new faces
"honky-tonkin'
dead man walkin"
The next couple days blended together in a mess of town-hall meetings, horseback riding and the rowdy youth of America. As the date of the fair inched closer, the tension and excitement around town increased alongside it. Affecting the adults just as much as the children; everyone itching for some entertainment.
Ronald seemed particularly affected by the general buzz. Hermione found the man to be acting rather out of character during those few days. Finding any reason to help Harry with the event planning or his mother with the necessary baking preparations or Bill and Charlie with their high-energy children. Really any reason to not be sitting still. The reason for his foreign behaviour was revealed mid-week while Hermione was over visiting Crookshanks, again.
Hermione had just gotten back from another ride through Hogsmeade Ridge with Mister Teddy. The two had stood atop the plateau and gazed upon the town, until Hermione’s stomach growled and Theodore insisted they return for some refreshments with Mister Weasley. The two had become fast friends after he revealed the proper use of one of Arthur's gadgets. Not bothering to wait for her to enter, he had already slipped inside, lured by Missus Weasley’s baking.
Ron stood, rather uncomfortably, shifting from one foot to the other. He ran his hand over his beard a few times, not exactly sure how to begin the conversation he wanted. Hermione simply looked at him fondly, he was one of her first friends upon arriving in town. She knows he’ll say what he needs to when he stirs up the courage. This was just Ron .
“Listen, Mione.” He began and she sucked air through her teeth at the nickname but let him continue. He takes another second to think through what he wants to say. “Well, the fair is coming to town. Which you know. Obviously. And, I’ve wanted to talk to you, but you’ve been off with the new guy. And, ah shoot, I’ll just come right out and say it. I’d like to go with you to the fair.”
“Of course, Ronald. We’re all going. I told Ginny I’d help her get ready, so we can all go together,” Hermione smiled up at him, his blue eyes dimming slightly. He thought she had understood his meaning.
“No, Hermione. I’d like us to go together.” He took her hand in his, interlocking them, noticing the way his thick fingers dwarf her hand. “ You know, like a date.”
“Oh.” Hermione was shocked. She hadn’t anticipated this. She should have anticipated this. How did she not anticipate this? “Like a date,” she repeated, stalling slightly. Did she want a date with him? Well, she had admitted he was rather handsome and they got along quite well. One date and we’ll see. “Sure, Ronald, I think that could be a lot of fun.”
“That’s great, Mione.” He pulled her into a lasting hug, the smell of firewood clinging to his wool coat. “S’glad you said yes, I’ve been out of sorts all week from nerves.”
“Hope it doesn’t ruffle ya too much to know, I noticed.” Hermione smiled gently at her close friend, “Although I admit, I thought you were just excited for the fair.”
“Well now, you’re not totally wrong in a sense. I was excited for the fair, well, taking you more specifically.” Ron rambled, a fierce blush crawling up his pale skin. He looked away from Hermione, his eyes immediately finding the ground.
His nervousness then was out of character. Hermione always assumed that if Ronald was ever going to act on his alleged feelings, he would have done so already. It had been two years since she arrived, after all. Even Missus Weasley had been immediately suspicious of her son's feelings for the schoolteacher, catching on almost before Ronald himself. Ron had always seemed so unphased when it came to relationships. Then again, she could not remember one lasting connection Ron had attempted forming since her arrival.
“I think we’ll have a good time, Ronald.” Hermione attempted to reassure him. “But, we should probably head inside. I’m sure everyone is waiting.”
They were.
The entire Weasley family was pressed against the panes in various windows throughout the house, watching the awkward exchange on the porch. As obvious as ever, once the young pair entered the silent house, sudden conversation echoed from the home’s many floors. It was as if they had all begun speaking in the middle of their sentence.
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After a comfortable dinner, minus the twins suggestively wagging their eyebrows every time she looked in their direction, Hermione bid her friends a good night and began what had become a nightly routine. Herself and Mister Teddy would walk to Wrackspurts, share a tankard of ale with Miss Luna and then she would finish the short journey home.
