Chapter Text
Hélène arrived seven minutes early for the meeting. She thought it important to acknowledge when she made an effort.
Neville Longbottom, however, was already in the room. He had three folders open on the table, a glass of water and a pencil behind his ear. He stood when she came in and went to fetch a chair that did not need fetching, since there were five others.
"This one's better," he explained. "The other one sinks."
Hélène put down her bag.
"During the meeting?"
"Gradually. You only notice when you're already looking up at everyone."
She sat in the chair he indicated. Neville took off his jacket and hung it over the back of his own chair. Then he began rolling up his shirtsleeves. Hélène opened her notebook. Found the page, and read the first question. Had to read it again.
"I got your comments," he said.
"I wanted to start with..."
Neville waited. She looked at the paper.
"The population we're proposing to study."
"Good. I think it's still too broad as well."
Hélène looked up. His expression was quite different from the one he had worn while explaining the chairs. She pulled the notebook closer.
"I don't want to put people with different conditions together and then pretend the results answer the same question."
"I agree."
"In your message, it sounded as though you didn't."
Neville searched for one of the sheets.
"Here?"
She pointed. He read it.
"That's badly written."
Hélène had prepared a response to that part. She looked at him.
"It is."
"I meant we need to choose the condition before we finalise the criteria. I've written it as though I'm proposing we leave everything open."
She examined the sentence again.
"That's how I understood it."
Neville crossed out a line and made a note in the margin.
"Better fix it."
Hélène watched the pencil for a few seconds. Then she turned the page.
✦ ✦ ✦
Forty minutes later, they had reduced an idea that appeared to encompass everything to a question that encompassed rather less. Hélène wasn't entirely satisfied. Neville seemed to be.
"This way we know what we're trying to find out," he said.
"I knew what I was trying to find out before."
"You had four things."
"Related things."
"Yes."
"You agree with me and still keep contradicting me."
Neville smiled.
"I'm trying to do it politely."
She went back to the notes. There was a good side to narrowing it down. She could now see the work she would need to do before proposing any study involving athletes. There was also an irritating side: Longbottom was right about two of the four things.
"We can keep these as questions for future research," she said, marking the paper.
"We can."
"I'm not abandoning them."
"I noticed."
He slid another sheet across the table. Hélène took it.
Neville waited for her to read it, then added:
"At least the project's starting to put down roots."
She looked up.
He was smiling. Hélène laughed before she could help it. Neville looked pleased.
"Because of the botanical side," he explained.
"I got it."
"Of course."
He picked up his pen, looked at her and smiled again. Hélène returned to the text.
Five minutes later, finding a task they hadn't yet assigned to anyone, Neville said:
"This one still needs someone to help it grow."
She put down her pen.
"Isn't that the same joke?"
"It's a variation."
"A very small one."
"It's still developing."
Hélène laughed again. That was a mistake.
✦ ✦ ✦
By the time they finished, lunchtime had been over for nearly an hour. Hélène closed her notebook and began gathering her papers. Neville was searching the table for something. He lifted one folder. Then another. She watched him for a few seconds.
"The pencil's behind your ear."
Neville reached for the wrong side. Hélène indicated the other. He found it.
"Thank you."
"Couldn't you feel it?"
"I suppose I got used to it."
He put the pencil away. Hélène placed her notebook in her bag. Neville opened a folder again.
"We just need to decide when to pick this up."
She checked her phone and found two possibilities the following week. He consulted his diary. They agreed on a day.
"Good," Neville said. "That gives the idea time to..."
Hélène raised a finger. He stopped.
"Don't finish that."
"You don't know what I was going to say."
"Take root?"
Neville was silent. She closed her bag.
"Was I right?"
"Possibly."
"Then don't finish it."
He picked up his jacket, still smiling.
"You laughed before."
"Twice. I was generous."
"I thought it was working."
"It worked. It's had its moment."
Neville nodded with a seriousness that lasted until they reached the door.
"I'll give it some time to mature."
Hélène turned. He raised both hands.
"That was the last one."
✦ ✦ ✦
The café on the corner had a free table by the window. Neville looked at the menu outside.
"I'm hungry. Would you like something to eat?"
Hélène examined the choices. There was soup, sandwiches and a tart that looked good.
"I have something on later."
"So do I."
Neither mentioned a time. They went in. Neville let her choose her chair. Hélène settled beside the window and put her bag next to her. He sat opposite.
"This one doesn't sink," he said, testing his chair.
Hélène smiled.
"We're making progress already."
They ordered food. For a few minutes, they carried on discussing the project. Then the waiter brought water, Neville thanked him and asked:
"Did you always want to study medicine?"
Hélène pulled her napkin out from under the cutlery.
"Not exactly."
"What did you want to do before?"
"I had several ideas."
He waited. She unfolded the napkin over her lap.
"Someone said I wouldn't be able to."
Neville tilted his head slightly.
"Study medicine?"
"Yes."
"And you decided to do it?"
"Not immediately."
He looked at her. Hélène sighed.
"Almost immediately."
Neville began to smile.
"It's rather a long course of training to win an argument."
"My best friend makes that observation with unnecessary frequency."
