Chapter 16

It was time. And Hermione was nervous. Logically, she shouldn't have been; she had spent a relatively large amount of time with Thorfinn since he had entered her life. Even so, logic had been thrown out of the window and she was undeniably restless. Ginny, on the other hand, was almost vibrating with excitement in the seat beside her. The common room was moderately empty seeing as it was the first Monday of the Easter holidays. While most students had opted for a lie in, Ginny had risen at the crack of dawn and had not left Hermione's side since.

"You're panicking," noted Ginny, as Hermione glanced at the nearby clock to see that it had just gone five to ten.

"Oh, really?" Hermione responded waspishly. "Whatever gave you that idea?" Ginny, being the good friend that she was, did not call her out for snapping. Instead, the redhead waited diligently by her side as the minutes crept by at a painfully slow space. Hermione's anxiety seemed to have stemmed from the classic palaver of not knowing what to wear. Ginny couldn't blame her for her panic either; Rowle had given absolutely no indication in regards to what the date actually entailed. After much deliberation, they had settled on white trainers with slightly fitted blue jeans, paired up with a pastel pink top and statement denim jacket. Ginny had entered the ring for round two against Hermione's hair earlier in the morning and while it was down her back as she often had it, it was decidedly less frizzy and maintained more elegant waves.

"OK seriously 'Mione, stop freaking out," sighed Ginny. Hermione glanced at her nervously and that was when the inspirational speech from one strong witch to another began. "Right. It doesn't matter what the date is, you look bloody fit! Honestly, I'll be surprised if Rowle isn't tripping over his own feet the whole time. You need to stop worrying – get back your Gryffindor courage for Merlin's sake – because Rowle seems to like you for you. And you are a strong, independent, intelligent, and outrageously bad-arse witch! He's expecting that you and I expect you to show him that you."

"Well said, Ginny!" cheered Angelina Johnson, who had been seated in a nearby armchair that was unintentionally within earshot of the conversation.

"Cheers Angelina," replied a bashful Ginny, "I'll be here all week." Angelina laughed at the comment before going back to her Quidditch related magazine.

"All right," Hermione said slowly, inhaling a couple of deep breaths. Her posture gradually straightened and along with it came a slightly more confident exuberance. Ginny looked very much proud of herself as she pulled Hermione up from the sofa, her eyes roaming over her in what was one last outfit check.

"OK, it's time. You look great, you smell fab – seriously you'll have to give me the name of that perfume when you get back later… you're coming across confident and in control. This is it, 'Mione. You're coming back home spoken for, I'm absolutely sure. No pressure, though."

"Oh, yes, no pressure at all Gin," retorted Hermione as she rolled her eyes.

"Now, after all I've done, I'm technically the third member of this relationship and I am expecting you to name your first born after me."

There was a pregnant pause. It was rather fitting.

"Pardon?"

"Ginevra if the child is a girl… and if it's a boy, well I suppose I could settle for being the godmother-"

Hermione sprinted out of the common room faster than she had ever moved in her life. Angelina Johnson was absolutely creasing with laughter inside and Ginny seemed to be cackling along with her. Hermione soon realised that it had been less on the serious side and rather had the intention of easing her tension before meeting with Thorfinn. It seemed to have worked for a second too. However, the moment she found him outside, some of the nervousness resurfaced in the form of her stomach twisting. He was unreasonably attractive. In fact, it was rather annoying just how attractive he was.

Thorfinn Rowle was looking more muggle than she had ever seen him and Hermione knew in that moment that she much preferred that fashion on him over the traditional wizarding styles. He was wearing a pair of slightly worn black trainers that she suspected he had owned before travelling from Durmstrang, as well as jeans in a very dark navy and a coal crew neck t-shirt that fit his body spectacularly. She took a second to pray that Lavender Brown had not seen him; the short sleeves were insanely tight around his arms and if her roommate had seen no one would ever hear the end of it.

Then Thorfinn smiled at her and she didn't think that she had ever seen him look so charming. It was all because of the muggle clothing, she was sure of it. He had always been very handsome but this was just… more so than usual, Hermione supposed, and Merlin was she unprepared.

