione remembered why she had tried to avoid coming out tonight in the first place, and at the same time, she almost forgot why she was friends with Lavender. Almost.
Lavender and Hermione were very different people, to say the least. Where Hermione had the tendency to take everything very seriously, Lavender was carefree almost to the point of carelessness at times in Hermione’s opinion. It was one of the many reasons she had initially kept her at bay. In turn, Lavender had responded to Hermione’s initial judgement and cold shoulder with an indifferent attitude of her own.
Their stalemate of a relationship didn’t change until the end of their first year at Uni, when Hermione had locked herself in her room to study to the point of obsessive perfection. Neither Parvati’s gentle questioning or Neville’s friendly pleas could break her concentration. Not even her own longing for personal interaction could break through. It was Lavender who picked the lock on Hermione’s door and unceremoniously dragged her out for a party. Hermione spent the first half of the night dodging a particularly handsy fellow but Lavender rescued her by telling the guy they were a part of a secret magical world that liked to hex random people at parties. Hermione had played along, and was fairly sure she’d never seen the colour drain from a person’s face that fast. She and Lavender spent the rest of the evening making up spells they wished they could try out on their exes. Lavender even came up with a rather severe sounding “bat-bogey” hex that Hermione wished she could use on her friend right at this moment.
“You’re acting like I spouted love sonnets about a practical stranger’s eyes. I assure you I did no such thing.” Hermione scoffed. “I merely pointed out that they are a very pretty blue.”
“Well, hopefully you didn’t tell him that.” Lavender chuckled and took a sip of her drink. She was still leaning snuggly up against Parvati’s shoulder.
“And what if I did?” Hermione shrugged carelessly. She hadn’t said such a thing to Ron, but at this point she was itching for an argument. And quite possibly a distraction. She knew the desired effect was achieved when Lavender nearly spit up her last sip.
“Pretty is not a word you use to describe a bloke.” Lavender nodded assuredly and dragged her sleeve across the corners of her lips.
“There’s nothing wrong with telling a bloke he’s pretty, Lav,” Parvati said and gave Hermione a warm smile.
“Come on, you two! A guy doesn’t want to be told they’re pretty ,” she said with a small giggle.
“Well, that’s quite an old-fashioned way of thinking,” Hermione interjected.
Lavender looked from Hermione back over her shoulder at Parvati and frowned, before looking at the rest of their group at the table. Her face brightened when her eyes fell on the lovebirds. “Fine, let’s ask Neville.”
Neville and Hannah were busy whispering to each other at that moment. Their faces were bent close together in confidence and it was apparent they had not been listening to the group conversation.
“Neville,” Lavender called and reached across the table to bang her fist just in front of him.
Neville jumped a little at the vibration more than the sound, which was still muted by the noise around them. He and Hannah both looked up at that moment. Neville’s eyebrows raised in question at the intrusion of whatever moment they were having.
“Don’t give me that look, Nev. You and Hannah are always whispering sweet nothings to each other.” Lavender waived off his version of a withering glare, which still gave off more of a puppy dog vibe than anything actually menacing. “Besides, we have something of extreme importance that we need your opinion on.”
“What exactly is that, Lav Lav?” Neville asked, shifting his body toward the group. Lavender scrunched her nose at the nickname bestowed upon her by her very nice but a bit over the top boyfriend during her first year at Uni. She often joked that dating that particular ex had felt like she was dating a younger version of herself. Neville’s face was uncharastically smug at his momentary triumph over Lavender. Years ago, the Neville that Hermione had first met would have been embarrassed by Lavender’s jokes, but he had grown more confident over time. It also helped that they had all come to understand each other’s personalities much better after years of being flatmates. Lavender was the quickest to tease, though it usually meant no harm; Parvati the quickest to laugh; Neville the quickest blush; and Hermione the quickest to debate.
Lavender recovered quickly and was back on her mission it seemed. “Neville, as a bloke, how would you feel about someone telling you that you’ve got pretty eyes.”
Neville’s cheeks reddened almost instantly and he started to study his drink intensely.
