Burgers with a Side of Guidance

Harry was starving. He'd been flying all day and hadn't eaten since breakfast. He dipped low and looked for a place that looked like it served food.

"Mickey's Diner" flashed at him in neon pink and blue. The name Mickey combined with the word Diner conjured up an image if a fat, balding man in an apron covered in cooking grease.

Harry swooped down, got off his broom and removed the invisibility cloak. He pulled a vial of shrinking potion from his knapsack and applied it to the broom. When the broom fit into his pack, he went into the diner and sat at the counter.

It was your typical muggle diner. It was done up to look like it was in the 1950s: there was a lot of red and black. Little Richard played over the radio. Still, it was clean and the cigarette smoke that Harry had expected was absent.

A woman in her early twenties was on the other side of the counter. Harry couldn't help but stare. She had the most intense red hair that he had ever seen, more than even the Weasley's hair which was really more orange. It was like she had taken fire engine paint and applied it to her hair. As he looked he could see dark on the underside and realized that it was dyed. Why would anyone dye their hair such an extreme colour? he wondered. She handed him a menu as she walked past him.

"Here y'are hun," she said. Her accent jarred Harry. He had gone so long without talking to anyone that he almost forgot that he was in the Deep South of the United States. Here, everyone talked like that.

Harry looked at the menu in his hands. Everything looked greasy and bad for you. He thought of Ginny in this place and almost laughed out loud.

The red haired woman was back.

"Decided yet?"

"Yes, I'll have a cheese burger, chilli fries and a large Pepsi." Hey, when in Rome, or Texas, do as they do.

In the time it had taken Harry to think that, she was back with his drink.

"Your food'll just be a couple minutes."

"No problem," Harry said.

Heavy metal music began playing from upstairs. The sound seeped down through the ceiling. It grated against Harry's patience and he vaguely thought about going up there and hexing them quiet.

The red haired woman beat him to it. She made a growling sound, rolled her eyes and stomped over to the bottom of the stairs.

She leaned her upper body into the stairwell. "BOYS! Turn that racket down!" she bellowed.

A trucker a little ways down the counter chuckled. "A little harsh there, Mickey," he said.

"Oh shut up, Ted," she said in a teasing voice.

Harry was startled. "You're Mickey?" he asked her.

She stopped and looked at him. "Yeah, I'm Mickey. What's it to you?"

"Nothing. I was just expecting..."

"Some middle aged guy with a pot belly covered in cooking oil?" she prompted. Harry laughed. "Full name's Mikayla." She held out her hand.

"Harry," he shook her hand.

"So where're you from Harry?" she asked.

"England."

"Go figure, with the accent," she laughed at herself. She tilted her head and looked at him. "You OK, hun?" she asked.

"Yeah," Harry said without much feeling. She noticed.

"You don't sound like you believe it either," she said, reading his mind. "What's up?"

She was a total stranger, why did she care? Harry looked up and saw that behind the extremely red hair, she was very pretty: fair skin and perfect doll-like features. She might be a stranger, but she was also a muggle. She had no idea who he was.

"I feel like I've been living my life by someone else's decisions. And now, that person isn't there to tell me what to do." He trailed off. "Have you ever not known what you want to do with your life?" he asked after a while.

"Sure," she laughed. "Spent two years in college doing General Arts. Nothing but a waste of time and money for me."

"You didn't like it?" he asked.

"Hated it. But my folks were determined that I went to college. I didn't want to let them down, so I went," she fixed him with a gaze that seemed to go right to his soul. "When I stopped putting other people's ideas for me over my own, I was a lot happier."

"Were your parents mad that you dropped out?"

"Yeah, they were mad all right," Mickey whistled. "There was a throw-down like I've never seen before. But I told them it's my life and my decision, not theirs. Then I did some management courses through the community college and bought this place."

"You knew right away that you wanted to own a diner?" Harry asked.

"I knew that I didn't want someone telling me what to do and when to do it. I own my own business, I'm the boss. I make my own hours and take vacation when I feel like it. And no one tells me what to do."

Harry was silent for a moment. Mickey had summed up his life, except replace college with fighting Voldemort and diner with...something. Harry wasn't sure yet. But he knew that, like Mickey, he was tired of people telling him what to do.

The cook hit a bell and put a plate on the counter "Order up!"

Mickey turned around, grabbed the plate and put it in front of Harry.

"Enjoy," she said and left to serve someone else. Harry stared at the food. The smell of it drifted up and made his stomach growl. The burger dripped with cheese and the chilli fries looked even more disgusting that he'd imagined. Perfect.

He devoured the whole thing fast and then sat back. Ooh, he'd feel that in the morning.

He waved Mickey over. "How much do I owe you?" he asked.

"Six seventy-four for the food and the therapy session is free." She grinned at his shocked face. "One condition though. You have to stop drifting through life," she said sternly. "People might have grand ideas for how you should live your life, but the most important thing is being happy. Stop letting them push you around."

Harry smiled and nodded. "Definitely," he said. "I don't think I want to open a diner, but I know I'm tired of being bossed around."

"Good."

"Do you know where there's a decent motel?" Harry asked.

"Sure, out the door, turn left then right at the first street, there's a Motel 6 on the corner."

"Thanks," Harry said.

Mickey smiled and moved off to serve someone. Harry turned to leave.

"Dr. Mickey, at it again, huh?" Harry heard Ted say.

"Shut up, Ted," Mickey said in the same tone as before. Harry laughed as he let the door swing shut behind him.

As Harry walked to the motel he was a little less stressed than before. He hadn't expected to get a life lesson from a diner, but...

He stopped on the corner and looked back. The sign flashed neon at him. He couldn't see in, but he knew that Mickey was in there, wiping counters and serving customers, living her life by her rules.

"Thanks, Mickey," he whispered.