"You look nice," he said, breaking the silence between the two. It was then that Hermione noticed that he was looking at her just as she was looking at him; that fact made it decidedly less embarrassing for her. While he had offered a rather simple compliment – instead of bursting out into a heartfelt soliloquy that would have undoubtedly made her cringe exponentially – it still had the desired effect. It was genuine and the simplicity was very Thorfinn. And that made her feel special.

"Thank you," Hermione finally responded, "you do as well." Honestly, she had no idea why she suddenly felt so awkward. They had pulled on more than one occasion for crying out loud! They'd crossed that line and she recalled those moments with a huge capacity of fondness. Perhaps it was because this was their first proper date if they excluded the Yule Ball, which had technically been a school event that Thorfinn had been obligated to attend anyway. But then, she wondered what exactly the date would be, since they had done pretty much all there was to do in the castle already… well, other than shag in an old broom cupboard. Hermione firmly told herself that that was not her style and despite Thorfinn looking particularly appealing in full muggle attire she still remained firm in telling herself no.

"You're thinking very hard," chuckled Thorfinn, an expression of amusement on his face. Hermione rolled her eyes at his comment but didn't deny it, allowing herself a small smile when he took her hand in his own. As Thorfinn led her through Hogwarts, she noticed that he had come to know the castle rather well. Even so, Hermione was still more accustomed; she realised where they were going when they were still a good minute or so away.

"If your surprise is tea and biscuits with Professor McGonagall-"

"It isn't," Thorfinn laughed. Actually laughed. It was certainly an 'I know something you don't' laugh, but it was so authentic that Hermione could not summon a feeling of annoyance. She'd noticed that he didn't seem to laugh all that much, but when he did it was usually with her. Thorfinn had spent the majority of his existence in either serious or distressing places, so she assumed he had never had much of a reason. It was nice to know that she was helping him see another aspect of life.

"So why are we outside her office?" questioned Hermione, watching as he knocked on the door before waltzing in with a definite sense of familiarity. It shocked her slightly, seeing as not many people had the audacity to enter the space of Professor McGonagall without explicit permission. Professor McGonagall was seated at her desk and did not look at all surprised to see Thorfinn. Other than a slight pinched expression, the transfiguration teacher seemed to be purposely ignoring their presence.

"Good morning, professor!" Thorfinn said jovially, pulling Hermione over towards the floo as McGonagall rolled her eyes at his demeanour.

"Behave yourself, Rowle," Professor McGonagall commented offhandedly, her gaze not leaving the tall stack of marking.

"Of course, professor," chortled Thorfinn, holding out the small pot of floo powder towards Hermione. "So… since Hogwarts is pretty much impossible to travel to and from, Professor McGonagall has graciously offered use of her personal floo." The woman mentioned made a noise of disagreement in response to the comment. Thorfinn cleared his throat before continuing. "Anyway, we'll be going through to my family's manor and I'll apparate us from there. I'll go through first – so you can hear the pronunciation – and if you don't appear within two minutes after I'll assume you're sipping on a cocktail on a beach in Cornwall. Sound good?" Hermione had no chance to reply. "Great," he said, collecting some powder from the pot in Hermione's hand. "Rowle Manor!"

"Did he really just…"

"I believe so, Miss Granger," said Professor McGonagall as the green flames dissipated. "Nevertheless, I suggest you go on through. Mr Rowle put a ludicrous amount of effort into nagging me about leaving the grounds."

"Oh, I don't doubt it, professor," Hermione replied with a slight laugh, gathering some powder for herself before putting the pot back where Thorfinn had taken it from. "Rowle Manor!" she called out, being immediately greeted by the magical fire. Moments later, Hermione stepped out into what she assumed to be a rather ominous drawing room.

"Bit grim, isn't it?" asked Thorfinn, who had taken a seat on one of the dark maroon sofas.

"Well, I wouldn't say that…" trailed off Hermione, "though I would say that your family certainly had a specific… taste."

"That's putting it very politely," he commented. Although it was supposed to be a room for entertaining guests, the drawing room was rather dark. There were a few windows that were supposed to let light in, but they did not appear to do a very good job. The colour scheme was awfully bland and the room was lacking welcoming decoration; even the meticulous coffee table carvings maintained a dispiriting aura. "So," Thorfinn started, casually approaching Hermione and taking her hand once more. "How familiar are you with side-along?"

"Not very," admitted Hermione, looking both curious and slightly nervous.

"Oh, you're going to love it."

