Gabriel found himself in his room on Ravenclaw Tower, looking at himself in the mirror fresh from a bath, having just gotten dressed up for the occasion. Wearing a black turtleneck with dark jeans and boots and a jacket made from dragon hide. For the first time in a long while he covered his neck with his scarf in Ravenclaw colors, and then he proceed to cast a series of self-care charms he had set himself to learn the last week: one to straighten his clothes, another to clean up his skin, one more to style his hair, then to clean and freshen his mouth more than the toothbrush had managed to, one to make sure his shoelaces wouldn't come undone and a minor jinx that stops perspiration.
He finished the process by spraying the perfume his mother had gotten for him after he told her of this afternoon's plans. In a bottle shaped like a burnt tree trunk, made using a brazilian magical tree that sets itself aflame during nights and extinguishes by the day with the addition of several alchemical reagents and processes Gabriel had yet to learn- the Feu d'Andurá came out in jets of glowing red and orange like flames, and left him smelling like a bonfire, but... nicer, somehow. Smoky and spicy.
Why she had named it in french, he had no idea.
Gabriel looked at himself in the mirror after he was done, doing a few poses and blowing kisses, running his rand through his hair- before stoping and staring blankly at himself.
Soon enough, the eyes of his reflection had tuned a glowing white, surrounded by solid black.
He stared at it for a few moments, before giving it a small smile with furrowed eyes.
He turned to his table and picked the last piece of his outfit, a pair of leather gloves, made of the same material as his boots and jacket. Once he placed them on, over bandaged hands, the sigils inscribed in their back glowed blue for a moment, before going dormant.
He looked at himself once more, gazing at himself with inhuman eyes, before huffing and walking away from the room. He opened the door-
And froze.
Luna Lovegood stood right outside, small and still, her silvery hair and wide eyes catching the torchlight.
She blinks.
He blinks.
She tilts her head.
He raises an eyebrow.
Her eyes rake over his form from top to bottom before she speaks.
"Where are you going?"
"Hogsmead," he says simply with a smile before starting to walk towards the stairs, Luna following in his steps.
"That sounds nice," She comments airily, "I'd like to go, too."
"You can't, yet." Gabriel says with a chuckle.
"That's true." She says with a solemn nod as they step down into the floor of the second years.
"You know," She continues, "I've been told that I'm rather small."
Gabriel stops, turning towards her and lifting her by the armpits up to face level, a smirk on his face.
"Positively pixiesh." He says, agreeing. She extends her arms with her hands making grabbing motions, and he huffs with a smile as he acquiesces and lifts her further, placing her on his back.
"Small enough to fit inside relatively tight spaces, I'd say." She continued nonchalantly, speaking in his ear while hugging his neck from behind. "For example, an expanded trunk."
Gabriel laughs.
"I'm not going to sneak you outside on my trunk, Luna."
"Why not?" She asks nonplussed.
"First: Because it would be too obvious - everyone would question why I was taking my trunk with me. I'll get a suitcase for the next visit," He says, making her smile. "Second: Because I'm going on a date today."
Her smile disappears.
"You shouldn't go on dates," She says with complete seriousness.
"Oh? Why not?"
"Girls are icky," She says sagely, then solemnly completes, "And they have cooties."
"You're a girl." He points out amusedly.
"That's what the Ministry wants you to believe," she whispers.
Gabriel laughs, and goes down on a knee when they reach the Common Room so she can get down from his back, which she does with reluctance. He turns to her and boops her nose.
"I promise I'll take you next time, and I'll bring you some things from the shops today."
She lets out a fake gasp, her face not changing at all, "You think I can be bought?"
"I think the Halloween Feast today would go down better with some butterbeer rather than pumpkin juice." He corrects.
She hums, "A bottle of cinnamon butterbeer and- we get to sleep on the couch."
He snorts, giving her a crooked grin, "What are you negotiating for, Luna? You're not offering me anything."
She blinked, then frowned, pinching her chin - like he does - and tilting her head. Then opened her eyes wide and looked at him.
"I can do a massage!" She says firmly.
This time Gabriel is the one humming, lips puckered and he scratched his chin and looked at her in the eyes - her resolve shining through them like a businesswoman certain she was closing a great deal.
"You know what? Sure, I never got a massage before."
"Yes." She hissed with a small smile, pumping her fist and doing a little jump.
Gabriel smiled, shaking his head.
-~=~-
Hermione was already waiting by the gates when Gabriel came down the path from the castle. The morning was crisp and bright, a thin mist still clinging to the hills beyond the Black Lake, and her breath came out in faint, silvery clouds.
