This is sort of a Muggle!AU, Actor!AU, and Online Dating!AU (that last one might be a stretch) all rolled into one. :p
ScarBoy01 and BrainyBookworm555
Today was the day. The day Hermione would be meeting ScarBoy01.
She was, understandably, quite apprehensive about the prospect of meeting someone she had only talked to online, but they had been chatting for nearly two years, and after many failed attempts to meet up, had finally locked down a time and place.
She arrived at the chosen venue early to scope out the place and to ensure that she knew where the exits were (just in case). It was a cozy little pub, which wouldn't have been her first choice, but Harry hadn't seemed interested in meeting at the library or even at a restaurant. Maybe he wanted to be able to make a quick escape if he needed, and a meal would have hindered that.
She shook her head, trying to clear the negative thoughts away. ScarBoy (he refused to give her his real name, but Hermione hadn't given hers either — he knew her only as BrainyBookworm555) seemed too polite to do something so cruel. Granted, it was easy for people to lie about who they were online, but Hermione considered herself a good judge of character, and two years seemed like a long time to pretend to be someone else.
Well, as it turned out, she was only right on one of those counts.
...
"You're ScarBoy01?" Hermione struggled to pick her jaw up off the floor. "But you're—you're Harry Potter!"
The dark-haired, bespectacled man sitting across from her nodded. "Yeah, I guess I am."
"God, I feel like such an idiot. No wonder you didn't want to give me your name." Hermione's shock quickly became anger. "You've kept a lie up for nearly two years! How do you sleep at night?"
"With a very comfy pillow," Harry joked. When she glared at him, he added, "Sorry. Did you want something to drink, a beer, maybe?"
"No, thank you. I don't drink alcohol," she sniffed. "Alcohol is for people who can afford to lose a few brain cells."
"Guess that explains a lot about me, eh?" Harry chuckled. He signalled to the bartender and asked for a beer, which was poured for him immediately.
"It's on the house," the bartender said, clapping him on the arm.
"Cheers, mate," Harry said, lifting his glass.
Hermione raised an eyebrow. "They give you free drinks here?"
"They give me free drinks anywhere," he said with a smile. "That's kind of what happens when you're a famous actor."
Hermione folded her arms tightly against her chest. "Don't ask me if I've seen your movies. I refuse to entertain such egotistical nonsense."
"I wasn't—" Harry began, but he was quickly interrupted by a loud squeal.
"Oh my God, it's Harry Potter!"
The voice belonged to a brunette who threw herself unabashedly at Harry as soon as she was close enough to do so.
"Hi, I'm Romilda, Romilda Vane, and I'm a huge fan of your work," she said, gazing adoringly up at him. "Can I say, it is an absolute pleasure to finally meet you."
"Oh, is that what you're doing?" Hermione asked dryly. "It rather looks like you're trying to sit in his lap."
Romilda shot Hermione a nasty look while Harry blushed. "Ron!" he said to the redheaded man sitting a few stools down. "Do you mind?"
Ron popped up from his seat and nodded. "Come with me, miss," he told Romilda.
Romilda didn't go quietly, but finally, Ron managed to wrestle her away and Hermione and Harry were left alone once more. Well, aside from Ron, who was apparently Harry's bodyguard.
"Sorry about that," Harry said sheepishly. He appeared to be trying to flatten his hair with his fingers, although whether it was for her benefit or merely a nervous habit, Hermione wasn't sure.
She waved a hand. "I suppose I'd better get used to it."
...
Just as Hermione predicted, Romilda was not the last person to accost Harry or invade his personal space. Hermione began to feel rather sorry for the man. No wonder he had taken to finding conversation online, where no one knew who he was. She suspected that most people only talked to him because they wanted in on his fame and fortune.
Ron dealt with the nosy patrons with ease, leaving Harry and Hermione free to talk and eat Shepherd's pie. As the evening progressed, Hermione began to forget who she was with. It was just like she was back home on her computer, typing out messages to ScarBoy01. Harry was funny, forthcoming, and more than a little self-deprecating. Hermione especially enjoyed hearing about the process of making movies from an actor's viewpoint and learning more about where Harry took inspiration from.
After some time, Hermione became aware of a curly-haired blonde watching them intently. She felt uncomfortable, but as the woman technically wasn't doing anything wrong, she didn't want to say anything to Harry or Ron and cause a scene.
Finally, however, the woman decided to approach them instead.
"Harry, darling!" she cried.
"Rita Skeeter," Harry said through clenched teeth. "What are you doing here?"
"Just keeping tabs on your love life, sweetheart." She leaned in closer and whispered, "Did you miss me?"
He shuddered. "Go to hell."
"Oh, I've been there, thank you," she said, her smile revealing pointy teeth. "I found it quite lovely. Now, who is your charming companion this evening?"
By now, Ron had appeared at Harry's side. "Miss Skeeter, I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave Harry alone."
"That's quite all right," she said loftily. She made a shooing motion towards Ron, and Hermione caught a glimpse of neon green nails. "I got what I came for."
Once she had departed, Hermione looked between Harry and Ron. "'Got what she came for?' What did she mean?"
Harry let out a deep sigh. "That's Rita Skeeter. She's a...gossip reporter, of sorts. I imagine our little rendezvous will make the front page of the Prophet tomorrow thanks to her."
"Oh," Hermione said faintly. It hadn't even occurred to her that people might be interested in that sort of rubbish. "I'm sorry."
Harry's look was puzzled as he asked, "Why are you sorry? It's not your fault she's a total cow."
Hermione laughed. "I suppose not. But I'm sure it must be very embarrassing for you."
"I'm used to it," Harry said with a shrug. "Besides, there are worse people I could have been spotted with."
"At least there's a silver lining," Hermione said with a smile.
Harry grinned back, his green eyes sparkling. "Most definitely. I'm so glad we finally got to do this. I really like you, Hermione."
Hermione blushed. "I really like you, too."
...
All in all, Hermione quite enjoyed her date with Harry, and was glad that she had taken a leap of faith in meeting him. Though he didn't share her love for reading, she supposed she might be able to see past that. She definitely wanted to see him again, if only to make sure that the night hadn't been a fluke.
He walked her up to the door of her flat and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Goodnight, Hermione."
"Goodnight, Harry." Her heart was racing — she couldn't believe a chaste kiss had made her feel so warm inside.
As soon as he was gone, she suddenly thought to check for paparazzi, but to her relief, she didn't see anyone suspicious hanging around. Once inside the flat, she went straight to her bedroom and changed into her nightclothes. After brushing her teeth, she returned to her room and sank onto the bed, exhausted.
She glanced at her mobile and sighed. It felt too soon to text him and tell him she'd had a wonderful time, but he deserved to know.
Harry, thanks for a lovely night
x Hermione
She read it over once, nodded, and hit send.
She fell asleep before she could see his reply.
Hope 2 do it again soon!
x Harry
Word count: 1,327
