Who: Emma and Neville When: April 4th Where: Little Beckett’s Pub What: A blind date among friends Rating: PG-13 because it’s Emma talking Status: Complete
With Gabrielle’s help, Emma had finally managed to decide on a pair of jeans and a nice fitted blouse that almost made her look like she might have a few curves. She had vetoed wearing the one pair of true heels she owned; the extra few inches of height weren’t at all worth the possibility of a broken ankle if she actually drank. It was a pub, after all, and who knew, maybe the bloke’d be something like Michael and it wouldn’t be a date after all, just two mates getting pissed, just like usual. So she wore almost-flats that were slightly more cute than sensible.
She paused at the front to ask if someone else wearing a pin that matched hers had come in, and the bloke pointed out a table towards the back. Right. Off where it was a bit more dim, maybe a bit private. Trust George to set things up to be romantic, yeah? She tried to quell the butterflies in her stomach as she walked over. Just tell the bloke they were there to have some fun, and that there weren’t any expectations, and that he oughtn’t expect anything because she wasn’t the sort of girl who--
Oh. “Oh bugger.” And that was out loud. She flushed brightly, and tried to smile and hoped he hadn’t heard it. Because there sat Neville Longbottom, who she knew quite well hadn’t wanted to go on his date. “Hey, Neville.”
Neville looked up at the sound of his name and a smile flashed across his face. “Emma. What are you doing-” He cut off abruptly as he noticed the red rose pin attached to her blouse. George... He’d been right, of course, he had set Neville up with someone nice, and it was possible he had no way of knowing they were becoming friends, but it still seemed like George had set this up for a laugh.
He’d been dreading this ever since he’d gotten the letter, and Emma was the person he’d somewhat explained why to. It just made this even more awkward. At least he’d shut up before telling her he didn’t think he’d ever been on an actual date. That would have been mortifying, not just awkward. He flashed her a rueful smile, trying to recover. “At least you don’t have to go into your spiel about not expecting anything.”
Her chin tilted as she looked at him, just starting to smile. “Well, then, and you don’t have to worry about offending me if you wanted to say the same, yeah?” She leaned over and brushed a kiss on his cheek. “There, the date-like bit’s done with and we can just be us, yeah?” Emma settled into her seat, and grinned at him, even though her stomach still felt a bit like (lead) butterflies were dancing the merengue. “And look, thanks to George, I’ve managed to drag you out for drinks and a bit of fun and I don’t even have to pay for it. Which is just what you’ve been needing, I’m thinking.”
Neville flushed slightly at the kiss on the cheek, but he was more than willing to ignore the date-like parts. He didn’t know how to act on a date. Getting a drink with a friend was at least a little more familiar. “Everyone’s telling me I need to go out and have some fun,” Neville told her with a slight sigh. “It’s a little disheartening. Am I really that stodgy?”
“You’re not that stodgy,” she protested with a quick shake of her head. “You’re just that bloody well buried under your work, yeah? Just need to remember t’take some time off once in a while so you don’t end up drowning. D’you get to see your mates often enough? Might just be some of ‘em miss you, too.” She leaned on the table, her feet tucked up onto the seat cross-legged.
He hadn’t gone out much before all of this had started, either. He was less prone now that he held public office and people wanted to report on any seemingly untoward movement, but he’d never been much for hanging out. “I don’t think most of them miss me too much,” Neville said honestly. He wasn’t trying to sound pitiful or play for sympathy; it was just the truth. “I mean, I’ve got friends and they’re all great, but really, they’re all closer to other people.”
Emma frowned. “I’d bet they still do. I would, if we’d been mates a while. Is it that you don’t like going out? I mean, I don’t like dating, so I get that. I always end up shoving my foot down my throat and all, or worse things happen. But just getting to relax a bit is pretty brill. Although usually it involves alcohol, which, well, dating doesn’t.” She paused, lips pressing together as she flushed faintly. “And apparently involves running off at the mouth again, sorry. Maybe I ought to just finish that thought up like this: I think you’re a brill bloke, and if we end up friends, I’m the sort likes to see my friends. Yeah?”
“I don’t mind it, I guess,” Neville said slowly, as though he was thinking about it for the first time. “Mostly I just feel awkward, like I don’t know what to do. That’s kind of my standard state, though.”