She had clearly made an effort. Her usual school robes were gone, replaced by a knee-length wool skirt in soft burgundy, a cream turtleneck jumper, and a dark brown coat that fit her neatly at the waist. A knitted scarf - striped in red and gold - peeked out at her collar, and her gloves matched her coat. Her hair, which Gabriel had always loved for its wildness, had been tamed into long, soft curls that framed her face and shimmered in the pale autumn light.
For a long heartbeat, neither of them said a word. They just looked at each other - Hermione with her uncertain, hopeful smile, and Gabriel, towering and broad-shouldered in his dragon-hide jacket, feeling suddenly more self-conscious than any fight or duel had ever made him.
Then he smiled - slow and fond - and reached forward to take a lock of her hair between his fingers.
"Your hair," he said softly, "what did you do to it?"
Hermione ducked her head, pink spreading across her cheeks. "Lavender and Parvati found out I had a date, and they… insisted on helping."
Gabriel chuckled, the sound low and warm. "Well, for what it's worth, I love your hair just as it is. But this-" he tilted his head, considering, "-is rather fetching too. Honestly, I can't imagine any way you wouldn't be beautiful."
That earned him a full blush, and she opened her mouth to reply - but was promptly interrupted by Filch, who appeared beside the gate with all the warmth of a blast-ended skrewt.
"If you're done with your little courting display," he said, voice dripping venom, "I'd like to get this over with. Permits - now - before I lock the gates."
Hermione squeaked and hurried to rummage through her bag, while Gabriel calmly pulled his folded permission slip from an inner pocket of his jacket. Filch sniffed in disdain, holding each up to the light before finally, grudgingly, stepping aside.
Once they'd passed through, Gabriel took Hermione's hand, his gloved fingers easily enveloping hers. She smiled and started forward toward the road - but stopped when she realized he hadn't moved.
"...What?" she asked, already half-smiling, half-suspicious.
Gabriel's brow lifted in mock offense. "Do you really think I'd let my girlfriend walk to Hogsmeade like a common pedestrian?"
From ahead, Susan Bones turned around amidst a group of Hufflepuffs and called out, "Oi!" feigning outrage.
Gabriel straightened his posture and called back, "Be silent, peasant!"
Susan made a very rude gesture, and her group of housemates broke into laughter.
Hermione pressed a hand over her mouth, trying not to giggle. "You're insufferable," she said, eyes sparkling. "And as much as I do love flying with you, that' s not allowed in Hogsmead, and we're not breaking that rule. I'm not getting us banned from the visits before our first date even starts."
Gabriel sighed in exaggerated defeat. "Spoilsport."
Then, with a glint of mischief in his eyes, he drew his wand and pointed it at a nearby rock. "Bikyklofors!"
The rock shimmered, stretched, and reshaped itself into a sleek black bicycle with a padded backseat.
Hermione burst into laughter. "Really?"
"I wanted to do a carriage," he said, scratching the back of his neck. "Still haven't quite managed to transfigure horses yet."
"Well," she said, rising on her tiptoes to tug him down by the collar, "I'd rather hope not. I'm still working on insects." She pressed a quick kiss to his cheek before stepping back with a grin. "But I love it."
Hermione didn't love it quite so much when Gabriel decided to test just how fast his transfigured bicycle could go. They sped down the road past group after group of students, her hair flying wild again in the wind as she shrieked his name.
By the time they rolled into Hogsmeade, she was laughing breathlessly - and only cast a mild Stinging Hex at his arm before marching off toward the first shop.
Gabriel counted that as a win.
-~=~-
Gabriel and Hermione spent the morning exploring every shop in Hogsmeade they could find - or at least peeking inside each one.
Their first stop was Hemmstring and Lockley, a tidy little boutique that specialized in Hogwarts-themed clothing and memorabilia. The walls were draped with scarves and jumpers in house colors, and shelves displayed enchanted snow globes that replayed Quidditch matches in miniature. Nothing there was immediately useful, but Gabriel made a mental note to return someday; a few of those decorations would look perfect in his room back home.
From there, they made their way to Honeydukes, diabetic hell that it was. The air was thick with the scent of caramel and chocolate, and every shelf seemed to sparkle with color. They sampled a bit of everything within reach: Fizzing Whizzbees that made them float a few inches off the floor; the ever classic Chocolate Frogs - from which Gabriel was still searching for the elusive Morgana card; Acid Pops that Hermione insisted he not try to bite straight through; Cauldron Cakes, Exploding Bonbons, Peppermint Toads, and Fudge Flies. And of course Gabriel and Hermione's respective favorites: Blood Lollipops and Sugar Quills.
In the end, Gabriel left the shop carrying a bulging paper bag full of sweets, and the two of them were laughing breathlessly.
Next came Dervish and Banges, a small shop filled with shelves of brass instruments and enchanted devices that whirred and shimmered. One corner housed a few self-playing musical instruments, a gentle melody humming through the air. Gabriel found himself oddly transfixed by the charmed guitar strumming a soft tune in the corner. And when he glanced at Hermione smiling faintly at the sound, he thought that perhaps it wouldn't hurt to learn to play it in his free time.