"Now I'm ten times more worried than I was a minute ago," she deadpanned.

"It'll be fine," chuckled Thorfinn. "I won't even let you lose your balance – catching you would be far more beneficial for me anyway." Hermione rolled her eyes, aware of his insinuations. "It might be a bit uncomfortable for you, but you'll be back to normal after a minute or so. Trust me, it'll be worth it. I've been doing a lot of planning since I was made aware that it'd be something you'd appreciate."

"Alright," said Hermione, sounding far more confident than she was feeling. "I'm ready when you are." Thorfinn gave her a reassuring nod and they disapparated from the manor with an audible crack. When they landed in an unsightly muggle back alley, Hermione's first thought was that she was going to throttle Thorfinn for drastically downplaying the discomfort of side-along apparition. Then, the nausea set in, and somehow she just knew that it was Thorfinn's arms that were wrapped cautiously around her waist as he held her steady from behind.

"Deep breaths," he muttered, his hot breath brushing up against her ear. "You're doing very well, you know? First time Karkaroff side-alonged me I threw up." Hermione's head fell back against his prominent chest and her eyes were shut tightly; she was clearly trying to shake off the lightheaded sensation brought with the nausea. The muggle city continued to cause a ruckus all around them, and while Thorfinn was already on edge as a result of his muggle world paranoia, Hermione still had no comprehension of where they were currently standing.

"You are such a prat," she groaned out eventually, forcibly swallowing down a nasty gag that accompanied her words.

"Sorry," Thorfinn said, tightening his hold on her slightly. "I thought it would be best not to be dramatic about the effects. The last thing I wanted was you freaking out and accidently getting yourself splinched."

"You're still a prat," mumbled Hermione.

"A caring prat."

"But still a prat." Hermione stated, finally opening her eyes as she was feeling slightly better. Even though Thorfinn had withheld the severity, he had been right about her recovering within a few minutes. She took a moment to observe their surroundings and the sight was far from pretty. It was almost as if he had chosen to take her to the most unsavoury place he could think of. There were rows of commercial bins in a rainbow of colours at the far end of the alley, and there was a damp, humid smell that her nose seemed to vehemently object to. There were also various pieces of litter scattered throughout the entire backstreet, with the most noticeable reoccurring items being bottles, cans, and disintegrating cigarette packets. "Thorfinn, I understand the need for secrecy and the legal ramifications, but did you really have to choose what is quite possibly the dingiest alley in all of London?"

"We're not in London." Thorfinn stated bluntly.

"Then we're…" Hermione started, cutting herself off as a look of recognition quickly appeared on her face. "You've brought us to Manchester?" Thorfinn nodded and she noticed how he'd frequently break eye contact to scan their surroundings. The action reminded her of Mad-Eye Moody. Constant vigilance! "Why would you choose to come here? I know we never touch on a lot of the specifics of your time here, but it's always been glaringly obvious that whatever happened here is what shaped your opinion on muggles and the world."

"I understand why you're confused, Hermione," he said, "and I won't lie and say that being back in the muggle world is easy to stomach. I suppose you could say that I happened upon a source of wisdom, and it was pointed out to me that with everything going on at the moment, the muggle world is the best opportunity for privacy and a normal date. Then, I also came to realise that I need to at least be able to brave the muggle world if I want to continue to spend so much time with you; the muggle world is a part of who you are and I know you would not change who you are for me – nor would I wish you to do so." A nervous sensation settled within Thorfinn's chest when it looked like Hermione might cry. But then she all but flung herself at him and wrapped him up in a tight, thankful hug.

"Thank you," she said softly. "Do you think you could let me know where we're going now?"

"Bowling." Thorfinn stated with a slight smirk, keeping an arm around her shoulders as they made a move to exit the alley. Hermione simply pressed herself further into his side and used her right hand to hold the limb that was currently dangling over the front of her shoulder. "As far as muggle things go, I don't think there's much that can beat bowling," he explained. "Course, I've only been twice and it was years ago so I'm expecting to be thrashed and have already come to terms with my masculinity being tarnished."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," laughed Hermione. "My parents always used to win when we went. Dad always used to make fun of me for being terrible, too. I just don't appear to have any semblance of coordination when it comes to sports."