The tender came to get their orders, interrupting them for a few moments. “Mind if I take this off?” Neville asked after he’d left, pointing at the rose pin. “It’s served its purpose... And looks sort of silly on a bloke, really.” He distracted himself with taking off the pin, still talking as he did.”I think... we could be friends. If you wanted to. I just... I tend to keep to myself a lot. I always have.”
“Aw, I thought it looked quite fetching,” Emma grinned, teasing just a bit. She caught her lower lip in her teeth watching him. “I’d like that. Being friends. If you wanted, because I know not everyone can deal with me. I’m too noisy, for one. And I don’t always get people, so just... swat me on the nose like a pup if I start going off on things I oughtn’t. Folks say I’m pushy sometimes.” She shrugged, but she supposed she actually was, since it got said more than once. “Do you keep to yourself for a reason? I mean, do you just not like people being around you?” And there she went, being pushy and curious again, but her expression was open and honestly interested as she leaned her elbows on the table, and her chin on her hands, watching him.
It was bizarre, answering so many questions about himself. He felt like he should be asking some in return, but he wasn’t sure where to try to slip them in. “No, no, I like people... I just...” He sighed, lifting a hand to run it through his hair, messing it up. “I’m just quiet, I guess. I mean, most of my relatives were around my grandmother’s age, and I just kind of got used to being on my own, I guess. It was weird going to school and being around other kids my age.”
“You didn’t know the other kids growing up at all?” Although that made a kind of sense to Emma, whose Mum hadn’t exactly been greatly respected in the wizarding world herself. “What happ--” she stopped herself abruptly, lips pressed together almost comically as she managed to swallowed the words and not ask about his folks. “It’s hard to come out of Hogwarts without getting close to folks, though. Housemates and all that. When you’ve seen someone in their knickers every morning, there’s a bond formed, yeah?”
There’d been one or two kids in the neighborhood, but mostly it was people his grandmother’s age, and she hadn’t liked him going over to see other kids while they certainly didn’t want to go to the stern old lady’s house. Things had just never really developed. “Well. They’re all my friends, to be sure. I mean, Seamus, Dean, Harry, and Ron are great. It was just that Dean and Seamus were best friends and Harry and Ron were best friends, so I was just kind of the outside bloke. We were all friends, just not really close.” He shrugged slightly. “I saw Harry and Ron a little more when we were in the Auror department, and Seamus was a hitwizard, so he was around a lot too... Then I quit that and started this campaign and I wasn’t around anymore. I can’t really blame them for not keeping tabs on the politician who was too busy to do much. It’s not like I was doing any better.”
Em’s lips pursed, jaw set. “Well, you’re not on your own any longer. If I’m going to be pushy, might as well make sure you’ve got a friend, yeah? I’m not easy to get rid of.” She reached across the table to where his hand lay and nudged him. “Unless you tell me in no uncertain terms to sod off, because I might just listen to you then. But otherwise, you’re stuck with me. See what happens when you’re in the wrong place at the wrong time and you get knocked over by a runt?” She flashed a grin then. As far as she was concerned, someone ought to be keeping tabs on him because he was too nice and he just let them lose track of him. Someone ought to be thinking about him.
Or maybe it was that she kind of sort of maybe understood, given that she had drinking buddies, but as much as she was willing to talk about just about anything, it always seemed like the things closest to her were her pets, not the people.
Neville laughed before picking up his drink to take a swallow. “I think it’ll probably be the other way around. But I won’t tell you to sod off. I like you.” He set the glass back down, looking back at her. “I’ve been talking about myself an awful lot. What about you? How are things going with you?”
Em couldn’t help the brightening grin. “Well, that’s good then, since I like you too.” Her nose wrinkled up, and she shrugged. “My life’s bloody well dull. I’ve moved, and that’s pretty much brill. I love the new place, and Gabrielle seems to be a good roommate, or at least, we’ve not gotten in each other’s way yet. I’m still stuck in my weird job since they’ve said I can’t be a Hit Wizard, and I haven’t heard back yet on my try at reapplying to the reserve. I’m beginning to think I’m cursed with jobs, yeah?” Another shrug. “See, nothing nearly as exciting as your life, with being all young and rebellious and looked up to.”
Neville rolled his eyes, flashing her a grin. “More like ‘young, rebellious, and on the Ministry’s Take Down As Soon As Possible List.’ I highly doubt anyone’s looking up to me.” He moved back off of himself, focusing on what she’d said about herself. “Those aren’t your only two options, are they? Hit Wizard or the reserve? I’m sure there’s more than that you could put your skill to use doing.”
