Pretty Woman

As Harry and Hermione cruised leisurely down the road an awkward silence fell on them. Harry was uncomfortable and concentrated intently on the road he hated this car and the constant grinding of the gears was not helping. Finally Hermione, getting sick of the awkward silence, said. “Nice car. Yours?”

“No,” replied Harry wincing as the car again grinded.

“Stolen?” asked Hermione innocently.

“Not exacually,” said Harry a smile playing across his face.

Hermione smiled back. “Mind if I turn on some heat?” asked Hermione shivering. Her coat wasn’t exacually the warmest thing, she mainly wore it for show or if business was slow.

“If you can figure it out be my guest.”

Hermione leaned forward and turned on the heat. I bet this man has people waiting on him hand and foot. Can’t bloody turn on the heat.

“Very good,” said Harry impressed. “You’re obviously mechanical.”

“You’re not from London huh?”

“No,” Harry swallowed, in truth he had lived in London for two years, but she was not to know that.

“What hotel you staying in?”

“Dotchester. I bet you know it” Hermione frowned, annoyed by his tone.

“Yeah, I peed in the fountain there once. Give me a break.”

Harry looked at her. The moonlight was reflecting from her hair so it gave the impression that she wore a halo, and the way her eyes looked at him made him gulp loudly. “What’s your name?”

“What do you want it to be?” said Hermione with a smirk on her face. When he didn’t answer she continued, “Hermione, my name’s Hermione.”

“You like being a hooker Hermione?”

“It pays.”

“So do day jobs.”

“Day jobs, yeah. I’ve tried them, they didn‘t work out. Turn right,” she commanded as she continued to direct him to The Ritz.

“Must be dangerous. Hooking,” continued Harry.

Hermione scoffed. “Tell me about it. London is suffering from a wacko epidemic. And who knows where half the guys I pick up have been. I mean, I use condoms. Always. And I get checked out once a month at the free clinic. Not only am I better in the sack than an amateur, I'm probably safer.

“Very good. You ought to have that printed on your business card.”

Hermione looked hurt, “If you’re making fun of me I don’t like it.”

“Sorry. If I did, I didn’t mean to.”

Hermione looked out of the window. She was a good few blocks away from Chucky and Dean now. “Okay, pull over. Let me out. I’ve got to get back to work.” Harry pulled over to the curb and stopped. “Continue on this street and you’ll hit The Ritz.”

Harry swallowed. This was his last chance to get to know her. “What do you charge for company Hermione?”

“Company would cost you … a hundred gal-pounds,” said Hermione, cursing under her breath.

“What was that?” said Harry, did she nearly say galleons?

“No-nothing,” said Hermione cursing under her breath. I can’t believe I nearly said galleons thought Hermione what an idiot! “So,” continued Hermione, “A hundred pounds.”

“For the whole night?”

“For an hour”

Harry laughed. “You’re joking right?”

“I never joke about money.”

“Neither do I,” said Harry amused. “A hundred bucks an hour though is pretty stiff.”

Hermione reached over the seat and started to slowly massage Harry’s knee. “No. But it’s getting there.”

“Hermione, how much to put up with me for the entire night?” asked Harry in a rush, if she kept massaging his knee like that he was going to be in trouble.

“You couldn’t afford it,” said Hermione as she started to get out of the car.

“Try me.”

Hermioe’s sexy smile again spread across her face. “Three hundred.”

“Done.”

“What’s your name lover?” asked Hermione as she closed the car door.

“Ha-,” Crap, think of a name!

“Ha-?” said Hermione confused.

“No, my name’s James,” said Harry with a sigh of relief. You’re supposed to be undercover you idiot!

“James… you got it!”

Harry started to get out of the car, “What are you doing?”

“Get in. This side.”

“What?”

“You know how to drive?”

Hermione grinned and moved around to the other side of the car. I’m gonna drive a Ferrari! She sang. “You better believe it.”

“Then lets go.” Hermione and Harry got into the car and put on their seatbelts. “You put the clutch on!” Hermione suddenly exclaimed as she turned the engine on and the whole car jerked forward, inches away from hitting the one in front.

“But I thought -.”

“No,” interrupted Hermione. “I never drive with the clutch on.” Hermione started the engine again and seemed to relish in the low rumble it emitted. “Here we go James.”