WHO: Louis Bonaccord and Penelope Fawcett
WHAT: Lunch!
WHERE: Bakery in a podunk little village in Scotland
WHEN: Sometime before today!
The door to bakery called Harry Gow jingled with soft bells. Louis let out a breath, glad to be out of the near freezing cold, cheeks and nose feeling as if they were ready to fall off in chunks of ice. He was sure he had not experienced a Scottish winter since his time at Hogwarts, and he did not wonder why. But, the trip had been interesting (it was always that way when apparating into a muggle town), and he was glad to have made it.
He wouldn’t like to call it
nerves, the strange feeling in his stomach. Louis had believed he’d conquered any sort of stage fright he may have long ago, especially with girls, but this was different in ways he couldn’t precisely explain. He and Penelope had literally skipped the country on New Year’s Eve, so why had it taken him nearly an hour to invite her to lunch because he’d chosen and re-chosen his words? This should have been easy!
But the thrill of the holiday was long gone, and now was the real test to see if---well, no! It could just be lunch, it did not have to...Louis had plenty to talk about, he was sure he could make lunch enjoyable, that was not a question, but what---He frowned. He was mentally rambling, and he did
not do that. Taking a breath, he turned to check his reflection in the glass of the door to make sure that he truly did not have any icicles clinging to his eyelashes, and when that was cleared, he turned back and spotted Penny.
He grinned, sending her a quick wave.
Though she had been sitting in this particular seat, sipping a hot cup of coffee, for about fifteen minutes, Penelope was still having a difficult time wrapping her head around what was about to happen.
Louis Bonaccord would shortly be walking through the doors of the eatery in the nearest inhabited village to the hospital where she worked to have lunch. With her.
Just her.
She was not entirely sure how to proceed. Aside from New Year's Eve, Penelope had hardly ever spent time in Louis's company alone—she had been unable to participate in the majority of her Head Girl duties, and had gone out of her way to avoid him in their years as Prefect. Even when pressed by Adian and others as to why she was put off by Louis, she shrugged the question off with varying levels of irritability.
And yet, here she was, waiting for him to arrive.
She did not, as many would have, ponder on the subject as much as one might think.
The Harry Gow was a quaint addition to the sleepy town of Dornoch. The population was so small, even the locals had begun to recognise Penelope, who explained her infrequent presence away by way of relatives in a neighbouring town. In the summer, or on colder days when they were particularly incorrigible, there was a herd of sheep that had the run of the town who could often be spotted from the bakery's windows. Having grown up in the country, it suited her just fine, but Penelope could not help but wonder, as her company walked in and shook the snow off, just what the worldly Louis would make of such a place.
"Coffee," she said in place of a greeting when he had reached the table, pointing to a mug with steam rising from it. "You must be freezing."
“Oh, thank you, thank you,” Louis said, his gloves having been put away. He wrapped his hands around the mug for the warmth and let out a breath. The simple gesture calmed a few of his nerves and Louis smiled, feeling grateful for a few reasons. This was a good start, he believed. Firstly, she’d actually shown up, which had been taking up the majority of his worries. The coffee was thoughtful, though he silently scolded himself for not getting here first and putting in the same order.
Louis looked around the bakery, taking in the wonderful smells of the different goodies and confections. He was often scolded for his sweet tooth by his father, who Louis believed simply didn’t like the adoration his son got from his mother when he brought home the most delectable treats. He often joked that the main reason why he had taken his Grand Tour was to experience all the food the world had to offer.
“Can we still get breakfast?” he asked, unfurling his scarf and hanging it over the back of his chair. Louis’ eyebrows went high, hoping that this would be a good start to the conversation. “There was a sign outside that said their crêpes were the best in town.”
"I think they're the
only ones, so they must be the worst as well." Penelope spared a smile, and said, "And yes, they did say they would keep the—some… machine—running for us." Her time spent in the bakery did not make the Muggle methods anymore apparent to her, though the food was no delicious than if it had come from the tip of a wand. Turning, she glanced at the woman behind the counter who began to scurry over to take their order before shifting back in place.