"It'll be more fun then, I'm sure," he said, pulling her in the direction of a large building. "Let's go and embarrass ourselves, shall we?" Hermione laughed at that and they soon found themselves carelessly flinging bowling balls and cheering in the typically British way whenever either of them knocked down a fair amount of pins. Luckily, the Hogwarts Easter holidays did not fall around the same date as the schools in Manchester, meaning that the alley was fairly quiet and they could be as disruptive as they wished. After three games – of which Hermione won two and Thorfinn scraped a win during the final one – the duo ventured out in search of somewhere good to have lunch.

It was obvious to Hermione that Thorfinn had had the ways of a pureblood gentleman placed upon him during his time at Durmstrang. In all honesty, she had expected a very fancy restaurant and was unsure of how she felt about the idea. Naturally, Thorfinn had managed to surprise her yet again. He took her to a pub. A very nice one, in fact. It was a quaint establishment and was named The Brown Lamb. Just like the bowling alley, The Brown Lamb was rather quiet; Thorfinn appeared to be noticeably less tense once they were inside and he had found a seat that put his back to the wall.

Hermione had soon taken a liking to The Brown Lamb. It was a classic British pub in every sense yet had a particularly pleasant atmosphere. It had one of those distinctive ugly carpets taking up the floor and to balance it out there were walls that were half wooden planks (starting from the floor, finishing halfway up) and half painted in a light crimson. There were a couple of televisions scattered around playing a variety of muggle sports and there was also a kind faced young woman manning the bar.

The two had a remarkably lovely lunch of pub fish and chips, with Thorfinn vowing to try the beef burger if they ever returned for another meal. As they discussed various charms theories at the table, Hermione noticed the gradual decrease of Thorfinn's paranoia. He still did not look as comfortable as he did when they were seated alone in the Hogwarts kitchens, but she supposed it was a work in progress. Following Thorfinn's confession of being unable to cast any semblance of a patronus charm and him admitting that he was awfully jealous of Harry's ability after Hermione had mentioned it vaguely, she decided to lighten Thorfinn up a little and offer a game of pool. While bowling had not been easy for either of them, pool was something else entirely. It was all about angles and it did not take long for them to develop a rhythm.

When Thorfinn decided to head over to the bar, Hermione was leading two to one in terms of game wins. She had just potted the final ball once again and Thorfinn admitted to himself that she was winning because he was awfully distracted. And who wouldn't be? Every turn she had, he couldn't help but stare at her. Hermione had noticed it by the latter half of their second game and he was almost sure that she was now purposefully contorting her body in mischievous ways. Of course, she hadn't commented on any of it. That fact did not make it any less sinful.

A discreet confundus charm on the woman at the bar led to Thorfinn cockily walking back over to Hermione with a hulking pint in one hand and a pink gin and tonic in the other. While he could pass easily as someone over the age of eighteen, he knew for a fact that Hermione would be ID'd within seconds if she approached the bar. It wasn't that she looked young, more so that she just didn't look old enough to get away with not showing a driver's license. Thorfinn did not dare order anything more than a pint for himself since he was planning to apparate the two of them later in the evening, but Hermione's request had not been what he was expecting. He was sure she'd say no when he offered an alcoholic drink, but instead she'd agreed and explained that she had had a few gins with her mum the previous summer and would not be opposed to one. One had been emphasised though, and Thorfinn respected her wishes.

They played pool, flirted just a little, and chatted idly for the remainder of the afternoon. Hermione couldn't fathom why she had been stressed prior to the date; now, she felt nothing but relaxed. Being in the muggle world meant that a lot of her usual stresses were not available, and being in the company of Thorfinn made her feel light and normal. Normal as in not the best friend of the boy-who-lived (and was currently participating in a dangerous tournament). Normal as in not a witch that was looked down upon because of her parents. Normal was nice for a little while.

The pub began to get busy in the early evening, which was their cue to leave. Not having much else planned, Thorfinn encouraged a small walk and it ended up being rather enjoyable. But then, Hermione was biased, because anywhere would be pleasant while kissing Thorfinn. She wasn't sure who had moved first, but soon they were on a park bench and she was seated sideways across his thighs. Thorfinn had never engaged in a public display back at Durmstrang and he never thought he'd be the type to do such a thing regardless of where he was. But with Hermione he couldn't seem to help himself. His left arm was wrapped tightly around her lower back to keep her close and steady, while his right hand roamed wherever was safe. He avoided particularly sensitive areas because he didn't wish to push her, though he was able to sneak a couple of fingers underneath her top and caress the smooth skin above her hip. Every time he brushed up against her skin, Hermione's breath would hitch audibly and she'd kiss him slightly harder; Thorfinn assumed it was her way of confirming he had permission.

