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No More Weird Guys by Viopathartic
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No More Weird Guys

Viopathartic

No More Weird Guys

Viopathartic

A/N: Read?


John Greenwald walked down the corridor of 32 Autumn Road apartment house located in London, nervously loosening his tie. He wondered if he was supposed to get this dressed. Did he tell her that it was supposed to be formal? He would rather wear jeans and a t-shirt, but the restaurant he had a reservation for was very formal.

Number 6, 7, 8...was it 9 that his date had directed him to? Greenwald checked the paper once more and saw, yes, that Hermione Granger resided behind the door of Number 9.

Greenwald took a long, deep breath and raised his knuckle to the door.

Knock, Knock.

He immediately straightened up and tried to look as if he was a confident, in control man, who was totally ready to go on a date with the beautiful and intelligent woman he met at the bookshop.

He heard footsteps shortly after his knock.

Smile and breathe.

Finally, the door opened.

"Hi, Herm-oh, er, hello." Instead of Hermione Granger, a man answered the door, staring confused at John. Then his face quickly turned to recognisation once his emerald eyes gave him a look over. "Uh, I guess I went to the wrong, um, door."

"Are you Greenwald?"

"Yes, I'm John Gree-"

"Come in," the man said briskly, turning around and leaving Greenwald dumbfounded. He nervously stepped through the threshold.

The apartment was impeccably clean. John immediately walked into the living room which was impeccable designed. In the middle of the expansive room was a fireplace and on top was a shelf. Pictures lined up but John couldn't see from the place where he was standing.

The place was probably too clean. He uneasily wondered if the man was gay...

"Sit," commanded the questionable man.

John immediately sat down onto the surprisingly comfortable couch.

"Uh, sorry for interrupting whatever you were doing, but--"

"What are your intentions with Hermione Jean Granger?"

John was amazed, "H-How do you know Hermione?"

"I'm Harry, her roommate. Hello."

"You? She never told me she had a man for a--"

Harry cut him off, making John wonder if he did this often, "I am not only her roommate but her best friend of eleven years."

"Ron, her other best friend, used to live here too. I, of course, liked it better when Ron was living here because then there would be another guy who could hit, stab, and kill the person who would hurt our Hermione next. But since he left to live with Luna, his fiancée, I'm left to do the dirty work so," Harry slapped a coaster onto the glass table, making John jump back, "So now, I'm here, with you, talking."

He then smiled. "C'mon now, mate. Drink up."

John realized Harry had offered him tea.

Was it poisoned?

With a shaking arm, John reached out to grab his cup of tea. As he lifted the rim to his lips, Harry's eyes continued to watch him like a hawk.

"Now, in the future, do you ever picture Hermione as your wife?"

John choked on his tea. He put the cup down onto its saucer, coughing fitfully. " 'scuse me?"

"You. Hermione. Mar. Ried," repeated Harry slowly as if John was slow.

"Uh, well, I never--"

"How about as the mother of your children?

"Why-I didn't think of--"

"Do you really know Hermione Granger?"

"Well, I met her in her bookshop and thought she seemed nice so I-"

"Seemed? Have you ever tried to hold an intelligent conversation with her so that you can get to know her better?"

John shook his head, "I was nervous around her...didn't-"

"You can't do that."

John stared blankly at Harry. "What?"

"Ask a random person out. It's just not done," stated Harry simply.

"So you think I should have gotten to know Hermione better?"

Harry nodded.

"But I'm a shy person."

"Then let me teach you, alright?"

Harry cleared the table, much to the confusion of John. He grabbed two pencils and pulled the coaster from underneath John's tea cup, placing it between the two writing utensils.

Harry cleared his throat and picked up one of the pencils.

In a small, squeaky voice, he said, "Hello, my name is John Greenwald. I am-"

Harry looked up and asked, "How old are you, exactly?"

"30."

The man stared at him in return. "Hello, my name is John Greenwald. I am middle-aged-"

John protested, "Now wait a minute! I'm not middle aged!"

"Quiet!" Harry barked harshly.

John quieted.

"I am middle-aged. I like blah blah blah." Then Harry dropped the "John" pencil and threw it at him.

"Now see, YOU don't matter. You're insignificant. Nothing!"

How is this supposed to help me?

Harry delicately picked up the other pencil. "Hermione is what really matters."

He started speaking in a high-pitched voice, "Hi, I'm Hermione Jean Granger. I'm 22 years old and I work as a Doctor. I like to read books. Tons and tons of books. My favorite is Hogwarts, A History."

Harry looked up and explained, "Fairy tale book."

And he went back to his "play".

"I have two best friends who would break your neck if you turned out to be a dirty pervert," and at the word 'pervert', Harry threw John a deadly glare.

"Ron is a red-haired bloke who used to live with Harry and I but found Luna and they lived happily ever after."

"And Harry is my other bestest friend. He's handsome and smart and is my hero!"

John thought this was the most bizarre situation he had ever been in.

"Harry is brilliant. He is awesome."

This guy was weird! Mad! DELUSIONAL!

"Harry knows that I have a tendency to nag but I just do it because I care. Harry likes it when I scold him because he loves to see me angry. I have bushy hair but Harry loves it that way because he said it was what defined me. I have habits but Harry thinks they are cute. Like when I read, I move my lips with the words. He knows I like to read when it rains, snows, and even when it's sunny out. I can read in every single environment. When I eat dinner, I always wipe the corners of mouth twice because I'm afraid of missing a spot. When Harry tickles me, I snort. Harry likes it when I leave me hair down. Harry loves it when I hug him on his 'off day'. Harry knows me inside out and would die for me. He knows that I would die for him."

"And then she asks you, 'what about you, John?' and then you would answer blah blah blah," Harry said casually, putting away the pencils.

"But then again...you're insignificant. You are nothing."

Finally, Harry sat back against his chair, crossing his legs.

"So, now. What are your intentions with her, John?"

Without saying a word, John got up and headed straight for the door, opening it mechanically and closing it.

Harry smiled triumphantly.

"He's a nice man," Harry said out loud to his roommate who had, of course, eavesdropped on his conversation.

"See! He asked me out and I just couldn't say no. I didn't want to hurt the man's feelings!"

"So you used me to scare away Greenwald?"

Hermione Granger came down from her bedroom dressed in her "stay at home" robes. Underneath, she wore black and green checkered pajama pants and a loose, oversized t-shirt.

"Actually...I think he thought you were weird."

Harry pretended to frown. "Then I guess I'm losing my touch."

Hermione smiled. "You won't have to do it again, I swear, Harry."

"That's right, because if I remember correctly," he walked over to her and pulled her into his arms, "you are now my girlfriend and I am now officially your boyfriend."

Hermione smiled, loving the way it felt to be in his arms. She looked over Harry's shoulder and read the clock, "...since five hours and 46 minutes ago, yes."

Harry grinned impishly, "Happiest five hours and 46 minutes of my life, by the way."

His girlfriend laughed then planted a small kiss to his lips. "That's sweet."

Harry smirked, "Thank you. Now no more weird guys, promise?"

"I promise."

And with Hermione's last statement, their lips met in one harmonious kiss.


Hopefully some people enjoyed this random one-shot. I honestly began this thing…three hours ago.

I am currently looking for people would like to write a story with me. The topic is posted under Challenges in the forums. If you're interested, go to it or my website www.viopathartic.webs.com where I posted the first chapter of the potential story.

Thanks,

Viopathartic