Late Bloomers

Friendship

“Go on and eat something, Sinead,” Aoife insisted, nudging her best friend in the ribs. It was going on 6 o’clock and Sinead had hardly touched her dinner. Every few minutes she’d lift her eyes and look over at the Gryffindor table where Neville was seated near Harry Potter and his friends. “Sinead!” Aoife exclaimed, snapping her fingers in front of Sinead’s face. Sinead flinched and looked over at Aoife, smiling somewhat guiltily.

“Sorry. I’m just nervous I guess, which is silly because I have nothing to be nervous about,” Sinead shook her head and ran a hand through her thick, dark hair, “I mean, I don’t even like him like that and I’m sure he doesn’t like me like that either. I guess it’s just been a while since I’ve made any new friends,” Sinead laughed and Aoife rolled her eyes.

“Oh honestly, Sinead. You’ll be fine. Just be yourself. You really don’t give yourself enough credit you know. If you just act like yourself he’s sure to like you,” she insisted with a kind smile. Sinead nodded and began twisting the ends of her hair. She managed a few bites of food before giving up entirely.

“I think I’m going to head up to the library and get some homework done before Neville gets there. Maybe getting my mind off my nervousness for a while will help,” Aoife nodded, giving Sinead a sympathetic look, and wished her luck. Sinead stood, pulling her heavy bookbag onto her left shoulder. Looking across the Great Hall, she met Neville’s gaze and smiled at him before lowering her eyes to the floor and walking out of the hall. As she climbed the marble staircase on her way to the library her heart began to pound. What if this didn’t go well? What if Neville didn’t like her? What if he laughed at her? What if this entire thing was just a big joke orchestrated to humiliate her? Sinead knew it was stupid, knew it was unlikely, but the negative thoughts still plagued her. Her palms began to sweat and by the time she reached the library she felt like she could barely breathe. Forcing herself to take a deep breath, Sinead settled herself at a table easily seen from the entrance and took out her Transfiguration homework. She was meant to be writing an essay on turning desks into horses and why it was difficult, but the words just wouldn’t come to her. She was far too anxious.

Neville had seen Sinead leave the Great Hall, had made eye contact with her as she rose from her table, but he didn’t understand why she had left so early. She had smiled at him as she left and the image of her smiling face, her smile he found to be radiant, was burned in his mind’s eye. “Who was that girl?” it was Seamus who asked and Neville turned to him, looking slightly dazed.

“Hm? Oh, her name’s Sinead. She and I are supposed to be hanging out tonight. I’m supposed to meet her at seven.”

Seamus went wide eyed and then smirked in a way that only the mischief making Irish boy could, “well look at you Longbottom! Finding the lion in you at last!” he laughed and slapped Neville on the back.

“It’s nothing like that, Seamus,” Neville mumbled, lowering his voice so no one would hear them, “she doesn’t even know me yet, really. We’re just going to talk, get to know each other. She said she likes Herbology,” Neville explained humbly. Seamus merely laughed.

“well, best be off with ya then. It’s ten to seven now. Hate to keep a pretty girl waiting,” he teased, knowing it would embarrass Neville. Neville made no reply, instead grabbing his bag and making his way silently out of the hall. He tried not to think of everything that could go wrong, tried to push away the voice that told him she would never like him, that she would make fun of him once she realized how pathetic he was. It’s not that he wanted to believe such things, but when you’ve been told your whole life that you don’t measure up it was hard to be confident. He stopped at the entrance to the library and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath through his nose and letting it out slowly. When he opened his eyes again he felt much more calm, more centered, and, dare he say it, more sure of himself.