A/N: Happy BELATED Birthday to Ash-Castle! I'm only a little sorry that this is a few days late... This story was totally unexpected. I don't know what happened, since I had planned to write a short drabble. LOL.
Tumblr: Chiseplushie
Prompt - Hermione's parents never returned, and she lives with Harry. It's snowing and they are sitting by the fire drinking hot cocoa. Please include marshmallows and an accidental fire.
Featuring:
+ Post war AU
+ Fred Lives
+ Hermione & Harry BROTP
+ Draco/Harry pre-slash, probably.
PS - this is mostly unbeta'd. So ignore my typos.
The Days That Were Mine
The travel mug Harry fills with fresh coffee states, I'm A Witch Before Coffee, on the side in bold red text. Footsteps pounding down the stairs tells him that Hermione is running late for Uni. Again. Staying up late, reading until the wee morning hours is a habit of hers that he picked up over the years. Some things never change.
The kitchen timer, a cute yellow chick with an orange beak, chirps cheerfully letting Harry know the last batch of muffins need to be taken out of the oven. He transfers the kitchen towel from his shoulder to the towel rack to his right, trading it for a pair of bright red silicone oven mitts. He turns off the oven, quickly twisting the knob, then pulls the tray of muffins out, setting it on the grey granite countertop. The smell of pumpkin spice and cloves permeate the air, mingling with scents from various baked goods cooling on the counter.
He selects a apple pie muffin, and turns around with muffin and coffee in each hand just as Hermione rushes into the kitchen. He's used to his friend dashing around, and steps nimbly out of her way, then offers Hermione her breakfast.
"Did you stay up late reading again?" he asks.
"Good morning to you too." Hermione plucks the mug from him, and sticks out her tongue. She takes a careful sip of coffee before she says, "No, I didn't. I'll have you know I went to sleep before 2am. I just got caught up reading this interesting article about -"
He raises an eyebrow. "Was it class related?"
"No, I finished my assignments! Anyway, the article was -"
"Late, Hermione." Harry reminds her, waving the apple muffin at her. "I've got to open up the shop soon, too."
"Oh, right. Do you need help?" she adjusts the strap of her book bag on her shoulder. Hermione eyes the muffin in his hand and leans over the counter, snatching a pumpkin spiced muffin from the tray. Cursing, she tosses the muffin in the air a few times to try and cool it.
Harry snickers. Swearing is also another habit she picked up from him. "I've got it. You just go on. I'll see you at the shop later."
Hermione takes a huge bite out of the top of her muffin, groaning at the warmth and spices, then sighs longingly at the rest of the treats on the counter. He can tell by the way her eyes linger on the marshmallow sticks, that her parents are on her mind. He thinks she'll say something about them, but instead she says, "Alright. You've got Teddy tonight?"
"I'm headed that way after my shift, but I don't think Teddy's staying the night here. 'Dromeda said Malfoy - Draco, that is - is visiting for a few days. Since this is their first time meeting, I'm sure Teddy will probably want to spend time with him." Harry shrugs, as if someone else monopolizing his godson's time doesn't bother him. He hasn't seen or heard much from Malfoy, but it wasn't his decision to include him in Teddy's life. Andromeda was the one to reach out to Malfoy.
Harry shifts from foot to foot uncomfortably at the thought of Teddy liking someone else more than him. It's silly, Harry knows this, so he represses the urge to cross his arms around himself by drinking the last of his coffee, swallowing the bitter taste of his insecurities. He ignores the familiar look of exasperation on Hermione's face.
He waggles his eyebrows at Hermione with a mischievous grin. "Feel free to bring Fred 'round for the next few nights."
Hermione flushes. "I don't know what you're talking about, Harry. Don't worry about Teddy and Malfoy. Teddy adores you. See you later." She waves the muffin at him in good-bye, scattering crumbles on the floor, before she steps back and disapparates with a faint crack!.
