𝐹𝑅𝐸𝑆𝐻 𝐸𝑌𝐸𝑆 | 𝑃𝐴𝑁𝑆𝑀𝐼𝑂𝑁𝐸

i'm

she'd actually call the girl.
she shouldn't be calling her the girl.
she would call her pansy.
that sounded right now.

she knew it would be awkward. she wasn't always like this, but when it came to this situation, she was all weird and stuttery. you see, hermione may have not had enough courage to ask pansy out in the first place, but when it came to proper dating, her mouth shot off on its own. she had so many things she wanted to tell the other person, and she wouldn't be able to help herself. maybe that's what drew ron away from her eventually.

"mental note : no blabbing your mouth off. no good," she's told herself over and over while her fingers ghosted over the cordless phone. she shouldn't be nervous, she'd wanted this, she was going to get it. pansy would be talking to her, privately, without coffee being the bridge. still, she still trembled as she sat at the desk in her shoebox apartment. maybe she should shut the air conditioner off — it was probably making her cold and jittery.

her left hand fumbled with the prim business card, stroking it fondly.
her right fingers tapped in the digits. one, two, three rings, and she could hear the phone being picked up on the other end.

but it wasn't pansy's voice. it was a male voice, soft and firm like pansy's, but not her voice. "hello, this is slytherin & company, draco speaking." hermione frowned. "i'm looking for pansy? is she available?"
"oh my god, are you the girl she keeps talking about? hey pansy!" hermione heard the voice — draco — shout something, and a door being opened. she could hear a second voice, a familiar one this time, and she could make out the words "embarrassment" and "not all the time" being mentioned. at last pansy held the receiver to her ear and spoke into the phone.
"hi, you must be hermione," pansy was on the phone. hermione could hear someone giggling as pansy seemed to move away from the receiver for a bit.
"yeah, you're pansy," hermione kicked the table leg impulsively and regretted her action immediately. "hi hermione, i'm sorry about my colleague draco, but this is how he usually is. what do you know?" "oh nothing much. just that you talk a lot about me?" if words were colours, hermione knew pansy was blushing. "he — uh — says that a lot, to l-like everyone about me so—"
"hey pansy, it's fine. i think it's cute," hermione's insides melted, and she couldn't tell why. maybe it was because she found this office girl who kept her poker face throughout tea dorky. who knew she could blush?
she was snapped out of her thoughts by even more background laughter and pansy muttering a rather rude word.
"hey hermione, i'm sorry this is so a-abrupt and all but i'm not exactly in the best position to talk with my colleagues around. i think you can tell they're idiotic as fuck." hermione smiled gently. "it's okay, but just one thing." now was her moment, she was going to grab it. she'd waited long enough. "how about we go somewhere for lunch one of these days? possibly saturday?"
"SHUT UP BLAISE!" hermione jumped. yet another background shriek. "sorry hermione, what was that?" "w-would you like to go out? with me?" confident hermione wasn't going to be on the losing end this time.

"sure thing. saturday at 2? i'll pick you up, you can text me your address. same number." "deal."
"thanks for understanding hermione," hermione could hear pansy smile. she couldn't see it, she just knew. "okay, see you then," she replied, trying not to exploit her excitement. "bye," then the line went dead.

hermione leant back heavily on her swivel chair. her frizzy hair was falling out of its tight loose bun to frame her face and tickle her nose. she squealed a squeal that was mostly meant for when she read a book with a romantic moment, or watched a movie with a kissing scene, and felt her face burn bright.

now she was truly glad words weren't colours. and that no one lived in this shoebox apartment except for herself.