Author's Note – just a funny little thing I wrote one day. Never assume that slang is the same from one place to the next…Disclaimer – If you recognize it, I don't own it.

Standing at the entrance to the small clothing store, Hermione craned her neck to look at the tall buildings that surrounded her. She was used to London, but this was amazing!

"Bloody hell!"

She turned swiftly to find Harry staring at a rack of clothing.

"Harry, what?"

He pointed to the rack. Looking at it, she could see it contained a selection of small colorful dresses - meant for a little girl. She frowned, glancing at him, back to the dresses, and back to her friend.

"Harry, why did you ask for these?"

"I didn't, Hermione! I asked to look at some jumpers, and the sales woman brought these out."

She blinked. Her lips quivered. Biting her lower lip, she turned to stare at the rack, attempting to avoid his eyes.

He sighed. His hands twitched. Rubbing his forehead with his right hand, he reached out with his left to touch her arm.

"All right, what did I do this time?"

Taking a deep breath, and still suppressing laughter, she shrugged.

"Well, those are jumpers – for Americans. If you want to look at our type of jumpers, you need to ask to see some men's sweaters."

He groaned.

"First it was the lift – they offer to call me a taxi before they realize I'm looking for an . . . elevator. Then I get the strange look from that salesman when I was looking for an . . . eraser. Why can't these people speak properly?"

She giggled. He flushed, the deep red reaching his hairline.

"Like I knew it meant something different in New York!"

"Well, you did ask him for a rubber."