Traffic Makes You Delusional by SwishAndFlick31

Rating: PG13
Genres: Humor
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 4
Published: 26/01/2008
Last Updated: 26/01/2008
Status: Completed

No HHr bashing, I promise. This is me, dudes. HHr. Not really. Yes really. OC POV. Traffic makes
you delusional. Throw some Nationwide in, and a delirious Swishy, and you've got yourself a
parody! Not meant to be taken seriously. Seriously.




1. One Shot, or whatever
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**Disclaimer:** Don't own. But *man* I wish I did.

**Author's Notes:** Okay, so this was posted like a long time ago over on ff.n (where
I've got like 20 other stories just WAITING to be read—and reviewed. Uh, I never said that) and
decided that it'd be fun (*awesome!)* to post here. Don't know why, but hey, its me,
and I have ADD. Not really, maybe I'm just silly.

That rhymed… Twice over, and I didn't even realize it till now. Wow. :D

Not meant to be taken seriously. Seriously.

This a parody. Just FYI.

Enjoy!

**--------------**

May 23rd, 2004 …

**--------------**

Oh, Lord, she hated traffic. It was the worst part of the day, and that included work. Sure,
there were the exceptional `God-I-Wish-I-Could-Just-Pull-My-Hair-Out' days, but this was just
one of the days she could blast the music up and bang her head to the music, trying to forget her
horrible day.

There were various cars in front of her, behind her, next to her, *everywhere.* “So. Many.
Damn. Cars,” she muttered, looking around. But suddenly, she saw something very… interesting.
Some*one* *very interesting,* indeed. There was a man, with messy (she guessed it was the
skater style all of the good-looking men were going for now) medium length hair, the black tresses
hiding a pair of stylish (or were they round? she wondered after a second) glasses. Though she
could only see half of his face, she could already tell he was one of the best-looking blokes
she'd seen in a *long* time.

“Wow, I hope he's single,” she muttered, looking at him appreciatively. He turned, his face
towards her, though he didn't look at her. Rather, he seemed to be looking at something behind
him, grinning happily, saying something she couldn't make out. *Maybe he's just … just…
No, he doesn't have a girlfriend. He's too good for any of those slags,* she thought,
glaring at whoever the person was in the background.

“Maybe I could follow him…” She grinned. *Oh, this is going to be so much fun! Never again
will I get mad at traffic!* “Just to make sure he's… err…” She chuckled. “Oh, it doesn't
matter. I'm going to follow him!” Giggling, she put her turn signal on, hoping that she'd
be able to switch lanes so she could follow the unknown man to wherever it was he lived. *I feel
like such a stalker.* She waited for the moment she could move, finally getting the chance to
switch lanes.

Now that traffic was moving slowly, she'd finally gotten the chance to see what it was the
mysterious good-looking man was so happy about. She saw nothing. Was this man delirious? Maybe it
was a dog, she thought, but then shook her head. The little rascal would've been throwing its
head out of the window by now, not in the back seat of some expensive car. Maybe it was some kid…
*No, he's not married. Nor does he have a kid. Too hot for it, too hot for it, too hot for
it. Remember that, girl! He's too hot for everyone else except you! Oh, God. I sound really
egotistical right now.*

Maybe it had been three minutes, maybe five, maybe it'd been three days. She wasn't
sure. But one thing was sure: that man kept looking back every second he had, only looking forward
when traffic was moving. Whatever it was he was looking at, it certainly was keeping him
entertained. Or maybe annoyed. She wasn't sure. But she was hoping for annoyed.

“Oh my god,” she sighed, seeing his face *yet again.* His oh so handsome face. She could
see his handsome, pale face, with his Greek God worthy looks (and she bet he had the body to go
with it). Whoever was seeing him currently was a lucky girl. She smiled, she was going to have him
next. All hers.

Suddenly, a honk from behind her sounded, and she was suddenly reminded that she was in a car.
Moving ahead, she chuckled. *I'm so silly.*

*Oh, damn. He's with the mysterious thing again! What the hell is it? God, I need to
know!* Rolling her eyes, hoping it wasn't some sort of electronic game, she continued to
follow him.

*Ninety-nine bottles of rum on the wall…* She shook her head. She was already bored.

*The wheels on the bus go—*she shook her head again. Nope, again, she was bored.

*If you're happy and you know it, clap your hands.* She clapped. *If you're a
stalker and you know it clap your hands!* Again, a few claps. *If you're a stalker and you
know and you really want so get him, clap your hands!*

Clap. Clap.

*I think I'm on crack,* she thought, banging her head against the back seat. *So.
Bored. So. Bored. So bored. Sobored! Ohmygod I'm so bored!*

*“*UGH, DAMN TRAFFIC! MOVE!” she shouted, forgetting that her window was down.

