“Yes, precisely,” Jemima said with a little laugh – to the first question he asked her, at least.

The second was nothing if not well-intentioned, but Jemima crumpled a little internally all the same. Because there was really nothing of any use she could say, or talk about the way her siblings or her parents could. Like he could, be it potioneering or even chess, which he hadn’t even taken up as a proper hobby yet! Expanding one’s mind and hobbies was important, he had said, so casually. Maybe that was why Jemima hadn’t found a husband, after all: she simply wasn’t smart enough to be interesting.

“Umm,” Jemima said bashfully, trying to wrack her brains for any properly worthy hobbies she had or had ever possessed, “I like drawing. And flower-pressing. Charms,” she said (although she hadn’t practised anything particularly useful since seventh year). “And,” she finished lamely, hoping that he had graduated long before her diary debacle and wouldn’t make any connection here, “I like to write.”

She felt hot and embarrassed at rambling now, and for the first time in this conversation really did wish she could escape. “And I don’t mind if you kiss me,” she added, in case permission was what he was waiting for, and in any case he was nice. (Or maybe he just hated the thought of kissing her, and that was why he hadn’t: she would believe that well enough too.)

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"Noble pursuits," Harry said, nodding. He meant it, even though he was being kind. He supposed that young ladies of her station--or what he assumed was her station, anyway--were usually encouraged toward those sorts of hobbies. Regardless, Harry could appreciate anything that required a certain amount of creativity.

"Ah--well." Harry could feel his cheeks heating up. Well. There was really nothing else for it, really. And anyway, she seemed like a nice enough lady, and if he had her permission... Harry dutifully leaned down and pressed a relatively chaste kiss to her lips.

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He had called her hobbies noble, which was kind of him and certainly a lie – or at least certainly more of a lie than it had been of her to call getting into chess noble. No one on earth thought flower-pressing especially noble, she was sure.

But she had flushed a little at that, and then at her own boldness. She was worried he would kiss her and simultaneously worried, now, that he wouldn’t. Because if she had offered him the way out of this and he didn’t even want to kiss her under duress than one may as well have called Jemima the Frog Princess, because she was no better than a gross ugly toad—

Oh. He just had. It had been so brief and so restrained that she might have blinked and missed it; unconsciously, Jemima touched her fingers shyly to her mouth as he pulled back. It was scarcely her first kiss, but she did not much like kissing strangers; at least it had been quite painless. She grinned awkwardly at him. “Well, maybe I’ll have to take up chess too,” she joked, to brush past the kiss, as she picked up a foot now to see if it had worked.

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"You should," Harry said, with a smile that was genuine. He took his own step back, and was relieved to discover that he could. He let out a sigh. "Well, that could have been very... unfortunate." Harry glanced over the woman's shoulder, grateful to discover that no one had in fact appeared at this inopportune moment.

Bowing slightly, Harry said, "I'm sorry for having inadvertently gotten you into this situation, miss, but I hope it at least wasn't too unpleasant." He offered a sheepish smile.

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Set by Bee <3

They were free, and no one had witnessed them, and to keep things that way she should really flee and be thankful for her anonymity – but Jemima had summarily decided that she liked this young man. He really was very genuinely nice. She was not sure she had said that about many boys before, but now she thought that a high compliment indeed.

So, there was no real logic or intelligence to saying anything more, but Jemima simply had to, out of gratitude. “Miss Farley,” she said, with a tentative smile and faux little curtsy, now she was free to move her feet, “Jemima. And it wasn’t unpleasant at all,” she admitted, which were bold words, perhaps, but delivered diffidently. “The conversation was... quite captivating, actually.” At this juncture her confidence failed her, so she offered him a merry little wave and, blushing furiously, hurried towards the door of the greenhouse.

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Harry smiled, and had time to introduce himself--"Harry Berkwood" before Miss Farley hurried off. He watched her go, mildly amused by the whole thing now that it was done. Not unpleasant at all, no.

Harry stayed behind for a few minutes more before slipping out the door. He considered exploring more before deciding that he didn't want to know if there were any other surprises hiding about. Best not.

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Set by Bee <3