“So I couldn’t help but pick up on a bit of tension at dinner.” Theodore prodded, earning himself an eye roll from his companion.
“Notice that, did you?” Hermione joked. “Everyone’s sort of been expecting us to get together for a while now. So they’re a mite excited. It’s silly, I know.”
Theodore just cocked his head slightly to the side, thinking.
“And did you agree to the date because you wanted to or because everyone’s sort of been expecting it.” Theo final inquired, throwing her words back at her.
She was really going to let him have it. How dare he? Who does he think he is, showing up and saying such a thing?! How’d he come up with such a thing? How did he come up with such a thing? Hermione may have had such thoughts herself a time or two over the past year, but how did Theodore, a stranger for all intents and purposes, pick up on it?
“Well, I-” Hermione began, but changed her mind. “Ron is very-” She began again, and let out a huff of frustration. “I’m not sure about Ronald. About my feelings or his feelings or any of it, really. But I figured I can go on one date, and find out. And then I’ll know, one way or the other.” She concluded, perhaps revealing too much of her own mind in the process but somehow she trusted him.
“So less of a date and more of an experiment, of sorts.” Theodore teased, never having clicked with Ronald. “Poor fella.”
“Isn’t any date an experiment?” Hermione raised her eyebrows at him, catching him with her logic. “In compatibility? In chemistry?”
“Fair enough, Miss Mione. Fair enough.” Theodore nodded at his new friend, appreciating her perspective and her ability to beat him with her wit.
The two friends continued down the dark road in comfortable silence. The waning moon lighting their path.
As Wrackspurts came into view, a buzz of voices rose alongside it, getting louder with every step they took. Music was flowing from the open windows of the saloon. Lace curtains billowing from within along with the faint smell of sweat and tobacco smoke.
“Wrackspurts seems like the place to be tonight.” Theodore observed, taking note of the surplus of bodies strewn around the property.
Cowboys had all but overtaken the front porch. Long denim clad legs sprawled across the pale wood from many angles. Each man, while all in varying states of intoxication, had a fat cigarette alit between their dirt stained fingers.
“Looks like Madame Parkinson is throwing another one of her parties. What with all the newcomers in the last few hours.” Hermione deduced. With the fair only two days away, the out of town circus-goers had begun arriving. The majority of whom had taken to occupying the limited rooms at the saloon.
The saloon-girls passed back and forth, their shadows dancing through the dimly lit windows.
“Let’s see if we can’t find a table, huh, Miss Mione?” Theodore suggested, taking her hand and leading her up the porch steps and into the rowdy sin-house.
It had taken some negotiating, and Theodore wound up buying a shot of whiskey in exchange for a scar-covered gentleman agreeing to stand from his booth in the corner, but soon they were falling against the cushioned bench and clinking their glasses together in cheers.
Theodore did a once over of the crowded room before him, urgently scanning for any familiar faces. If his friends had timed their journey correctly, they should have arrived by horse back that afternoon. Theodore was hoping to catch up with them tonight, but he had yet to see them amongst the many patrons.
It wasn’t long before Miss Lovegood stepped out from behind the bar to greet the pair with light, rose-scented hugs before flitting off to pour another order. Insisting that she would return shortly with the evening’s host. Theodore assumed that he was to finally meet the illusive Madame Parkinson.
Hermione hoped Luna would take her time in returning as she was in no rush to come face to face with the other saloon owner. The two women never seemed to agree on anything, and always seemed to wind up glaring at each other by conversation's end. But even Hermione had to admit, she had never met a woman so strategic and intentional. Truly admirable qualities, in Hermione’s book.
“I’m going to get us a refill.” Hermione offered. Once she drained the last of her stout, she slammed her tankard down causing Theodore to jump slightly. “Merlin’s Mustangs!” She apologized for the loud noise and stood, stumbling only once as she made her way to the bar across the room. Her boots thudded against the shaking hardwood. She was so focused on feeling the drums through the old oak beneath her that she failed to notice a blond cowboy stand from his stool, directly in her path.