“*WHY DON'T YOU MOVE THE TRAFFIC FOR US?!”* someone shouted.

Who was that?

She shrugged. *Doesn't matter. “*HOW CAN I? BLOODY CARS WON'T MOVE!”

“WELL THEN STOP WHINING! SOME OF US, UNLIKE YOU, HAVE HAD HORRIBLE DAYS!”

“OH, *SHUT UP!”* she shouted, still not knowing who she was shouting at.

*“*WHY DON'T YOU?!” asked the man, shouting back.

“UGH! BLOODY MOVE ALREADY!”

“DON'T SWEAR IN FRONT OF THE CHILDREN!” he shouted, this time louder.

“WHAT CHILDREN?!” she asked.

“THE CHILDREN IN TRAFFIC, EINSTEIN!”

“THEY'RE TOO YOUNG TO DRIVE!”

“THE ONES THAT ARE RIDING WITH THEIR PARENTS!” he pointed out, shouting.

“GET OUT HERE AND FIGHT ME!” she shouted, having enough. When she was younger, she was taught
that if anyone messed with her, that she should get even.

Silence.

But then she gasped. The man—*the hot man!—*in front of her, stuck his arm out of his
window, and stuck his middle finger up.

And, in a normal voice, she heard the man say, “Bloody fool, my arse.”

*Oh, God. This isn't good.* Her anger dissipating almost as quickly as it had come, she
thought, *I'm still following him. Maybe I'll get a few kids to egg his house on
Halloween.*

The mysterious man kept on moving, never switching lanes—something she was *very* grateful
for—and looking back at whatever it was in the back seat.

It'd been nearly half an hour until they finally drove a kilometre. She thought she heard
some distant cries of a child, but then dismissed it, shrugging it off. *Probably those kids he
was talking about,* she thought. *God, I don't understand these British people. Now,
people from America—yeah, that's what I'm talking about. Wait, no, can't be biased…
God, this hurts my brain.*

Wait! The man was taking an exit! Quickly turning her signal on, she switched lanes, moving her
car behind his.

Finally, they took the exit, and he took a right, and so did she.

After what seemed like three hours (but what was really one, she guessed), she finally found him
taking a right to a street. The houses around there seemed high class, something she'd have
expected doctors, lawyers, or scientists to have. Not this hot, young man.

Maybe he was visiting a friend.

Maybe.

He pulled up into a driveway, which led to a large, modern home.

*My house is going to look so bomb…* she thought, grinning. *Wait, this might not even be
his house.*

Pulling on the curb—*I wonder what Brits call it—*she took the keys out of the car, checked
her make up, scrunched her hair a bit, and got out of the car. The man was already out, opening the
back door.

“Excuse me!” she shouted, waving in his direction.

He gave little attention.

“Ex*cuse* me!” she said again, walking towards him.

Half of his body was in the car, taking something out. It took a few seconds until he fully
emerged, turning around to face her.

There was a child in his arms.

“Err, can I help you?” he asked, raising an eyebrow, absently giving his supposed child a kiss
on the top of it's head. It had to have been his; the kid's hair was black, for Pete's
sakes!

“Harry?” someone asked from the door of the large house. A skinny woman, with average height,
and bushy brown hair with brown eyes, was standing there with her eyebrow raised. “You might want
to get in here soon. Elizabeth could get cold,” she told him.

So the kid in his arms was a girl. She only hoped it was his cousin or something.

“Okay,” the man—Harry—answered. “This woman just wanted something, I suppose. I'll be inside
in a moment, love.”

She nodded and went inside the house, closing the door behind her.

Harry turned back towards her.

She stood there, speechless.

He raised an eyebrow, rocking his baby girl.

“So, uh, your sister?” she asked dumbly.

He shook his head, grinning. “Wife.” After a moment of silence, he asked, “So, you wanted
something?”

“Uh, oh yeah! I - uh, just - uh… Never mind,” she mumbled, walking away.

“You sure?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

*Oh my god,* she thought, getting back into the car. Sitting there for a few moments, she
saw Harry kiss Elizabeth again, and went into the house, not looking back.

And suddenly, she started laughing hysterically, thinking of one commercial in particular.

“Life comes at you fast.

“Nationwide, always on your side.”

**Author's Notes:** Heh. So, how many IQ points did you lose by reading it? I lost, like,
20 when I read this over. :P

Sooo… anyone wanna review/flame/not report? I happen to like the first and last one, myself, but
hey. Whatever floats your boat. And if the second and third one floats it, then watch out, cuz
I've got missals. *maniacal grin*

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