Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Just my plot and Personal characters. The book cover was designed by myself. I do not allow its use. Enjoy the story and as always, read and review. -MJP
"An Englishman, a Scot and an Aussie walk into a bar."
That's how I started telling it, anyway, before my friend jumped in saying, "That's not a story, that's a prelude to a bad joke!"
She was right, so I decided to revise the beginning-
"I fancy you like mad."
That was his opening line when we met at a club in East end, London, England in 2019. He had to shout at my ear to be heard above the din.
Hand at the small of my back, he guided me to a doorway set off to the side. I suppose that must be the VIP room. There was a group of people sprawled across various chairs. This fellow rises up on gangly limbs and ambles over to where we stand.
"Oh, the bloody pom's arrived! Good on you to join us, mate." He beams, slapping Draco on the back.
"You must be Hermione, huh? Nice to meet you." He bows superfluously over my hand.
"You're an Aussie?" My delight is evident by the flush colouring my skin.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah indeed. I'm Nigel." He pulls me from Draco's grasp to introduce me to some more people. A willowy girl who doesn't acknowledge me. A bloke in a kilt glares up at me as if he can't be arsed to say hello. Charming.
Perhaps it is thanks to my wild American upbringing that I am feeling brave, or my courage comes from the shots Nigel-the-Aussie keeps forcing down my throat, but I stick my hand in the Scots face, daring him to ignore me again.
His glare intensifies.
I do believe I have a death wish.
