Off the Beaten Track
by Whirlgig
"Hiking?" Harry's eyebrows raise as he takes in Hermione's fretful expression as she stands before them, laden with an enormous backpack and looking very, very sorry for herself. "He's taking you hiking on your third date?"
Hermione nods miserably. "And not just any hike, either. A 15 kilometre hike."
Apparently unconcerned that she has barrelled uninvited into Harry and Ginny's Sunday morning breakfast at Salt, Hermione groans, sets her bag on the floor and sits down next to Ginny who is trying unsuccessfully to hide her laughter.
"I know, I know," Hermione says, covering her face in her hands. "I don't even know why I agreed to it."
Harry coughs.
"Yes, alright, shut up, I know why I agreed to it," Hermione snaps. "But it was stupid." Hermione slumps over the table with a bang, hair falling over her face as she whimpers. Harry doesn't think he has ever seen anything more pathetic and grins across the table at Ginny. "Very stupid, Hermione," he agrees.
"It gets worse," Ginny adds gleefully. She is enjoying herself.
Hermione groans again and starts banging her head against the table. "So." Bang. "Stupid." Bang.
"Worse? What could be worse?" Harry laughs at Hermione who is now lying prone with her head pillowed in her arms, bemoaning Bonds T-shirts and They That Wear Them.
"Bonds T-shirts?" Harry asks curiously.
"It's the lycra." Ginny explains, waving an airy hand. "It adds – What was it Hermione?"
There is an embarrassed silence from Hermione, then, in a small voice, "clingy zing."
"That's it," Ginny winks at Harry. "I'd forgotten."
"Don't forget the slight puffing effect around the biceps due to the ribbed edge of the sleeve cuff," Hermione's hair says from the table. "Keep up, Ginny."
"Well, that goes without saying," Ginny nods seriously. "Go on Hermione; tell Harry what else you did."
Hermione's head shakes vigorously. "Mm-mph."
"Come on," Harry pleads. "Please? I've got to go see Vector after this about an extension for my Maths assignment; I could do with some good news."
There is a pause, then "TolimIdbinbifor", Hermione mumbles.
"Look!" Ginny cries. "The hair speaks!"
"Just not very well," Harry agrees. "It really should learn to enunciate."
"I said," Hermione says, finally emerging out from under her hair, "that I told him I'd been before."
"Not just that you'd been before," Ginny snorts around another forkful of bacon and eggs and Hermione glares at her before continuing in a dignified tone.
"I told Blaise that I go every month with my family, that we love it and that I can't get enough of nature and being outdoors where there are spiders and leeches and - it is not funny Harry!"
Harry immediately regrets the sip of coffee he had as he fights to hold back his laughter, sure his face is turning purple and Hermione whacks him on the back. Harry doesn't think it's because she is worried about him choking.
He recovers enough to apologise. "Sorry Hermione, it's just that," he hesitates before continuing. "You're not the most outdoorsy person I've ever met."
Ginny snorts again. "Snape is more outdoorsy than she is," she corrects, referring to the university's resident slightly mad Science professor who practically lives in the lab. His course profile states that he 'does not expect students to really understand the subtle science of Chemistry and comprehend the beauty of the softly simmering beaker with its shimmering fumes'. Ginny thinks he is a freak. Hermione loves him.
"I'll be alright though, won't I?" Hermione stares at them both, worry etched across her features. "I mean, I've bought lots of books and things," she trails off, leaning over to search through the backpack. Ginny coughs slightly. Harry feels so sorry for her that he immediately starts babbling.
"Of course you will. Won't she Gin? You'll be fine, totally fine. I mean, granted, the one time I went hiking with the Dursley's was a complete disaster because Vernon got heatstroke and Petunia had a fit over the state of the toilets at the campsite-", Harry breaks off as he feels something kick him under the table and looks across to see Ginny frantically shaking her head at him and Hermione staring at him with a look of horror on her face. "Toilets? What is wrong with the toilets on a campsite Harry?" She demanded fiercely, brandishing the book she had taken out of the bag.
Harry closed his mouth and turned his head, eyes searching the ceiling for divine inspiration. None came.
"Um, they're sort of. Well, you know. It's like."
"Just tell her Harry," Ginny breaks in. "It will be better if she knows."
Harry takes a deep breath. "They're called 'long drops'."
"Long drops?" Hermione whispers, eyes glued on Harry's face, her brows furrowed. "But what does that even-" she breaks off, a look of appalled comprehension dawning on her face. "Is that," she begins uncertainly.
"Exactly what it sounds like? I'm afraid so." Ginny pats her arm sympathetically. "Never mind darling. Just bring some nose plugs. Can I have a look at what else you're taking?"
Hermione nods vaguely, looking slightly green as Ginny begins rifling through the bag.
"Oh awesome pants Hermione!" She pulls them out, inspecting them. "But," her brows contract. "Did you just buy these?"
Hermione starts and looks at her. "What? Oh. Yes. Why? Is there-" she breaks off suddenly and lunges for the pants, cheeks colouring. "Never mind that, Ginny, it's just-"
"Hermione, there are holes in them. And, is that," Ginny squints, "is that...Did you rub dirt on them?"
Hermione is a furious shade of red now and Ginny is laughing, shaking her head and saying, "I cannot believe you."
"What?" Harry asks, and Ginny smiles at him fondly through her because he can be a bit dim on occasion.
"I had to make it look as though I'd been before, didn't I? So I couldn't very well turn up with a pair of pants that looked new," Hermione reasoned. "And I'll take those, thank you, I have to go get changed. He'll be here in a minute." Hermione snatches the pants away from Ginny who is still laughing too much to care and shoves them back in the bag, standing up and sniffing haughtily.
