Welcome to the Jungle
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, or Glee. All recognisable characters, content, or locations belong to their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended.
Part One: Fifteen
Chapter Ten: Stuff and Nonsense
The Steam House on Saturday mornings is always crowded, which leaves little time for conversation between Ron, Hermione, and Harry. It's the only day all three of them have the same shift, and because they're on their feet the whole morning, delivering food to tables, and clearing away emptied dishes and the like, it's a particularly demanding one. Nevertheless, they've since mastered the art of managing conversations in the brief lulls in the cafe's activity, and of course, this particular day's topic of conversation is Harry's plans that evening.
"Do you know what you're doing yet?" Ron asks.
You'd hope so," Hermione quips.
"Thank you, Hermione," Harry deadpans, "If you must know, yes, I've got a plan. Reservations, even."
Ron and Hermione, pretending to be thoroughly impressed, gasp theatrically, but they don't get much of a chance to laugh about it. Instead, duty calls, and they disperse as the motion picks up again, Hermione headed to one of her emptied tables, Ron to the counter, and Harry into the kitchen. He delivers the orders that have been filled, Ron the coffees that have been made, and Hermione returns to the kitchen with the used crockery, and as they cross paths again, their conversation continues.
"Where are you going? What are you doing?" Hermione prods.
"You know that new Spanish restaurant that opened a few weeks ago? Hermosa? I'm taking her there."
It had taken a bit of research, but Harry had settled on the idea the night prior. It's got some great food, according to his very selective mother, and they've also got some live music. Nothing too demanding, just some Spanish guitar and occasionally some accompanying vocals, but it'd be enough to break the ice, if necessary. Moreover, exotic cuisines have been (and still are) an enormous part of his life, and as far as first dates go, it seems like an ideal way to introduce Quinn to the parts of him she doesn't already know. He'd briefly considered bowling or ice-skating, but he has no idea about how she feels regarding shoe/skate rentals, and thus, both possibilities have been set aside for another day.
"Classy," Ron compliments. Harry smirks. "I try."
"Don't get her flowers," Hermione advises.
"I wasn't going to."
Hermione nods her approval. "That's good. They're way too outdated, and give off the impression that you want her to like you."
"Isn't that the point of a date?" Ron appears baffled. He's got an on and off (presently on) flirtation, friends with benefits sort of thing, with one of Quinn's fellow cheerleaders, Lavender, but dates aren't exactly what they get up to when they get together. He's supportive though, if bemused by the thought of dating a member of WMHS' Celibacy Club, and that's about all Harry can really ask of him.
Hermione sighs, exasperated. "No, Ron, it isn't."
As Hermione speaks, their team supervisor, Gemma, scowls at them from her place behind the counter. Although they're the same age, she's not quite as personable as Penelope, but just as efficient and authoritative, and the sight of her glare makes them scatter with guilty grimaces and suppressed chuckles. They've got plans to grab lunch together after their shift, and evidently, the rest of their conversation will have to wait until then. In the meantime, they've got a lot of work to keep them busy, and a few hours until they're free for the afternoon.
-!- -#-
Viktor picks them up shortly after midday, and they find themselves at Breadsticks. It's packed, but the four of them have a booth to themselves, complimentary breadsticks to tide them over until their meals arrive, and enough conversation to keep them entertained. Krum's fairly quiet, which means he mostly observes and listens, but Hermione appears unconcerned, and thus Harry assumes it's not unusual for him.
Hermione and Viktor, as a couple, aren't particularly demonstrative in public, and it's something Harry can appreciate. More so is the conversation they get into regarding the European Premier League's in football (re: soccer). Interestingly enough, Hermione's father has taught her to appreciate the game, so it's a topic the four of them talk about for most of the hour and a half it takes for them to leave the restaurant.
"You enjoy football, yes? Soccer, here?" Viktor asks. They're in his car, on the way to Harry's house, and Ron's already been dropped off. Hermione's flicking through her iPod, attempting to settle on a song they can all tolerate, but given that her iPod has an embarrassing number of bubblegum pop hits, she's not having much luck.
"Yeah," Harry confirms. It's a game he's played since he was little, introduced and taught to him by his father, played in elementary school, in middle school, in a club unaffiliated with either. He follows the British, European, and American Leagues alongside his father and sister, has a favourite team and player and game, so yes, he likes soccer. He loves it, in fact.
"Why do you not play?"
Harry shrugs. "I'm a striker, and Hooch already had three of them. I didn't want to be a reserve, and I like football well enough."
"You will try next year, then?" Viktor asks, "I will not be here."
"I don't know," Harry admits, "I've thought about it, but I'm not sure yet."
It's tempting, but Harry's already made a commitment to the football team. Moreover, as arrogant as it sounds, he's the best QB Tanaka's got, and he has no interest in leaving his friends in the lurch. Finn could manage it in a pinch, but his accuracy is shit, and he's better on the defence line-up than not. As such, Harry's torn, but he's got a lot of time to think on it. He says as much, and Viktor nods his agreement.
They drive on in silence, and eventually, Krum pulls up at the curb in front of Harry's house. His dad's in the yard, mowing the lawn, and as Harry gets out of the car, Viktor and Hermione both offer him their best wishes for his date with Quinn.
"Thanks," Harry acknowledges, smiling, "For the lift as well, Krum. I appreciate it."
"It is no problem," Krum answers, "We are living close by."
"You guys will have to come by some time. Maybe when a game is on or something."
Hermione leans against her car door, and her chestnut curls float prettily around her face. "That sounds like a great idea, Harry, but we can talk about it later. You need to get ready for tonight, and Viktor has to get me home before dad mobilises a search party."
Harry laughs as Viktor pulls out of the driveway, and waves them off as they drive out of sight. His dad watches, propped against the handlebar of the rumbling lawn mower like some kind of demented sentinel, and Harry approaches him on weary feet.
"How was work?" James greets.
Harry shrugs, nonchalant. "It was work."
His dad nods his acknowledgement, and changes the subject. "You've got your debit card, yes? I've transferred 250 dollars from your savings account into your checking account, so you're set for tonight. You should have some cash on you, just in case. Do you?"
Harry nods his confirmation. It's not the first time he's been instructed thus.
"Good. Make sure your phone is charged."
"Will do, Dad. Thanks."
"No problem, kiddo," James answers. Harry's still short enough - albeit barely - that it's easy for the man to ruffle his hair, and he does so with a grin. "Now, get inside. I believe there's a load of laundry to be folded, and it has your name on it."
"Goodie." Harry grimaces, but acquiesces without protest. He can, at least, sit down while he's doing it, and better yet, it means he's not being wrangled into helping with the yard. His feet are killing him, so he'll take his victories where he can get them.
Author's Note: I had intended for the date to be in this chapter, but it didn't really want to work that way. Also, it's difficult to come up with a chapter title, that is also a song title, when literally nothing happens in this chapter. I thought about 'The Long Day Is Over' by Nora Jones, but then I settled on this one instead.