More than a date

The pub was mildly crowded. It was not without noise, but the buzz from the conversations was pleasant enough to be ignored. Hermione Granger sat there, sipping on her ale, and stared at nothing. It was difficult to think anything after what she had decided to do today. Another relationship had gone to rubbish. She had no time for a luxurious, time-consuming relationship at the moment she needed to get back to London, to her actual life. And she was busy enough pursuing her career. It was a cruel cycle of a wishful thinking, a realization of a mistake, a breakup, a determination to never repeat it again, and then this was just another delusion that perhaps she had finally found true love.

The first time she believed it, she was with Ron. What she was mistaken about was that the affection she had for Ron she keeps telling herself the two needed to return to the friend-family relationship they had before.

It all seemed so futile. The meaning of relationship, or love, that is. And yet, she knew already that she would illogically "fall in love" again, given the opportunity to do so. So she sulkily sipped her mug of ale in this strange pub, to which she walked in spontaneously on her way home, and mourned for the inevitable demise of her next relationship.

Percy was feeling restless tonight, he been roaming around the city until his legs were too tired to walk anymore. He paused in front of a small bar that recently opened called 'Dream Teller's Pub'. He only had few dollars jingling in his pocket, but he decided 'I could probably get a drink of something.'

He walked into the pub and, relieved to find it not so packed, approached the bartender. It was his first time to order at the bar, but he pulled out the coins in his pocket and asked, trying his best not to fidget.

"A bottle of Corona please?"

Said the man who just walked into the bar area. Hermione looked up, surprisingly it was the source of her woes tonight. This man, who seemed to be an ordinary muggle, had really dark hair, raven black, or maybe it was just black, it was too dark inside the pub to tell, tanned skin she noticed before but hadn't quite paid attention before, but in the pub light seemed so much more obvious. No British, especially no Londoner, could acquire such a healthy tan under the all-time clouded sky. His face was charming, with a sharp chin, his most appealing feature was his green eyes that still seemed to reach out to me even in the dim lighting. He was wearing a soft looking, ivory turtleneck sweater and a dark pair of jeans with vertical stripes. His shoes were black converse with very worn out shoelaces. In his hand, he held a long navy coat, and his other hand lied on the bar table, the fingers tapping in an unfamiliar rhythm.

Percy felt the woman next to her looking at him. Realizing it was the girl that had been keeping him up tonight he smiled at her. She was startled by his sudden smile. Her curly brown hair, and warm brown colored eyes glistened under the amber lights in the pub. She reminded Percy of his mother, which was oddly disturbing. She was wearing, a traditional match of a sweater, a shirt, blue jeans.

Her surprise faded away slowly, and her cheeks seemed to gradually turn dark with red tinges. She was embarrassed, Percy realized.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to stare so much."

Hermione apologized immediately. She must have drunk more ale than she thought to have so rudely stare at him for so long. She only meant to observe in a subtle manner, but apparently it was not so subtle at all. Percy gave an amused chuckle as he sat down next to her. The bartender handed him his drink, a pint of Corona, and after thanking the bartender and handing him the money, he turned back to her and smiled.

"It's fine. Do you come you come her often?" Percy asked making conversation.

"Well no, I have a lot on my mind tonight." She said embaressedly. "Sorry for staring, I think I might be a little drunk".

Hermione shook her head and pointedly pushed her mug away a bit. Percy laughed, not fully happily but somewhat tiredly, like a tortured man finding a temporary relief.

He was very compelling.

"Why don't we move over there? If it's alright with you, we can talk while we drink?"

Her brain, having survived the alcohol's pull, shouted that she should not. She should not make a pleasant company with this charming man. She should not put herself in such a tempting situation when she just ran away from this relationship, only hours ago. But then another side of her mind whispered, why not? Why should she not be consoled by the company of this man? Why should she not enjoy her life as it is? Why should she care if the situations was tempting or not, when she would probably go back to London soon? This could be what everyone calls a "one-night-stand" and not a start of a relationship. And who knows? This man may only genuinely want someone to just talk to while having a drink. How else would she find out what tonight will become except she accept this invitation?

After asking that last rhetorical question, Hermione nodded.

"Sure, why not?"

Percy smiled at her again. He smiled awfully lot, not that it bothered her. He guided her to the table he previously pointed at. Hermione felt his hand hovering above the small of her back, and she somehow appreciated the lack of touch.

After the two sat down, the witch and the demigod talked for hours, and this was the first time she felt actually relaxed in the past months of being away from everyone and everything she has known. They talked about things, argued about other things playfully, and ranted about things together. They interacted in such way for hours until there was no other customer inside the pub, until the pub closed at 2 am, until the bartender approached them silently and politely alerted them of the closing. They walked out of the pub together, still talking about things as they walked down the street in step with each other.