Zonko's Joke Shop was a different kind of magic entirely. Shelves of sneezing powders, Fanged Frisbees, and Dungbombs stretched wall to wall. The two of them tested a few trinkets, laughing until their sides hurt. Still, Gabriel decided to leave any real purchases for another visit - one with Luna, perhaps. She was far less likely to report him to McGonagall for 'his own good', and it would be better if Hermione had plausible deniability anyway.
They lingered for nearly half an hour in Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop, where Hermione's eyes practically sparkled at the rows of enchanted quills on display - self-writing, self-correcting, invisible-ink, even one that made your handwriting look like calligraphy. She protested furiously when Gabriel insisted on buying her a full set, but he ignored her and paid anyway.
The resulting snog in a shadowed corner between two nearby shops, he decided, was well worth the expense.
He tried to repeat the performance later in Tomes and Scrolls. But this time Hermione, slyly smiling after catching him in the act of attempting to buy a book on Arithmancy she'd been admiring, denied him the chance - pointing out that they had nowhere to carry more purchases anyway. Gabriel made a silent vow to solve that problem next time, and ask for the charm on his suitcase to be made extra-large.
They didn't stop there. The couple wandered through the headquarters of the Wizarding Wireless Network, though they weren't permitted to see the actual broadcasting rooms. Still, it was pleasant to linger in the reception area, where Celestina Warbeck's voice drifted through an enchanted gramophone, rich and golden as sunlight through glass.
They visited The Magic Nee, a greengrocer whose floating baskets arranged themselves into neat piles; Gladrags Wizardwear, where Hermione laughed herself pink at a rack of underclothes that screamed once they became too smelly; and finally, the Post Office, where hundreds of owls perched in neat rows, feathers ruffling as the smell of parchment and straw filled the air.
Their last stop was Hogsmeade Station, quiet now and all too different from the hubbub of the disembarking. Gabriel stood there for a moment, watching the distant hills fade into fog and smoke, and felt a strange, peaceful warmth in his chest. Hermione leaned against him, her gloved hand fitting perfectly in his.
By the end of the morning, they were both flushed, full, and utterly satisfied - bags of sweets and parchment tucked away, smiles refusing to fade. The sun was beginning to dip behind the mountains, casting the village in soft gold and long, cool shadows.
There was only one thing left to decide.
"Madam Puddifoot's or the Three Broomsticks?" Hermione asked thoughtfully, though Gabriel could see the teasing glint hiding beneath her scarf.
He raised an eyebrow, smirking. "You think I'm scared of pink? It's just a color, Mione. I mean, I'm not exactly a tea enthusiast, but if so many couples go there, there's got to be something good about it."
Hermione huffed good-naturedly, shaking her head. "Why are you so impossible to tease?"
"I'm not," he said with a laugh.
"You are! Every time I try, you just find it funny - or worse, you call it adorable. Do you have any idea how frustrating that is?" she complained, though her tone was more amused than exasperated. "And the few things that actually do make you blush end up making me blush, which completely defeats the purpose!"
"Well…" he drawled, eyes glinting.
"What?" she asked, instantly intrigued.
"There's this one thing."
"Mhm?" she prompted.
"Yeah. Sometimes, when you're reading and you're really focused, you start chewing on your quills. But when you're writing, you bite your lip instead, and that's… well-"
"Really? Biting my lip?" she interrupted, half-laughing.
"Yup," he said, popping the 'p'.
Hermione squinted at him, her lips curving mischievously. "Hmmm…"
Gabriel rolled his eyes - then froze when she actually bit her lower lip, slowly, watching him with deliberate focus. His face went crimson almost instantly.
Hermione burst into laughter. "Really, Gabriel? That's all it takes?"
He crossed his arms, huffing but not denying a thing.
Still grinning, she did it again - deliberately this time - eyes gleaming as she watched him struggle between glaring and gawking. Then, with a wicked little smile, she reached out, hooked a finger around the end of his scarf, and tugged him down, slowly, until their faces were only inches apart.
He could feel her breath, warm and faintly sweet from the Sugar Quills. His heart thudded.
And then-
She turned her head away at the last second and began walking, dragging him by the scarf.
"Hey!" he yelped indignantly, stumbling after her.
Hermione only laughed, her voice lilting in the cool evening air. "Come on, you great oaf. We're going to the Three Broomsticks."
Gabriel grumbled under his breath but followed obediently, still pink around the ears.
Truth be told, he was grateful for it - he didn't care much for tea anyway.
And besides… the Three Broomsticks had plenty of cozy, shadowed booths. Perfect for snogging the smug grin off his all-too-clever girlfriend.