This was entirely frightening. Neville had no idea what was going on, nor did he think he would ever fully understand what was going on. Since when were people of the female gender so interested in what he was doing, or why he was doing it, or how he was doing it? Normally people only cared on a polite level, a level that was clearly just a person trying to be nice and talking to him. He never minded that, because he was used to it. He was used to being the nice guy that everyone liked, but no one liked enough to really make a big thing out of it. It had been completely fine.
Until Linda came into his life. She had always been around in his life, of course, but now she was there in so many more ways. He was constantly looking at her, thinking about her, the way her lips moved against his, the way she touched him, and the way he touched her. It wasn't just the occasional thought, it was almost getting obsessive. He was tripping more, losing focus more, and ultimately acting like an even bigger dolt.
None of this stopped him from eagerly awaiting their date, however. He was looking forward to it quite a bit, and had started getting ready early. Not that there had been much preparing to do, but most of that preparation was spent mumbling to himself so he could work up enough courage. When he had all the courage he could muster up, he took a deep breath and walked carefully down the stairs into the common room, making sure he didn't trip.
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