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The Man on a Plastic Chair by Kerryanah Black

Format: Novella
Chapters: 2
Word Count: 5,157
Status: WIP

Rating: Mature
Warnings: Strong Language, Strong Violence, Scenes of a Sexual Nature

Genres: Drama, Romance, Action/Adventure
Characters: Moody, Shacklebolt, Tonks, Percy, Narcissa, Draco, Blaise (M), Skeeter, OC, OtherCanon
Pairings: Draco/Pansy, Lucius/Narcissa, Remus/Tonks, Draco/OC, OC/OC

First Published: 08/17/2006
Last Chapter: 01/07/2007
Last Updated: 01/07/2007

Summary:




A Story of love after marriage.


Chapter 1: The Man on a Plastic Chair

AN: A story that has been in the making for months which i've just had the time to re-write onto the computer. I hope you like it as much as i've liked writing it. Reviews, though not important, would show me how much people like my stories and will help me in the tough times.



The Man on a Plastic Chair


A pretty brunette swayed tiredly at the bus stop, her soft brown eyes peered from under her amber rimmed glasses into the distance, waiting for the bus that was late, as usual. Stifling a yawn, she looks at her watch then with a shake of her head heads off down the road figuring that she would probably get there before the bus.

Now there was a spring in her step and a hidden smile on her heart shaped face, she quickly made a stop at the Newsagents, and after inquiring how the well-known owner’s elderly mother was, left with a carrier bag holding a long thin slab of something or other.

She could already see Meg’s Tea Parlour, and so far, there was no pouting fiancé mumbling about how long he had waited in the cold and how he could already feel the viruses swimming through his body. She chuckled and looked down at her carrier bag, the large slab of Cadbury’s plain milk chocolate and a small paper bag of fizzing cola bottles jostled against her leg. That’s why she had stopped at the Newsagents, knowing that since she was already 5 minutes late then at least the sweets would placate him. She arrived at the quaint, homely Café and peeped inside, just in case he was waiting there for her, but there was only an old lady reading her newspaper, a bald builder splattered in paint drinking soup and a teenage couple having a heated argument in the corner. That of course meant he was late, she thought with grin, and then settled herself outside to wait for him.

Upon sitting down her eye were immediately caught by a man sitting on another table a little in front of her. He caught her gaze for two reasons, firstly he was amazingly handsome … maybe handsome wasn’t the word, he had a sort of refined, masculine look, yet looked so well put together that it gave him a feminine air, the kind of air that only Royals and the upper class exude. Soft white blonde hair, almost luminously creamy, hung a little below the ear on a high cheek boned face that was rather thin and pointy yet fetching. Secondly, he seemed to jar quite obviously in these surroundings, he just didn’t seem to fit in. His tall, thin, bordering on lanky, body sat on the baby blue plastic chair as if it was a throne. And he wore the most strangest clothes … While many of his age, for he could only be a few years older then her 21, chose to don loose t-shirts and faded, ripped jeans, he wore well pressed black trousers with an equally well pressed white shirt. He looked like a Londoner that had gotten lost while going to work at some classy office.

The man was bent over a newspaper, his untouched multicolour mug, with a smiley face etched on it, was pushed to one side as he stared at the paper in his hands with fierce determination. Although she didn’t want to stare at him she had to admit that she couldn’t help it, he was quite striking. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it but it felt as if he didn’t belong, don’t prattle stereotypical nonsense she chided herself, after all, now, little Chippenham was quite the place to be. Its sleepy roads were pulling in more and more people that had been enchanted, not by the history that it was steeped in, but by the many shops that were opening all over the place. Not to mention the nightlife that was slowly creeping in with a few clubs scattered every here and there, though there is talk that more will be opening soon. Of course, there were a few weirdoes every now and then, like the ones that had come with their cult to visit Stonehenge wearing long purple robes, but that was something the people of Wiltshire had gotten used to over the years. It simply came with the territory. She pulled her eyes away from the man and down to her watch. Ten minutes late, first time ever, she thought smiling warmly as her fiancé once more came into mind.

