An "Obvious" Match

Way to go, Simon! Look at you, talking all by yourself like a big boy. You're a man now, aren't you? Courting Amelia Lyons, an older, pretty woman. You old dog. No chance in Cormac doubting that you are truly his offspring, now, eh? You can get the girl effortlessly. Now keep it up. Stick on subjects you know. Keep her nodding. Smile. Be careful when you eat. Attaboy.

Simon was very, very pleased with his performance. He seemed to be interesting Amelia, who did not seem capable of stopping all of her approving nods. She seemed to really like what he was saying, he took it, for she continued nodding and even seemed ready to ask follow up questions. Simon's confidence soared and he even cocked his head a little, feeling a little self sure. He could do this.

The waitress brought their food, asking if the lovebirds wanted anything. While his confidence was still up, he managed to give a charming chuckle before saying, "No thank you. I'll be sure to let you know if anything comes to mind. Thanks." He sent her winning smile. This was not so bad after all. Once you got him on a roll, he could go.

He began to eat, making sure to be careful not to drop anything on his clothes, to leave food clinging to his lip or his mouth, to chew with his mouth closed, to not spit... Basically not to seem repulsive when he ate like most other males usually seemed to do. He dabbed at his mouth after every few bites with a napkin and took intermittent sips of water.

Amelia finally asked what his father was doing and Simon swallowed what he was eating, raising the napkin to his mouth until he was sure there would be no food rebellion. "Oh, this and that. He has built up wealth and reputation so he does not need to do much. Mostly he dabbles in Ministry Affairs. Department of Magical Games and Sports. That sort. What do your parents do?"

Simon’s reaction to the waitress’s comment was far removed from how Amelia had responded, and she couldn’t help but noticing that he seemed more suave when she arrived, laughing off the comment about them being lovebirds instead of blushing and feeling murderous like she had. Was he flirting with the waitress? Amelia was less insulted by this than she was entertained by it. The waitress would likely change places with her in a heartbeat if she knew that the boy sitting across from her was Cormac McLaggen’s son – he must have been famous for Antoinette to have set Amelia up with Simon – and Amelia would be free to spend the rest of her evening in peace, and in the most comfortable pair of pajamas she could find after she cut herself out of this dress with the jaws of life.

But if Simon was interested in the waitress, he made no move on it save to smile boldly at her and then turning back to his food as she disappeared behind the thick velvet curtains that blocked their table from view. Simon was eating so politely that Amelia was somewhat embarrassed to be stabbing her food with such vigor (taking her annoyance at the waitress out on the salmon), and she consciously took a more delicate bite the next time she put her fork to the plate.

They ate in silence for a few minutes before Amelia broke the silence with her question about Simon’s father, which she had only asked to keep him talking. It worked, though Simon’s answer to this question was more vague. Amelia was especially attuned to vague answers to personal questions because she was so practiced in giving them. Simon’s answer didn’t seem to be intentionally vague, however, but rather it seemed that Cormac didn’t really do much of anything nowadays, but Simon did mention the two words that must have caught Antoinette’s attention: wealth and reputation.

If there were any traits that mattered to her mother in a potential suitor for her daughter, it were those two words. If Cormac had money and influence, then by proxy, so did Simon. No doubt Antoinette was at home right now, envisioning life after her daughter had married into the McLaggen family. Delusional, as usual. Her mother might be able to badger her into a dress meant only for a mannequin, but it would be significantly more difficult to manipulate her into marrying Simon, or anyone else for that matter.

That’s what you think… her subconscious reminded her as she nodded with the socially appropriate amount of enthusiasm to Simon’s answer, encouraging him to keep talking, You have yet to ignore any of Antoinette’s wishes, what makes you think you’ll be able to break that habit when it comes to walking down the aisle?

That is way, way, waaaaay too big a decision to let my mother make for me. And besides, I’m never getting married.

That’s what you think. Amelia added her own subconscious to the her mental list of people to strangle.

Simon’s answer to her question finished just as her own mental debate did, and he turned the question around on her. After a moment of debating just how personal this information was, Amelia decided that there was really no use in hiding her parents’ professions from Simon. He could probably find out just by asking his father or any other member of the high-society club of which her mother, and to a certain extent her father, were such proud members.

