Late Bloomers

Hogsmeade

Author's note: I hate doing these, but I just wanted to apologize for the wait. I know I said I would post this on Saturday but you would not believe what bad writer's block I had. Nothing would come! I hope this chapter is good enough to make up for the delay :)

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 Sinead awoke early on Saturday morning to pale rays of sunlight filtering through the window of the airy Ravenclaw dormitory. Stretching her arms over her head, she yawned widely and pushed her hair out of her face. As she swung her legs over the edge of her bed and sat up rubbing sleep from her eyes, a thought struck her.

It was Saturday. It was a Hogsmeade weekend. She was going on a date.

Her sleepiness was replaced by a clenching in her stomach, a sensation born both of nervousness and an overwhelming sense of excitement. Lingering grogginess now gone, Sinead sprang from her bed and grabbed her toiletries. Stepping as quietly as she could so as not to awake her roommates, Sinead crossed the room to the door and pulled it open, cringing as it creaked loudly.

After showering, Sinead brushed her teeth thoroughly and performing a simple drying spell on her unruly hair. A few of the other girls were awake once Sinead returned to the dorm, but Aoife was not among them. Looking at Aoife’s bed, which was right next to Sinead’s, all that could be seen of Aoife under the deep blue blankets was the very top of her fiery red hair. Sinead rolled her eyes and flipped open the lid of her trunk. Though she was a proud Ravenclaw, Sinead wasn’t exactly organized. Her clothes were strewn around haphazardly- though she did keep her school clothes and street clothes in separate piles- and the bottom of her trunk was littered with bits of spare parchment, ink wells, quills and old, well-loved books (as evidenced by their worn, dog-earred pages and cracking binding from begin opened so many times).

What did one wear on a date? Sinead stood staring down at her clothes with a furrowed brow as she attempted to deduce an answer.  She didn’t want to look too nice because then Neville might think she was trying too hard, but she also couldn’t be too casual because then Neville might think she wasn’t trying quite hard enough and find her to be sloppy.

‘Just approach this logically, Sinead. Process of elimination,’ she coached herself silently. Jeans were immediately out. While she had a couple decent pairs, most were old, frayed, or simply unflattering. It wasn’t quite cold enough for a thick sweater, but Sinead did feel that there was enough of a chill in the autumn air for her to wear something to cover her arms. While she wasn’t going to wear jeans (probably opting for a dress or skirt and blouse), she didn’t want Neville to think her impractical by letting herself freeze all simply to look cute. Only foolhardy girls did such things and if there was one thing Sinead knew she wasn’t it was foolhardy.

Sinead continued in this manner for a good twenty minutes and by the time she finished there were two rather large piles of clothes on her bed – one of acceptable first-date attire and one of rejected items. However, Sinead was no closer to choosing an outfit and she was beginning to panic. She was entirely outside of her comfort zone and had put a great deal of pressure on herself to get everything just right. For the first time there was a boy, a kind, sweet, cute boy, who liked her and Sinead was determined not to mess it up. Biting her lower lip, Sinead looked hopelessly at her pile of clothes. She wanted everything to be perfect. She wanted to look perfect, but how was she to do that when she didn’t even know what to wear? As she became more disconcerted, her gaze drifted to Aoife.

Of course! Aoife would know exactly what to do! She had an eye for what looked good and she had been on plenty of dates before. Why hadn’t Sinead thought of that in  the first place? She could kick herself for being so stupid.