A Redheaded Evans

Draco stood in the arrivals terminal with a suitcase in one hand and a duffel bag over one shoulder. He stared at the crowds of muggles and wondered how it had all come down to this.

"Draco! Over here!"

He turned and saw a hand waving sporadically above the crowd of heads. A few moments later a muggle girl stepped out of the mass of people. Draco recognized her from a small picture he kept in his pocket, only in the picture she was younger. He had studied the picture for hours on end and knew her image by heart, the way her silky red hair curled around her ears and her green eyes sparkled, and the way her pink mouth opened when she laughed, the way her nose wrinkled and the way the freckles danced across her nose and cheeks.

She came to stop in front of him, and they just looked at each other.

Julia stared at the boy before her. He had aged from the photo she had in her wallet, a curious picture in which he actually moved. But she'd known him as soon as he'd stepped into arrivals. His white-blond hair still feathered around his head, thick and incredibly soft, and he would run a graceful, long-fingered hand through it to keep it out of his steel-gray eyes. His face, fine-featured and aristocratic, carried its usual imperious expression, but today he looked just a little tired around the edges. He wasn't dressed in the sweeping black robes of the photo, instead in blue jeans that made his legs look long, and a neat long-sleeved white button-down shirt. But he wouldn't look as he did every day, not when his world had fallen down.

"Draco Malfoy," she said. "We meet at last."

"Indeed." He met her gaze evenly, never losing an ounce of his dignity. "You know you don't have to do this for me, Julia."

"You're my friend, Draco. Friends help each other." She held out one hand for his duffel bag; he let her take it.

"Friends wouldn't go this far for each other," Draco said as he followed her toward the terminal doors.

"Friends would go much farther." Julia paused and looked at him. "Friends would die for each other." The she turned and stared out at the massive field of cars in the bleak parking lot. "Welcome to America."

Draco followed her through the mass of parked cars until they came to a neat, dark blue vehicle with four doors. Julia had fished her keys out of her pocket, and when she pressed a button on the black key the lights on either end of the car blinked twice.

Draco remembered the day he'd first heard of this car.

Mom and Dad got me a new car, and it's only my junior year (something like fifth form). But you know how lousy the old one was anyway. It's sweet - brand new and had less than 500 miles on it when Dad picked it up. He got it a little cheaper because it has a few hail dings, but I love it. It's nicer than Mom's car, but only for a while since Dad got her a new one too. It's dark blue, and you know how blue is my favorite color. Its windows are all electronic, and even the A/C controls are electric. It has a six-CD changer...although that won't mean much to you...and even an auto-lock! I have this little black remote control on the ignition key that will unlock or lock the car from a distance. The interior is all nice leather and stuff - one day, when we finally meet, I'll take you for a spin in it.

"So, I finally get my spin in your car," he said.

Julia looked up and smiled faintly. "You remember how excited I was when I got this, huh?" She opened the back of the car - the boot in England, the trunk in America she had told him in one letter - and placed his duffel bag in it. Draco lifted his suitcase into the trunk as well, then pushed the lid shut until he heard it close with a satisfying click.

Julia slid into the driver's seat and revved the engine. Draco climbed into the passenger seat, and he noted that the positions were reversed from the motorcars in England. He buckled his seatbelt and smoothed one hand over the soft gray leather of the seat.

Julia glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, and her mouth curved up in a mischievous smile. "Do you remember hearing about how bad a driver I am?"

Draco lifted his shoulders in a careless shrug. "I spent half of my time down at the pub with Nicola, and while she did tell me you are a horrid driver, she confessed to being much worse herself, so I never worried."

Julia revved the engine and backed out of the parking spot. "I promise to get us home alive - if only just barely."

Draco lifted his chin defiantly when Julia cackled; her voice was exactly as he had imagined it despite the fact that when she had first spoken to him over the telephone she told him that some people sounded different over a phone line. However, when the tires squealed as she sped on the parking lot, he curled one hand around the edge of the seat.

Julia watched Draco out of the corner of her eye as she drove. The journey through Las Vegas had been somewhat harrowing, although more for her than for him as he didn't really understand the ramifications of her driving in a large, crowded city renowned for its rude and awful drivers. Now that they were on the freeway the journey was boring, the desert between Nevada and Utah a monotonous mass of gray and yellow sand. Draco gazed out the window, and Julia remembered that while he had traveled Europe as much as she had, he had spent his life in England, a place that was hilly and wet and green so the new scenery must have been fascinating.

Until he said, "You were brutally honest in your letters. The desert looks very boring and rather inhospitable on top of it all."

Julia smiled to herself. Over their years of being pen pals, she had come to enjoy his sharp sarcasm and wit, and had even found herself employing some of it in conversations with her friends.

