Written for Round 9 of Season 2 of the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition as Beater 1 for the Falmouth Falcons.

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, the pub, or the restaurants (all of which do exist...I kind of borrowed their names). I also do not own the song from which I got the title. I am not making money from this.

Prompts: (2) bustling, (10) "The secret of happiness is not doing what one loves, but loving what one does" – J.M. Barrie, (11) Annoyed

Word Count: ~2,700

A/N: I gave up playing the Sims for this :cries: Also, the title is from the song with the same name by Coeur de Pirate. It apparently means Far From Here. I know not one lick of French, but I adore her voice so there ya go.

.x.x.

Draco scowled as he shoved his way past what could have been the entirety of London shoved into a broom closet. He hated this place on Friday nights, but Potter insisted on meeting here after work, and Draco hadn't yet found it within himself to refuse. Draco pushed his way towards the back of the pub where maybe there'd still be a seat available.

"Draco!" Draco spun around and pursed his lips. Potter waved at him from a table he'd just passed, but might as well have been across the Atlantic with the crowd between them. He pushed his way back the way he came towards a table far too good to be true.

"How in hell did you get here before me?" Draco demanded when he reached Potter. He slid into the seat across from Potter and glared at him. Potter didn't look apologetic at all. In fact, the bastard was grinning at Draco, as if seeing Draco this distressed was amusing to him. Which of course, it probably was, making Draco feel twenty kinds of stupid for hoping that maybe this was more than just a friendly drink.

"Milly closes shop on Fridays," Potter said and Draco shuddered. He swore he was never going to get used to Potter calling Millicent Bulstrode Milly. Or just plain seeing them get along.

"Right," Draco said. They sat in an awkward silence. He should have gotten a drink first, he realized. Now if we wanted anything, he'd have to fight his way through the crowd—again.

"So," Potter said, tentative, as if he were as nervous as Draco was. "Err, what kind of drink do you want? I can get them. Doesn't look like you'd fancy going through that crowd again," he continued, laughing a little.

Draco almost smiled. Almost. But he was still annoyed at Potter so he just gave the man his order and waited for him to come back.

.x.x.

Harry tapped his foot as he waited his turn. Part of him still couldn't believe Draco had said yes, that he had actually shown up.

When his turn finally came, he gave the bartender their order and table number and pushed his way back towards Draco. Obviously asking him to the Pear Tree, the local pub, wasn't his most brilliant idea.

Draco was still scowling when Harry got back to the table. Except this scowl seemed to be directed at someone in particular off to Harry's right. He turned to see what it could have been but didn't see anything out of the ordinary.

"Has someone offended you more than I have?" he asked as he sat down.

"No one's more offensive to society than you, Potter," Draco responded, almost automatically, then sighed. "And it's your fault, anyway."

"My fault? How so?"

"Wanker keeps leaving your coffee cups all over my shop. Thinks he can come in and leave his crap wherever the hell he wants. Like no one needs to clean up after his shit," Draco said, fuming.

Harry turned again to see if he could make out anyone familiar but it seemed like half the pub's patrons have been by his little shop.

"I'm sorry?" he said as he turned back around to face Draco.

Draco scoffed. "As if that's your fault. He's been doing it way before you got here."

Harry bit his lip and smiled.

"I'm not expecting him to change anytime soon, either," Draco continued.

"You've been here a while haven't you?" Harry asked, leaning forward slightly as he settled in.

Draco blinked at him in what seemed like surprise. "Er…yes. Since Edna still ran the book shop," he said.

"How did you end up working at a book store? I've been wondering…" Harry said.

"It…It sort of just happened. Edna's one of those women who thinks the entire world is their grandchild. Gave me a job and rented me the flat above it. I mean it's not what I thought I'd be doing, but there weren't many choices for me after…after Hogwarts." Draco was looking at the table now.

Harry was about to say something when a server came with their drinks.

"Do you…do you like it?" Harry asked after she left.

"The shop?" Draco asked. Harry nodded. "It's…I didn't at first. Hated it. Hated depending on a Muggle, you know? But I couldn't go home and face my parents, face the Manor. And staying on Blaise's couch forever wasn't really an option. But then, it's hard to hate Edna and her enthusiasm, even if she did give me a headache most days."

Harry laughed. "Sounds a bit like Molly…er…Mrs. Weasley," he said.

Draco scoffed. "I've seen Mrs. Weasley and she is in no way grandmotherly. She's a she-devil."

"Hey!" Harry said.

"I mean that in the best possible way, of course," Draco said, waving his hand, dismissing Harry's protests.

And Harry couldn't really stay upset because he knew exactly what Draco meant. Molly was a force to be reckoned with. Fierce and protective and as fiery as her flaming red hair.

