Draco, the Latte Boy, a harry potter fanfic

Draco, the Latte Boy
or "Love in A Coffee Shop"

by SoftGray

"Oh bring me java, bring me joy!"

Hermione always took the Muggle way to work. It comforted her to walk out the door every morning, come rain or shine, in a pair of comfortable flats and a practical dress; MLE robes in the oversized bag that she had slung across her shoulder. Harry always chuckled when she recounted her morning being flushed down a toilet and she was glad they could take pleasure in the simple things that so long ago had been sullied by painful memories.

But today the umbrella had been forgotten and the rain was unforgiving so she took refuge under the bright green awning and consented to be assaulted by the pungent smell of coffee coming from the store behind her.

Hermione had always been a tea person. Earl Grey, lemon. Irish Breakfast, milk. Moroccan Mint, sugar. But as she watched the rain continue to come down and splatter the tops of her shoes, the warm and tempting Starbucks seemed like the brightest option.

With a tinkle she swung the door open and she stepped into the cramped space. There was a cluster of worn leather armchairs, a row of unforgiving wooden tabletops and the aisle was cluttered with ridiculous and colourful paraphernalia that Hermione could see herself purchasing on a silly whim.

But most striking perhaps was the barista. Tall and lean with piercing blue eyes and floppy blond hair Hermione thought he was better suited to a superhero movie or those daytime soap operas she watched while she was pregnant with Rose. And something about him seemed oddly familiar, his pointed nose and aristocratic cheekbones would seem like they would be hard to forget.

She glanced at her watch. 8:11. She'd just have to suffer the rain or face being late. At least there would be coffee involved.

"Double latte please." The barista looked up and her and Hermione swore that there was a flicker of recognition in his eyes before he smiled and wrote it deftly it on a paper cup without saying a word.

She watched him work, all steamed milk and foam, two shots of espresso. With a practiced hand he capped her drink, wrapped a cardboard sleeve around the cup and wordlessly slid it across the counter to her. Hermione appreciated a man who didn't speak when there wasn't a need to, she hated small talk. So it was with a genuine smile on her face that she accepted the drink, murmured a soft thank you and waltzed out into the rain. And within five steps she had forgotten about the silent blonde as she clutched her bag over her head and ran to work.

It had been three gloriously sunny days since Hermione had graced Starbucks, and she had nearly forgotten about the entire thing until a quick rummage in her bag for keys resulted in the coffee sleeve instead. It was a bright spring day, the type good for daydreaming, and Hermione found her mind drifting towards Blonde Barista. Before anyone could say "frappucino" she once more had appeared in front of the Starbucks.

Fearlessly she tinkled the door open and behold, Blonde Barista was there, wiping down the counter. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and Hermione stood there in a trance, watching him work, muscles flexing gently. The small line dwindled as he wordlessly took order after order, offering nothing but silence and enigmatic smiles.

8:11. No excuses, no running late.

"Double latte, please". This time the smile came easily as he recognized her from earlier and as he scrawled her order out on the cup, he offered his own gem of a greeting.

"How are you?" Hermione quickly glanced around, surely he wouldn't be talking to her. But as she looked back into his eyes, the warmth of his expression was a clear tell that he was waiting for an answer.

"Fine!" Her voice sounded squeaky, even to her ears. Ugh. But Blonde Barista broke out into a wider grin and calmly flipped the lever. Milk, steam, shot, cap, sleeve. And with the offered drink her hand all Hermione could do was hastily mumble 'thank you', and walk out as his attention turned to other customers.

Hermione chided herself as she walked out the door. Brightest witch of your age, and all you manage is 'fine'?.

8:11. Double latte. Silence.

8:11. Hermione smoothed her dress as she walked into the coffee shop. This time was different. Today she had put effort into looking put together - there was color on her lips and on her cheeks and a little more Sleekeazys in her hair than usual. She wanted to show Blonde Barista that was capable of more than a mouse like 'fine'.