"So, did Nicola attempt to tell you that you were mad when you told her that you weren't going to be her roommate after all?" Draco asked.

Julia turned her head to get a brief but real look at him. His skin was pale, but perhaps no paler than usual. But the faint blue shadows under his eyes were a testament to his exhaustion. He would never show how tired he was, though, he was too stoic for that.

"She did attempt to tell me," Julia agreed.

Draco smirked. "Of course, it ended it much spluttering and then her hands flung into the air in exasperation, I presume?"

"We know her too well." Julia reached for the radio, and Draco knew that she was going to turn on a CD. He had spent the first year of their letter-writing relationship quite clueless about muggles, and she had spent a year in equal ignorance about the wizarding world. Draco finally gave in over the summer and bought a muggle studies book and read it whenever his father wasn't putting him through the paces of being the Malfoy heir, and he mailed Julia a copy of The Muggles' Guide to Wizards and Witches (which was more of a humorous book for young witches and wizards than it was actually for muggles) and together they learnt each other's worlds.

"Is there any muggle music that you do like?" Julia asked.

Draco's exploration of the muggle world had allowed him to interact with Nicola, their mutually oblivious friend, with far less clueless moments about muggle technology. Draco had borrowed her laptop during his frequent visits to the pub where she worked over the summer and learnt to navigate the Internet, and he had also sampled the various songs she had stored on the slim silver gadget.

"I do prefer classical music myself, but Nicola's Cowboy Bebop was palatable," he said.

"I'd never have taken you for the acid jazz type." But Julia pushed a few buttons, and soft music poured into the car seemingly out of nowhere.

Draco had found Julia's address in a muggle newspaper one day when he was hiding in the pub in the village below Malfoy Manor. It was a muggle village, and its inhabitants were blissfully unaware of the brooding house that stood on the icy hills of the moors, but Draco would occasionally escape from its cold, dark halls and venture down to the pub. He had met Nicola purely through accident - she'd attempted to card him for alcohol, so he had been reduced to asking for non-alcoholic fizzy muggle drinks called 'soda' until he was of legal age, but Nicola had let him sit at the bar because he looked sad and lonely. Draco despised pity, but Nicola was an intelligent girl and Draco enjoyed talking to her - and teasing her because she was so easy to wind up. But Nicola had handed him a newspaper one day and told him to keep himself busy while she served patrons, so Draco had flipped past all the boring muggle news until he came to the personal ads. He perused through them every now and again, laughing at pathetic people who were reduced to seeking human company through a newspaper, and then he saw it. An unobtrusive, rather vague ad: "Young single female. Am bored. Write me." And the address was for someone in America, of all places. Draco had asked Nicola if people usually offered their address to strangers in the hopes of receiving letters, and Nicola had informed him that pen pals were more common than people thought, and usually the people writing each other became friends. So Draco pondered on it, then bought some envelopes, a stamp and wrote a letter to the stranger. He would later find out, after writing to Julia for six months, that Nicola had placed the ad in the paper as a joke and then promptly forgot about it, and so Draco and Julia came to some odd mutual decision not to tell Nicola about the fruition of her prank. Although both of them would hear things about each other from Nicola all the time, and would be secretly amused.

But a bit of boredom on Julia's part, some curiosity on Draco's part, and a friendship was born. Draco didn't dare tell anyone that he was writing to a muggle; after all, he was the heir of a pureblood family and spent much of his time at school acting like the stuck-up prat everyone assumed him to be and accusing people like Hermione Granger of being mudbloods, so he couldn't very well be intimate friends with a muggle, now could he? Julia said nothing about Draco to any of her friends, mostly in an effort to keep poor Nicola out of the loop, but when Draco had sent her a picture of himself for their agreed picture exchange and the image on the small, glossy paper was actually moving Nicola realized that something very odd was going on, especially when he wrote back and told her that she was pretty enough but it was disappointing that the picture didn't move.

"CD's really are fascinating," Draco said. "You muggles, for all that you have to slog through life with the inconvenience of no magic, you do put loads of effort into your entertainment. I thought it quite ridiculous when Nicola tried to explain about the different types of music."

"Well, Nicola told me about the first time you saw a movie," Nicola countered, wearing a smile. " 'Dude, it was so weird! He stared at my laptop like he'd never seen a movie before, and he would ask questions like 'So you people do still kill each other for entertainment, then?' and 'Are people in movies stronger than other people? Because I'm tough, but if I got hit over the head like that I would be a little more than slightly dazed'. I know the UK isn't that up on technology, but I guess in some small towns people are really deprived.'"

Draco shrugged nonchalantly, not in the least bit offended. "I am tougher than most people."

