Chapter Text
Hélène had chosen the restaurant after examining four menus. Five, if she counted the place she had rejected before finishing. When Neville arrived, she was by the entrance, her coat over her arm. She wore a deep-blue silk dress and small earrings that caught the light when she turned. He stopped before her. Smiled.
"Hi."
"Hi."
Neville went on looking. Hélène raised her eyebrows.
"What?"
"You look beautiful."
She smiled before answering.
"Thank you. So do you."
He looked down at his shirt, as though checking. Hélène reached out to straighten a point of his collar caught beneath his jacket.
"There."
Neville looked at her again.
"Now?"
"Now."
A waiter approached for their coats. Hélène gave the reservation name. Neville followed her to the table. Before they sat, she asked:
"Do you like it?"
He looked around.
"I do."
"It's quieter on this side."
"It seems so."
"And the tables aren't so close together."
Neville pulled out her chair. Hélène sat. He took the seat opposite.
"Have you been before?" he asked.
"Not yet."
Neville smiled.
"So we're finding out together."
Hélène opened the menu.
"I did my research."
✦ ✦ ✦
The dish that had prompted her choice of restaurant was unavailable. Hélène received the information with a brief pause.
"It's unavailable today?"
"We changed the menu this week," the waiter explained.
She looked at the page. Then at him.
"It was still on the website."
"I'll ask them to update it."
The waiter suggested another dish, explained how it was prepared and gave them more time to decide. Hélène read the description. Neville examined his own page.
"Was that the one you wanted?" he asked.
"Yes."
"The other one sounds good."
"It isn't the same."
He looked up.
"No. But it sounds good."
Hélène returned to the menu. There were other options. She knew there were other options. She could read them perfectly well. Still, she had chosen the place for a particular reason and would now have to choose something else. Neville turned a page.
"I think I'll have this."
She looked.
"Do you like that?"
"Yes."
"It's quite heavy."
"I'm hungry."
Hélène closed the menu for a moment. Neville waited.
"Have you decided?" he asked.
"I'm deciding."
He nodded. A waiter passed nearby. Neville made a small gesture to call him. Hélène caught the edge of her menu.
"I haven't finished."
Neville lowered his hand.
"Sorry. I thought you'd closed it because you knew."
"I closed it to think."
He looked at the menu in his hands.
"Right."
Hélène opened hers again. Read two more descriptions. Chose the waiter's first suggestion. When he returned, she ordered. Neville placed his own order and asked how long it would take. Hélène looked at him.
"I'm hungry," he repeated.
She began to smile.
"You mentioned it."
"It's still true."
✦ ✦ ✦
The wine came first. Neville waited until both glasses had been filled before raising his.
"To dinner."
Hélène touched her glass to his.
"Without slides."
He laughed.
"Did Draco ask again?"
"No. But he made it sound a very reasonable possibility."
Neville took a sip.
"Did he like meeting me?"
Hélène studied him.
"Yes."
"Are you sure?"
"You corrected one of his assumptions and were still welcome to remain in my sitting room. It's a good sign."
Neville smiled.
"I thought he was a bit..."
"He was."
"I haven't said what yet."
"You don't need to."
Hélène drank some wine. Neville leaned back, more at ease.
"Harry seemed to enjoy the jokes."
She put down her glass.
"Don't start."
"I was thinking perhaps—"
"Neville."
He smiled. Hélène tried to keep a stern expression. It was difficult. He wore a dark jacket, his shirt open at the collar. One sleeve had ridden up a little when he reached for his glass. Hélène looked at his hand, then his face. Neville noticed the change.
"What?"
She rested an elbow on the table.
"I'm trying to decide whether you're about to ruin a compliment."
He was quiet for a moment.
"You were going to compliment me?"
"I was."
Neville put down his glass.
"I can be quiet."
Hélène laughed.
"You look very handsome."
His smile appeared slowly.
"Thank you."
"And the shirt's a good choice."
Neville looked at her. This time he didn't need to check the shirt.
"It was a very deliberate decision."
Hélène raised her glass again.
"I'm glad."
✦ ✦ ✦
The conversation no longer required either of them to search for a subject. Neville asked about her family. Hélène explained where they lived, how they divided their time between the two countries and why her mother never accepted a short answer about work.
"Does she ask if you're eating?" he said.
"Yes."
"My gran does too."
"Do you answer?"
"I do."
Hélène waited. Neville smiled.