“Oh, what’s this question about?” Hannah asked, her interest piqued. Hermione wasn’t sure if she instinctively knew to take the spotlight off of Neville or if she was just genuinely curious. Maybe a bit of both. Hannah was always spookily intuitive in that way. She exuded an ease, where Neville even with his increased confidence was still a bit shy.
Lavender leaned in farther for everyone to hear. “Hermione told her date—”
“He’s not my date; we’re just meeting for drinks.” Hermione was fairly certain she saw four sets of eyes roll.
“She told him, he has pretty eyes—”
“I never said I actually said it to him,” Hermione said under her breath but didn’t try to argue back this time. She’d set herself up for this by egging Lavender on in the first place. She sat back and took a drink from her pint.
“How would you take that?” Lavender finished, looking pointedly at Neville.
Neville looked around the group and hunched his shoulders hesitantly. “Don’t know. Never had anyone use those exact words before.”
“Well, there you have it!” Lavender turned and exclaimed victoriously at Hermione.
“What? I can’t believe no one has ever told you that,” Hannah said at almost the same moment. “I think I should fix that.”
Hannah turned her body so she was fully facing Neville. He looked over at her tentatively.
“Neville Longbottom,” Hannah said and gave a short giggle. “You have the prettiest brown eyes. I could just lose myself in them all day.”
Neville’s neck now officially matched the color of his cheeks.
“So, how do you feel about that compliment?” Parvati asked this time.
“Feels quite nice,” Neville responded, not taking his eyes off Hannah. “Do you really think that?”
“Of course, silly,” Hannah replied. The two leaned forward at the same moment and kissed. The kiss was chaste, most likely because of the audience at their table, but the two of them remained connected, leaning their foreheads against each other and smiling.
“To fully answer your question, Lav, it’s not a bad way to compliment a guy,” Neville’s response was loud enough for the rest to hear without looking away from Hannah.
“Oh, get a room,” Lavender called, rolling her eyes but grinning nonetheless. She turned to look back at Hermione. “I guess that settles it then. I was wrong.”
“Yes, looks that way,” Hermione agreed and took another sip from her glass. The conversation lulled for a moment. Lavender turned to say something to Parvati and Hermione took the opportunity to sneak a look at her mobile. She’d been resisting the urge to do it for the last ten minutes and her desire finally won out. No new messages had come through. She wasn’t really expecting any to, but a subconscious disappointment still ached in her chest. It was Thursday evening, and it had been exactly three days since she met Ron Weasley. They’d messaged back and forth that first day pretty regularly until they had decided on a date and time to meet again.
Tomorrow. Hermione’s stomach fluttered and she smiled to herself. But then she looked back at her mobile and frowned. She had sent the last message.
I look forward to seeing you again.
It was safe, and polite, and not at all too eager. And a rookie mistake. She’d let him know that she was looking forward to meeting, and been left holding the dreaded honour of the last to text. She reasoned that his last message had basically said the same as hers, so there really wasn’t a reason for him to respond back at what was the natural end to a conversation. But even logic couldn’t settle these butterflies. It was the digital version of a hug goodnight at the end of a first meeting that somehow left her wanting more.
“You can message him first, you know!” Hermione looked up to see Lavender addressing her again.
“Don’t try to deny it,” Lavender said holding up a hand, before she could respond. “We’ve seen you checking your mobile. Parvati, what is this? The second time?”
“I’m fairly certain it’s at least the fourth,” Parvati responded. She leaned in over Lavender and rested her chin on the blonde girl's shoulder. “I think she checked once when you went to the loo.”
Hermione thought of trying to deny this claim too, but she was tired, and honestly a little curious to see what they had to say.
“How did you guess?” she finally asked.
“Ever since Monday, you’ve been checking that thing like a heartsick puppy,” Lavender explained. “It’s quite adorable, but really Hermione, why don’t you just say something if you want to talk to him so badly.”
“What if he thinks I’m being too forward?” Her own words caught her a little off-guard. The hypocrisy from her stance on old-fashioned thinking from earlier almost made her own head spin.
