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then the colours and the broom suddenly made sense. He was one of the Harry Potter characters, but in his typical left-of-centre way he wasn’t wearing the house colours of Gryffindor or Slytherin, but Hufflepuff. Of course he’d chosen Hufflepuff—he was kind, hardworking and honourable. The fluttery feeling intensified.

‘Well, Cedric Diggory, I hope you brought butterbeer.’

‘I did actually.’

Lachlan flipped off the lid of the esky and lifted out butterscotch schnapps, vanilla vodka, cream soda, whipped cream, a packet of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans, chocolate frogs and all eight Harry Potter DVDs.

‘Fancy a Harry Potter night?’

Stunned, Jade stared at her kitchen bench now crowded with confectionary. She opened her mouth but words failed her. She couldn’t work out if she wanted to cry or squeal in delight. Both responses unsettled her.

‘Unless of course you’re busy?’ Worry carved lines across his forehead. ‘Hell, you told me once you don’t like surprises. I should have called you first or gone with a traditional date. I was going to ask you out, but I didn’t want to stress you about babysitting or hear you say no. Shit, I’ve stuffed it, haven’t I? Sorry.’

His sincerity baffled her. She wasn’t used to anyone apologising to her, let alone a guy. And part of her would have liked him to ask her out, even though this sort of surprise was kind and thoughtful.

Lachlan put the bottle of schnapps back in the esky.

Say something!

‘If I’d known you were coming, I’d have cleared my schedule and dressed for the occasion. Now I’m going to have to squeeze you in between talking to Beyoncé and finding a cure for Ebola.’

His eyes sparkled like morning dew on rainforest moss. ‘In that case I feel very privileged.’ He handed her a bag. ‘Sorry if I got this wrong too.’

Confused, she opened it and pulled out a blue and grey scarf. ‘Ravenclaw?’

‘Yeah. You’re always reading and spouting fun facts.’

‘Thanks.’ She wrapped the scarf around her neck, trying not to think about how Cho Chang from Ravenclaw had been Cedric Diggory’s girlfriend. Was Lachlan trying to tell her something?

Shut up!

She got out glasses for the butterbeer. ‘Did you know that The Three Broomsticks in the movie is a real pub in Oxford?’

‘I did not.’ Lachlan mixed the ingredients and dolloped in cream. ‘Did you know they laid carpet and hung wallpaper with the Hogwarts emblem in the Princess Theatre in Melbourne just for Harry Potter and the Cursed Child?’

‘I did not.’ Tickets to the show cost more than half her fortnightly Centrelink benefit. ‘Sounds amazing. Have you seen it?’

He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and she realised he didn’t want to tell her. She didn’t know if she was offended he didn’t want to make her feel bad or annoyed with him that it had crossed his mind.

He handed her a butterbeer. ‘Uncle Bob and I went to see it soon after it opened.’

‘I bet it was amazing.’

‘Almost as amazing as this butterbeer.’

‘That’s probably overselling it.’

He grinned. ‘I dunno. I’ve spent a lot of time perfecting this recipe. Cheers.’

She clinked his glass and took a sip. At first she could only taste sugary sweetness and then the alcohol swooped through her veins. ‘Oh my God.’

‘Told you.’

She laughed and picked up the chocolate frogs and the box of Bertie Bott’s Beans before walking to the couch. ‘So are we watching Goblet of Fire?’

‘You do realise Cedric dies in that.’

She grinned. ‘Yeah, but he goes out a Triwizard champion.’

Lachlan looked unimpressed, but he slid the DVD into the player and joined her on the couch.

Jade momentarily wondered if he’d do what most men she knew would—cop a feel as payment for the food and drink. Of course he didn’t. Nerd that he was, he got into the movie, quoting most of Cedric’s lines and making her laugh.

When they paused to make a second butterbeer, Jade realised it was almost ten. ‘I wonder where Helen is? She’s usually home by now.’

Lachlan’s neck flushed red and he busied himself with the vanilla vodka.

‘What’s going on?’ she asked.

‘Nothing.’

‘Yeah, nah. Something.’

He sighed, his face now bright pink. ‘I might have asked Helen if she’d mind going to Bob’s place until eleven.’

Jade didn’t know what shocked her more—that Lachlan wanted to be alone with her or that Helen had gone to Bob’s when she didn’t have a reason.

‘I … that’s …’ But her usually quick brain was floating in a warm bath of vodka and schnapps. Before she could stop herself, she said, ‘Do you want to kiss me?’

‘Only if you want me to.’ He met her gaze. ‘Do you?’

Did she? No guy had ever bothered to ask her the question before. The men she knew just moved right on in whether she wanted them to or not. She and Corey had sex the first night they met, which she’d been fine about, but he hadn’t asked if she wanted it—it had been a given. Jade fiddled with the hem of her faded T-shirt. Was Lachlan a wimp for not swooping in for a romantic kiss or was this what respect looked like? She thought about years of drunk boys and men and how their kisses were never like the movies.

‘Do you always ask first?’

‘Since Me Too, I do.’ He gave a wry smile. ‘When I was at uni, I thought I was a decent bloke who only kissed girls who gave me the vibe they wanted me to. I thought it worked right up until Grace slapped me. Turned out I’d confused friendship with something more. I know asking’s not particularly romantic, but neither is being kissed by someone you don’t like that way. I figure the romance starts once I’ve got consent.’

The butterflies that had been fluttering low in her belly since he’d arrived multiplied by ten thousand, swooping and diving. Then her breath hitched. Not once had she initiated anything with a bloke. Charlene and her Finley friends had told her only sluts make the first move and no man respects a slut—they just use her. But

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