New Beginnings

Lost in Translation

Draco trudged up the steps into the hostel. Loosening his tie, he dropped his jacket onto the reception floor. He sank into the sofa, staring up at the peeling paint on the ceiling.

'Still no luck?' The receptionist, Jim, clucked his tongue. He brought Draco a cup of coffee and the newspaper.

Draco shook his head. He had been in New York for three long weeks. He spent each day handing out applications, only to be met with polite rejection or outright hostility. It seemed the Malfoy's infamy was far-reaching.

'A letter arrived for you today,' Jim handed Draco an envelope.

Dear Mr Malfoy,

Thank you for your application for the vacancy at J.K. Selwyn & co.

Draco sighed, he had received so many letters that began this way. At least it was better than cold silence.

We would like to invite you to an interview.

He sat up suddenly, staring at the paper.

Please report to the reception on Thursday at 3pm. Bring all relevant documentation with you, including proof of your right to work.

Kind regards,

Mrs J.K. Selwyn

'I got an interview!' Draco gasped.

'Good for you!'

Draco opened the newspaper to the adverts. Finding an apartment was another challenge.

WANTED!
Tenant for a 2-bed apartment in Brooklyn. 12-month contract. One tenant already in residence.
Coo for more details.

'What does this mean, "coo for more details"?'

'Coo, y'know, send 'em a p-mail! Rednecks still use owls but the no-majs notice 'em round here.'

'Riiiight...How do I send a...p-mail?' Not for the first time, Draco wished he had an American-English dictionary.

'Walk four blocks east, hang a right, then it's two more blocks up on your left. Can't miss it.'

'Right...thanks, Jim!'

*****

The directions led to a door with envelopes etched into frosted glass panes.  Muggles walking past seemed to not notice, their eyes sliding from the deli on one side to the post office on the other.

Draco stepped into a dim room. His senses were assaulted by the sight, smell and sound of hundreds of pigeons.

'P-mail!' he whispered, staring around at the grey birds, softly cooing on their perches.

'Hi there! How can I help ya?' A young witch smiled at him over the counter.

'Yes, I'd like to send two letters, please?'

'Where they headed?'

Oh, um, one second...' Draco pulled the addresses out of his pocket.  'One to J.K. Selwyn & co., in Brooklyn Heights...and another to Wizarding Realtors in Downtown Brooklyn, please.'

'How heavy are the letters?'

'Not very, just a sheet of parchment each.  Would it be ok if I just wrote them?'

The witch gestured at the desk.  Sweeping feathers and bird seed aside, Draco wrote a few lines and handed the pages to her. She weighed them on brass scales.

'Half a dragot, please.'

Draco pressed the money into her palm and she tied each letter to a pigeon's leg.  With a gentle coo, the pigeons soared out of the open window.