Everything\'s Free in America

Update 10/05/05: As per the new rules, I\'m adding a disclaimer here.
Disclaimer: Pursuant to copyright law, I acknowledge that I own none of the characters, concepts, or other related material in Harry Potter. I make no money from the writing of fan fiction based on the property of others.

***Note: this story is told in a particularly interesting narrative style called Third Person Limited. Unlike normal 3rd person, the disembodied narrator only knows what\'s going on in one character\'s head and must look at the actions/words of others. The POV in the story shifts from one chapter to the next, back and forth, Draco-Hermione-Draco-Hermione.***

Draco Malfoy seated himself in the bar uneasily. It was full of Muggles, and Americans at that. The bartender asked him what he wanted.

“Oh, I’ll have a beer,” he said, surprised.

“What brand?” the barkeep asked. “We got Sam Adams, we got Bud and Bud Light, and we got Miller, all on tap. Anything else and it’s bottled.”

“I’m sorry, I’m not familiar with American beers,” Draco said, feeling as though everyone were staring at him. “Which do you prefer?”

The bartender laughed. “Personally, I’d take a Guinness over any of ‘em. But if you wants an American beer, I’ll bring you a Sam Adams.”

Draco fidgeted nervously until his beer arrived; he downed most of it in a single gulp. Where on earth was Nott? He was fifteen minutes late. Did Draco have the right bar? After three beers, Draco’s nerves had calmed. Nott was probably still chatting up that girl at the museum. Draco scanned the room. The women were all dressed in blue jeans. America took some getting used to, he thought.

“I’ll have another,” he told the bartender, pushing his empty mug toward the Muggle. It would be his last, he decided; he still had to find his way back to his hotel without getting lost or mugged.

“You have a charming accent.”

He turned. A very attractive woman had seated herself beside him at the bar. “I’ll have a whiskey sour, Mike,” she said.

“On my tab,” Draco said impulsively. The bartender nodded.

“So, you’re from England, I’m guessing?” she asked.

“Why yes,” Draco said. She smiled very prettily. He suddenly felt in his element. Women were the same all over the world. And outside of England, the accent did what his handsome features and free spending could not. “I’m guessing that you are a local?”

“Oh, yeah,” she said, turning away demurely. Draco’s brows quirked. “So what brings you here?”

“I’m on vacation with some old school friends,” he told her. “Seeing all that the Colonies have to offer.” The bartender set down her drink and she took a sip.

“Do people really still call them The Colonies?” she asked.

“Only in jest.” He offered his hand. “I’m Draco.”

“Melanie.” She had a firm grip. “That’s an interesting name, Draco.”

“In my family there is a tradition of giving children Latin names.”

Soon he forgot all about trying to get into Melanie’s pants; she was fascinating. He bought her another drink and sipped at an ice water while she told him all about the sights he should see while he was in town. Finally she apologized and said she had to leave.

“It was good talking to you, Draco,” she said.

“A real pleasure, Melanie.” He kissed her hand. She pulled her keys out of her pocket and wished Mike a good night. “Drive safely,” Draco said.

His phone buzzed. They’d bought the ridiculous Muggle toys upon their arr in in America; no one used owls here. “Malfoy,” he answered.

“Draco, it’s me,” Nott said. “Sorry to leave you hanging, mate, but I think I’m going to score with this girl, you see. She’s in the lav right now…if you’d like, I can find out if she has a friend for you.”

“That’s perfectly all right, Nott. I’ll see you tomorrow morning. Have fun.” He flipped the phone closed and paid his check.

New York was the largest Muggle city on this continent. While Nott was getting his rocks off with that American girl with the annoying laugh, Draco decided he should check out some of the night life.

He stumbled off the dance floor at one of the clubs, dripping with sweat, and made his way toward the bar. “Can I have a Coke?” he asked. The bartender handed him the drink and he pressed it to his forehead.

Draco sat on the edge of the barstool and sipped his soft drink.

“So you want to teach?” the girl next to him shouted over the music. He startled.

“For a few years, yeah,” her companion said loudly. Draco chuckled. Of course they weren’t talking to him. “The Headmaster said that Professor Binns has decided to stop teaching, so the History position will be open.”

Draco shook his head. Had he heard right? The other girl had a decidedly British accent…and she had just mentioned Binns. Draco stared hard at the back of her head, but it offered no clues. Long, straight brown hair.

“So when are you going back to England?” the first girl shouted.

“Well, Ron and Harry want to catch a Yankees game, so we have to stay a few more days for that. Maybe a week.”

Draco’s mouth fell open.

“You’re so lucky, Hermione. Two British hunks to escort you around. We’re all so jealous.”

He couldn’t contain himself any longer. He finished his Coke and stood. “Granger?” he asked.

The girl turned, mid-sentence, and her eyes widened. “Malfoy!” she said, shocked.

Her friend smirked. “Another friend of yours? He’s cute.” Granger glared at her and whirled back to Draco.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“I’m on vacation,” he said.

Granger’s friend pushed her out of the way. “Hi,” she said. “I’m Hermione’s cousin, Jessica. Nice to meet you.”

“Draco Malfoy,” he said. She offered her hand and he kissed her knuckles. Granger’s eyes shot daggers. Jessica giggled.

“I’ve heard all about you,” Jessica said. She turned to her cousin. “He doesn’t look slimy to me,” she said, not realizing he could still hear her. “In fact he’s kinda hot.” Draco smirked, and he thought Granger’s head might explode. “Do you want to come with us?” Jessica asked. “We were going to get out of here and go to Waffle House.”