Julia just laughed. "You really are a Malfoy, aren't you?"

Draco's eyes darkened slightly, but his expression never changed. "Something like that."

Julia bit her lip. She remembered when she had received that frantically-written letter two months ago. She still had it in her wallet on the odd chance that someone would go through her things, but she practically knew it off by heart.

Draco's beautiful penmanship was shaky, and there were inkblots all over the parchment as if he had been writing too quickly to bother letting the lines above dry.

Julia-

Sorry that this letter is so late in coming and lacks my usual brilliant witticisms - sometimes even I, the supreme emperor of all things witty and sarcastic, need a day off. My father has been convicted and sent to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies, and mother is stepping up to take his place in The Service. She wanted me to move down to London with her so she could take up residence in the old Black Manor, but I told her no. I told her that I had no desire whatsoever to serve her master - after all, he's not the most handsome chap, and I'm not all that interested in world domination - and she was angry, to say the least. The long and the short of it is this: she has disowned me and promised me sixty days' head start while she makes the move to London, and if I haven't vanished from the face of England by the time she is finished then she will send some of father's old associates to handle my situation for me. She snapped my wand and then Disapparated, so I'm down here at the pub with Nicola. I packed up all my muggle clothes, all of my books, some parchment, my quill, my ink and all my money. I've decided that the best thing I can do is disappear into the muggle world. I will be here for the next three weeks if you need to find me, and after that I will write when I can.

Sarcastically yours,

Draco

Draco had hidden at the pub. He'd explained to Nicola that his father had been sent to prison and that his mother blamed him for everything, and she had taken pity on him and let him stay at the pub. As long as he cleaned up after hours she let him sleep on the sofa in the back room and she fed him whatever food they had left over. Draco hadn't realized how difficult muggle life was, but he worked hard at night and studied during the day, anything to keep his mind off of his predicament. His father would face another trial with possible execution, and should Lucius die Draco would legally be the lord of the manor, but his mother would step up and handle all legal affairs until he turned nineteen. Draco doubted that his mother would let his father be executed, and even if she failed he doubted that she would turn any of the Malfoy estate over to Draco. Draco didn't care anymore. He had only graduated from Hogwarts a month and a half prior, and nothing he had learnt there would help him survive in the non-wizarding world.

He needed to get out of England and find some sort of gainful employment. He contemplated heading to France; it was only just across the Channel and he could speak French with a startling degree of fluency. He was also his father's son, and Lucius had made sure that his son was lacking in none of the skills necessary to a Malfoy in the service of the Dark Lord. Draco knew as much dark magic as a fully trained Death Eater, and he also knew all the defense against the dark arts that he never learnt in school. Draco had also mastered the medical magic to counter his fencing skills. Most of all, Draco had mastered all of this magic wandless. Wandless magic was a skill few could use, but Draco had been taught young. But the Ministry in every country would be able to detect an unregistered wizard doing magic, so that skill was essentially useless. But if Draco were desperate, he could take care of himself. After all, despite his mother's madness and his father's impending execution, he was still a Malfoy.

Draco had been surprised when, only a week and a half later, Julia had replied.

Draco,

I'm so sorry to hear what happened. I have a plan. It's an extreme plan, but I think it will serve us both, and you will vanish quite suddenly from the wizarding world. It's my second year of college, and Dad is bugging Mom to make me be independent and stop paying for all of my stuff - beyond tuition, of course, since I got a scholarship. I warn you now, this plan is absolutely nuts. But it can be done. Go home and get all your legal documents - your birth certificate, citizenship papers, graduation diploma, stuff like that, and apply for a British passport. Then send a letter, through the American Embassy, saying that you would like a visa to live and work in America, and that you may in the future apply for American citizenship. To get you through more quickly, tell them that you're engaged to an American girl, me, and that we will marry as soon as you arrive. Although, we can just get married on paper if you like. Bear with me - I know this sounds crazy - but this'll work for both of us. You've told me before that no one knows that you know your way around the muggle world. They'll never look for you in America. If you come over here and we're legally married, you can get a job and work - and I'll help out, of course - and I can transfer all my insurance and stuff over to your name so my Dad leaves my Mom alone about me being financially independent, and if you stick with it for three years you can become an American citizen and no one from your old life will ever find you. Except maybe Nicola. I know it sounds mad, but think about it. It'll work. We're friends, and I think we can adjust to living together in a small house. It's a college town, so you can have friends your age. Draco, you're my best friend and I'm worried. Write back soon.

