By the way, I do not own one single solitary character or setting portrayed
in this fic. I have no claim upon any part of the wonderful works of
fiction created and owned solely by J.K. Rowling.
**********************************************************************
For almost two days Hermione sought refuge in the massive New York library. However, a cure for her romantic malaise eluded her until late in the afternoon of the second day. Due to her ability to store vast amounts of written information in her head, she had reviewed every book dealing with love relationships in the following sections:
Self-help, Biology, Marriage, Psychology, Relationships, and Women Studies.
She read a lot of books with titles like, "Women, Men & Myths," or "Men Who Love the Women They Leave." All of it seemed to be nothing more than a lot of rubbish. Although she was muggle born and bred, she was rapidly learning that they didn't have any better insight on love than Harry or Ron. This was not saying much. At one point, she even found herself wishing for the company of Professor Trelawny.
"At least she would tell me something sensational!"
She was in the process of packing up that second evening, when she noticed an attractive young man shifting from one foot to the other while trying not to look as if he was staring at her. Her guard went up immediately.
Looking directly at him, she found herself trapped in the clear, blue-eyed gaze of a rather attractive blond-haired fellow whom she had indeed noticed on several occasions. He had been remarkable to her primarily because she had noticed him staring at her before, but always with a sort of polite interest. "He has eyes like Draco's," she thought, "But without the malice they seem so much more human."
"Can I help you," she asked in a deceptively polite tone of voice.
"Uh....Hi! I've uh, been um, seeing you around the last couple of days, and I uh, couldn't help but notice the type of books you're reading, and I....Well...I was wondering if you might, well, be in the same boat as me."
"I see. What exactly are you asking, or inferring rather?"
"Well....It appears as though you've been dumped recently. Am I wrong? I mean, what dog has forced you to spend the days before Christmas in the library?"
"I beg your pardon!" demanded Hermione, now more than a little unsettled by the man's attempt at conversation. "I've no idea as to what you could possibly mean by what you just said."
"Oh Lord! I'm so awful at talking to people when I'm interested in meeting them. What I meant was.."
"Let me assure you," Hermione interrupted, "that I am not interested in you. Therefore, I have no problem in addressing you clearly and succinctly when I say, bugger off!"
"Ok...Sorry to bother you," he said turning away uncertainly.
Handling the situation assertively had made her feel strong. However, the hurt, puppy dog expression in his eyes, and the meek way he'd said "ok," was more than her caring heart could stand. She was too experienced in area of platonic friendships with needy young men to treat this one so rudely. There was something about him that was trustworthy, and she knew she could rely on her own intuition.
"I'm so sorry," she replied as she lightly touched his elbow to prevent him from walking away. "I'm not usually so rude, it's just that my parents 'never talk to strangers speech' plays ad nauseum in my head whenever I'm approached by someone when I'm alone. I'm, H...That is, my name is Susan. And you are?"
"Jordan Bradley," he replied clasping her hand in a friendly, but not overly exuberant, handshake.
This somewhat impersonal meeting of hands further confirmed in her mind the thought that he was just being friendly. It also caused her to remember that she had often noticed him flipping through books in the same sections she had been looking through since discovering them the previous day.
"What did you mean when you asked about my dog?"
A laugh burst from him before he could reply, and his friendliness was contagious. Hermione found herself smiling back at him.
"I apologize for my unorthodox conversational approach. You have an accent, so evidently we don't use the word 'dog' in the same slang terms. Lately, people have been using the word dog, also spelled d-a-w-g, as a euphemism for a naughty boy, you know, a player."
"Actually, I don't know what you mean. Although I'm from the U.K., most of my life has been spent in seclusion. I was to be a nun, you see."
The lie was incredible, but it was evidently the panacea of explanations. Jordan's eyes looked as big as saucers, but there was no disbelief in his expression. Also, it would easily explain her ignorance of muggle slang and American terminology.
"Oh my God, I'm not Catholic, but I've always wanted to hang with a nun!" he replied as if in awe. But then he naturally followed this up by asking, "So, if you're into the nun's life and all what's up with all the 'understanding the male psyche' books?"
"Allow me to enunciate. I WAS to take orders."
"Ohhhh... And now you given it all up for a man - and honey don't we all - and he's gone off with some 'ho! Girlfriend, he took everything you had and left you crying at the library didn't he?"
"Ah...Yeah! I mean, if a 'ho is what I think it is, then you are dead on correct. Although, he hasn't left me physically that is. No, wait! That sounded bad. We still live together...Platonically, of course.