Emma would beg to differ, but he’d already asked her a question and it’d be rude to just ignore it. She wrinkled her nose as she tried to answer. “When I was a wee one, I brought home every creature I found. Mum hated it, yeah? She’d just manage to get one sent off somewhere and I’d be walking in with another, and the weirder the better. I’m not afraid of ‘em. And they like me. The mean-tempered little shits, and the cranky big ones, they tend to like me. So then, m’first year was the tournament, yeah? And I saw the dragons.”
Her eyes lit up when she talked about them, her hands wide as she described each one, her memory of the breeds perfect, and how they reacted during the tournament. “See, when that was done,” she finished, “All I wanted to do was work with dragons. I applied to every bloody reserve, and not a one of them was willing to take me on. So I went into the Creatures division at the Ministry. I mean, I want to work with creatures. S’what I’m good at. Thing is, the only ones of the big ones, the interesting ones, you get to really work with are the dragons. Manticore, Gryphons... they’re all kept away. And I tried a breeder or two of the exotics, and they wouldn’t take me on anyway. Hit Wizards... well, it seemed like a good enough idea, since I’ve been doing it and all. And I like helping people, yeah? But what I want to do is work with the interesting sorts of creatures. And haven’t been able to find anything that lets me do it.”
Neville hid a grin as she described the dragons, seemingly forgetting that he’d been there for the tournament as well. His memory of the dragons wasn’t nearly as perfect, though, he’d be forced to admit. “I know it’s not as exciting as the bigger creatures, but have you tried applying to one of the magical creature reserves? Maybe if you racked up experience there, one of the dragon reserves or a breeder would take you on.”
“Sounds weird, but I’m afraid now, yeah?” Emma admitted. “Not of the creatures, never of them. But I’m tired of being told I’m not good enough to do what I’m actually bloody well brilliant at. I’m jealous as bloody hell over Katie and Luag and what they get to do every day. I’d even like to work at Hogwarts and teach Creatures, if I could, just so I could do something. But it seems like every time I put out my CV, it comes back that I’m just not enough. S’hard to hear it after a while, yeah?”
She shrugged one shoulder. “I could, I guess. I need to look into some things, too, find out what m’supervisor’s up to. I think he’s got something in for me at work.” She made a face. “Don’t know if you saw when I wrote about it, but he had something tucked in my records that I saw, about taking money from a solicitor. And yeah, it might’ve been a mistake, but it might not’ve, too. Or he might be setting me up to look like I’m taking bribes.”
“Have you been accused of anything?” Neville asked, frowning slightly. They couldn’t fire her without telling her why, but it sounded like they were setting her up for it. This was getting ridiculous; he was beginning to think there wasn’t an area of the Ministry that hadn’t been corrupted. And what could they possibly have against Emma?
Emma shook her head, her nose wrinkled. “I haven’t been accused of anything, but I was wondering if he thought he could set something up so he could. He doesn’t like me. Maybe he wants to get rid of me that badly?”
“Despite recent examples to the contrary, that’s still illegal,” Neville reminded her. He sighed, shaking his head slightly. “Sometimes I think they’re trying to get rid of all the good people in the Ministry.” He looked down at the table, silent for a few minutes as he studied the wood grain.
“What’s your supervisor’s name?” he asked suddenly, still apparently fascinated by the table.
Emma’s nose wrinkled further. “Garber. Why?”
Neville glanced up, flashing her a small smile. “Well. Maybe we can take a look and see how clean his file really is.”
The sudden smile was bright and brilliant, and Emma reached across to squeeze his hand. “That’d be brill, Neville, really. Thank you.”
Neville’s smile widened a little. “Don’t thank me yet. Let’s see if I can actually get a hold of it first.”
She squeezed his hand again before letting go to sit back and take up her drink. “I can thank you for trying,” Emma pointed out, still grinning. “Because even that’s pretty much brill. Ooh, food.” She fell silent, moving things out of the way to leave space for her plate as the tender brought over their orders. Emma raised her glass once the tender left. “And thanks for a brill not-exactly-date, date. I’m really glad George matched us up.”
Neville smiled at her again, picking up his fork. "I'm glad, too," he told her, after the waiter left, and then set to work on his meal.