The Night is Young | Hermione Granger

16. Dates, Dates, Dates

Once again, Max paces about his room, though this time, he's dressed, washed up, and more anxious than depressed.

We figured his dorm was the best place to talk without Daph or Isola finding us.

I convinced him to ask Daphne on a date (wasn't that hard, seems like he had a reason to anyway) and he was about to leave to go do it when I said he needed to plan the date first. He didn't understand why, because there's always a chance she'll say no, so I reminded him of her standards, and if he wanted to meet them, he has to start thinking now.

"I've known her for almost five years, it should not be this hard to think of what she'd like." His eyes shut in concentration.

"Well, you've been on a million dates." I say. "What have you done on those."

"Food, drinks, simple." He says. I show my disgust and he rolls his eyes. "Yea, yea, I know, expectations. Merlin, on other dates I just had to be charming, but Daph actually knows me!"

I don't think I've ever seen Max worried before. Surely, he has been, but I usually hear the aftermath of his ideas, when he's thought them through to a reasonable conclusion. I've never witnessed his train of thought in person before.

He turns to face me.

"What romantic things does she like?" He asks.

"Be specific." I blink.

"Setting."

I think for a second, "she likes the stars-"

"I'm not taking her to where you've snogged Hermione," he cuts me off, "next."

I send him a glare for not letting me finish.

"She likes cliches." I offer.

"Well I'm not taking her out into a thunderstorm to kiss her." He sits down on his bed with a huff and my body weight shifts. "I don't fancy getting sick. Let's try activity first."

"Well, food is off the table." I move to sit beside him and he sends me a confused look.

"Why?"

"She's still not comfortable eating." I remind. "And if she starts picking at her meal, you'll go all mum-mode and ruin the date."

"Mum-mode?" Max adopts a look of offence. "I do not act like a mum."

"Yes, you do." I argue, then change tangents before he can counter, "do you remember when we went swimming in the Black lake last year."

He nods his head.

"Have you ever been swimming at night."

"No, why would I?" He gives me a look like he doesn't know where I'm going with this.

I clear my throat slightly, and turn my body to face him.

"I'm going to tell you something that you're not allowed to repeat." I warn, staring him down. Max just nods. "In Daphne's favourite book, there's a scene where the love interests go swimming at night. She's told Isola and I how she thinks it's one of the most romantic things she's ever read, and in her 17 years of living, she's never experienced anything like it."

"Why hasn't she told me that?" He asks and I pinch the bridge of my nose.

"Who cares why she hasn't, you're going to bring to life her favourite scene!" I try to get it through his head.

"Alright, alright." He surrenders. "Just, tell me what's so romantic about it."

"She likes the intimacy of night time." I explain. "It's dark, you're alone, but it's still light hearted fun in her mind because you're swimming. And, if you're out after curfew, it's the added bonus of breaking the rules."