So, he's seeing another woman and bringing her home to your apartment! You poor thing! Oh my Lord! We have to talk!"
"I know! Isn't it all dreadful," said Hermione easing back into the chair she'd been prepared to vacate. "He's enamored with this actress who lives across the hall. Roxana Hayes, or maybe Haynes, or some such name like that. And I can't move out because we are roommates AND coworkers.
"Wait! Let me get this straight! You used to be a nun, or were almost a nun. You didn't take orders because you fell in love with a man. And now he's left you for the Ravishing Roxana Haynes?" Honey! How do you get out of bed in the morning? You're a living tabloid story!"
"Oh! You won't tell anyone will you? I mean, I'm going to be all right. I'm very practical you know. I'm just looking for some insight that will explain why he would behave as badly as he has. I'm sure there a sensible explanation for it.
"You know, I think you and I are both looking for answers in the wrong place. We need to find our answers in the bottom of a martini glass. How about a drink?"
Well, I don't know. I hardly know you after all."
"Susie Girl, believe me when I tell you that I am as anxious to find MR. Right as you are. I mean, you're gorgeous, and I would love to help you find a lipstick - you could really use some - but I like my girlfriends to be just that. Girl - FRIENDS!"
Hermione felt wildly elated. Perhaps she was to have a holiday adventure instead of a holiday romance. A friend was just what she needed, and Jordan seemed perfect even though she'd just met him. "And a gay male muggle friend won't prose on at length about quidditch," she realized with satisfaction.
"You know what Jordan? I think you may be my surprise Christmas gift this year!" I'd love to have a drink with you, but I don't really feel like going to a bar. What I really need is someone to go shopping with me and help me pick out some new clothes. It would really give me a boost. And, I'll provide dinner and drinks at my place afterward!"
"You don't need to say another word. You need help bringing out the goddess I'm sure you are, and honey you have come to the right man. I do hair and make up for the soaps, although I'm sans work at the moment. You want to induce a few regrets into his rotten soul? Well, honey let me tell you, I've got great taste and I could shop 'til next week without stopping! How are you set for cash-money American?"
"Money? Oh, it's no problem." A friend was the only thing I didn't have until about ten minutes ago."
And so they left the library and embarked on what Hermione would years later remember as the night before the rest of her life.
**********************************************************************
For almost two days Hermione sought refuge in the massive New York library. However, a cure for her romantic malaise eluded her until late in the afternoon of the second day. Due to her ability to store vast amounts of written information in her head, she had reviewed every book dealing with love relationships in the following sections:
Self-help, Biology, Marriage, Psychology, Relationships, and Women Studies.
She read a lot of books with titles like, "Women, Men & Myths," or "Men Who Love the Women They Leave." All of it seemed to be nothing more than a lot of rubbish. Although she was muggle born and bred, she was rapidly learning that they didn't have any better insight on love than Harry or Ron. This was not saying much. At one point, she even found herself wishing for the company of Professor Trelawny.
"At least she would tell me something sensational!"
She was in the process of packing up that second evening, when she noticed an attractive young man shifting from one foot to the other while trying not to look as if he was staring at her. Her guard went up immediately.
Looking directly at him, she found herself trapped in the clear, blue-eyed gaze of a rather attractive blond-haired fellow whom she had indeed noticed on several occasions. He had been remarkable to her primarily because she had noticed him staring at her before, but always with a sort of polite interest. "He has eyes like Draco's," she thought, "But without the malice they seem so much more human."
"Can I help you," she asked in a deceptively polite tone of voice.
"Uh....Hi! I've uh, been um, seeing you around the last couple of days, and I uh, couldn't help but notice the type of books you're reading, and I....Well...I was wondering if you might, well, be in the same boat as me."
"I see. What exactly are you asking, or inferring rather?"
"Well....It appears as though you've been dumped recently. Am I wrong? I mean, what dog has forced you to spend the days before Christmas in the library?"
"I beg your pardon!" demanded Hermione, now more than a little unsettled by the man's attempt at conversation. "I've no idea as to what you could possibly mean by what you just said."
"Oh Lord! I'm so awful at talking to people when I'm interested in meeting them. What I meant was.."
"Let me assure you," Hermione interrupted, "that I am not interested in you. Therefore, I have no problem in addressing you clearly and succinctly when I say, bugger off!"
"Ok...Sorry to bother you," he said turning away uncertainly.
