AN: Thank you for all the support! It is very deeply appreciated!
The words "Bronze Fonz" could have meant anything. Perhaps it was the name of an old manufacturing district, or a famous wizard who'd helped found an enclave of Milwaukee. It wouldn't have surprised him if bronze Fonz referred to a player on the Packers. Whatever the Bronze Fonz was, it was something dignified and worthy of respect.
What he did not expect was a bronze statue located near the river in the heart of downtown Milwaukee, looking every bit like a bizarre throwback to the 1950's.
Severus did his best not to gawk at the statue. It was a bronze cast of a man in a black coat, which would have been leather had it been in person. Its bronze jeans were painted blue, but the shoes retained their original color. It held up two thumbs as it smiled, as if it was saying the words, "hey!"
What would these muggles think of next?
"Okay," Hermione glanced around. "Beecher's Corners is right across the street."
He took his eyes off the statute and glanced behind him. In bright green letters were the word Beecher's Corners. The image of a brown Dachshund holding a beer pintwas plastered on the top, its tongue sticking out in anticipation of the first sip.
"The Bronze Fonz Bank should be two buildings east, on the second floor."
"Two buildings east?"
"Yes, the map said it's across the Milwaukee River," she craned her neck forward. "It should be the one with the sign 'BMO Bank.' The Bronze Fonz Bank is on the second floor."
A Wizarding bank in the same place as a muggle one. There was wisdom in that. Nobody would think twice of people going up the stairs to exchange money, nor would they ask questions about the vaults upstairs. There were clear benefits to having wizards run the banks instead of goblins.
"Anyway," she stood up straighter. "Does my hair look presentable?"
"It looks perfect," he ran his fingers through it, eliminating one stray tangle, no doubt caused by that window which refused to shut.
"The dress isn't too much?"
"No, if you want to be a bank teller, you must look the part. This dress certainly makes you look professional." He didn't dare tell her that purple dress was making his mouth water and his heart race. Then again, she could make anything appear beautiful. How had he gotten so lucky to have her in his life?
"Okay, and you look perfect as well," she said, interrupting his thoughts.
"You do not think a light gray dress shirt is too much?"
"No, and if it is, we can buy you a new wardrobe, one with more t-shirts, or other casual clothes."
"Fine, so long as I do not look like a dunderhead when we are through."
"Don't worry about that. You could wear almost anything without appearing to be a dunderhead."
"Almost anything?"
She nodded.
"Do I want to know what I'd have to wear to look like a dunderhead?" He raised an eyebrow.
"An old women's lingerie." She smirked. "You looked quite ridiculous in that."
"Indeed," he scowled. It was mortifying enough to hear Lupin's description of the event. To know Hermione had seen it was enough to make him want to sink in the Milwaukee River.
"Anyway," she patted his chest. "I'll enter the bar when I get done. If not, meet me here."
"Agreed, and if I am not in the bar or at this statue, get in the car and do not give me another thought," his expression was more serious.
"No." She shook her head. "I'll find you, even if I have to tear up the entire state of Wisconsin to do so."
"I mean it," his voice was low. "If you cannot find me either here or at the bar, get in that car and drive away. Find a way to live amongst the muggles, clear your name, and forget you ever knew me."
"That won't happen. I'm going to find you and save you from whoever would be fool enough to capture you."
"Hermione, think of yourself for once. Protect yourself and live life without me."
"I am thinking of myself. I need you in my life because I've grown fond of you. If I can't find you here or in the bar, I will tear up Wisconsin trying to find you."
"You are a foolish Gryffindor of a woman." He shook his head. "But I suppose that is why I feel such an affection for you. You are the one person who has been a friend to me, even to her own detriment."
"Don't you forget it." She grinned.
He continued to gaze into her eyes. If Hermione didn't stop seeing the best in him, she was going to make him do something rash, like ask her to make their pretend marriage real. God help him if he proposed after a long night at work. Neville's boggart would look downright respectable compared to the way he would appear if he got on his knees after having one too many beers and proposing to her.
"Kiss for luck?" She asked.
Her returned to the moment. "You never have to ask twice."
She gave him a small peck on the cheek. "Go knock them dead with your charming personality."
"I fear that will be more likely for you than me."
"Yes," She sold on her tiptoes and pressed her cheek up to him.
"You want me to give you a kiss?" He asked.
She shrugged. "I could use a little luck."
"Well then." He never knew he could give a kiss on the cheek so tenderly or with so much desire. No matter what happened, he wanted her to know that there was one man who truly loved her, and would die rather than make her cry.
She gave him a small smile before waving at him and making her way to the BMO building. He kept his eyes on her until she entered. Then, he crossed the street into Beecher's Corners, the sensation of her kiss still lingering on his cheek, as well as that of his lips on her cheek
Had cigarette smoke not clouded the air, he would have taken a deep breath. Instead, he suppressed a coughing fit. Despite the smoky atmosphere, the bar was kept in nice order, or at least nicer than the ones Tobias had frequented. Then again, that was a low standard. All the bar needed to do was sweep their wooden floors and ensure glass shards were not littering the tables to be nicer than those places.
