Drarry One Shots

Accents

AU: human.

Important information for the story: Draco, is American, and Harry, is British. therefor, accents, are as expected for their homes. That's kinda how the whole thing works for this one...hence the title.

~~~

Lucious Malfoy stood on a platform, arrogant smirk plastered on his aristocratic face. He answered questions of the reporters left and right, the sunglasses on his face shielding his eyes from the blinding flashes of the cameras.

His wife, Narcissa Malfoy nee Black, stood a little behind and to the left of her husband. Sunglasses were also on her face, but, unlike her husband, she stayed silent.

Draco Malfoy, son of Lucious Malfoy and Narcissa Malfoy, nee Black, next in line to take on the Malfoy family business, stood directly next to his father. Like the rest of his family he wore sunglasses, which protected his gray eyes, (identical to his fathers but a little lighter) from the harsh, constant flash of the cameras. 

His focus, unlike his parents, was not on the reporters, but the iPhone in his hand. With said device, he texted his best friend, Blaise, complaining about the press conference he was currently in, which his parents made him go to, saying it was his duty to do so, since he would be taking over the business in just a year, when he turned twenty one. He just wished he hadn't had to go on a plane to do so. He hated planes, and leaving his home in LA. Though, the place they were in, the name of being New York, was not bad. He just missed his pool.

The Malfoy's were all alike; all with the palest, bleach blonde hair -though Narcissa had some brown in hers- and stony faced. They lacked emotion of all kind besides cocky and douchy. They didn't have another setting. Those were the rumors, anyway.

Draco Malfoy was a cardboard cut out of his father, though his hair was much shorter then his fathers longer-then-shoulder-length hair. His touched his ears, but did not go past. His hair was slicked back smoothly, though he preferred it messy. When he told his mother this, she had stated that 'messy hair was not Malfoy-like', as though he cared.

Suddenly, Narcissa got a migraine. Which wasn't rare, but it wasn't usual. She tried to get her husbands attention, without moving to much or making to much noise, but alas, he didn't notice her.

~~~

Harry Potter, a raven-haired, green-eyed man had been dragged to a company conference meeting by his best friend, Hermione Granger, who was interested in getting a job, for it would look outstanding on her record of she got a job at the Malfoy Law Firm. Despite what she had already done in Britain before she moved to New York to get away.

Harry had no wish to go to such a meeting, but he was visiting Hermione, who lived in New York, from Britain, and Hermione had said that just because he planed a surprise visit did not mean she was going to miss out on this to hang out with him.

When he had told her he was fine with waiting a few hours in her modest apartment while she went to the meeting, she had said that she was not missing time with him, for he would only be here for a week because he had to get back to his job -animal keeper- soon. Unless they suddenly told him they didn't need him, which while possible, was highly unlikely, for he was the second best at his job, only being second to one Charlie Weasley. The man was a painful reminder, but most days Harry found himself thanking the man for it. It kept him grounded, steady, sane.

So, he had been dragged along to the meeting.

He was in said meeting now. He sat in a chair next to the chair Hermione previously occupied. Though now, she was standing in front of it, hand in the air, waiting for Malfoy senior to notice her so she could ask one of the million questions swirling around in her head.