Harry boxes up his baked goods with a wave of his wand, and almost forgets to bring the two salads from the cooling cabinet. The porch steps and driveway are slick with melted snowflakes, and he slides a bit during his second trip to the Jeep. Luckily, he manages to not drop the salads in his arms. It's too warm for the snow to stick just yet but temperatures are supposed to drop significantly within the next few days.
Harry doesn't mind the 30 minutes drive from their home to H & H Cafe and Books. It's muggle, and their few employees are too, so it wouldn't do for them to wonder how he travelled around without a car. On some days, he apparates to the shop to drop off the food, and then drives into town.
He's sure the snow flurries being blown about are making his hair even more unruly, but Harry gave up on taming his hair long ago. It's curling at the nape of his neck and around his ears, and he assumes his hair is standing up in every direction. Harry unlocks the shop, flicks on all the lights and disarms the burglary alarm, before taking two trips to unload the car. He takes a moment to check on the window display, deciding to leave it as is - he finds it very inviting, thank you very much.
Fairy lights and fake snowflakes blink brightly on the perimeter of the window, the display currently home to a wingback chair and ottoman set in red and gold fabric, with a fluffy knitted blanket tossed over the back, pooling against one arm rest. There's a festive mug and plate set, showing off colorful pastries on the low coffee table. A hardback book lays open on the tabletop, inviting patrons to come inside and browse the shop's collection and possibly pop upstairs for something sweet.
On the first level, squashy chairs are scattered between bookshelves and in corners, paired with mahogany end tables. There's a mahogany desk next to the staircase, where the bookshop's employees mind the till. Harry and Hermione hung garland in each door way, the counter tops and along on the handrail of the staircase. They have small light bulbs in various colors and blink at slow intervals.
Upstairs, Harry fills the glass case with his pastries, brews coffee and turns on the shop's music, before he checks the cafe tables for cleanliness. Harry takes the time to straighten magazines on the half dozen shelves, bobbing his head to Sleigh Ride as it warbles out from the speakers. There are a few tables next to the floor to ceiling windows, and Harry appreciates the lovely view outside while he cleans the glass. There's lighted garland hung on each wall and counter top by the till as well. A real fir tree stands tall in the corner, completely decorated and looking quite nice with the faux presents stacked around it.
He pads across the floor and into the kitchen, intending to have a cup of tea before the customers file in. He's pouring hot water from the kettle when he hears the sleigh bells jingle as the shop door is opened and slammed shut, then Liz's voice as she drifts up the stairs. She enters the kitchen moments later.
"Isn't too early for Christmas music?" She brushes snow from her two dark plaits, then hops to sit on the counter. Large silver hoops hang from her ears. "November's barely half gone."
"Absolutely not."
Liz accepts a cup of tea with a smile, gently swinging her legs. "You even started decorating in October! Before Halloween!" She sips her tea, then hops down from the counter when the sleigh bells jingle. "Customers are out and about early today. Is it okay if I leave half an hour early today, Harry? I've got a date." She says the last bit shyly, as she edges nearer to the kitchen doors.
His lip twitches up into a half smile. "Sure. I'm sure Hermione can handle it until Brandon gets in."
She squeals, her brown eyes sparkle with happiness. Two years ago, Harry's stomach would've settled down by his toes, Liz's bright eyes reminding him of Ginny and their failed relationship, but now Gin's happily dating Blaise and Harry is content in his complete lack of interest in women. "Thank you! You're the best."
When she's gone, Harry checks the refrigerator one more time to make sure the soups, sandwich makings and salad are where he left them. He can be absent minded sometimes. Harry finishes the last of his tea, then goes to wait next to the till for the first wave of customers looking for breakfast and hot coffee.
For a Thursday morning, it is quite busy - busier than last week, for sure. By the time there's a lull, Harry has run out of pumpkin spice muffins, both types of fruit tarts, and peanut butter cookies. He's really thankful he thought to pack away some peanut butter cookies for Teddy earlier this morning.