"Can I help you with something?"
"Indeed." He stepped towards the bar. Only one patron sat at a chipped green barstool, nursing a half glass of beer as brown as Hermione's eyes. A few patrons were scattered around the tables, muttering to each other, a few taking an occasional smoke from their cigarette, others a bite of their French fries, or sipping their cocktails. "I heard you were hiring a bartender."
"I am." The man behind the counter set down the clear glass he'd been wiping. Severus couldn't help but notice it was clean, another point in this bar's favor.
"Great, who do I need to speak with about the position?"
"Me." The man extended his hand. "The name's Lorenzo Smith, but you can refer to me as 'Lucky.'"
"Please to meet you, Lucky." He took the other man's hand. It was a firm handshake without being crushing, a point in the manager's favor. "I am Stephen Whittaker."
"So you are," Lucky released his hand. "You don't sound like you're from around here."
"No, I am from Britain." Severus hoped the other would not ask for an elaboration.
"What's a man from Britain doing in a joint like this?" The lone patron asked.
"I recently moved here because I became espoused to a woman who wants to move to the States. Her family does not approve of me because I am significantly older than her, and I am too poor to provide her with the lavish lifestyle other suitors could. So, we're moving to Milwaukee to avoid the meddling in-laws."
"Well she couldn't have picked a nicer place to relocate," the patron replied. "I've been here for fifty years, and loved every minute of it."
"So you have," Severus couldn't help but take note of the gray haired man's accent. Was it Australian? If so, he wondered if he'd be any help in convincing Hermione's parents to give her a chance after their memories were restored.
"So Robert," Lucky had a gleam in his eyes Severus didn't trust. "Do you want to help me with this interview?"
"You allow patrons to conduct interviews?" Severus asked.
"Conduct is a strong word, but we do allow them to participate," Lucky said. "At Beecher's Corners, we're a family. Robert's been coming here for thirty years."
"Every day from noon to seven," Robert said.
"Yes, any bartender is going to have to deal with him, for better or worse."
"For better of course."
"I've seen worse than you anyway," Severus said.
"Oh?" Robert asked.
"Yes, you are upright and not singing off-key to some pop song. That makes you a better patron than many of the bar patrons I was forced to interact with."
Robert burst out laughing. "You're a straightforward one. I like that."
"You would," Lucky opened a small door, allowing Severus to enter the bar area. "Robert here is going to imitate the kinds of customers you'll be interacting with. In return, he'll get a couple of free drinks."
Severus gave them a small nod as Robert's eyes lit up.
"Now, introduce yourself to him," Lucky began.
"Hello, what can I get you today?" Even when Severus attempted to sound pleasant, he came off as gruff. He hoped that wouldn't be held against him, not with so much at stake.
"I'll take a butterbeer," Robert said.
"What kind?" Severus' heart slowed. Please let there be more than one brand. He'd always had something harder than a butterbeer. Truth be told, he couldn't stand the stuff. It was too sweet for his taste, so he didn't know if there was only one type of butterbeer.
"Make it a Sprecher's."
"Right." Severus turned around. Bottles lined the walls. Some were Firewhiskey, others bourbon, gin, vodka, and anything else one could imagine.
"Well, don't you know where the Sprecher's is?" Robert demanded.
"I have been here for approximately ten minutes. Forgive me if I have not memorized the location of every bottle," Severus gritted his teeth. Be kind, be kind.
"Don't you hire good help around here?" Robert answered.
"I try," Lucky said.
"Perhaps you should try harder."
"Or perhaps you could try less hard to imitate a rude customer, and not gripe," Severus snapped.
"Feisty," Robert's lips curled up. "I like that in a bartender, one who talks back."
"You would, wouldn't you," Severus muttered before he found a bottle which said, Sprecher's. It appeared to be a butterbeer. Please let it be a butterbeer.
"C'mon I'm thirsty. I've been walking down the river for a half hour, and I'm parched."
"It might be in your best interest to bring a water bottle on your next hike." Severus grabbed a glass.
"Why would I do that when I can have a butterbeer form my favorite establishment?"
"Because you are intelligent enough to plan ahead. Surely it would save you money not to enter a bar parched."
"Have you seen the price of bottled watered lately? The butterbeer is far cheaper than a Dasani."
"They have different brands of bottled water?" He cocked his head.
"Yes, and each new one is more exotic and more expensive than the older ones."
"So they are." He filled the glass and gave it to him.
Robert took a sip and nodded. "Not bad. Then again, anyone can make a butterbeer with just the right amount of head. No, what I want is a lit jack o'lantern."
"You want to go trick or treating?" Severus asked.
"No," Robert huffed. "A lit jack o'lantern is the speciality drink, and I expect it in two minutes."
