Pointless Questions?

The aroma of fresh coffee filled the spacious coffee lounge and bookstore. The country burgundy walls and many shelves of books made me feel right at home. I plopped down on one of the many large black leather chairs. I am so liking this place. I look around at all the people filing in and out. Most were wearing colorful scarves, (A current fad in England.) or long cloaks. It was mid-November and a bit chilly. I pulled my Cougar's jacket tighter around my neck before taking out my favorite book, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone. It was well worn with many lines underlined and highlighted with pictures of the actors who played the roles scattered amongst the pages. Most of which were of Sean Biggerstaff, someone I was dying to meet.  I had gotten myself tickets to the new Harry Potter premier and hoped to meet my dream guy there. I hummed softly to myself opening the book to where I left off yesterday in the same seat.  Chapter 12, the Mirror of Erised…

"Well if that isn't a used book than I don't know what is. Hope you didn't get that off the shelf." A boy who looked about my age with spiked up brown hair and blue eyes asked joining me on my left.  

He kind of looks familiar, but I just can't place him. I gave him a strange look, "No, I brought it with me. I like reading here, it's homey." He started at the many pictures hanging out of my book. "What?"

"Obsessive much?" he asked pointing to the prints.

Excuse me? "Just because I like something doesn't automatically make me obsessed does it? It's not like I'm running around in a Hogwarts' uniform." I replied defensively.

He chuckled at this. Gosh, where do I know him from? It's bugging me… "I guess not, but why do you have those pictures stuck in there?" he looks genuinely interested.

"'Cuz I like to picture a movie playing while I read. Plus I write my own fan-fics."

"Fascinating, mind if I read one?"

"I barely know you," I retorted. I think… "why would I allow you to posses one of my manuscripts?"

He shrugged. "No clue. My name's Tom." He stuck out his hand.

I took it eagerly. He's kinda cute… but where do I know him from? "Ryilee McCale."

"That's a real pretty name."

"Thanks."

"So what are you doing in England?"

"Well, I have family out here, and a ticket to the premier."

He raised an eyebrow. "And you say you're not obsessed." He teased eyes twinkling. "Those are some pretty expensive tickets."

Most of the time I would have left having a guy hitting on me in a coffee shop but I feel as if I know this guy. I have to know more about him. "No, once again, I like Harry Potter," he smirked. Now that is definitely familiar. Who the heck is this guy? My mind reeled trying to place his face. I know I've seen him before! "Actually I'm not really fond of Harry, he seems too judgmental to me. I'm more of a Fred and George, Draco, Oliver and Snape fan."

He looked bewildered. "That's an odd mix."

"Ya well; Fred and George are frickin hilarious and hott to the top and Draco's funny--"

"How's that?"

"Well he's such a coward. Hiding behind Crabbe and Goyle, but yet he's the Slytherin Sex God. It just amuses me. Plus his hair all slicked back in the first 2 movies is adorable!

He blushed. "And Snape?"

"His entire countenance sets of a pleading for affection. I must admit I do laugh at the other's misfortune, but his is different."

"How so?"

"Can't you just see him living at home with his mom and the conversation there?"

He thought for a moment with his face scrunched up. He's so cute when he thinks! No, bad Ryilee, you must not fall for a guy you don't know. He looked back at me and burst out laughing which made me laugh. "I totally envisioned it and you were right."

"Of course I am."

"What's your favorite color?"

Huh? "Green?"

The next question came out as a kindergartener, "What's your favorite animal?"

I stifled a laugh, "Don't really have one. I guess I like birds, and cats."
"Any particular ones?" This was sincere.

Why is he asking me this stuff? "Panthers, tigers, hawks, owls?"

He chuckled. "You don't seem too sure about that."

I looked him square in the eye the furrowed my brows, "What are you asking me pointless questions?"

"First off they're not pointless, they tell me a lot about you. I learnt about it in my psychology class."

Wonderful. He's analyzing me. "Do I know you from somewhere?"

"I think I would have recognized a pretty pace like yours if we had." … … … … … wow. I blinked rapidly then turned back to my book. "Wait!" he seemed desperate. I looked at him out of the corner of my eye. "Sorry, I couldn't think of anything else to say. I guess my little boy side took over." Awkward silence and staring. "Do you like Quidditch?"

That I had to smile at. "Sure your name's not Oliver and you're not the one Harry Potter obsessed?"

He laughed. "No, but some do call me Draco."

"Why's that?"
He looked a bit shocked and was about to speak when my phone went off. It was my sister Kourtnii. (Yes my parents made the weirdest spelling of our names possible. Ryilee = Riley, Kourtnii = Courtney. What can ya do?)  She was telling me to come home, well more like yelling.

"Sorry to cut this short but I've got to go." I said grabbing my stuff and getting up.

"Hold on, can't I get your number or something?" he pleaded.

I consented, feeling as thought I was supposed to see him again for some reason, purpose or other. I handed him my phone and he opened it and smirked. "What?" (My cell phone wallpaper is Draco Malfoy.) He shrugged his shoulders then put my number in his cell and visa versa. He held up both of our phones and snapped pictures. (His is one of those flashy expensive ones that speaks the name of the caller and a pic comes up. Mine is a regular el cheepo phone.) "Thanks." I took my phone from him and rushed out the door. Whoa, that's unusual, I thought running past the men in black suits.

Tom's POV

 

I watched as she walked in the store, looked around, then sat in her usual spot. She has been coming every day for the last week. It was interesting, she didn't get a drink or browse thru the books or anything. She just plopped herself down on one of the lounge chairs and read a worn book her legs hanging over the arms of it. She captivated me; she always looked so comfortable, especially for an American. I couldn’t stop staring and I wanted to talk to her. See what she was like. With all the reading she does she must have a great mind. Before I knew it I was on the chair next to her.

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Ryilee rushed out the door jacket swishing. She was gorgeous, interesting, smart, and pleasant to talk to. She was everything. I couldn't stop thinking about her, I had to call her! I just saw her, I can't do that… I got up and started pacing. Bad Idea.

"Oh my gosh!" I heard a young American girl scream. I knew it. "Is that Tom Felton?" Without looking up I backed away and moved toward my stuff. Before I knew it I was surrounded by young giggly girls. Another reason to like Ryilee, she had yet to figure out who I am, meaning she can get to know me before freaking out.