The owl arrived that night, just as she was preparing for bed. It was brief and to the point.
G-
Friday evening, at seven sharp. Wear something nice. I'll stop by.
-S
It was horribly annoying how he thought he could just name a time and date, and she would have nothing else to do that night. She didn't- but that wasn't the point. She wanted to be asked. And his comment "wear something nice," that really peeved her. Did he think she couldn't dress properly without his guidance? Annoying bastard.
She wished she hadn't agreed to go on this stupid- was it a date? - dinner. She was still not over the Ronald thing, and she has better things to do. Well, not better exactly. But more important. Perhaps she should cancel.
Taking out a quill and ink, she sat down to write a quick reply.
S-
Perhaps a request to dinner would make me more inclined to accept. And you wear something nice. You won't stop by; you don't know where I live.
-G
She tied it to the black owl, impatiently waiting with its leg extended. After she finished tying it, the beast pecked her hand, and then flew off only to leave a pile of bird shit for her to clean up.
"Damn bird!" she yelled after the retreating dot.
After she cleaned it up and washed her hands, she found she was no longer tired. Something about an aggravating beast, and an irritating man left her restless and unsoothed. She fell back onto her green sofa, and pulled her favorite love-worn quilt over her. She grabbed The Awakening that was sitting on the coffee table, and flipped it open.
She read for quite sometime, getting to the last chapter, when there was a tapping at her window. "Oh, what now?"
Hermione opened the window, only to let the same owl in that had been such a bitch earlier. Instead of the letter being tied to its leg, it was held in the owl's beak. So it quickly dropped off the letter and left. Perhaps a reply was not needed?
She ripped open the seal and read.
G-
You already accepted my offer, therefore no request is needed. As to my attire for the evening, I always dress impeccably. And I do know where you live.
-S
Post Script: use your own owl to reply, I will not have you abusing mine.
S-
Your damn owl was abusing me! Not the other way around! It pecked me and then proceeded to shit on my window seal. And yes, I already accepted your offer to dinner, but it still would be nice to have you ask. How do you know that I don't have a prior engagement? And are you insinuating that I don't dress impeccably? And how the bloody hell do you know where I live?
-G
G-
Too many questions, as usual. I'll ignore the accusations against my owl. I know you don't have a prior engagement, because you would have said so to begin with. You also, should watch your language. It isn't something fitting for a young lady of education. I don't really know how you normally dress, so I can't say.
-S
The letters passed back and forth for the rest of the night, and well into the morning. They were snippy and sarcastic, and biting and witty. Both secretly enjoyed the banter, and even more secretly looked forward to the dinner on Friday. And by the time Hermione fell asleep, she was thinking the only question that was never answered. How the hell did he know where she lived?
And that, my young lovers, is the second part to this chapter. I am thinking about making it one chapter longer, but I would need some reviews for that. And if it does get one longer, I'll make it its own story.
Yours in Eloquence