welcome to chimera!

[John Homme]

Madam Puddifoot's, though something he'd always heard referenced in his dormitory lilting giggles, was not an establishment John was very familiar with. Though a seventh year and truly warmed into being seventeen now, he had yet to take a girl from school on any sort of date at all; he thought his shock was reasonable then, even if it was a little exaggerated initially. It had been Roberta's idea in the first place as he recalled, and as they approached in comfortable quiet, he was honestly rather glad it hadn't been his. Wondering briefly if - since he knew she'd dated Rudolf, at least - she had been here before, he failed to do so before he turned to catch her eye, expression almost skeptical.

It wasn't that the gaudy decorations were particularly offensive, or even that he found it emasculating to be seen near so many frills; he was only surprised and somewhat intimidated by the overtly romantic atmosphere to the place. He masked it belatedly though, and even found it in himself to see the humor of it, grinning slightly. Hand still clasped around hers, having paused awkwardly outside the door, he nodded toward the front window. Inside, there were several couples, some of whom seemed infinitely more comfortable with each other than John thought he'd ever be with anyone. "It looks nice," he said quietly, though it was fairly obvious that he was lying.

Opening the door for her automatically and only dropping her hands so that she could comfortably enter before him, John watched her go and followed only after she was inside. Peering upward, toward the source of the melodic little bell that had gone off when he opened the door, he wasn't quite prepared for the perfumey, coffee-laden wall of warm air that hit him. Rather than commenting on a smell that rather made him want to make a face or cough, he smiled again. "Warm," he commented, as articulate as John ever was.

[Roberta Weasley]

Bobbie hadn't ever been to Madame Puddifoots though, like John, she'd heard it discussed, and knew of it as a destination for couples, who wanted to be more out of the way from the crowds of students at the Three Broomsticks. She hadn't thought it strange at all then, to make the suggestion, even though she didn't know a huge deal about the place. It seemed to her an ideal arrangement, and she hadn't given it a great deal of thought, once it was decided upon.

She had, however, given a great deal of thought to the outing in genearl, in advance. Though she had been to Hogsmeade before with boys - on regular-enough occasions - there was something about sharing John's company that she looked forward to particularly, and that made her particularly nervous about getting things right. This was rather unusual for Bobbie, whose general attitude was fairly easy-going and un-anxious. She had been looking forward to seeing John again; and it had made her all excitement, all morning. Despite her thinking-ahead, she had still got ready too late, and therefore in a rush, tying a blue bow in her red curls in a lop-sided manner, before pulling on her cloak and rushing down to the entrance hall.

But now that they were out, her nervousness had slowed, as already, it was enjoyable to be with John. They made their way through the village and to Madame Puddifoots - at which point, she too stopped, staring at the garish exterior of the tea shop: she had seen the shop before, though never paid it very much attention or consideration. She gave him a rather amused look, but stepped in ahead of him, undeterred. She almost laughed, when they came in giddy-looking interior. She stared about, having expected something a little more calme, maybe. Or anything. She turned back to John, hearing his comment. "Is this alright for you?"

[John Homme]

Glad that he didn't seem to be the only surprised party, grinning properly if a little sheepishly as she returned his look, John almost laughed. "It's fine with me," he replied, trying to sound passive but only coming off nervous. He was glad that he'd dropped her hand already, as his palms had started to sweat a bit as he glanced around at the china sugarpots and lacy doilies; the cozy couples didn't help much either, and they were perhaps the worst part. Embarrassed on their behalf, if only because he was certain he would never be the type inclined to public displays of affection, John itched a little at his forehead before he remembered himself.

"Where would you like to sit?" he asked after a long and slightly awkward pause, offering in an absent gesture to help her with her coat. "Away from the window?" he murmured thoughtfully, and only thought to amend himself after another pause. "Because it - uhh, you'd be cold, I meant," he tacked on, speaking a bit more quickly.

[Roberta Weasley]

She liked his grin automatically, and returned it, accepting his acceptance of the location without much questioning: she wasn't prone to fussing about such things, so that if he said he was fine with it, she expected him to be. "It's a bit frillier than I expected," she admitted, not seeming too deterred, and not prone to quite as many nerves over it as her companion (though the sight of the closeness of some of the cuddles did surprise her rather: that sort of intimacy, while at tea, wouldn't have occurred to her, and she suspected would frighten John.)

She looked around the room, when he asked, her gaze settling first on a table nearish the window, though she looked away from something farther, once he made the request. She found it a little odd, and creased a small frown, though she wasn't the sort to take huge, lasting offense to such things. "Is over here alright?" she asked, gesturing to a table at the far side of the room, her frown fading fairly quickly.

[John Homme]

"Me too," he agreed, though not in a manner that exposed any distaste he might have felt at it. It was fitting, he supposed; personally, he thought the whole place looked like some tea shop incarnation of Valentine's Day. This was forgotten fairly quickly though, when he glanced down at her again. His brow burrowing noticeably as he caught Roberta's change of expression, he felt a rush of guilt and awkwardness. Hand at her upper back after a brief hesitation in a manner that was truthfully more assuring and awkward than affectionate, he shrugged indecisively before backpedaling entirely.

