Prologue – May 2005
D.P.O.V
Scrapping chairs and dinging bells faded into general chatter and baristas yelling orders and names. Why he insisted coming here, I'll never understand; far too many muggles. But, it was the only place – here or wizarding world – I could find a piping hot peppermint Jack coco though. Little miracles I suppose. If I had to be honest though, I couldn't say I hated the place. It was nice, cozy. Warm fall orange painted the walls, blending nicely with cherry wood floors and cream table tops. Every Sunday, he and I would meet here, pick the same small corner booth and talk for hours on end, hands folded together on the table.
The summer we got together and every year since we came here. For us, it was a place of peace. No monsters or reporters or Howlers; just us, hot peppermint Jack coco, Irish cream coffee and friendly faces. It never mattered what was going on in our lives – be it chasing down a wendigo through Washington woods or burning some bitch's bones – we still came together. And today, with a small black box, I hoped to keep him forever.