Draco started talking about the book shop's previous owner, Edna. He knew the woman lived in town somewhere, but Harry had yet to meet her. She was apparently visiting her son in London.

By the time their food came, their topic of conversation had shifted to their actual shops.

"The Muggles seem to have this new electronic book contraption. As if that would ever replace actual paper bound books," Draco said and Harry nodded. "I will never understand Muggles and their thinking."

"Even though you now work with them?" Harry asked.

"Even more so now that I do," Draco said. He started talking about dealing with Muggle suppliers. Harry listened and nodded and groaned at all the appropriate times, but couldn't help but sigh internally. It wasn't that he didn't care—he was interested—but this wasn't what he'd had in mind. Actually, this was more akin to going drinking with Ron than anything.

Milly was going to laugh at him tomorrow. He just knew it.

.x.x.

Draco laughed as Potter threw a rag at Millicent as she came out from behind the counter to sit with him. Millicent, it seemed, was also laughing at the git. At least she was happy here.

"Draco," she said.

"Millicent." He looked over at Potter who was scowling at them behind the counter and asked, "Is it safe?"

"What?" she said. Draco nodded at Potter and Millicent laughed. "He's just being surly. He's fine. Besides, it's not like the Great Harry Potter's going to murder me in my sleep. He needs me."

Draco felt a pang of what was definitely not jealousy because Draco couldn't possibly be jealous of Millicent Bulstrode, not ever. He took a sip of the coffee he'd ordered before sitting down to hide the frown. Because that was definitely not Millicent's fault and he couldn't have her getting the wrong idea.

"So how was your date?" she asked him and Draco blinked, bemused.

"Date?" he asked.

"Yes, date. With Harry. Friday night?" she said. And Draco nearly choked. He didn't even have coffee to blame it on since he hadn't been drinking it at the time.

"There was…that wasn't a date!" Draco hissed, eyes darting to Potter to make sure he hadn't heard anything. The git was smiling—quite charmingly—at the pretty girl at the front of the queue, making Draco scowl.

"Of course it was!" Millicent said.

"No it wasn't. Dates take place in romantic settings. Like a nice, private dinner. And usually end with a kiss. Or a shag. This had neither. And I would like to think I would know if it were a date," Draco said.

Millicent stared at him. "You're expecting what? A candlelit dinner? From Harry? I'm sorry, Draco, but are you sure we're thinking of the same person, because I don't think Harry has a romantic bone in his body. Like none."

"Why do think I would even want to date Potter?" Draco hissed, glancing again at the counter to make sure Potter's attention still wasn't on them. Their eyes met for a second and Draco looked away. What was that? Did Potter hear? Or was that some sort of coincidence? Or—Draco looked again and noticed the pretty girl sitting at the table right in front of theirs. Had Potter been looking at her maybe?

"Draco, your attraction to Harry is pretty obvious, you know. Not that Harry has noticed. He's a bit dense, that one," Millicent said. Then she sighed. "Ask him out to a restaurant, then, if you want a romantic date. Or to your flat and you could make him dinner. He seems the type to go for that sort of thing."

He was about to tell her to shove it because Potter couldn't possibly want to go on a date with him—like he couldn't have possibly wanted to be friends, a little voice whispered somewhere in the back of his head—when the girl got up and approached the counter again, all smiles.

Draco scowled, and yeah, maybe he should listen to Millicent just this once.

.x.x.

Harry bit his lip as he waited. He'd already ordered their food and drinks since Draco never ordered anything different and it beat waiting forever later once the crowd came. Somehow, that first-date-gone-horribly wrong became some sort of weekly occurrence, and Harry didn't know whether he should be happy that he got to spend more time with Draco or frustrated that their relationship just wasn't progressing anywhere. Maybe he should listen to Milly and ask Draco to The George for dinner instead of trying to get anywhere from these pub visits, but Harry didn't think attempting a fancy dinner was going to do him any favors, not when he the only thing he knew about fancy dinners were that these things called oyster forks apparently existed. And it would have to be a fancy dinner by the way Milly talked about it.

He waved Draco over when he finally showed up. He wasn't sure, but he thought he saw a ghost of a smile before a scowl replaced it as Draco pushed through the bustling crowd to reach their table.

"Potter," he said, swiping hair away from his eyes, and Harry could only stare.

"Draco," Harry said. "I've already ordered…"

Draco raised an eyebrow, and Harry shrugged. "Well, thank god. I'm famished," Draco said, an almost smile there. Harry just grinned at him.

It was scary how routine it all was.

"So how did you get into the coffee business?" Draco asked him between bites of the chips they were sharing.