Taking her place in line Hermione avoided his eyes until her turn. She'd just get nervous and muck it up and then some barista would think she was off her rocker and -

"How are you?" His voice broke her from her trance. How could she not have noticed it the first time? Like softened butter gliding on to warm rye bread. Ooh, how she longed for a bite.

"Fine, and my name's Hermione." There it was again, the broadened smile, the twinkle in his eye. How many teeth was it legal for a person to have? He sharpied her name onto the cup, perfect spelling, and as he sat it down on the counter, he softly answered, "Hey".

Hermione had never before paid so much attention to the way he made her drink. How the steam from the milk caused beads of sweat to form on his tan forearms. How he hummed in tune to the whirr of the frother. And best, the way his crisp white polo stretched as he effortlessly flipped the lever to add the espresso. Cap, sleeve. And that smile as always. As Hermione reached out to take it from him, his hand wrapped around hers and she couldn't tell whether the warmth was from the coffee or the her body temperature skyrocketing. She looked him in the eyes as he said the three words she didn't know she never wanted to hear,

"My name's Draco." And like waves at high tide crashing onto a barren beach she realized why he had been so familiar.

Malfoy. Draco Malfoy. Draco Sodding Malfoy had been making her morning coffee and she had enjoyed every minute of it.

The latte hit the floor and another customer gasped at the cavalier treatment of caffeine but Hermione didn't notice anything but Malfoy's eyes, now full of worry from seeing her reaction, as she backed out the door and ran off.

Hermione wasn't thinking about Draco Malfoy. She thought all day about not thinking about him. The white silk top and the charcoal trousers she picked out in the morning were not about him. The pounding headache from caffeine withdrawal was not about him either.

There was nothing for it. She entered the store, nose in the air, determined to ignore him. Malfoy, for his part, looked hopeful to see her back but Hermione was resolute.

"How are you?". There wasn't an answer and she fixed him with an icy stare and he held her gaze whilst making her coffee. Milk, foam, shot, cap, sleeve. And that was it.

8:11. Double latte. "How are you?". Silence.

8:11. Double latte. "How are you, Hermione?".

The scowl on her face could have won awards as she thrust her card in his face. He didn't take it.

"I'm not looking to have a conversation with my barista, just drinks. I don't care to get to know you in the twee way other people make friends with you while you serve them coffee. And lies." She had been expecting a reaction to her statement, it was practiced in the mirror that morning for maximum damage. She didn't however, expect a low chuckle as Malfoy pushed her card back at her.

"And I'm not trying to do anything but make my lattes a work of art. Keep the £3.55, this one is on me." Hermione stood shocked, but Malfoy had already turned his back to her and started the latte process. Milkfoamshotcapsleeve. Hermione grabbed the offending drink with unnecessary roughness from the counter and swept through the tinkling door trying her hardest to quell the sea of emotions that lay right under the surface.

Yes, Malfoy had every right to do whatever he wanted. He could bungee jump off of the Leaning Tower of Pisa or go skydiving or snorkeling. Whatever he wanted. But why near her? Why smack dab in the middle of something that had become a daily routine? Hermione had to remind herself that Malfoy was very much a former Death Eater and as such, harmless as a housefly, but, but.

But WHY did Draco Malfoy being a barista at her neighborhood Starbucks bug her so much?

It's because you thought he was attractive and wanted to jump his bones and you might just be a little bit in love with him, the voice in her head so unhelpfully supplied and Hermione had to shake away tears of anger because she knew it was true.

Hermione bought a coffee machine from the internet and spent the next six to seven business days chewing her fingernails waiting for it to arrive. Ron laughed at her anxiety and she would under no condition divulge to him the reason she needed it so much. When it finally came, it was the reason Hermione got up in the morning and the reason she was able to sleep at night. But it was no comparison to the carefully crafted lattes she craved.

And then after four weeks and two days, the impossible happened. The coffee machine broke. It had been a trying morning, with Rose soiling the bed and waking the house at four in the morning and Hermione nearly screeched in frustration as the dull clunk-clunk of the machine announced to the world that no coffee would be forthcoming.

So there she was. 8:11. The Starbucks was empty with the exception of a sole barista behind the counter. Shit.