Handling the situation assertively had made her feel strong. However, the hurt, puppy dog expression in his eyes, and the meek way he'd said "ok," was more than her caring heart could stand. She was too experienced in area of platonic friendships with needy young men to treat this one so rudely. There was something about him that was trustworthy, and she knew she could rely on her own intuition.
"I'm so sorry," she replied as she lightly touched his elbow to prevent him from walking away. "I'm not usually so rude, it's just that my parents 'never talk to strangers speech' plays ad nauseum in my head whenever I'm approached by someone when I'm alone. I'm, H...That is, my name is Susan. And you are?"
"Jordan Bradley," he replied clasping her hand in a friendly, but not overly exuberant, handshake.
This somewhat impersonal meeting of hands further confirmed in her mind the thought that he was just being friendly. It also caused her to remember that she had often noticed him flipping through books in the same sections she had been looking through since discovering them the previous day.
"What did you mean when you asked about my dog?"
A laugh burst from him before he could reply, and his friendliness was contagious. Hermione found herself smiling back at him.
"I apologize for my unorthodox conversational approach. You have an accent, so evidently we don't use the word 'dog' in the same slang terms. Lately, people have been using the word dog, also spelled d-a-w-g, as a euphemism for a naughty boy, you know, a player."
"Actually, I don't know what you mean. Although I'm from the U.K., most of my life has been spent in seclusion. I was to be a nun, you see."
The lie was incredible, but it was evidently the panacea of explanations. Jordan's eyes looked as big as saucers, but there was no disbelief in his expression. Also, it would easily explain her ignorance of muggle slang and American terminology.
"Oh my God, I'm not Catholic, but I've always wanted to hang with a nun!" he replied as if in awe. But then he naturally followed this up by asking, "So, if you're into the nun's life and all what's up with all the 'understanding the male psyche' books?"
"Allow me to enunciate. I WAS to take orders."
"Ohhhh... And now you given it all up for a man - and honey don't we all - and he's gone off with some 'ho! Girlfriend, he took everything you had and left you crying at the library didn't he?"
"Ah...Yeah! I mean, if a 'ho is what I think it is, then you are dead on correct. Although, he hasn't left me physically that is. No, wait! That sounded bad. We still live together...Platonically, of course.
So, he's seeing another woman and bringing her home to your apartment! You poor thing! Oh my Lord! We have to talk!"
"I know! Isn't it all dreadful," said Hermione easing back into the chair she'd been prepared to vacate. "He's enamored with this actress who lives across the hall. Roxana Hayes, or maybe Haynes, or some such name like that. And I can't move out because we are roommates AND coworkers.
"Wait! Let me get this straight! You used to be a nun, or were almost a nun. You didn't take orders because you fell in love with a man. And now he's left you for the Ravishing Roxana Haynes?" Honey! How do you get out of bed in the morning? You're a living tabloid story!"
"Oh! You won't tell anyone will you? I mean, I'm going to be all right. I'm very practical you know. I'm just looking for some insight that will explain why he would behave as badly as he has. I'm sure there a sensible explanation for it.
"You know, I think you and I are both looking for answers in the wrong place. We need to find our answers in the bottom of a martini glass. How about a drink?"
Well, I don't know. I hardly know you after all."
"Susie Girl, believe me when I tell you that I am as anxious to find MR. Right as you are. I mean, you're gorgeous, and I would love to help you find a lipstick - you could really use some - but I like my girlfriends to be just that. Girl - FRIENDS!"
Hermione felt wildly elated. Perhaps she was to have a holiday adventure instead of a holiday romance. A friend was just what she needed, and Jordan seemed perfect even though she'd just met him. "And a gay male muggle friend won't prose on at length about quidditch," she realized with satisfaction.
"You know what Jordan? I think you may be my surprise Christmas gift this year!" I'd love to have a drink with you, but I don't really feel like going to a bar. What I really need is someone to go shopping with me and help me pick out some new clothes. It would really give me a boost. And, I'll provide dinner and drinks at my place afterward!"
"You don't need to say another word. You need help bringing out the goddess I'm sure you are, and honey you have come to the right man. I do hair and make up for the soaps, although I'm sans work at the moment. You want to induce a few regrets into his rotten soul? Well, honey let me tell you, I've got great taste and I could shop 'til next week without stopping! How are you set for cash-money American?"
"Money? Oh, it's no problem." A friend was the only thing I didn't have until about ten minutes ago."
And so they left the library and embarked on what Hermione would years later remember as the night before the rest of her life.