"You want me to make you a specialty drink in two minutes even though I've never heard of it before?" Don't curse at him. Whatever you do don't call him the biggest dunderhead you've met in Milwaukee...
"Relax," Lucky cut in. "It's just Firewhiskey, bourbon, and Orange Crush, easy enough to make."
"What is the ratio of the drinks?"
"Smart," Lucky grinned. "Most people try to make the drink without asking."
Please let that be a genuine compliment and not a setup for saying I don't have the job.
"It's one shot Firewhiskey, two shots bourbon, and a dash of Orange Crush. It's shaken, then stirred."
Severus bit his tongue. Was Robert trying to get drunk, or set himself on fire with that amount of alcohol?
"Yeah, they're my favorite kind of drink, so I'd appreciate one sooner rather than later." Robert cut in.
"Yes, your highness," Severus grumbled.
"Excuse me?" Robert cupped his ear and leaned closer to Severus.
"I said, 'right away, oh most valued customer.'" He knew his smile was contorted, but couldn't bring himself to care.
"Ooh, I'm valued now." Robert seemed to take more pride in that than he should. How strong was that beer he was drinking? "I feel so special."
"Indeed, you are quite special," Severus fought to keep from growling.
"I like you." Robert leaned closer. "You know how to make a patron feel special."
Severus bit back the urge to tell him how his intelligence was on par with a first year Gryffindor.
"Please don't feed Robert's ego," Lucky began as Severus making the drink. "It's big enough without a bartender being too kind to him."
"It does seem rather large," Severus admitted.
"And here I thought we were friends," Robert put his arms over his chest.
"I do not tend to consider people I've just met to be friends, at least not dear friends." Severus picked up the bourbon and firewhiskey.
Lucky cleared his throat.
"But given that we are family I suppose I am forced to feel some sort of affection for you," he said with a forced smile.
"Oh you'll come to like me, don't worry," Robert said.
That was doubtful, but Severus knew better than to say anything.
"So tell me," Lucky began, "do you have any experience being a bartender?"
"No."
"Why become a bartender then? Surely there are other jobs you can take."
"What other jobs are there for squibs who want to stay connected to the Wizarding World?"
"Not many," Robert admitted.
"Hence my problem," Severus searched for the bar for the orange Crush. He was coming up empty.
"The orange Crush is here," Lucky strolled over and grabbed a hose with buttons on top. Severus examined them. One said Coke, another Sprite, another Dr. Pepper, others a few soda brands he'd never heard of, and at the bottom, Orange Crush. He pressed it and filled the drink.
"Looks good," Lucky noted as the drink turned orange.
"Indeed." Severus continued making the drink.
"Stephen!"
The men looked at the doorway and watched Hermione entered. She opened her mouth to say something, but erupted into a coughing fit before she could utter a syllable.
"Lucinda," Severus thrust the drink into Robert's hand and rushed over to her. Then, he put a hand on her back and began rubbing it.
"Hey, don't touch the other patrons," Lucky snapped. "You'll get us sued."
"I'm sorry," Hermione gasped. "I didn't expect it to be so smoky in here."
"It's fine." He led her to the barstool, still massaging her back. "You're doing just fine.
"Well now, who do we have here?" Robert picked up his drink.
"You cannot touch the female patrons," Lucky retorted. "That is rule number 1 here! All patrons feel respected."
"It's okay. I'm not a patron, I'm his wife." She sputtered. "He can touch me anytime he wants."
Severus' heart warmed as he rubbed her back.
"I see," Lucky said. "I apologize then."
"You're fine," Hermione wheezed. "I appreciate the concern."
"Still in the honeymoon phase I see."
They turned to Robert.
"Sorry about the smoke. If you need to I can get you a potion which makes inhaling it more tolerable," Robert couldn't hide his sympathy.
"I'll be fine." She took a deep breath before sitting up straighter. "I just wanted to tell Stephen I got the job as a bank teller."
"You did?"
"Yes," she cheered. "The interview was easy, especially the conversion portion. It's easy to convert dollars to galleons given that one galleon is worth three dollars. I can multiply by three quite easily."
"I could not be happier or more proud of you." He clasped her hands.
"Congratulate your husband, he passed the bartending test," Lucky returned to his station behind the bar. "When can you start?"
"As soon as possible," Severus answered.
"Come here tomorrow at noon. You can take care of Robert and the enormous ego you've given him."
"You managed to stoke someone's ego?" Hermione twisted her lips.
"He sure did." Robert glanced at her hand before frowning. "You two are married, correct?"
"Yes," he said.
"Then where's the ring?"
"It's being resized," Severus said.
"Ah," Robert replied.
"Ring or no ring, we're finally making progress," Hermione squeezed his hand. "We're going to be where we need to be soon."
"Indeed we will be," he said, wishing he could feel her soft hands in his for all eternity.
Yes, the Bronze Fonz is an actual statute. It's one of Milwaukee's most interesting claims to fame.