“My father does spell research for the ministry,” Amelia responded after taking a sip of water to clear her throat, “He is most highly known for his compaction spells and work in the field of transfiguration. And my mother is a concert violinist,” and a social climber living vicariously through her daughter Amelia added as a mental afterthought, though she did not say that aloud. Even her barbed tongue couldn’t bring itself to say anything against Antoinette, for whom Amelia had a great deal of respect, even if she was delusional at times.

“They’re both very accomplished,” Amelia added, by way of summary, “It is a lot to live up to.”

"Oh, I knoow," he said, rolling his eyes pompously as she said it was a lot to live up to, as though he knew exactly what it was like. To be fair, he did... sort of. His life focused around trying to impress his father, trying to prove to him that he had that charm and prosperity that Cormac had had in his years at Hogwarts. On the other hand, he just had to date a lot of girls and do well in Quidditch.

As far as real pressures, he was the only one that pressured himself to do well in school; his father had not ever made that a priority. He did not even know what he was expected to do for the future, his father had yet to tell him what he expected him to become. Simon did not know, half the time, what his father did for a living. All of the pressure was applied to the pressure.

He did not have to live up to anything, just live a certain way until his dad got bored of him. But Amelia did not need to know that.

"It's as if your parents wanted to be bigger and better than everyone, and then they expect you to exceed them as well!" he said exasperatedly. "It's dreadful."

Amelia wasn’t sure Simon’s response to her last line indicated that he understood the full implications of what kind of parental pressure Amelia existed under, but she couldn’t help but feel a little as though she might be speaking to someone who could at least partially understand. Living in the shadow of her parents all these years had made her work that much harder to make her light shine bright enough to be seen. Simon likely knew a thing or two about that, having been the son of someone who had been so popular, both in Hogwarts and after he graduated. The mere fact that Antoinette had deemed Simon a fit suitor for Amelia must mean that Cormac was someone with power and intimidation, which could only put pressure onto Simon.

It was odd for Amelia to be identifying with someone else; she had gotten so accustomed over the years to everyone telling her how odd and different she was that it became harder and harder to relate. It was sort of surreal that it should happen during a blind date her mother had sent her on, because usually these things went dismally – not to say this one was going well or anything, but… at least it wasn’t a total waste. Plus, Simon loved to talk, which made for fewer awkward silences.

And, he occasionally made good points, when he was actually stringing words together like a coherent person. The one he was making now, for example. Amelia found herself nodding along with Simon, feeling as though he were eloquating exactly what she had thought on multiple occasions. It seemed like for every ‘O’ Amelia got in one of her courses, her mother successfully executed another performance of the year. For every medal or top honors she achieved, her father invented a new spell. How was she to keep up with that?

“What an incredibly apt description,” Amelia said, speaking plainly. She hadn’t even rehearsed the words in her head, which proved just how much what Simon had said was speaking to what she was thinking.

Amelia took the last few bites of her dinner while she thought over what Simon had said, and the words made more and more sense each time. The red-headed Ravenclaw could think of many occasions on which she had felt the impossibility of ever surpassing her parents in achievement, and thus the unfeasibility of ever being able to live up to their expectations. No wonder Raoul had left; he must have realized the futility much earlier and acted on it much quicker.

Amelia had only just set down her fork when the waitress appeared at the table, looking much longer at Simon than she did at Amelia, which sort of made Amelia want to make a snide comment to her, but for once she refrained. Instead, she waited for the teenaged girl to stop ogling her “date” and turn her attention onto Amelia.

“Can I take your plate?” the waitress inquired, though she didn’t wait for the answer and merely removed it. “I’ll be right back with your dessert.”

“Dessert?” Amelia repeated automatically, sounding like a dumb parrot because she had been caught off-guard. “We haven’t ordered dessert.” Dessert meant this date was going to go longer, and that Amelia didn’t need. She wanted to leave this date feeling as though it had gone as poorly as all the others, but this last topic of conversation had left her feeling as though she and Simon actually had something in common other than influential parents. The longer this went on, the more likely Amelia was to be fooled into thinking this was an actual connection, rather than just a coincidence.

“It comes with the date night special,” the waitress said flippantly, as though this should have been obvious to Amelia, “I’ll be right back.” And she disappeared before Amelia could put up any sort of verbal protest to this idea. Amelia had the feeling that her mother was behind this in some way, because she had never heard of the ‘date night special’ before, and she had after all been here 37 times.

“I guess we’re getting dessert,” Amelia said defeatedly, turning her attention back to Simon now that the waitress had dashed off again.