Why are feelings so confusing?
“He won’t,” Parvati said, shaking her head.
“But I already messaged him first—”
“Well, you had his number; he didn’t have yours.”
“He asked you out, didn’t he?” Lavender asked.
“Well, yes...but, I’m not really sure it’s a date,” Hermione said. “I mean he first just asked if I wanted to meet up for a drink sometime and I said yes and we messaged back and forth a bit and then it turned into dinner and then...nothing else. But what if he actually just wants to be friends?”
“He’s probably just nervous too,” Parvati chimed in. “But Lav’s right, it sounds like a date. Technically, he did make the first move by giving you his number. And the way he did it probably means he was worried about being rejected. I doubt he would have been so shy about it if he just wanted to hang out as friends.”
Hermione nodded. It was the kind of sound and rational logic she usually liked. It’s what she’d been telling herself, but apparently when a crush is involved she found herself to be quite irrational.
“Have you still seen him in the mornings?” Parvati asked.
“No, I haven’t.” Hermione frowned and drummed her fingers on the side of her glass. “I usually only go to the same spot on Mondays and Wednesdays for my campaign. I thought about going on Tuesday just to see him, but I had another job that morning. When I got there Wednesday, I didn’t see him, but it was an unusually busy morning for me.”
“What’s the last thing he messaged?”
“He said” —Hermione looked back at her mobile to read the message, she felt her cheeks warm as she read the words— “meeting me today was the luckiest thing Mr. Babbity had ever done for him.”
“Mr. Babbity?” Lavender and Parvati asked simultaneously.
Hermione waved a hand. “You had to be there,” she said and chewed the corner of her lower lip. The other two looked puzzled, but didn’t question her.
“Well, I have absolutely no idea what a Babbity is, but it sounds like flirting to me,” Lavender said with confidence.
“So...say I were to message him right now,” Hermione started hesitantly. “What should I say?”
Parvati spoke first, “Erm...it’s not too late. Ask him how his day was?”
“No, keep it even simpler. Just say, ‘Hey,’” Lavender countered.
Hermione liked that idea and before she could second guess herself she messaged him the one word greeting. As soon as she sent it, a hand snatched the mobile from her grasp and she looked up at Lavender and Parvati who were both smiling at her conspiratorially.
“Now that you’ve sent the message, you can’t spend all night looking at your mobile,” Parvati said as Lavender passed it to her and she slid it into her bag.
Hermione had to admit that she felt lighter now that the message was sent and the mobile was out of her grasp, so she didn’t protest.
“Alright, ladies. Drink up, I’m getting us a second round,” Lavender said and got up from the table.
Hermione and Parvati exchanged a look and both raised their glasses before tipping them back.
Two hours later, and one more drink deep, Hermione was pleasantly surprised at how warm the air was on her exposed skin as they walked home. She found her mind wandering to thoughts of tomorrow night. She hoped the weather would be just as warm. She wanted to wear her favourite top that showed off her shoulders when she met Ron for dinner, not that it was a date of course.
But I really hope it is, she finally admitted to herself.
Hermione didn’t realise someone was next to her until she felt a gentle bump against her arm.
“You never answered my question earlier, you know?” Lavender said looking at her with a teasing smile.
“Which one was that?” Hermione asked, feigning ignorance.
“What was the first thing that attracted you to this Ron of yours? Was it his eyes? And stop pretending that this is not a date.” Lavender raised her eyebrows, daring Hermione to contradict her.
Hermione sighed. “Do you really want to know?”
“Of course, I do! Otherwise, I wouldn’t keep asking.” Lavender hooked her arm through Hermione’s and drew her closer. “I’ve just never seen you look so excited about going on a date. I want to know what finally caught your attention. I’ve only been trying to set you up for years now and you always say no.”
“Well, it wasn’t his eyes I noticed first.”
“No? Was it his bum, then?” Lavender chuckled and Hermione lightly bumped her friend’s shoulder with her own, but smiled nonetheless.
