Disclaimer: No, I don't own Harry Potter. Thank you for asking!
A/N: Where are you guys? I think I got one review for that last chapter and now I feel sad and alone. Pity me and review! (Thanks to sporty12gd4u for the review!)
"Ginny!" Hermione screeched. "I can't wear that! Look how short it is!"
Ginny sighed. "Really, Hermione! Are you going to leave the house in anything less than floor-length?" She pointed and mimicked a horrified person. "Good gracious! You can see her ankles! How shocking! How dreadfully scandalous! How-"
"Please, Ginny!" Hermione cried. "I am so nervous!" She moved aside Ginny's short blue skirt and sat on the bed. Her date with Dean was in an hour and she was far from ready. "Do you want to hear a secret?" Ginny nodded and sat next to her. "Promise not to laugh?" Getting an affirmative, she continued. "This is my first real date."
"You're joking!" Ginny exclaimed. "You're twenty-one and you've never been on a date?"
"Not a single one." Hermione replied solemnly.
Now Ginny really did look horrified. "If only I'd known! I would have set you up forever ago! My God!"
Hermione, now thoroughly uncomfortable, tried to change the subject. "How's this one?" she asked, holding up a green sweater and a pair of black jeans.
"Twenty-one!" Ginny said, still in shock.
Hermione threw the outfit aside and held up a long black dress.
"Never been on a date!"
Hermione glared and held up a plaid gingham knee-length. That snapped Ginny out of it. "Are you trying to look schoolmarmish?" she asked. Seeing Hermione's death glare, she bit her lip. Her eyes lit up. She went to the dresser and pulled out a navy below-the-knee skirt and a light blue sweater.
The girls eyed it appraisingly. "Perfect!" they chorused.
After Hermione changed, Ginny put her hair up in a French twist. Proclaiming that Hermione needed jewelry, Ginny supplied her with a frail silver necklace and a charm bracelet. "Good." she finally said, surveying Hermione appraisingly. Hermione was further embarrassed when she went downstairs and Fred did the same thing. Hermione was about to ask Fred what was with him but before she got a chance, the doorbell rang.
Ginny hugged her friend. "Good luck, and whatever you do, don't talk about work!"
"Oh, come on!" Hermione protested. "I don't talk about work that much!"
Ginny and Fred exchanged glances. "Yes, you do." they said in unison.
Hermione opened the door to Dean, who offered her his arm. Hermione took it awkwardly. Ginny said, "Bye, guys!" and Fred called, "Have her back by eleven!"
"You got it!" Dean laughed.
An hour later, Hermione sat in the posh restaurant miserably. Her first date was shaping up to be a complete disaster. Just walking into the restaurant she'd gotten her heel stuck in a storm drain, tripped, and managed to acquire a foot-long run in her pantyhose. She was not meant for this kind of thing.
Dean seemed to be concentrating on his meal, which relieved Hermione immensely. The first forty minutes of forced conversation had been murder. Dean had told her how nice she looked no fewer than six times, and Hermione knew the status of each of Dean's family members by heart. Finally, Hermione had hit rock bottom and commented on the weather. Dean had stopped trying to make conversation after that.
After several minutes of silence, Hermione said, "So, what are you doing? At work, I mean."
Dean smiled at her fakely. "I actually work for the Ministry team that regulates apparating. You know, testing for apparition licences and such. What do you do? I know you work for the Ministry, too, but what division are you with?"
That got her started. She explained in depth the function of her job, the project she was working on at the moment, and the promotion she was due to receive. Finally, shenoticed that Dean's eyes were glazed over and realized she should stop. "Sorry." she apologized sheepishly. "I just get carried away sometimes."
Dean nodded wanly. "It's alright. I know how it is. I could talk about Quidditch all day."
"Right." Hermione said, hoping he wouldn't get started. She had never really seen the big deal with Quidditch. Of course, her "Right." had just killed the conversation, so she didn't have to worry.
Awkward silence.
Hermione pulled her napkin off her lap. "I think I'll just go to the ladies' room." Anything to get away. Dean seemed to be okay with it as well; no doubt he was hoping she'd stay in there for the rest of the night.
Hermione stood, and her charm bracelet caught on the tablecloth. As though she was watching in slow motion, she saw the tablecloth tip her water glass, which was, of course, filled with the complimentary ice water that nobody ever drinks. The water streamed over the edge of the table and into Dean's lap. Dean yelped and reared back. His chair fell backward and crashed into the table of a young couple behind him, who stared at him, stunned.
Hermione gasped. "I am so sorry!" She brought her hands to her mouth, which was unfortunate, as the tablecloth was still stuck on her bracelet. This knocked over the lit candle on the table, which set Dean's napkin on fire. Hermione wrenched her bracelet free, leaving a hole in the tablecloth, and grabbed Dean's full wine glass, which she used to douse the fire.
The restaurant sat in bewildered silence. Everyone was watching Hermione, who looked about to cry. "Sorry!" she said meekly. She reached down a hand to help Dean up, but he instinctively scooted away from her and got up, tentatively, by himself.
Hermione wanted the earth to open up and swallow her. She bit her lip as Dean called a waiter for napkins. After toweling himself off, he turned to an abashed Hermione. "It's alright. It could have happened to anyone." he said, as kindly as he could while his pants were dripping with ice water.
Hermione nodded. "Okay. Sorry." Pause. "Can we go home now?"
Dean nodded back. "Good idea. Let's call it a night."
Hermione had never been so relieved. They maintained an embarrassed silence during the car ride home. As she stepped out of the car, Hermione attempted a joke. "So, same time tomorrow?"
Only she must not have sounded as if she were joking, because Dean answered mildly, "Uh, sure. Dancing?"
Hermione's worst nightmare had come true. But he had asked her, and she was too shy to say no. "Sounds good. And I'm sorry about the whole tablecloth thing."
Dean looked anxious to leave. Maybe it was because it was twenty degrees outside and his pants were soaked with ice water, but regardless, he said, "It's fine. I'll see you tomorrow." He even attempted a smile before he sped away, which was more than Hermione would have done, she reflected.
Hermione stood in the driveway and smacked her forehead with her palm. She had accidentally made a date to go dancing with him! Why the hell had she done that?
A/N: Please review, guys. I'm really trying to get this finished, but it was originally only supposed to be five chapters, and I've already written ten. So, if it isn't finished before Christmas, you know why. Remember: Pity me and review!