He quickly swaps around the items in the glass case, refilling the pastries he hasn't run out of yet, adding the lunch options, and wipes down the recently cleared tables. Harry's hiding in the kitchen, guzzling down a glass of water, when the silver call bell by the till chimes twice, signalling another waiting customer. He wipes his hands and face on a clean towel, chucks it in the dirty towel hamper inside the cabinet under the sink and walks out into the cafe. Harry knows his surprise is clear on his face, but his footsteps don't falter as he steps up to the till.
"Potter? What're you doing here?" Malfoy asks incredulously, his posh voice cracks a bit at the end.
Harry doesn't take offense; it sounds like Malfoy feels just as surprised as he does. "I work here." He replies simply.
Malfoy is wearing a heavy woolen coat, it's black and the length of fabric continues to fall below the counter. He stands casually, with his hands in his coat pockets but his shoulders are stiff. A soft grey scarf is wrapped several times around Malfoy's neck, and his hair is cropped so short the hairs don't touch his ears - which are pink from the cold. His face is as pointy as it ever was, possibly more so, Harry decides.
"This is a muggle shop," Malfoy whispers slowly, leaning forward.
"You're completely right." Harry replies just as slowly. "Do you want lunch, or did you come in to just tell me things I already knew?" He's pleased that his tone is still friendly.
Malfoy frowns at Harry and then turns his attention to the glass case.
"The beet salad is a popular item, but since it's cold out, I'd suggest one of the hearty soups. Or half soup, half sandwich or salad is an option. I'd skip the marshmallow snowmen, they're extremely sweet." He points to the marshmallows on a stick - a trio of skewered marshmallows, dipped in white chocolate and decorated with chocolate drops for eyes and colorful candy buttons.
"It seems like you're out of peanut butter cookies. Andromeda had written in one of her letters that the ones from this shop are Edward's favorite."
"Oh," Harry feels a warmth in his chest at the mention of his godson. "I have some in the back. I saved them for Teddy earlier." He gestures to the kitchen doors over his shoulder. "I was going to bring them when I stopped 'round 'Dromeda's after my shift."
"Oh." he pauses. "She didn't say you'd be there too."
"I have Teddy on Thursdays through the weekend. She takes care of him on the other days. So yeah, I'm going to spend time with Teddy tonight whether or not you're there." The look on Malfoy's face says that Andromeda neglected to share this bit of information with him. Harry goes on, "Do you want something to eat, Malfoy? There's going to be a queue behind you soon."
Malfoy studies the menu for a few moments. "One of the soups. Surprise me. And a cup of strong tea."
Harry nods, pleased with Malfoy's choices for some reason and then waves a hand at Malfoy as he draws out his wallet. "It's on the house*, Malfoy. Just have a seat by window, and I'll bring it out to you. My shift ends in an hour, we can go to 'Dromeda's together after my shift. If you want." His voice lilts in a question.
Malfoy opens his mouth to argue, but another man queues up behind him. He takes the hint when Harry waves him off again, turning to find a seat at an empty table.
The next customer flirts shamelessly with Harry before ordering an espresso and a chocolate chip cookie. Harry's used to casual flirting now, and easily side steps the banter, though the bloke is fit as hell. He leaves, and Harry rolls his eyes at the napkin left on the counter - with the man's phone number presumably scribbled on it. He bins it, and ladles clam chowder into a bowl for Malfoy, humming along to All I Want For Christmas Is You. Harry turns his attention to him, noting that Malfoy is sitting at the table Harry suggested and has shed his coat and scarf.
Malfoy is thinner under the coat than he looked, and Harry bites the inside of his cheek as he fills a teapot with hot water and adds a heavy spoonful of tea leaves. He grabs a tray, filling it with Malfoy's lunch, milk and sugar, and adds a plate of brownies and chocolate chip cookies. He glances at Malfoy again and wonders if his vague concern would be too obvious if he were to add a sandwich as well. He knows what it's like to go hungry after all.
"I'm flattered, Potter. Do you give all your customers the same quality of service?" He selects a brownie from the tray, and takes a small bite.
