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“Like clockwork,” I said in a low voice as I watched the familiar brunette stroll into the dark and dingy pub. This bar, The Common Room, was one of the best places in town for getting a quick drink after work - it also has fair prices and is never too busy. And at six o'clock every night, without fail, I’d see her come in and make a beeline for the bar. This is probably my personal favorite perk of coming here.
After she gets a drink, usually something simple like a gin and tonic, she takes a seat on the stool at the other end of the bar. I used to think it was happenstance, but now I feel she keeps a safe distance on purpose...always making sure to keep at least a 2-3 stool buffer from any and all possible social interaction.
I can feel her eyes on me. It’s as if she is begging me to come and talk to her, but just as I look over at her, she has already looked away. I try to force my mind to let my body go over to her, but instead, it just reminds me that if I do it might put an end to this weird, safe dance we’ve been doing for months now - that and it was going to take a lot more than two beers to make that happen.
I have been talking myself out of pursuing happiness for as long as I can remember. My best mate Harry always tells me that I am my own worst enemy, and he's not wrong. But yet, I always come here, just for her. As pathetic as it may be, my night could be made simply by watching her there, even if there have never been two spoken words between us. Actually, no, scratch that. We have spoken two words. Once in the too-small hallway leading to the bathrooms, she muttered “excuse me” as she squeezed by, her chest lightly brushing against mine as she passed. Not exactly the most meaningful conversation.
Being the quiet observer I am, I came to notice a lot of details about her. I could tell she worked an office job by the way she dressed- button-up shirts that were always paired with a cardigan and pencil skirt. She would consistently order a beer, only one, and hardly drink it. She would merely hold the sweating bottle in her hand and stare into the mirror behind the bar.
Sometimes on my drive home from work, I would tell myself how crazy this all was, how I should just go home instead. But every day I find myself wondering what color cardigan she would be wearing that day, and before I knew it I was pulling into the all too familiar parking lot. I know I should just go talk to her. I should just say ‘what the hell’ for once, but no matter how many times I go over it in my head I just can’t find the words.
She was absolutely beautiful. Wild curls, tanned skin, and soft curves. In my mind, she was the most alluring person I had ever seen. Though I couldn’t help but notice she didn’t seem to know her own beauty. I could tell by the way she solemnly toyed with the label on the bottle, always denying those who approached her before continuing to look like a girl whose prom date had ditched her for someone else. I was intimidated, even with her shy demeanor, and every night when she walked into that bar, my world would standstill.
I began to fear that I was talking her up in my head, making her out to be some character in a movie that didn’t really exist, and making unfair assumptions. But something in me beckoned me to get to know her. I’d finally convinced myself that tonight was the night - I would finally do something about it. So I walked confidently over to my usual stool and was just about to order when the world paused. To my left, I saw the brunette who finally came up to me in the end.
I guess my cautious glances and my constant attendance at the bar hadn’t gone as unnoticed by her as my confidence had led me to think.
‘Well, hers either’ I thought to myself as a smile crept across my face.
She really was beautiful. Her cardigan color of choice was plum, and it balanced the deep tone of her skin in a way that made my mouth go completely dry. She gave me a sweet smile and stated,
“Would you like to dance?”
I nodded, unable to get out a verbal reply, and I swear her eyes gleamed even in the dim light around us. “I’m Ron,” I managed to choke out before she took my hand and led me to the sticky dance floor. The song that was blasting was Anna Sun by Walk the Moon, and I will never forget how she threw her head back in a laugh at the sight of my dance moves.
Wait for summertime
Coming up for air
Now it's all I want
Now it's all I want
Live my life without
Coming up for air
Now it's all I want
As I watched you dance, I could see you’d gone the extra mile in fixing your hair tonight. Instead of the usual wild curls that I adored so much, they were more smooth and sleek. Both looks take my breath away just the same.
It may have been the four beers she downed instead of her usual ¼ a glass; but I could tell that for whatever reason, she was letting herself go tonight. Maybe she was finally dusting off whatever had held her down in the past. Maybe she could feel what I was feeling. Like there was always something pulling us together, but we’d both just been too scared to do anything about it. For the first time since I’d first seen her walk into the pub, the smile on her face looked real, ecstatic even.
Her confidence must have rubbed off on me because I found myself snaking my arms around her waist as the song changed to something slower, pulling her near. We were the only ones dancing as this wasn’t really the place where people danced, but neither of us cared. I felt like all of the planets were finally aligning.
The last call rolled around, but I could tell our night wasn’t done. How could it be? I still hadn’t even asked her name. On the drive to my apartment, I used the comfortable silence to take her in. Feet on my dash curls disheveled, her shoes long since abandoned. Beautiful, that’s the only thought that came to mind.
“Hermione, by the way,” she said as she flashed me a small smile. “I never told you.”
I laughed at the ridiculousness of this situation, “Do you usually get in the car with men you haven’t even told your name?”
“Can’t say that I have, but I just feel like I’ve known you forever. Is that weird?”
“No, it isn’t. I feel the same way.” I admit.
We never ended up making it to my apartment, instead, we veered off to a nearby park that was completely empty given the hour of the night. Lucky me, I happened to have a blanket in my car.
“Always prepared!” she joked, complete with a boy scout salute.
As we walked down to the small pond in the park, we chatted about our jobs, our fears. I can’t even remember everything we talked about, but I know every subject known to man was touched as we spread the blanket on the dewy grass and gazed up at the stars. Both of us were pretending that we knew more than just the big and little dipper.
“I took astronomy in school you know,” she said with a laugh.
I had never met anyone quite like her, I couldn’t believe this was real and I can remember asking her to pinch me. She giggled at that. The sound was infectious.
Before I lost my courage, I leaned over and kissed her. Warm. I’ll never forget how warm her lips were. They welcomed me eagerly, and I more than happily obliged. She parted her lips slightly, inviting my tongue inside, and I slowly lowered her down onto the blanket.
Looks like I can cross ‘shagging in a public park’ off my bucket list, huh?
Hermione taught me the most important lesson I ever learned that night- to always go with my gut. I spent too much time nursing a beer when I could have been making memories because it is impossible to know when you will meet the love of your life if you never even summon the courage to tell them hello. The 'what ifs’ of life can distract you from the magic.
Hermione shows me that magic every day.