“Be serious! The first time I saw him, I barely noticed anything about him physically—well, I mean other than his height and the red hair; those are hard to miss.” The image of Ron that first day she really noticed him started to form in her mind. Up until then, he was just the lanky redhead, always in too much of his own world to even glance her way when she called out about her petition.
“He was just another busy corporate-looking stiff passing me by in the morning. Then, one day, Mr. Flitwick who owns the cafe at the corner had just brought me a morning coffee like he normally does. He was heading back to his shop, when he must have tripped over some debris on the pavement at the crosswalk. He nearly fell into the street just as the light was changing. I was about halfway to him myself, when I saw him—Ron—run back to help him. It doesn’t seem that noteworthy now, but several people had walked by the dear old man already and then there was Ron. He had to have been half way down the block when it happened and he had come back.”
“He helped Mr. Flitwick back to his shop and was on his way again, but I guess since that day, I’ve always noticed him more. He started making regular stop-offs at Mr. Flitwick’s shop; he’d never done that before. I think he was checking in on him. Sometimes I would see them chatting on the corner outside the shop. He always made Mr. Flitwick laugh and I started to wonder what they were saying.”
Hermione sighed. “Then one day...I don’t know, I just decided I really wanted to meet him, hear his voice once—you ever wondered what someone’s voice sounded like for so long that the thought of them speaking to you gives you goosebumps?”
“Was it just as you had imagined?” Lavender asked. “His voice, I mean.”
“Hmmm, yes—or no.” Hermione shrugged. “To be honest, I think I was building myself up to be disappointed, but it was definitely nice.”
“That is so sweet. He sounds sweet.” Lavender squealed and squeezed Hermione’s arm. “Too bad I didn’t meet him first.”
Lavender’s tone had been light, but Hermione still froze and looked at her friend incredulously.
“Just teasing,” Lavender said and yanked Hermione back into motion. “Besides, I already have someone I like.”
“Oh, really! Someone I know?”
Lavender quickly looked up at the rest of their group, who were walking ahead of them and shook her head. “I’m not prepared to say just yet.”
Hermione tried to follow her friend’s gaze, and was fairly certain she saw Lavender bite back a smile. She thought of lecturing her friend on the morals of give and take, but the uncharacteristic blush on Lavender's face made her only nod instead.
“You know something you said earlier wasn’t entirely wrong,” Hermione said, deciding to mercifully change the subject.
“What was that?” Lavender replied.
Hermione looked at the others to make sure they were out of earshot. “If I tell you this, you must promise you won’t tell anyone else.”
“I swear.”
“You weren’t wrong earlier, about his bum,” Hermione could feel her cheeks heat up a bit. “I couldn’t help but notice that he did look rather fit in his trousers.” Hermione bit her bottom lip and waited for her friend’s reaction. Lavender first looked at her wide-eyed, and then she let out a barking laugh so deep and so loud that Hermione was certain all of London had heard it. She was quite certain that she had never seen Lavender laugh this much at anything she’d said before.
The rest of their group, that was now several paces ahead of them, stopped and looked back.
“Care to share,” Parvati called out.
“It’s nothing—nothing!” Lavender tried to wave off their curious looks but she could barely talk in between her gasps of laughter.
Hermione just looked at the other three and shrugged.
Hannah, Neville, and Parvati exchanged bemused glances with each other before starting to walk again back to their shared flat. Hermione and Lavender jogged to catch back up with the group after a minute. Hermione eventually fell to the back of the pack to savour a few more quiet moments out in the open air before they reached home. The gentle breeze brushed against her skin and through her hair and she felt content.
A buzzing sensation coming from the pocket of her jeans broke her reverie. It took her a moment to realise that’s where she had placed her mobile after she had gotten it back from Parvati. She was more relaxed about the messaging dilemma, but not so relaxed as to forget to ask for her mobile back when they left the pub. It buzzed again and she swiftly pulled it out to look. Her whole body stilled for a moment.
It’s okay if it’s not him.
She blew out a deep breath, but the tension did not leave her chest as she opened her mobile to read the message.