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Chapter Two

A/N- I tend to do a half-muggle half-Wizard thing. So don't be too bothered when you see Hermione using a cell phone and a car. A Constructive Criticism is VERY welcome (though be somewhat polite about it, please). This is a test-run, and I look to improve.

“How did it go?” Ron asked as soon as Hermione entered the house. Hermione glared at him, but then stopped because it wasn't his fault that her grandmother was such a git. She wished her grandmother were still alive so that she could give Grandmother Marilyn a piece of her mind. Then again, if she were alive, Hermione wouldn't be having this problem.

“Horribly,” Hermione muttered before stomping up to her room. Harry started going up after her, but Ron grabbed his cloak. “Are you bloody insane? Do you want to have an early death? You saw the glare she gave me, you should know by now that she's dangerous when angry!”

“I suppose I could let her cool off for a while, but I'll check up on her later, maybe make her a cup of tea.” Harry said, sitting down after a moment's hesitation. There was no need though, because Hermione came out minutes later. Harry was about to ask how she was, but decided against it. Ron was right, and he valued his life too much. Hermione went into the room with a phone in it (Mr. Weasley had insisted, and Mrs. Weasley reluctantly agreed to have one again. After all, it couldn't get Harry in trouble with his Aunt and Uncle any more.), and started dialing a number.

“Shall we get out some of those Extendable Ears Fred and George left behind?” Ron asked quietly.

“Ron, we can't spy on her, she's our friend!” Harry said furiously, though he also whispered.

“Suit yourself, mate.” Ron said, taking the ears out of his pocket.

“You keep them in your pocket?” Harry was horrified at the lack of respect for privacy his friend had, but was also…interested.

“Never know when they'll come in handy.”

“Alright, but if Hermione catches us, I'm putting all the blame on you. Now you're the one wanting an early death.”

Unfortunately, the ears were pointless, as Hermione had thought ahead and put a charm around the room. This just caused more curiosity, because obviously Hermione was making an effort to hide whatever it was she was doing.

As the door to the room with the telephone (also known as Arthur's Muggle Museum) opened, Ron hastily shoved the ears back into his pocket.

“Hermione, what's going on?” Harry asked, seeing the question formed in Ron's brain, but decided to ask instead of him, since Hermione was much less likely to blow his head off than Ron's.

“I'll be going on a date tomorrow.” Hermione replied. Ron was disappointed (all that secrecy just for a date? He thought to himself) but Harry was worried. Not only was Hermione not the date type, her dates usually didn't…end up well. His thoughts seemed to appear on his face, because Hermione sighed deeply and said, “I know. I just hope it'll be different this time.” Harry stopped at that, not wanting to get her spirits any lower than they already were. Besides, his luck wasn't the best either on a date, and he had a feeling that if he pressed any further, Hermione would bring that up.


It was the next evening, and Hermione was very uncomfortable. She loathed first dates. First, and most importantly, they often included wearing skirts or dresses. School not counting, Hermione never wore a skirt or dress if she could help it. Secondly, it was at the “just getting to know each other” stage, so it often included uncomfortable silences or worrying about saying the wrong thing (Hermione didn't usually worry about the latter, but now she needed a boyfriend). And first dates weren't very fun. They usually were dates at an expensive restaurant, and not things like going to a park, going to the movies, or something like that. But it couldn't be helped.

Yesterday she had called Ginny, doing it before she could come up for a reason why she shouldn't, and asked if Ginny could set her up with someone, and she had readily agreed. Ginny was always going on about how cute all her co-workers at her job were. What had surprised Hermione was how quickly Ginny had set everything up. She had expected more time. Ginny called that afternoon asking if she were free that evening. Hermione had said yes, thinking that Ginny perhaps wanted to hang out with her. Which is doubtlessly why Ginny had waited until after Hermione had said yes to say that she had set Hermione up.

“Bloody deceiving prat,” Hermione mumbled.

“I'm sorry?” Her date asked. Daniel Wilson was certainly nice enough, though he seemed to talk about himself a lot. She didn't mind too bad though, since she new that sometimes first dates did that to people, and he wasn't bragging too much. Though she did find herself spacing out every once in a while she had, fortunately, caught the last thing he said.

“I said that it's very interesting that you worked in Guatemala,” Hermione said, hoping that the sweetest smile she could summon would help cover her lies. She had never been great at lying, but since she didn't know Daniel yet that wouldn't be a problem. So that was one good thing she could think of about first dates.

“Yes, have you been out of the country at all?” he asked, trying to show that he wasn't a total conversation hogger.

“Yes, I've been to France on holiday a few times.” She answered, but just then the food had arrived.

“How do you like your shrimp alfredo pasta?”

“It's pretty good coming from this place,” she blurted out, then blushed. She hadn't meant to be negative about the place her date brought her to, but then decided that if he couldn't handle the fact that she was an opinionated person then it was his problem and not hers.

“What's that supposed to mean?” he asked. He seemed to be a bit offended. A waiter came over, “Mr. Daniel, how do you and your date like the meal?”

“It's very good, thank Chef Andre please.”

“Oh, don't thank Andre. Your parents cooked the meal!”

Hermione was confused. What were Daniel's parents doing cooking the meals? Then she noticed something, the restaurant's name was Wilson's! Her date (or rather his parents) owned the place! And she had just insulted it. But he had been cheap, bringing her to his own restaurant and, in a sense, making his parents pay for the date.

“Please excuse me,” she said, taking her napkin out of her lap and standing up. Hermione decided to do what all girls did after a disastrous date and go to the bathroom where a knight in shining armor would save them. In this case, the knight would be Harry. She whipped out her cell phone (she carried it around even though she knew very few people with one) and dialed Harry's number, hoping that he wouldn't take too long to get there.

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