"If you're going to be spending time with Teddy and 'Dromeda, I know they'll treat you like family. I'm not too old for her to give me a lecture. Plus, one cup of tea isn't enough to get you through an hour."
"I didn't say I was going to wait for you, Potter."
Harry raises an eyebrow. "Okay, I'll just meet you there."
Instead of answering, Malfoy finishes off the first brownie, making a contented noise in the back of his throat. "Where did you order these from?"
"I made them." Harry answers smugly and grins at the look on Malfoy's face.
Liz appears next to Harry, prodding his arm. "Harry! I need you down in the bookshop. Bloke said he wanted to speak to the manager. Sorry for the interruption." she adds breathlessly.
He nods to Malfoy. "Duty calls."
Harry thinks he can feel Malfoy's eyes on him as he follows Liz down the stairs.
Dealing with the irritated customer is a test of patience. Not only does the man remind Harry of his uncle (which doesn't do the man any favors), he also complains for ten minutes about the bizarre way the books are organized. It's not Harry's fault the bloke didn't bother to read the signs Hermione put up. Then he waves his paper cut in Harry's face and Harry is internally giving himself a pat on the back for not rolling his eyes so hard that they fall out of his head. Harry appeases the man by giving him a coupon for 10% off his next purchase (excluding sale items and food & drink).
Harry stomps back up to the cafe, leaving Liz to finish off the last bit of her shift. His irritation fades when he sees Malfoy's tray on the counter next to the till, now empty except for the tea set. At his table, Malfoy is reading his way through a magazine.
Harry splits his time between loading the dishwasher, filling customer's orders and glancing at Malfoy as often as possible.
Between pouring cups of coffee, making sandwiches, and bagging up treats, he tells himself that Malfoy can't possibly look much different than Harry remembers. But it seems like Harry notices something new about Malfoy each time.
Harry thinks he's being covert.
He's not.
After the fourth time Malfoy catches Harry watching him, Harry gives up trying to pretend otherwise and walks over to Malfoy's table.
"Need a refill?" he asks even as he lifts the lid of the teapot to check.
"Do you oogle all your customers?"
Harry feels his neck heat in embarrassment. "I thought you would have left by now."
His eyes flit across Malfoy's face. It's the same pale, pointy face. His cheekbones are more distinct than they used to be, Harry thinks, and there's a few scars that run diagonally from cheek to jaw.
Malfoy arches an eyebrow. "You said that you wanted to leave together. I was waiting for you."
"You never agreed."
Malfoy twists his lips, and he looks away from Harry. He swallows. "Fine. I'm agreeing."
Harry doesn't know why he's being so nice to Malfoy. Not when everyone else Harry knew were owled apology letters from the git, and Harry wasn't. Merlin knows four years after the War is plenty of time for Malfoy to write him one.
He remembers the way Malfoy didn't pause when he tried to pay for lunch - the wallet, and coat are clearly muggle. Harry wonders if Wizarding shops are rejecting Malfoy's business after all this time.
"Okay." he nods, and places a hand on Malfoy's shoulder. Malfoy stiffens, but meets Harry's gaze. Harry picks up the tea set, intending to refresh the hot water and tea leaves. "Hermione will be here soon to take over. We'll leave then. "
Harry is putting away clean dishes whilst humming and tapping his sneakered foot to I'll Be Home For Christmas, which is warbling through the speakers. He's singing along with the last stanza when Hermione bustles up the stairs and through the kitchen doors like a miniature hurricane.
"Harry! I'm sorry, I'm a bit late." she says breathlessly. Harry helps put her things away. Hermione stretches on her tiptoes to look behind him, as if she didn't have a growth spurt in fourth year to spite him. "Have you seen Liz?"
"Said she had a date," Hermione gasps. "and asked if I could let her off early."
"That's fantastic. It's been ages since she's been out."
"Mhm." he hums in agreement, then fishes his keys from the pocket of his denims. "You'll be alright minding the shop on your own until Brandon gets in?"
She pockets the key ring. "Of course. Are you leaving now?"
