**The Burrow, after Sunday lunch**

Dani

Dani decided that seeing as she was a walking disaster of a human, she might as well just go for it. She plonked herself down next to Hermione on the couch.

"I have a confession to make."

Hermione blinked at her, with that look of concern that seemed to be a permanent feature. Like she felt personally responsible for everyone and everything. Manager of the universe, or something.

"We have nothing in common. And I have ulterior motives, which I'll explain in a minute, but I want to be your friend."

Nothing quite as sophisticated as being a fully grown adult and fronting up to your ex-booty call's true love (probably) and asking to be friends. What an absolute loser.

To her surprise, Hermione blushed.

"R-really?"

"Yep. All those weird group dates, and I swear I spent half the time staring at you across the table thinking, damn, this woman is incredible, how the hell to I start a conversation I know nothing about enzymes."

"You don't need to know anything about enzymes-"

"Oh, I know. But you can't talk quidditch and I can't talk nerd, so. Difficult situation all round."

"I'm not that bad with quidditch, am I?"

"Dismal. It's like quidditch bounces off that big brain of yours. Don't worry, I have the same problem with spelling. And schedules. And- well. You get my point. We have no overlap, except Weasley and his family, and we can't just talk about them, and poor ol' Gin has to work really hard on those bizarre occasions when it's just the three of us. So."

Hermione frowned.

"Some of that may have been due to the fact that you were uh, involved with Ron, and that's always a little tricky for me… Are you saying your ulterior motives are to make life easier for Ginny?"

"Nope. That's a happy side effect. My ulterior motives are: I want to open a café, and I want your advice."

Hermione's face fell.

"I'm really sorry, I don't know anything about starting a business. But George could probably-"

"Yeah, no, not that bit. I just mean the planning, scheduling bit. Dunno if you've noticed, but I'm not great at, like, making myself do boring shit. And you are the absolute queen of making yourself do boring shit."

For a moment, it looked like Hermione was going to protest that all of her work was incredibly interesting. Then she gave a little sigh, and it sounded sad. Dani wanted to give her a hug, and a piece of mud cake and put on some trashy muggle movies, and call Ginny in from the garden, and have like, girl time. Hell, throw in Mrs Weasley and Angelina for good measure. Whip out some bottles of garish nail polish and go nuts.

"Look, everyone wants a piece of you, I just thought, rather than smarmying up to you, given I know I want your help, I should just up front say it. And frankly, I want to be friends regardless, but I know I won't be able to resist asking your advice, so. You might as well know now. Then, if you don't want to help, you can just say so, instead of feeling weirdly obliged because we're trying to be friends. You're really crap at saying 'no' to people. So I just want to make it very clear that 'no' is an acceptable answer, and I still want to be friends either way."

Confusingly, Hermione was now really blushing.

Oh god. Am I overdoing this? What if she thinks I'm hitting on her?

"Could you take me shopping?" Hermione blurted out, grabbing Dani's wrist. Dani rather thought she had no idea she'd done it.

"Huh?"

"If I help you with your café, could you take me shopping? You always look so comfortable, and I'm always so uncomfortable, and then when I try I get so bored and I end up just buying the same uncomfortable things all over again. And don't suggest I go with Ginny, I love her but we do not shop well together."

Dani grinned.

"Yeah, she's a nightmare. I made her try on a burlap sack once, and she still looked like she'd stepped out of a magazine. Drive you nuts."

"In fairness to me," said Ginny, wandering over and perching on the coffee table beside them, "I can't help being this athletic and glamourous. And need I point out, I can't wear dresses,"

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"No, she's right," Dani chuckled, "She can put them on. They look fabulous. But the second she moves it's like she's forgotten how to walk."

Ginny grinned.

"Ah, awesome, you guys are good. Is this what we do now? Talk about clothes?"

"We could talk about sex with your brother if you'd prefer?"

Ginny pulled a face.

"The only thing I have to say about that is you made her late to pick us up from the station after tryouts, and for that, you shall pay. Have you told her about the café yet?"

And Dani suddenly felt like the café might become a reality. Like with Ginny's blithe optimism, and Hermione's methodical seriousness, her dream could come true. Even though she'd flunked out of school and failed, failed, failed.

She could picture the décor and taste the food. She knew what kind of teapots she wanted, and what varieties of plants, and the type of music… she had the seasonal menu all planned out for a whole year, because that was the fun bit, and she longed for it, this version of herself that could open a café, and she'd been saving, and it wasn't that she wasn't working towards it, but she just… she just couldn't do it.

It was the forms. Filling out forms made her stomach seize up.

But with these two women in her corner… Dani found herself spilling her guts about all the things she couldn't bear to think about, the insurance, the lease, the suppliers, the banking, marketing, what on earth she would do if she got sick…

Hermione and Ginny just… made it all seem… possible.