Julia

Draco had stared at the letter for a few moments, his face actually going paler than usual. But she was right, it was a brilliant plan, and even though they had never met each other in person they were good friends, honest in their letters to each other. So he had replied. A few days later, via very expensive first class mail, Draco had received the marriage forms. He filled them out and sent them back, along with a copy of his birth certificate that he had retrieved from the house (along with the other documents Julia had told him to find). Then, with some help from Nicola who was still very worried about him, he sent a letter to the American Embassy, and sent off for a passport from London. He wondered if Julia had done something on her end, because he received his passport and affirmation from the American Embassy much more quickly than Nicola had said it would.

As soon as Draco could, he said good-bye to Nicola, thanked her for all she had done for him and set off for the nearest airport, which was unfortunately down in Birmingham. He'd left her a single gold galleon, as gold was more precious to muggles than to wizards and witches. He had felt quite lost wandering through the large airport. It took the last of his muggle money to purchase the cheapest ticket possible to America, but he managed to hire an owl to America to send Julia the flight information before being herded onto a giant metal thing and being strapped down to a chair for eight hours of utter boredom.

"As soon as we get up to Cedar City I'll take you to the clerk's office and get you all checked in with immigration and the INS and all that, and then we'll get you a job," Julia said. She kept glancing at Draco, but he just nodded calmly. Julia knew that he would never give in and never show emotions. She had read in his letters over the years how he had to maintain a most horrible image in public and that it was a little difficult being so lonely at school, but he was a Malfoy and Malfoys behaved a certain way in public.

I don't actually have as much house pride or pureblood pride as people think. Such petty bigotries are stupid and pointless. I am not as childish or spiteful as I appear, either, but none of my school acquaintances need to know that. I am an arrogant snob, however. I am a Malfoy. If I cannot take pride in who and what I am, then I have nothing. Loneliness is nothing as long as I am in control of my situation as much as is possible. Perhaps Hermione Granger is quite intelligent, but she will never know that the student only half a point below her marks every year is me. My father knows that knowledge is power, and so I study just as hard as she does - of course, most of my study takes place over the summer. In truth, I am not half as sporty or good-looking as people think. I am studious in such a manner that most people are bored to tears in my presence, but I am a Malfoy, and cruel enough to make people cry for my own amusement.

"Is your father pleased now that you've become independent?" Draco asked.

"As pleased as he can be - until he finds out that I've just switched my dependence to another man." Julia smiled. "But yes, he's satisfied, and now Mom isn't so stressed out."

Draco smirked faintly. "When your father finally meets me, he will be stupefied that his daughter managed to find so wonderful a man."

Julia eyed him up and down. "Well, he won't appreciate that you're a 'blond twit', or that you're so thin. But I suppose you being a Brit like he is will earn you a few good points in his book."

"I suppose my dashing good looks will appeal more to your mother then."

"Hardly. If you couldn't tell from me, Mom has a weakness for redheads. She'd be after one of the Weasley brothers first."

Draco raised his eyebrows in what looked like an imperiously skeptical expression, but Julia knew him well enough to be able to read the laughter that bubbled just beneath the surface. "A Weasley? Perhaps your mother doesn't have such good taste in men after all."

"Saying something like that certainly will not ingratiate you to my father," Julia informed him.

And then Draco smiled. A wide, genuine smile that was as sweet as his smirk was sharp. Julia wished that she had a camera just then.

"I suppose you're right." Then the smile faded, and he said, "What are you going to tell your friends?"

"That I'm moving into the dorms because I can't stand my ex-boyfriend hanging around all the time and being a jerk, and I've moved into an apartment with a roommate who's always at work whenever they come over," Julia said. "Nicola still doesn't know that we know each other, and she's going to be in town." She sighed. "I don't want you to feel like I'm ashamed of you or something - "

"I understand," Draco said. "If the wizarding world decides to try and find me in the muggle world, it will be even more difficult if not very many muggles know me."

"You really are a Malfoy."

Draco arched an eyebrow. "You said that before, but last time you meant something different."

"You're a Malfoy. Stoic and cold and practical and driven to success even if it causes you pain." Julia smiled, a little sadly. "I wouldn't have you any other way, Draco."

He gazed at her for a moment, searching her dark green eyes. "I wouldn't have you any other way either, Julia." He could feel it tugging in his chest, sharp and bright and exquisitely painful - but she couldn't see it in his eyes. "Then again, I couldn't really tell you what a Evans is like, except for the red hair, but that could get you mistaken for a Weasley, so - "

"Draco!" Julia swatted his arm, and he laughed, forcing the look to vanish from his eyes. "Just for that..." She reached out and pressed a button on the radio, and loud music suddenly blared from all around.

Draco lifted his chin defiantly and sniffed in contempt. Nicola had tried to convince him of the therapeutic power of metal rock, but Draco had never been converted and disliked the mangled noise. Julia just laughed again and turned it louder, singing along.