She turns to make her way to the toilets and Ginny mumbles under her breath that she had better make the trip count and Harry cracks up again shovelling food into his face but Ginny has fallen silent, looking towards the front of the cafe with an expression on her face that Harry doesn't like to see unless it is directed towards him.
He turns and nearly swallows his fork, because Blaise Zabini is standing in the doorway. He is wearing a white Bonds T-shirt which seems to hug his torso in all the right places, contrasting perfectly with his dark skin as he glances around the cafe with a thousand-yard stare. Harry can't help but notice that he is, emphatically, a Very Good Looking Man, even though, and he wants to be absolutely clear about this, Harry is straight. This doesn't seem to stop words like 'rippling muscles' from running through his mind and he finally understands exactly why Ginny giggles every time his name is mentioned and why Hermione, the most sensible person he knows, is reduced to the sort of incoherent babbling mess who ruins new pairs of trousers and agrees to go on 15 kilometre hikes. Blaise is, Harry thinks, the sort of man that makes you want to renew your gym membership.
Across the table, Ginny is suddenly very aware of her tongue and she jumps as she feels Hermione touch her on the shoulder.
"Bloody buggering hell, he's here and oh. That'd be right," Hermione mumbles savagely. "He's wearing one of those bloody shirts."
Blaise's face breaks into a smile as he sees Hermione and he strolls over. Hermione pastes a bright smile onto her face and says, too cheerfully, "Well Hi! And how are you!" The exclamation marks can be clearly heard and Hermione hates herself because she sounds like a pre-school teacher.
"I'm fine thanks. You look nice." His deep voice practically caresses the air and Hermione blushes and tuts, playing idly with her hair. Beside her, Ginny swoons and Harry glares and Hermione hates them but at the same time is glad they are there because this way, she thinks, there will be someone around to witness her last words before she dies of embarrassment.
"Well! Enough lollygagging!" What? She thinks desperately, but there is no stopping herself now. "Let's get a move on or we'll miss the astronomical noon!" Whatwhat? Ginny is muttering 'ohmyGodohmyGodohmyGod' under her breath and Harry is just staring at Hermione as though he has never seen her before.
Blaise is looking at Hermione as though he loves her and he just smiles a bit and says, "of course, sure, we can't miss that. So let's get going," and he takes Hermione by the arm and leads her away and Harry and Ginny both let out a breath they didn't know they had been holding.
They sit there in shell-shocked silence for a minute, until Harry clears his throat and says, "I've been thinking."
Ginny looks at him curiously.
"I should get one of those t-shirts."
Ginny agrees.
Without the t-shirts she would have been safe. Safe in her English Lit class, content with her un-tanned lot in life, not knowing or even caring that there were people out there who did this sort of thing for fun, the idiots, but now she was here, trudging through the scrub, sweat pouring down her face and arms and back, going through this hell and it was all because of stupid Blaise Zabini and his stupid, stupid t-shirts.
Well, if she was honest with herself, it was also because of his back. And his arms. And his arse. There had been a reason she had suggested that he walk ahead of her in the first place and the view it had afforded was the only good thing about this hiking trip so far. There had been plenty of occasions where lunging over rocks had been rendered necessary and those moments almost (almost) made up for everything else.
Blaise stopped in front of her suddenly and bent over to remark about something, but Hermione, who hadn't been paying attention, ran straight into him and felt herself falling backwards, arms flailing uselessly in front of her and the weight of her backpack pulling her back into weightlessness for a moment til suddenly she was tumbling over and over down the mountain until she fell against something hard and cried out as a sharp pain split through her foot and she could hear Blaise yelling her name and suddenly he was beside her and, oh my God, she was crying and she tried to hide her face in her arm but realised she couldn't move them because they were stuck under her stupid, stupid backpack.
"Hermione, are you okay? Where does it hurt, what's wrong?" Blaise's deep voice is filled with worry and this only makes Hermione feel worse and she can't stop crying and then she is speaking like she has no control over her mouth, which is exactly how she found herself in this position in the first place.
"I don't even like hiking," Hermione wails pathetically. "I hate the outdoors, they make me itch and I've never even been on a hike before, I only said that because you're so into this sort of stuff and all, 'Mr Fit Man works-at-the-gym-gets-up-at-5am-to-do-yoga-before-making-your-own-chai-tea,'" but Blaise has cut her off with his laughter and Hermione huffs angrily, "Will people just stop laughing at me today?"
He calms down enough to squeeze out three, beautiful, exquisite words which make Hermione forget all about the pain in her ankle and the fact that her nose is blotchy and her eyes are red and her face is shiny with sweat.
"I hate hiking."
Hermione blinks. "You what?"
"I hate it," Blaise shrugs. "I only suggested it because you're always at the gym and then when I suggested it you seemed so excited that I thought, crap, well I'd better do it then, and I," he hesitates for a moment, something that might be a blush creeping up on his cheeks but he ploughs resolutely on. "I went and bought myself a pair of hiking boots and frayed the laces with a pair of scissors and put mud and leaves and stuff on the soles so that you would think I did this sort of thing all the time", he finishes quickly, before he can stop himself and Hermione is suddenly laughing and Blaise joins in but then he leans in abruptly; a serious look on his face.
"Does this mean that you aren't interested in seeing the astronomical noon?" He asks, tucking a stray curl behind Hermione's ear. She can feel her cheeks heating up as she places her arms around his neck.
"Blaise," she says solemnly, "I don't even know what the astronomical noon is."
"Thank God for that," Blaise laughs quietly and he covers her mouth with his, and Hermione thinks it is the best date she has ever been on.