Something random. Based on a forwarded text message a friend of mine sent me. The italicized lyrics belong to 'All I Ask Of You', Phantom of the Opera.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Over Coffee

"Love me, that's all I ask of you."

They met each other in the coffee shop. It was a normal day for Harry. He'd waken up that morning, cursing because his alarm clock had broken down (again) and he would be late for his job if he didn't scurry. He had stopped by the bakery on the way to work to pick up a bagel. He had caught up with paperwork from their last Auror mission in the office. He'd had lunch with Ron and Dean Thomas, who also worked in the Ministry. He'd pored through reports for the rest of the afternoon. And he had gone to his favorite café after work, just to think and listen to the music.

He had pushed open the café's glass doors, let the soothing muggle song wash over him and stopped short when he saw who had taken his usual table. Harry couldn't mistake that head of blond hair anywhere. But he still did a double take anyway. Really, Draco Malfoy in a muggle café wasn't a sight you saw everyday. Harry made a decision on the spot and deliberately walked over to the table where Malfoy was sitting. The blond started when he saw someone pulling a chair and sitting across from him. Cool gray eyes assessed Harry.

"Is the place not big enough for you, Potter?" Malfoy gestured to the other empty tables.

Harry just shrugged. "This is my usual spot Malfoy. You sitting here doesn't stop it from being my usual spot."

Instead of the biting comment he had expected, he was rewarded with a mumbled, "Fine" and an elegant 'I-couldn't-care-less' gesture from Malfoy.

The waitress came over and Harry gave her his order. He looked Malfoy over. He was dressed in chic muggle clothes and no one would ever have suspected he was a wizard. Harry knew better. Harry had after all known him since he was eleven. He felt the familiar onslaught of memories and wondered if Malfoy was thinking about the past too. The last time they had seen each other was on the eve that Harry killed Voldemort. It had not been a pleasant meeting.

He'd read of Malfoy in the papers of course. He was shocked to discover the boy had been a spy for the Light and whereas most of the Purebloods had their estates taken from them, Malfoy had obviously kept his family's fortune. The silence was stifling, uncomfortable. The kind of silence that called for desperate words to be said just so the silence could be filled up. It was punctuated by the waitress giving Harry his cinnamon cappuccino.

Harry sipped the scalding drink as Malfoy did the same with his coffee, turning a page of his book. Harry caught the title. It was a good book. He himself had read it a week ago. Harry felt he should say something. But before he could blurt out the first thing that popped into his mind, Malfoy beat him to it.

"The war's long over, Potter," the blond said lazily.

At Harry's confused look, Malfoy continued. "You were going to ask what I'm doing in a muggle coffee shop. The war's long over and unless you've been a hermit for the past few years – which I doubt – then you'd know I was on your side," he snorted. "So I can stop saying I hate muggles now. Try another question, Potter."

Harry blinked at him and slowly nodded as he signaled the waitress for another cappuccino. "You're right, Malfoy," he paused. "So… how are you."

Malfoy shrugged noncommittally. "Same as ever. And I presume you are, too."

"Er, yeah. I'm, uh, the same as ever too," he laughed nervously. Silence.

"Ron and Hermione are expecting their second child," he blurted out. Malfoy raised a brow.

"Good for them," was the answer. Well, Hermione had always told him he was no good at small talk.

He flailed about for a topic as Malfoy turned another page of his book. "How's your, uh, love life?" Harry winced as he said this. He knew how Malfoy's love life was of course. As did every other person who read the Daily Prophet.

Malfoy looked up sharply at him for a second, then returned to his book. "The same as ever," he coolly replied.

Harry blinked, confused. "You're still after Pansy?" It was well known that Malfoy was courting the pretty Parkinson heiress but the last Harry had read, Malfoy had finally given up.

"No. How could I?" Malfoy finally set the book aside and looked at Harry, gray eyes glittering with emotion and a trace of a bitter smile on his lips. "When I'm still in love with you?"

End

Random. Yes. Very random. Still, I'd appreciate if you'd review anyway.