"Sometimes I send a photo."
"Does that work?"
"Depends on the photo."
She laughed. He explained he had learnt to cook a few things so he wouldn't have to receive instructions over the phone with dinner already on the hob.
"And she trusts you now?"
"With some things."
"Which?"
"Potatoes."
Hélène looked at him.
"That doesn't sound like much."
"It took time to earn."
The food arrived. Neville moved back to let the waiter set down his plate and thanked him with an enthusiasm Hélène considered thoroughly deserved after so many references to hunger. She examined her own dish. Tasted it. Neville waited.
"Good?" he asked.
Hélène nodded. Took another mouthful.
"Very good."
He smiled.
"Good."
She glanced at the menu the waiter was collecting from the next table. Then at Neville.
"I was a little annoyed."
"I noticed."
"I needn't have chosen this place if they didn't have that dish."
Neville cut his food.
"But you like this one now."
"I do."
"And I like mine."
She looked at him. Neville looked up.
"I'm not saying you can't be annoyed."
Hélène put down her fork.
"You just wanted to order."
"Very much."
She began laughing. Neville smiled and returned to his food.
✦ ✦ ✦
At dessert, he recommended a combination Hélène regarded with suspicion.
"Have you tried it?" she asked.
"Yes."
"And liked it?"
"Very much."
She read the description.
"I don't know."
"You should try it."
Hélène looked up. Neville appeared to find nothing worrying in his suggestion. She agreed. When their plates arrived, he watched with an attention that began to amuse her before the first spoonful. Hélène tasted it. Paused. Neville leaned forward a little.
"Well?"
She looked at her plate again.
"I don't like it much."
He looked surprised.
"Did you try both parts together?"
Hélène looked at the spoon.
"Yes."
"Perhaps you didn't have enough of this."
He indicated part of the dessert. She took another spoonful in the suggested proportion. Tasted it. Neville waited. Hélène put down her spoon.
"No."
He examined the dish.
"It's a very good combination."
"For you."
"Yes, but the contrast—"
Hélène began to smile. Neville stopped.
"What?"
"Your expression's reminding me of someone."
He looked at her.
"Who?"
"Me. Serving pastis."
Neville went quiet. Then he lowered his head and laughed. Hélène pushed her plate a few inches towards him.
"You can defend the combination by eating it."
"Would you like something else?"
"Yes."
Neville nodded.
"No recommendations from me."
"At least today."
He pulled the plate closer. When the waiter approached, Hélène ordered a dessert she knew. Neville didn't interfere. She watched him approvingly.
"Very good."
"I'm learning."
✦ ✦ ✦
They stayed after the plates were cleared. Neville had coffee. Hélène ordered tea. The restaurant was beginning to empty, though quiet conversations continued at other tables and staff crossed the room. She rested her face on one hand. Neville told a childhood story about spending an entire afternoon waiting for an experiment to work, refusing to leave it.
"What were you trying to do?"
He explained. Hélène laughed before he finished.
"You thought it would work?"
"I was quite certain."
"And afterwards?"
"I stayed certain for far too long."
She shook her head.
"I can imagine."
Neville smiled. Hélène left her free hand on the table. He looked at it. Then reached out and rested his own over hers. The conversation paused. Hélène looked down at their hands. Neville neither squeezed nor pulled. She turned hers slightly, settling her fingers beneath his. When she looked up, he was smiling.
"You missed the end of the story," he said.
"I think I know."
"It didn't work."
"A surprise."
Neville laughed. His hand stayed over hers.
✦ ✦ ✦
Outside, Hélène put on her coat and let Neville free the hair caught beneath the collar. He did it carefully. She turned to thank him. They were too close to need to speak loudly.
"I enjoyed dinner," Neville said.
"So did I."
"Even the part where I tried to explain your dessert?"
Hélène smiled.
"That was very enlightening."
He grimaced. She touched the jacket sleeve showing beneath his coat. Neville looked at her hand. Then at her. Hélène moved a little closer. So did he. The kiss began carefully. Hélène released his sleeve to rest her hand on his chest, and Neville placed his at her waist. When they drew apart, he was still close. She smiled. Neville opened his mouth. Hélène raised an eyebrow. He stopped.
"What?"
"I'm waiting."
"I was going to say I enjoyed that too."
She laughed softly.
"You can say it."
"I enjoyed that too."
Hélène caught his lapel.
"Good."
She drew him closer. This time, they didn't talk first.