"We - I mean, we could sit by the window if you prefer," he stammered before licking his lips nervously and eyeing the free tables by the window again. Afraid she'd taken it the wrong way and eager to right the wrong (imagined or not), John tilted his head a little toward a small table that sat near a somewhat foggy window. "That one looks nice," he commented nervously, quite unaware that he was making too big a deal out of where they sat.

[Roberta Weasley]

Roberta hadn't been incredibly inclined to think John was attempting to hide her, or was embarrassed of her, even if her initial reaction had been a touch of discomfort with his instinct. Bobbie generally thought highly of John, and had no reason to expect him to be rude about her, or embarrassed of her, really. She was in the process of reminding herself this - and of accepting it as correct - when she realised that he had not yet dropped the subject.

"If you want," she said, her gaze resting on the table, "You're right: we might be cold." She spoke as calmly as she could, trying to keep anything that could be interpreted as annoyance from her voice (which wasn't difficult, as she wasn't really, lastingly annoyed). Still, trying to ease the awkwardness of the situation, with some difficulty, and without a great deal of expertise, she stepped towards the table that he had suggested - not inclined to dwell on whatever it was that was happening, particularly this early in, when there was nothing really to be upset about.

[John Homme]

Satisfied that things were alright, for even he was aware that it had been a fairly minor hiccup, John followed happily. Perhaps a little awkwardly, he used the length of his legs to his advantage, nervously striding ahead in order to pull out her chair. It was an automatic gesture, just as the door had been, and one that even he had been taught since childhood. He might not have been taught any of the more specific or intricate workings of etiquette that would've helped him along in Slug Club, but he certainly knew enough to get him by, so far as being a gentleman went; he was under the impression, in fact, that everyone at Hogwarts knew at least what he did.

Only scuttling to the other side of their little table when he was finished, long leg bumping into the bottom of it when he sat and making him cringe, he tried hard to relax. "Whoops," was the only acknowledgement he gave it besides a sheepish smile and a slightly red tinge. Characteristically, now that he was seated and feeling in a bit more of a personal position, John felt his nerves intensify and, as a result, could think of nothing to say.

[Roberta Weasley]

"Thanks," Roberta answered, as he held out the chair, and she slipped past him to sit. She was relieved that the subject was dropped, before it could get any more uncomfortable, and so her smile returned more genuinely, by the time she was seated with him at the table. Bobbie, in general, didn't get hung up on things, and was, anyway, determined to to enjoy the afternoon out. She dropped her hands in her lap, and smiled broadly across the table at him, though she was soon confronted in this gesture by a lasting silence, that stretched a little longer than was comfortable.

Once it was apparent that John wasn't going to speak - which took Bobbie a moment to properly realise - she cleared her throat quickly, and took over the job herself; not easily put off. "It's a pretty nice day, don't you think?" She glanced past him out the window, taking advantage of their debated choice of seating, "I bundled up for colder weather."

[John Homme]

A quiet person by nature, discounting those times when he got too nervous to shut up, John remained silent through the awkwardness. In fact, it probably felt a little less uncomfortable for him; of course, it made him edgy that he knew he was expected to keep up steady conversation, but it felt sort of nice to just enjoy her company as well. Not for the first time, he found himself grateful for Roberta's patience and sweet disposition - and it certainly didn't help that she was the friendly and outgoing sort. That, John thought distractedly, was probably the type that he needed, romantically speaking.

Not particularly agreeing that it had been nice out, if only because he had not yet acclimated himself to Scottish winters or snow, he kept it to himself. Instead, he glanced out the window as well, eyeing the sky and then the lightly snowed-upon street briefly. "There is a bit of sun, yes," he admitted, at length, finally remembering to speak slowly and clearly for the sake of his company. "Do - um, do you prefer the winter?" he asked, feeling it was as good a thing to say as any other, attention turning back to her somewhat anxiously.

[Roberta Weasley]

She glanced up at the sky, out the window - it was a characteristically grey day, but they were right in seeing glimpses of sun, not too concealed. It was after a moment that she looked back at John - noticing his effort to speak clearly, so that even with his accent, she could understand him. Her smile hadn't faded; the awkwardness didn't discourage her entirely. After all, it was John, and she knew he was shy: she liked it about him, just as she thought she liked most things that defined him - even his accent, had it been a problem. That was, she thought, with a typically easy-going approach, the reason she was here.

So she smiled, and shook her head, "No, I like the summer - don't you think everyone does?" She had clasped her hands in her lap, and was fiddling with her fingers absently under the table, while she watched him; despite her determination to press through their awkwardness, it was not entirely forgotten, or disappeared. "Do you?" she added, realising that was essential to progress the conversation.