What to do now?
Penelope did not, in particular, wish to bring up the night of New Year's Eve, nor the morning after. Her recent break up was also on the list of forbidden topics, particularly if Louis had no knowledge of it. Yet all of these events contributed directly to her sitting across the table from one of the people she deemed least likely to ever share a meal with.
It didn't leave much in the way of meaningful conversation for them.
"I hope it wasn't difficult to find," she said, instead of the hundreds of other questions she was resolving not to ask, such as why in particular did he think they were having lunch, was his ex-girlfriend aware of what had transpired, and while she was quite certain her ex-boyfriend and his best friend was aware of what had transpired New Year's Eve, was he aware of what was happening
now?
Penelope opened her mouth to say something, or ask something—she wasn't entirely certain what words were about to come out of her mouth—when she was saved by the waitress finally having approached their table to take their order. She dropped her gaze to the small glossy menu placard, which she studied intently.
Louis was not a fan of awkward situations. He filled up empty space with idle musings or elaborate tales that could capture the attention of the room. His sister often joked that he was a perfect hybrid of their parents: he had the ambitious streak of his entrepreneur mother and the thirst for knowledge his father possessed. The Sorting Hat had gone back and forth between Slytherin and Ravenclaw, Louis often recalled, but had been pushed into the dungeons when he questioned which House would ensure him the best job upon graduation. So his mind was full of ideas and of ways to make things
work, and right now, with the feeling of nervousness heavy upon the table, he resolved to figure this lunch out.
With their orders placed, Louis took his first sip of coffee and enjoyed its warmth. Maybe he’d allow himself to think that it rid his nerves and worries, that he’d let himself trick his mind. He put down the mug and leaned forward.
“In all my travels,” he said, putting his hand out, palm facing the sky before he pointed a finger at her, “my night with you ranks within the top five.” Louis grinned, a hint of mischief in his eyes. His single finger lifted to point upwards, “Number one is still yet-to-be determined.”
It was true, and it had been the unexpectedness of it all. His Grand Tour had taken him many places, but all with a plan, with some sort of goal. Whether it was to acquire a contact within a business or to experience everything remarkable a place could offer, he worked with a mission. Even his departure to Japan with Dianna had been thought-out, no matter how quickly their plan had been devised.
To simply fly away from the New Year’s Eve party with nothing but a whim and a pretty girl on his arm was outstanding to him.
He dropped his hand, ready to simply enjoy their lunch if that was all it turned out to be, but he had to let her know. “You have always intrigued me, Penelope Fawcett, and I’d like to get to know the girl who took me on that adventure, if that’s all right.”
As far as declarations went, it was an overwhelming one. Grand statements were not something often uttered or received by her, and she was sure her cheeks were turning pink, because her heart beat significantly faster, and one often did not happen without the other.
Had this been underlying all along?, she wondered, as she watched Louis speak earnestly. Had Penelope, somehow or the other, turned a blind eye to this strange, previously-unspoken, unrecognised…
thing between, them all these years?
Of course, she quickly recalled, the situation all these years had not exactly permitted recognising any such thing, or bearing even a resemblance to such a thing.
But though Penelope had trouble muddling through her feelings—still heartbroken over ending a significant chapter in her life but painfully aware of something new emerging in the midst of the pain… reconciling the attitude she'd had to Louis all her life to the sudden shift in their relationship now—she agreed with him. That night… enchantments or not, she'd still done something unbelievable, and she'd
enjoyed it.
It had been a long, long time since she even dreamed of seeing the world without a drop of fear in her heart, and after the rough months she had weathered through, began to think she might even deserve it.
These days, she often felt clumsy with words when she did use them (and she much preferred not to). They didn't seem to mean what she wished they did, and they fell over and twisted around themselves. So, slowly, Penelope nodded, a shy and unsure half smile growing on her lips. "I'd like to get to know her, too."