“Why certainly, Jessica,” he purred.

As they exited the club, Granger dragged him to the side. Her cousin continued on, unaware. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she hissed.

“Taking your very attractive cousin up on her offer,” he said, smiling facetiously. “Come along, Hermione, she’s getting ahead of us.”

“Malfoy, I swear to god,” she muttered, as he turned away from her and walked briskly to catch up to Jessica. Draco put his hand on the American girl’s elbow, and she turned to look at him.

“So, Draco, you went to school with Hermione?” Jessica asked. “I’ll bet you know all sorts of juicy stories.”

“Why yes, actually…”

When they entered the Waffle House it was shockingly cool inside. Draco looked around at the predominantly yellow décor.

“What is this place?” he asked, sotto voce, in Granger’s ear.

“A twenty-four hour eatery,” she murmured. “They serve breakfast all day long.”

“Curious.”

They sat down in a booth, Jessica sliding in beside Draco. “You don’t mind me being on the outside, do you?” she asked. “I’m left-handed, and I’m sure you wouldn’t want my elbow in your plate.”

Draco scanned the menu. The waitress was chewing gum noisily as she took the girls’ orders. “I’ll have the steak and eggs,” he said uncertainly.

“How’d you like that cooked, kid?”

Kid. Indeed. Draco smiled politely. “Rare, please. Scrambled eggs.”

“And to drink?”

“Coffee.”

Jessica leaned over. “So, Draco, where are you staying?” she asked brightly.

“The Ritz-Carlton,” he told her. Granger’s brows knit.

“Oh really? That’s where Hermione and her friends are staying too!”

Draco smirked at Granger. “I wouldn’t have thought Weasley could afford that.”

“He and Harry are sharing a room. Hermione gets her own, down the hall…I told her she could have a party in there and the boys wouldn’t even know it!” Jessica giggled. Draco raised an eyebrow; Granger blushed.

Their beverages arrived and Draco pulled his coffee toward him.

“I’ve got this theory, Draco,” Jessica said, sipping her iced tea. “About how someone takes their coffee, and what that says about their personality. How do you like yours?”

He picked up the sugar and poured some into his cup. “Black as night and sweet as sin,” he drawled, swirling the spoon slowly through the dark liquid. Jessica giggled again.

“He’s clever,” she told Granger. Her cousin rolled her eyes.

“Malfoy could charm the skin off a snake, Jessica.”

“So could Potter, if he put his talents to use,” Draco murmured. Granger’s eyes flashed.

“Muggle!” she hissed. Draco had the decency to look sheepish.

“So, after this, do you guys want to go back to your hotel for a few drinks? I’m taking a cab home anyway, and Dad gave me plenty of cash to entertain my cousin in the big city.”

“Certainly.”

“No.”

The two magical folk spoke simultaneously. Jessica smiled, and before anyone could say anything else the food arrived. Draco held Granger’s gaze even as the waitress leaned into and out of their line of vision, a deliciously evil smirk twisting his lips.

They let Jessica dominate the conversation; it was rather easy to do, as Granger was used to her constant prattle and Draco had one of those gossipy, nattering mothers. He’d learned to follow his father’s example and take a section of the Daily Prophet after dinner, doing his best to look like it was of the utmost importance that he read uninterrupted. Draco’s steak was not as bloody as he liked it, but it was a much larger portion than he was used to. That was one thing to be said for Americans; they certainly didn’t starve you. Draco had gained four pounds since arriving in New York.

It had grown cooler outside, Draco noted, as they got inside the cab. Granger sat as far from him as she could, while Jessica curled up almost uncomfortably close to his side. When they arrived at the hotel Jessica led them merrily up to the bar and bought a round of drinks. One round turned into two, and then into three, and so on. Draco was laughing at some silly thing Jessica said when Granger glanced at her watch.

“Didn’t you have to be home by two?” she asked.

“Oh, shit,” Jessica giggled. “I should go. I’ll see you around, Hermione. It was really nice meeting you, Draco.” She put her hand on his shoulder. “Enjoy your vacation.”

The young witch and wizard regarded each other for a moment, and Draco downed his scotch and soda.

“An interesting girl. With a lot to talk about.”

“It’s getting her to shut up that’s the trouble.” Granger laughed. “I tell you who she reminds me of…”

“Pansy Parkinson.”

Granger’s eyes widened slightly. “How’d you know I was going to say that?” she asked.

“I dated her, remember? And that’s a thing I won’t soon forget, let me tell you.”

They laughed. Draco looked at Granger; her cheeks were slightly pinked and her teeth showed when she smiled.

“So what possessed you to come to America?” she asked, sipping her drink.

“Nott talked me into it.”

Granger nodded. “I see. And where is he?”

“Upstairs in his room, with a girl he picked up at the Metropolitan Museum of Art.”

“The accent, right?”

Draco chuckled. “That was part of it, yeah.” He looked at her oddly. “So your cousin doesn’t know you’re a witch?”

Granger shook her head. Her hair, which had been straightened masterfully, swung gently against her shoulders with the motion. Draco found himself momentarily entranced. Then he shook himself out of it. Damn the alcohol. She was actually starting to seem pretty and charming. “I didn’t think she could deal with it. She’s not the pestpest tool in the shed.”

“Oh? Didn’t she mention that she was at university?”

The young witch snorted. “Jessica’s at college to pick up some trustafarian who’ll shower her with gifts and buy her a Mercedes.”

Draco smirked. “Does she like rich English boys?” he asked.

“Don’t you dare.”

“I wouldn’t. I’ve already got one constant gossip at home; I don’t need another.”