"Malfoy and I are going to head over to 'Dromeda's. He stopped by earlier to pick up cookies for Teddy, but we ran out - luckily I saved some. 'Dromeda mentioned to him the ones from here are Teddy's favorite. He stayed for lunch. I figured why not?"
"I thought that man by the window looked like Malfoy." Hermione weaves her hair back into a tight braid, then washes her hands. "Everything all right then?"
Harry pulls on the black jumper he discarded earlier when the crowds reached their peak, then grabs Teddy's box of cookies off the counter. He shrugs to Hermione. "If I'm going to be seeing more of him, might as well try to be civil."
"It has been over four years. People can change. Just look at you, maturing more and more every day. At his rate you'll be of age soon." Hermione strides into the cafe, Harry just a few steps behind.
"Hey! I'm plenty mature." he bleats indignantly.
Hermione laughs, and continues to smile when she sees Malfoy standing on the other side of the till. He's wrapped tight in his wool coat and scarf. He nods minutely at her, as if he's unsure if the smile is meant for him.
"Malfoy. Haven't seen you around in a long time." Though she and Harry live in a muggle neighborhood, they do regularly visit the Wizarding world. Hermione manages to donate her time to a few causes, even with a shop to help run and a Uni to finish.
She doesn't pause when Malfoy holds out his hand, clasping it gently. Malfoy's lips stretch in a tight smile. He looks over his shoulder to make sure they're alone. "With my magic under restriction for five years, it seemed prudent to not show my face for a while."
Hermione nods in understanding. Malfoy was also under house arrest for the first two years of his punishment, but they don't need to mention that.
"You've been well?"
Harry bumps his shoulder to hers, hard, causing her to turn and glare at him.
"What?" she squawks. "It's a perfectly valid question."
Malfoy answers slowly, watching their interaction. "I assure you, I have been all right."
She opens her mouth to further question Malfoy, but Harry cuts her off.
"Hermione love, we've got to get going. If you start asking Malfoy questions, Merlin knows when you'll stop and then I'll be the one stuck closing up the shop." Harry rolls his eyes good-naturedly, but pulls her into a one armed hug.
Hermione is sighing as she pulls away. "Nice seeing you, Malfoy. Bye, Harry. Say hello to Teds and Andromeda for me."
Harry steps around the counter, and passes the box of cookies to Malfoy. "I will."
"Granger," Malfoy nods to Hermione, then follows Harry down the stairs and out of the shop.
"Hermione means well, but if you let her get started she'll just interrogate you for hours." Harry smiles easily as he quickens his pace. "The closest apparition point is a few blocks ahead. Do you mind if we Side Along or did you want me to give you directions?"
Malfoy hunches his shoulders against the biting cold and Harry thinks he hears him sigh. "My methods of travel were also restricted for five years, Potter. Side Along with you would be more than acceptable."
"I remember." Harry replies. "I just thought the Ministry might have lightened it by now."
The disgusted expression on Malfoy's face shows what he thinks about the Ministry. They walk in silence, passing glossy shop windows and bumping shoulders occasionally when shoppers jostle them.
"Thanks for lunch."
Harry can't help but be a bit surprised. And pleased. "You're welcome."
"It was good."
They cross the street once more. Malfoy asks, "Why are you being so nice to me?"
"I don't know. After the war, Neville taught me how to let things go. Or at least come to terms with the things I can't change.
"I've got Teddy now, and I don't want him to have the same unnecessary prejudices that we had, you know? I want him to grow up without all that as much as possible and be his own person. If 'Dromeda can give you a chance, then I can too. Not that everything between us is forgiven, mind you."
Malfoy is quiet as they turn left and queue up at the apparition point. "Feel free to owl me baked goods."
Malfoy's smile is small but it's the most open he's been all day. Harry grins back.
The clouds overhead are puffy and grey, it looks like the snow might be coming sooner than expected. Malfoy lightly grips Harry's offered arm, and with a quick turn, they're gone.
Key: * - the Asterix above is in reference to the fic, "On The House" by Ash-castle (Remus /Hermione).