They had met while studying in Grittleton College, when she was doing her First Year and he his Second, all it had took was one conversation in the library when he had shyly asked her what the weather was instead of the time. It hadn’t taken them long to realise they were made for each other. One complimented the other perfectly. Him with his golden sun kissed locks and impish charm and her with her quiet grace and never ending support. What one lacked the other would assist on, she for example was quite timid and found it hard to approach people first but his joviality put her at ease and boosted her confidence until people hardly noticed her bashfulness. And he had always been a bit lazy, not a downright bum mind you, but just a little late every now and then in handing in the assignments and not very good with the cleaning either. But she had helped with that by either harping on at him until he got it done or by refusing to spend time with him until he handed in all outstanding homework. Needless to say, that worked a treat. Theirs was a fairy tale love story, the College football player meets and falls deeply, madly and truly in love with the shy, reserved bookworm and now they were to be married, a dream come true really. What she loved most about him was his dimples, one on either cheek, and his eyes … the fairest blue eyes on God’s good Earth. She could swear to that.

15 minutes late, now she was getting a bit worried but calmed down as she realised that he must have gone to buy her flowers on the spur of the moment. Or more worryingly, a tattoo of her name on his heart like he had asked to be able to do last time, which she had denied adamantly at the thought of blood, needles, pain and ink poisoning anywhere near him. The blonde haired man had put his hand in his pocket and the wooden end of a very thick looking painting brush stuck out of it. Oh, a painter, she thought appraisingly.

“Can I buy you a drink?” she was startled to find out that it was actually she that had said that and for a few seconds could do naught but be angry with herself. God sake Edna, a cute guy walks past and you couldn’t resist could you, she chided herself yet acknowledged that it was completely against her nature, and Johnny is coming too! Her shoulders sagged a little at the thought of her sweet, loyal future husband, the one who had never cheated on her in even his thoughts and she made up her mind to send this stranger away with an apology.

But the man had already sat down opposite her and he didn’t look surprised at all at suddenly being asked to have a drink by a woman he didn’t know, in fact, his expression hadn’t changed one bit from how he looked when he was reading his paper and now was studying her with that same intense look.

“Um-” she started, wanting to tell him that asking him over was a mistake and could he please leave, putting in a lot of ’so sorry’ in-between every other word of course. Then she realised how rude that would seem, my mother certainly didn’t raise me that way, after all she had invited him over and a drink would be what he got. No matter what happened between her and Johnny, and anyway, her Johnny would understand.

Then, suddenly, as if someone had wiped a wet cloth over her troubled thoughts, her mind became delightfully clear and weightless … it was the most wonderfully disconcerting feeling in the world.

“I’ll buy you a drink,” said the man in a clear, strong voice with a posh British accent that proved he wasn’t from around here.

No, she would wait till Johnny arrived … but then again, she was thirsty … yes, her mind was telling her that ... she was really thirsty. She needed this drink. “Yes please.”

The man barely nodded but immediately a black waiter that had probably been hovering nearby swooped down on them, wearing the country cottage apron with daisies on it that Meg, the owner of the tea parlour, made all her employees wear. That’s funny, Edna thought to herself, Meg only employees women for the waitress post.

Here was another that looked quite out of place and not just because of the daisy apron. Chippenham, though it was changing a little now, was quite a white area; people of other ethnicities were rare, especially in the more rural settings. But also, this man, like the one sitting in front of her looked too well groomed to be a waiter at a little tea parlour in one of the least exciting places in all of Wiltshire. Oh so now waiters can‘t look good?, Edna frowned as she realised just how orthodox her views were, after all, who was she to judge someone she didn’t know.

“Two glasses of orange juice,” the man ordered, his clear-cut accent pronouncing all the words perfectly without any effort at all. The waiter took barely 20 seconds to deliver their order and placed their glasses in front of them carefully. Hers was pink and the man’s glass was a deep purple colour.

She didn’t want to drink it and if he had bothered to ask she would have told him that she would have preferred something warm on such a chilly Autumn day, maybe a large mug of hot chocolate or a cup of Meg’s famous tea with a bit of cinnamon flavouring. The slightly chipped glass with garishly bright pink dots sat mockingly in front of her, the sunny orange drink tempting her to take a sip. Just a sip … just take one sip … one sip.



AN: So what do you think is happening here? And where do you think the story is going? I'd love to see if i'm that predictable so come on send me those reviews. Next chapter coming as soon as i've written up the next chapter of my other novella Just a Game to Me, a Sirius/Oc story of mine. Thanks to all that have read and even more thanks to those who will leave me a review.

Love Kerry, till next time.

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