"Er…hard to say. I just didn't want to stay in London anymore, I guess. Talked to someone who knew someone who knew Gerald who sold me his shop. Don't really know shit about coffee, though, which is why Milly is a godsend. I don't know what I'd do without her." If it weren't for Milly, he'd probably have never lasted this long. Running into her working at some random Muggle coffee shop chain had been a complete accident, and it hadn't taken much to tempt her away from that job.

"What? Being an Auror not exciting enough for you?" Draco asked. Harry sighed. A lot of people have asked him this. A lot of people just couldn't understand why Harry would quit his dream job, and it was very much his dream job.

"It's not like that," he said. "I loved being an Auror. It's all I've ever wanted. But I didn't like all the attention—" Draco scoffed at that, and Harry rolled his eyes "—surprising as that may be to you. I just wanted a quiet, private life. My breakup with Ginny was sort of the last straw, you know. They took it and made it into something tragic and horrible, and I just couldn't take it anymore, so I sort of packed up and left to stay with my cousin for a bit."

"That Muggle one?" Draco asked, and Harry nodded. "Don't you miss it, thought? Being an Auror."

Harry shrugged. "Sometimes. But I've learned to love coffee. Though, uh, not necessarily drinking it. But I'm happy here, regardless."

Draco nodded, then—to Harry's surprise—smiled. And it was nice, even if Draco only wanted to just be friends.

.x.x.

Draco wondered briefly if maybe Millicent had been right and that maybe Potter did perhaps like him. And it wasn't just with how easily Potter had shared that with him. They've come a long way from their school days.

Draco took a deep breath. Maybe he should just go and ask Potter instead of trying to wait for Potter to do it.

"So, er…Potter," Draco said, "instead of going for drinks next Friday, would you…er…would you maybe want to get dinner? At The Candlesticks. I mean, it's not The George, but it's still—"

"You mean as friends?" Potter interrupted, and Draco frowned.

"No, I mean as a date, dammit," Draco said. Maybe Millicent had been wrong. "You know what? Never—"

"NO!" Potter shouted.

"No?" Draco's face fell. He tried to pull it together but he knew he wasn't doing a very good job. Still, Potter didn't have to reject him so vehemently.

"No! I mean, er, yes. I mean. Sure, we could go. To The Candlesticks. On a d-date," Potter said, stumbling over the last word. Potter bit his lip, a nervous habit, Draco realized. He blinked for a second and tried to fight the sudden burst of happiness threatening to spill out.

Draco smiled, then laughed. He was glad to see that Potter was doing the same.

"Wanker," Draco said, "Couldn't have just asked me out like a normal person. Had to make me make the first move." Draco surreptitiously kicked Potter under the table.

"But…" Potter started, looking surprised, "But I did."

Draco scoffed.

"I, er, asked you out for drinks?" Potter said it as if it were a question. And Draco stared at him. Because apparently Millicent had been right about this too.

"Wait. You mean these were all dates?" Draco said, incredulous.

"Yes?" Potter said.

"Then why aren't we shagging?" Draco demanded.

"Er, I'm not really sure," Potter said, looking a little sheepish.

Draco shook his head and stood up.

"Wait! Where are you going?" Potter asked.

Draco glanced back at Potter but didn't stop. "To pay the bill," he said.

"Why?"

"So that we can make up for lost time. I mean, we could have been at it for a month, a least," he said. Draco paid the bartender, then made his way back to Potter.

Potter was staring at him, a questioning look. He wasn't smiling, but he wasn't frowning either.

"Er, we don't…I mean, if you don't want to, we don't have to," Draco said.

Potter frowned then. "Is that all this is? A shag?"

And Draco looked at him aghast. "Wanker! If all I wanted was a shag, I wouldn't have wasted two goddamn months trying to get to know you better. I'd have grabbed the next available bloke and…" Draco trailed off, looking at Potter.

Potter was still frowning. "Well, that's comforting, I guess," he said. "But, er, I don't think jumping into bed right now is a good idea. I mean, according to you, we haven't even had our first date yet."

Which Draco couldn't really argue. Not that it'd been entirely Draco's fault. None of them had felt like dates.

"Maybe just coffee, then?" Draco said. "There's this great little shop next to mines that's got a great selection."

Potter smiled at that. "Shouldn't they be closed by now?"

"Don't worry. I'm great friends with the owner. I'm sure he'll let us in."

.x.x.

A/N Cont?: One last thing. The idea I had for this was a whole lot larger at the beginning but due to word limit restraints for the competition, this was the version that appeared. It is whole and complete as it is, but maybe one day I'll do a rewrite. For now, I am quite happy with this. This was supposed to be one of those Coffee shop!fics...though, uh, not an AU, but yeah...not much coffeeing goes on here...