The sudden impact and the buzz of four drinks had Hermione careening for the floor when suddenly a tattooed arm grabbed her waist, righting her instantly. Still a bit disoriented, Hermione extended a hand in search of something solid to grab hold of and in doing so wound up with her hand flat against the stranger's chest. The man in front of her was so tall Hermione had to tilt her head back to make eye contact with him. The moment she did this, she was met with the most striking pair of silver eyes she had ever seen. With a slight scowl on his face, he assessed for damages and upon finding none, he nodded once. Tipping his black pinch-front hat, the shadows on his face sharpen his angular features to a point.
“Are you alright, miss?” He asks, his deep voice laced with concern and something bordering on annoyance.
“Perfectly fine. Thank you for that, by the way. ” She managed to speak, her mind reeling slightly. The stranger was frustratingly good looking. From what she could see anyways, his hat obstructed the majority of his face. “Although, technically you got in my way.”
“Oh, I got in your way? You walked clean into me, and if it wasn’t for my quick thinking you’d be laid out flat on your ass on the floor right now.” He retaliated, chuckling slightly at what Hermione could only assume was the mental image of her making a fool of herself. “Busy bar, rowdy cowboys, beautiful girl like you, maybe you should keep your eyes up.”
“Don’t be so patronizing. I bumped into you, I wasn’t stumbling drunk into some back alley.” Hermione squared her shoulders, the buzz from her beer fizzled out slightly, leaving her clear-minded. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.” She made a move to step past him but he stuck his arm out in front of her, stopping her. She noticed the tail of a snake tattoo peaking from beneath his sleeve.
“I’m sorry, I’m just glad you're alright. I don’t think I could stand it if on my first day in town, I knocked over some poor dame in my haste to water my horse.” He admitted, catching Hermione’s dark eyes with his.
“Well, if there was ever a reason to knock a woman over, I’d say it’s in the care of one’s animals.” Hermione joked, and the stranger’s eyes danced with laughter despite the expression on his face not changing.
“Speaking of, I should get to that.” The newcomer tipped his hat at Hermione. “Sal won’t be happy with me if I make him wait.”
It wasn’t long after returning with that drink, that Hermione decided it would be her last. She still had to teach the kids early the following morning, so she bid Mister Teddy goodnight and paid her tab. Following Miss Lovegood outside, so the saloon owner could smoke freely, Hermione hugged her dear friend and began home.
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Theodore almost immediately lost Hermione in the crowd, her head of nearly-managed curls disappearing between two cowboys as she weaved in-between patrons and towards the exit.
His focus returned to the now empty tankard in his hand, tilting the glass back and forth, the last dregs of foam sliding along the bottom. Now alone with his thoughts for the first time since he left his rented room that morning, Theodore began theorizing what could have delayed his friend's arrival.
Fortunately for the young cowboy, he didn’t have to worry long. Two newcomers, with Colts hanging from their belts, sauntered up to the corner table the pair had been occupying.
One of the gentlemen was a lanky dark-skinned man in a sleek coat. Intricate loops were stitched into the expensive fabric and it hung, perfectly tailored from his shoulders, barely covering the ivory handled dragoons that sat in their holsters. He wore a tan ridgetop hat, with a single eagle feather slid into its band. The spurs on his boots clinked slightly as he walked.
“Blaise.” Theodore greets the man, motioning for him to take a seat across from him. As gracefully as he walked over, Blaise slid onto the patterned cushion with equal suave. Now seated, both gentlemen glanced at the third member of their party, still standing.
His ink-covered arms were crossed over his chest and the brim of his black hat was pulled low over his face.
“Malfoy.” Theodore nodded at the man in welcome, his heart rate suddenly spiking as his best friend finally took his rightful seat next to him.
“We’ve got two days, three brains and $20,000 to steal. What’ve you learned, Theo?” Blaise inquired, immediately spurring the men into action.
Drinks were bought, and the booth did not empty until the sun rose the next morning. Somehow, through the haze of whiskey, nostalgia, and tobacco, a plan was formed.