"Thor…" Hermione whispered as the skies in front of them started darken. His lips were attached firmly to her neck and it took her a moment to summon enough willpower to do anything. When she did, she used the firm grip on his blonde hair to pull him away from the sensitive skin. It would be a miracle if there were no marks. Thorfinn looked at her then. Really looked. His shocking eyes were lively and unfocused; they were darting between the darkness of her own gaze and the undoubtedly plump lips that he had nipped at relentlessly. "Thorfinn?" she tried again, running her nails soothingly through the short hair on the back of his head. Thorfinn seemed to snap out of the trance he'd been under this time, dropping his forehead to her shoulder and snaking both bulky arms around her firmly.

"What?" he rasped out. Hermione could almost feel the strain in his voice and she also had a very good idea as to why he was struggling so much. Rather, she could feel it. One part of her wanted to jump back with a profound blush, but another part of her was flattered and feeling incredibly confident because of what she had been able to bring him to.

"It's getting dark," she stated, and Thorfinn looked up and appeared to be surprised by the observation.

"It is," he muttered looking back to Hermione. "We should probably head back after I find a freezing river to jump into." Hermione laughed at the comment and one of her hands fell to his chest. "I'm sorry, though. I've got decent self-control but even then there's a limit…"

"It's natural," she said in an incredibly soothing tone, looking straight at him with an expression of complete understanding.

"Give me something horrendous to think about?"

Hermione thought for a moment.

"Professor Dumbledore in lingerie," stated Hermione. The utter alarm on Thorfinn's face told the whole story.

"Seriously? What the hell? Why? That's… well, it's worked, I suppose. I'm feeling the opposite of turned on now. I can't believe how quickly that worked… are you hungry? I'm hungry."

"Hungry?" laughed Hermione. "That's an interesting change of topic but yes, I suppose I am a bit."

"Do you want to get a takeaway?" asked Thorfinn, carefully lifting her up off of his lap before he stood also. Hermione made it her mission to not let her eyes fall to his jeans.

"Takeaway?"

"Well I've not had one in years!" he exclaimed. "Pizza or a Chinese?"

"You want to take an entire Chinese takeaway back to Hogwarts?" Hermione questioned incredulously. He certainly possessed a huge sum of audacity, she'd give him that.

"Salt and pepper chicken is calling my name," grinned an excited Thorfinn. Hermione rolled her eyes playfully at his behaviour. For someone who absolutely loathed the muggle world and had seemed rather uncomfortable earlier in the day, he was certainly enjoying himself now.

"OK, fine, as long as you get me some prawn toast," she said.

"I'll get you some prawn toast if you agree to be my girlfriend." Thorfinn stated firmly. Hermione froze for a brief moment, taken aback by the way in which he had asked. In hindsight, she probably should not have been surprised. This was Thorfinn, after all, and the terms tactless and blunt were both candidates for his middle name.

"Of course I'll be your girlfriend…"

"Now I know for the future that prawn toast is the key to your heart," chuckled Thorfinn, happily enveloping her in his arms while she gave him a stunning smile. Hermione carefully pulled his neck down and kissed him softly. It was a change of pace compared to what they had been doing earlier, but Thorfinn enjoyed it all the same. Asking her to be his girlfriend had sort of just happened in the moment and he didn't regret it one bit. He had gotten what he wanted, after all. And what Thorfinn wanted was Hermione. Nothing else came close to anything to do with Hermione. She was everything and now she was officially his girlfriend, too.

After multiple apparitions, Thorfinn and Hermione waltzed back into Hogwarts with their Chinese takeaway. Professor McGonagall – who had been re-entering her office after overseeing a large detention that had been caused by a brawl earlier that day – looked very much displeased when she saw Hermione munching on a triangular slice of prawn toast while Thorfinn posted large pieces of chicken into his mouth.

"Salt and pepper chicken, professor?" Thorfinn asked amusedly, waving the clear plastic box in the direction of the member of the Hogwarts faculty. Professor McGonagall simply sighed.