"Is he wrong?"
She picked up her glass.
"It was my choice."
"I didn't say it wasn't."
Hélène drank some water. So did Neville. She put down her glass.
"I was good at the subjects I needed. I liked studying. It wasn't an absurd decision."
"It doesn't sound absurd."
"You have an expression."
He tried to get rid of it. He didn't entirely succeed.
"I was just thinking I'd have chosen a quicker way."
Hélène looked at him for a few seconds. Then she laughed. Neville relaxed in his chair.
"Did you tell them?" he asked.
"What?"
"That you'd managed it."
Hélène opened her mouth. Closed it again. He waited.
"There have been opportunities," she replied.
"More than one?"
"Over the years."
Neville laughed. Hélène tried to remain serious, but his laugh was a problem. It took over his whole face and seemed to require company.
"You'd get on very well with Draco," she said.
"The company's director of business development?"
"The very same."
"I haven't met him yet."
"When you do, don't discuss my education."
"We can agree on something else."
"Good."
"Plants."
Hélène narrowed her eyes. Neville picked up his glass before she could reply.
✦ ✦ ✦
The food arrived. Neville had ordered a sandwich and received something tall enough to require planning. He stared at his plate. Hélène picked up her soup spoon.
"You look worried."
"The photograph didn't show how tall it was."
He tried to get hold of the sandwich. A lettuce leaf slipped out and fell onto the plate. Hélène lowered her eyes to her soup. Neville put the lettuce back and tried again. Another leaf fell out.
"You could use the cutlery," she suggested.
"It's a matter of principle now."
Hélène knew that phrase very well. She waited Nwhile eville managed to lift the sandwich and take a bite, but had to put it straight back on the plate. He chewed carefully. Swallowed.
"Good," he declared.
Hélène laughed. He pointed at her.
"You thought that was funny."
"You didn't make a joke."
"Even better. Less work."
Hélène was halfway through her soup before she realised Neville was eating more slowly so they could keep talking. She spoke about a patient who had asked an unexpected question, leaving out anything that could identify her. He told her about a presentation during which he had spent several minutes explaining the wrong graph before discovering that everyone was looking at the next slide.
"Nobody told you?" she asked.
"One person tried."
"And you?"
Neville grimaced.
"I asked them to wait until I'd finished."
Hélène put down her spoon.
"No."
"Unfortunately."
She started laughing. So did Neville, though he still seemed to feel something at the memory.
"I was very well prepared," he explained.
"For the previous graph."
"Exactly."
The soup was finished. So was the sandwich. Hélène checked her watch. She could still stay. Neville collected the lettuce that had escaped during the battle.
"Dessert?"
She looked at the display.
"The tart looks good."
"We could share."
Hélène examined the portions.
"We could order two."
Neville followed her gaze.
"Good point."
✦ ✦ ✦
The tart wasn't as good as it looked. Hélène tasted it, paused and tried it again. Neville waited.
"Well?"
"The pastry's good."
He looked at the filling.
"A diplomatic answer."
"I'm trying."
Neville took another bite.
"I think it's good."
Hélène stared at him.
"You like it?"
"I do."
She pushed her plate towards him. Neville looked from the tart to her face.
"Are you sure?"
"Absolutely."
He drew the plate closer.
"You could order something else."
"I'm not starting an investigation."
Neville lowered his eyes to the tart. Hélène noticed his smile.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"Longbottom."
He looked up.
"You could tell the pastry chef he can't make a decent tart. It worked on you."
Hélène was still for a moment. Then she started laughing. Neville smiled, pleased.
"That was a good one," he said.
She pointed her fork at him.
"Don't spoil it."
He nodded and ate the tart.
✦ ✦ ✦
Outside, Hélène had to wrap her scarf twice around her neck against the wind. Neville waited beside her. He was wearing his jacket and holding his folded coat over one arm.
"Aren't you going to put that on?" she asked.
He looked at the coat.
"Yes."
He put it on. Hélène adjusted the bag on her shoulder. For a few seconds, they stood outside the café, though both already knew which way they needed to go.
"I enjoyed the meeting," Neville said.
"So did I."
"I think we found a good question."
"We did."
He nodded. Hélène waited. Neville looked at the café window, then at her.
"I enjoyed lunch too."
She smiled.
"Despite the tart?"
"I liked the tart."
"Yes. I must remember that when you recommend anything."
Neville laughed. Someone passed between them and the window. They moved a little closer to the wall.
"Would you like to have dinner with me?" he asked.
Hélène looked at his face. There was no open folder, no diary, no question about criteria.
"I would."
His smile came before his reply.
"Good."
"But I'm choosing dessert."
"I can live with that."
She took her phone out of her bag. They agreed on a day. Neville had to check a commitment, and Hélène found she already had the evening free. She put her phone away.
"Settled, then."
"Settled."
He looked about to add something. Hélène raised an eyebrow. Neville smiled.
"It wasn't about roots."
"Good."
She began walking. She had taken three steps when she heard:
"But you laughed."
She turned. Neville was still outside the café.
"Twice," she said.
He raised two fingers, acknowledging the number. Hélène walked on. By the corner, she was smiling.