Hermione took a calming breath and scanned the London street for the Leaky Cauldron as her father looked for a place to park. There was no reason to be nervous, absolutely none. Today was just a normal day like any other, the only exception being a day trip to Diagon Alley to pick up her school things for the new year, that was all.
"There it is," she said as she stared at the old pub like it were some giant coiled snake ready to strike and a new wave of nerves washed over her.
Her father shifted from grumbling about other people's driving habits, as he'd been since they entered the city proper, to about London congestion and parking. She was just glad he'd dropped his ribbing that finding a boy she liked suddenly had her off on a whirlwind shopping spree though. To those she could only roll her eyes.
If she ever got as bad as that - to where she was obsessing over her hair and whether her nails matched her handbag or if they brought out the hint of honey in her eyes and hair and what her crush-of-the-week might think of them - if she got as bad as Lavender Brown that is, then she might as well leave her brain at home because she certainly wouldn't be Hermione Granger anymore.
As her father repeatedly zigzagged Minnie the Mini Mint Mini into a clear parking spot Hermione checked her reflection in the mirror one last time. She wished she'd thought of something she could do with her hair to keep it under control but had ended up deciding nothing short of magic would settle it one bit. The conclusion did nothing to lessen the worry about it in the slightest though.
Hermione chewed her lip in frustration. Her teeth were another issue she wished she could change. They were too big, and no reassurances she'd grow into them or could get braces to fix them when she was older helped matters any.
She tried to push all those worries away. If appearances were really so important there wouldn't be a witch or wizard who didn't look like supermodels, and that certainly wasn't the case. That was why she decided not to dress up, settling instead for a comfortable pair of jeans and nice top and not something which screamed "date" or, God forbid, a dress. That would build up expectations too high.
Besides, Harry liked her for her and because they were friends, not because of what she looked like. At least she hoped so, though, if he did like her for what she looked like - then she must not look as bad as she thought. Hermione paused for a bit to ponder that peculiar line of reasoning.
It didn't matter anyway, she decided. Today was not a date; at least she didn't think so. Harry'd asked her out, true, but that was to visit Hogsmeade - more than a year away - so it was just an agreement to go on a date then, not now. It didn't change anything about today; she didn't think it did anyway.
The car finally came to a halt and Hermione got out, trying unsuccessfully to smooth her hair as she walked to the door of the pub and taking another calming breath. They were just three friends out to buy their school books and getting to know each other as friends, though that did bring the Ron issue into play. As soon as the silence from Harry had been broken Hermione hadn't written to Ron at all, so she didn't know if any awkwardness from the end of last term would still be around. She hoped not.
Either way she didn't think he'd deliberately try to sabotage things by acting out. After all, what would he hope to gain by it? All it would do would embarrass both his friends while showing what a - well, what a complete arsehole he could be, as her father would say when he got mad - and that was something they'd managed to avoid so far, at least since the troll.
"Er - Hermione?" her father called from beside the car as he looked around in a rather confused manner. Though how he thought to find her by looking towards the record store's window next to them or up in the sky she didn't have the foggiest. Was there some sort of charm on the building to bewilder nonmagical people, just in case the charm that made it invisible failed for some reason?
Hermione shook her head at her own silliness as she realized what she'd just thought. In her nervousness she'd completely forgotten the practical application of what Professor McGonagall had said about the Leaky Cauldron: muggles can't see it and have to be escorted inside by someone who could, so her walking off without him would leave him stranded like she'd vanished into thin air. But then again, how often did she need that bit of trivia?
"Hang on, Dad," she said as she walked back to him. "Close your eyes."
Taking her father by the hand, Hermione pulled him back into the magical world.
As her father took a look around the dingy little pub, Hermione's eyes sought out her friends. They weren't there. With their red hair, usually it was easy to spot the Weasleys from a distance and Harry was sure to be with them. She took a look at her watch, and while they were a little late because of the traffic, she supposed they might've shown up first.
"I take it from the fact you haven't run off that your friends aren't here yet?" her father said from beside her. "You want to wait for them or go ahead and get started?"
She absentmindedly made her way to a seat at a nearby table as she continued to check for anywhere Harry might inadvertently be hiding. One thing she did notice, as her father asked the barman if they had anything nonalcoholic when he came over to take their order, was the Leaky Cauldron looked decidedly smaller and less scary than it had when she first visited.
She supposed the fact this visit was almost two years after the first one, and the fact she'd spent much of the last year living in an enormous castle, could account for the change. It was hard to imagine a small London pub being all that threatening when you'd spent several hours a week in a dungeon with Professor Snape and the Slytherins.
"I don't know about this," her father said as he looked at his drink questioningly. "How do you reckon they get juice from a pumpkin, Pumpkin?"
"Probably the same way Mum gets it from a carrot," she replied.
"You mean this might actually be good for you?" he asked as he took a sip and smacked his lips repeatedly, as if it would make the tasting process any more efficient.
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