A/N - Because this coffee shop trope is just too delicious. This little bit of nonsense is directly inspired by Meanwhile, a delightful tumblr drabble by provocative-envy. Also, go read Aca-demic Arrangements by dulce de leche go and Housemates by Colubrina, if you like this trope. Both are Tomione and nonmagical!AUs. They are so odd and absolutely magnificent.
Please review if you reach the end of this fic—I've been out of the fanfiction writing game for a while and admittedly need some encouragement and feedback! I am also in need of a good, patient beta. If you are interested in the position, please check out my profile, my other fics, and let's talk.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. J.K. Rowling is queen.
WHIPPED
By Gueneviere
com·pul·sion - a strong, usually irresistible impulse to perform an act, especially one that is irrational or contrary to one's will
x
Celestina Warbeck's sleep-inducing tones importuned his eardrums with yet another breathy song about young love as Draco impatiently queued at The Dauphin for his morning drink. For all that the establishment's owner was the squib son of the so-called Singer Sorceress herself, Draco felt that the non-stop advertisement of the witch's latest albums had to be some sort of sublimated Oedipus complex.
Never mind that a 78-year-old, thrice-married woman singing about "the youthful stirrings" of her "nether magicks" was downright disturbing.
A twitchy-looking fellow who did not the triple-shot ristretto he was ordering paid up and Draco inched closer to the front of the line at last.
It was unseemly for a Malfoy to be wasting his valuable time in such an establishment, but there was nothing to be done. Warbeck had somehow gotten away with lacing his products with a powerful Compulsion Potion, which had reduced Malfoy heir to purchasing a daily fix like a common Knockturn Alley junkie.
Fortunately, his mother had to despair at her only son's frequenting a plebeian coffee shop from the confines of house arrest.
The bell chimed behind him, and a brunette swept past him at a decisive pace, making her way to the cashier while stuffing a sleek, rectangular contraption into her briefcase. To his unmitigated horror, the barista seemed to be expecting this and placed a steaming drink in the witch's carefully manicured hand almost instantly.
Draco was already three-fourths of the way to the front of the line to give this uppity woman a piece of his mind when something about her posture made the back of his skull itch with recognition. Salazar, not her. Please not her.
"Thanks a bunch, Lottie," Hermione Granger was saying when she turned around, her smile freezing on her face like a poorly nailed painting the second she caught sight of him. "Malfoy."
The wizard blinked, his brain momentarily out of order.
"I—What are you doing here?" He finally spit out with an incoherence no one ever wants to display in front of a childhood rival who had grown up to rob a bank, defeat a Dark Lord, and save one from a cursed fire.
She also looked unfairly fit in her dove gray Muggle dress and Gryffindor red lipstick. Unwelcome memories of the war heroine in her school uniform, writhing under him in their Heads' common room flashed through his head.
Granger tilted her curly head. She was raising an eyebrow at the blond with the same disparaging scrutiny with which she'd retaliated by claiming he was her whore after he tried to humiliate her in front of their Potions class in their eighth year.
"I work next door, Malfoy." Her tone was not without humor as she shared a look with the girl behind the counter.
"Miss Granger is the Assistant Head of Magical Law Enforcement," the younger girl chirped in, the snake tattoo on her collarbone slithering up her neck as she turned to Granger. "Draco visits us every day too, but never before noon."
The man in question could feel his cheeks warming up at that and glared at Lotus Bletchley's amused smirk. The girl's family ties to his former girlfriend had never been more obvious. For all that Pansy disapproved of her half-sister's profession, sense of style, and cohabitation with the older Warbeck squib, the two girls shared their delight in torturing Draco.
"Ah," Granger seemed to hesitate. "Well, it's nice to see you supporting our local entrepreneurs, Malfoy, but I have a meeting with Kingsley. Harry is reporting to us about the new Auror recruits." She stole a glance at her delicate wristwatch. "In twenty minutes. Shit."
Draco shifted his weight uncomfortably. He disliked that she was on first name basis with the Minister of Magic. He realized that shaking the man's hand at networking events would not engender the same familiarity as fighting off Death Eaters on the back of a Thestral, but Draco couldn't help but resent his former classmate.
"I'm surprised you didn't follow Potty and the Weasel and became an Auror yourself," said Draco in a derisive tone that had the witch rolling her eyes.
"Please, Malfoy. I did not spend all that time studying to become a policewoman. You Slytherins are not the only ones with ambitions, you know."
She waved his dead Aunt Bellatrix's wand at her drink, which now hovered obediently at her side. He shivered at the Muggleborn's casual use of the instrument that had been used to torture her in his very sitting room. "Well?" Granger's dark eyes were flashing with impatience. "What do you want?"
He noticed Lottie was still eying them with interest as she charmed a foam badger on a teenaged girl's Hazelpuff Crème Latte "with extra chocolate frog crumbles." Some of the other patron's were also following the exchange with unveiled curiosity. Draco could feel his temper rising fast.
"You can't just walk in here and skip the line, Granger!" He protested at last. "We all want our Compulsion Potion drinks served quickly, just like you."
The brunette sneaked another look at Lotus as though Draco were mentally unbalanced. Pansy's wayward sister sighed as though she had to apologize for the blond. "He means the sugar." She frowned "I think?"
He was not fooled. Lotus had been in his House and he knew a Compulsion Potion's effects when he drank one.
"Malfoy, it's too early for me to appreciate the irony of that statement coming from the boy whose father bought his spot on the Quidditch team." Granger sighed and tightened her hold on her briefcase. She opened her mouth to argue some more, but looked at her watch again and thought better of it. "See you tomorrow, Lottie," she called out and made her way out of The Dauphin without sparing him a second look, her steaming drink trailing behind her and evading a bleary-eyed man by the door.
Proud and self-possessed, Draco let her go.
Also, because her heels matched her lipstick and made her calves look delicious, which was admittedly very distracting.
He was comforted by the fact that she was still an insufferable know-it-all with an abrasive personality and subpar hair. He resolved to show up early tomorrow and beat her to the front of the line.
Lottie Bletchley's gleeful voice cut his reverie short.
"Gryffinberry Frappuccino with whipped cream for Draco Malfoy!"
x
A/N - Whipped can also be read as a pseudo-sequel to Whore, if you squint. If you go read Whore now, please keep in mind that I was in middle school when I wrote it, so be nice. Also, I can't explain Lotus. I can't. I just love the idea of Pansy having a little sister with a rebellious streak. Celestina Warbeck really does have a son from her second marriage though, and he might or might not be a squib according to Pottermore.
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