Hermione approached, hoping that it wasn't him and praying simultaneously that it was.

Draco Malfoy was wiping the counter down and looked up when he heard footsteps approaching. He didn't even wait for Hermione to order before immediately moving to the espresso machine. Milk, foam, shot, shot, shot, cap, sleeve. He put it in front of her wordlessly, not even asking for payment, and picked up the rag as he resumed wiping down the counters.

"Can we talk?" Hermione gestured to one of the hard top tables and Draco nodded, moving behind the counter and draping his apron on the chair. Hermione sat across from him. He had yet to say a word, but Hermione didn't want to be the first one to talk; there was an overwhelming sea of awkwardness growing between them with every passing minute. And if she opened her mouth, she was scared that the words to come out would be "I love you, I love you, I love you".

"Why are you here? Aren't you married? Don't you have a business to run? What could Muggle London possibly do for you? How do you even know what a Starbucks is?" Hermione's questions tumbled out in a rush and she would have kept going if Draco hadn't reached into his shirt and pulled out something that made Hermione stop in her tracks.

Dangling from Malfoy's fingers on a slender golden chain was a Time-Turner. Where it came from and how it had gotten into his possession, Hermione didn't even want to know.

"I found this in the Malfoy vault after my father passed. I use it to work a shift here every morning. It's cathartic, not having any responsibilities beyond the perfect caramel macchiato. It keeps me from going completely insane and ending up in cell in Azkaban" Draco tucked the jewelry back into his shirt and fixed Hermione with an unreadable expression.

"As a member of the MLE, I'm going to try and forget that you even have that." She took a deep breath and asked the question she didn't want the answer to. "Why are you so thrilled to see me every morning?" At this Draco cracked the first smile Hermione had seen on him in a long time and chuckled softly.

"I feel as if with every latte I make and place into your hands, I'm wiping away one of the tears I put on your face when we were kids." Hermione barely had time to gasp at the tenderness of his words before he continued. "Don't get me wrong, I was as surprised as you when you first walked in here. But when I realized you didn't recognize me, I took it as an opportunity to put a smile on your face and a spring in your step." The silence between them returned, but this time there was no awkwardness. Draco kept his gaze on Hermione, and she remained in silent introspection. His motives were touching and a small part of her was relieved that his friendly gestures were borne out of apology and not out of romantic feelings towards her. But it made her the idiot, on one end of an unreciprocated crush.

"Thank you." Hermione finally choked out the words and offered Malfoy a sincere smile which he returned. "So, what do we do now? Do I get to look forward to our daily small talk while you make my latte?" Draco smirked, the familiarity of which was not lost on Hermione and for no reason, a knot formed at the bottom of her stomach.

"Well, if you were one of the girls I was normally interested in, at this point I'd ask you out for dinner and drinks...and maybe even more." Hermione tried to remain impassive as he continued. "But you're married with a family, as am I. It's probably best if we stick to the relationship that we have: pretty boy barista and besotted customer." There was definitely a smirk in his voice, but it was tinged with something else. A feeling Hermione was all too acquainted with. Regret.

"Yes, I think that's best." And for the last time the silence stretched out between them, until Hermione rose to go to work, knowing she'd get yelled at for being late. She didn't care.

8:11. Hermione stepped inside the Starbucks and her eyes immediately met those of the man working behind the counter. This was Starbucks and within these four walls, anything could happen and she could be and be with anyone. Behind the counter stood one Draco Malfoy: her barista, her boyfriend, her lover. He cupped her hands when he served her coffee and his smiles were as soft as gentle kisses. It would taste like a warm afternoon on a sun drenched beach.

"Double latte, please."

Author's Note: The title and plot reference comes from the song "Taylor the Latte Boy". Kristin Chenowith does a hilarious version of it; highly recommended. I was inspired to write a 'love in a coffee shop' type piece after reading 'Division' by MrsNoggin. If you're even a little bit into Johnlock it's a cute read! Update 5/10/15: I reworked the ending a bit due to some questions people had. Hope this version reads better!

Disclaimer: I own no part of Harry Potter.