Title: The Last Drop
Author: Susannah Wilde
Pairing: Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy
Rating: PG
Word Count: 2494 words
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Author Notes: awickedmemory, you were great to write for because you requested coffee shop fic and, since I don't drink coffee, I had a chance to go to Starbucks and people-watch. I realized that coffee lingo is lost on me and that people are very particular about the coffee they drink. I hope you enjoy reading this and have a wonderful Christmas.
Thank you L for the beta and to the mods for organizing this. Y'all are awesome! Written for HD Owl Post Winter Fest 2013.
Summary: Malfoy imparts some flawed wisdom and logic to Harry when they meet at a Muggle coffee shop.
The Last Drop
"Can I have a Caramel Macchiato, Venti, Skim, Extra Shot, Extra-Hot, Extra-Whip, Sugar-Free?"
"Would you like coffee with that?" Harry said to the stranger in front of him, rolling his eyes. The man's back stiffened and the barista smiled at Harry.
"Well, I suppose you think you could do one better?" The man turned around and Harry's smile faded. Draco Malfoy leaned against the counter, looking expectantly at Harry.
Shit, it's Malfoy, Harry thought, and he felt his cheeks warm. Of all the people to run into today and it had to be him. Still, Harry wasn't going to let Malfoy drive him away from this coffee shop.
"Of course. I'll have a tall black coffee please." It was the same drink Harry ordered every time he came in here, even though he knew that he could make it at home for less. Grey eyes widened in surprise and then Malfoy laughed.
Irritation gripped Harry, but before he could pay and leave, Malfoy placed some money on the counter, grabbed both cups and started walking towards the tables at the front of the shop.
Telling himself to remain clam, Harry followed Malfoy and reached forward to take his coffee and leave. However, he squeezed the cup too hard, causing the lid to pop off and hot coffee spilled over the rim and onto both of their hands.
"Fuck, Malfoy!" Harry yelled, shaking his hand to get rid of the excess liquid. He grabbed some napkins and tried to avoid the tender spots on his scalded skin as he dried his hand.
Malfoy just removed his gloves and after a brief glance to make sure he hadn't been burned, he reached into his pocket and pulled out some essence of dittany. Ignoring Harry's protests to put the dittany away, Malfoy healed Harry's burns and then held up Harry's hands to make sure swelling and redness had gone away.
If only Harry could blame his burns on why he felt uneasy about the careful and almost tender way Malfoy paid attention to his hands. Instead, he latched onto what was familiar: making Malfoy angry. "You can't do that, Malfoy! What are you even doing here?"
"What does that matter? Is it a crime to be here? Last I know, the war was over long ago, Potter, or have you forgotten?" Malfoy looked away from him, placing whatever was left of Harry's coffee on the table before sitting down and taking a sip from his own cup. He closed his eyes and a small sigh of content escaped Malfoy's mouth.
"No, no I mean . . . I mean it's full of Muggles," Harry whispered at last, looking around to make sure no one had heard him.
"Yes, well, if there's one thing Muggles might have magic at, it's the coffee. Don't you agree? Of course, you wouldn't know or appreciate it. Merlin, Potter, you come to a coffee shop, where there are endless combinations for coffee, and you order it bare." Malfoy had the same condescending voice Harry remembered from childhood, and even though he had provoked Malfoy, Harry found didn't like it. He had had a long day and he didn't need this right now.
"Yeah, well it's my coffee and I don't need your approval." Harry reached for his cup and started walking towards the entrance.
Malfoy reached out and grabbed his arm.
Controlling his voice so that his anger wouldn't show, Harry said, "Let me be. I'd rather leave before I have to explain to Auror Robards why I hexed you in front of all these Muggles. So have a good day, a good life . . . Goodbye, Malfoy."
"Stay," Malfoy said and Harry had to turn around to make sure he had heard right. Malfoy stared back and gestured towards the chair.
"Why?"
"I still haven't answered your question and it looks like we could both use the company."
Harry blinked back in surprise. His Occlumency skills had improved since Hogwarts, but it still startled him how easily Malfoy could read him. They only saw each other at Ministry events or in passing at St Mungo's when Harry needed to be stitched up after being attacked out on the field.
Still, the knowledge of an empty flat and no one waiting for him anymore was enough for Harry to accept the invitation.
"So why are you here?" Harry asked again, placing his cup on the table and sitting down across from Malfoy. He looked up just as Malfoy took a moment to lick the coffee off his lips.
"I needed a place to go where I didn't need to watch my back every time I wanted to be free. If you hadn't noticed, I wasn't exactly welcomed anywhere in the Wizarding world, even when I was trying to make amends. In fact, I was at the Lovegood's house when the idea came to me to go into Muggle London. She offered me tea before I left and I refused, saying that I hated tea, couldn't stand it anymore."
Harry frowned. Before the war, Malfoy lived for tea. He remembered that Malfoy would drink tea like it was air, especially during sixth year when, to put it mildly, life was less than perfect.
Looking at Harry, Malfoy said, "It's hard not to taste blood in my tea, seeing as I now associate tea with the Dark Lord. Everyone in the Manor had to attend these meetings where he laid out tea and cakes and expected us to eat while he talked about the progress of the war. To sit at the table every day and pretend to enjoy it even though everyone knew that Veritaserum was in the damn drink was torture.
"The Dark Lord liked to invent games to manipulate people without using his wand. Instead of gossip or mindless chatter, we would see each other spilling out our deepest secrets, trying to find a traitor in his midst. It became a game to some to make each cup of tea last for the entire hour, or risk having another poisoned cup pressed into their hands. Sometimes those who had second cups had the antidote mixed in it, but it was hit and miss."
"That's awful." Harry knew about the great lengths Voldemort went to control his followers, but he never this.
"That's life, Potter, so take off your rose-coloured glasses." Harry made a sound from the back of his throat and Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "After I refused the tea from Lovegood and left her house, I went to Muggle London. Strange, isn't it? The one place I always detested and yet it was the one place I was most safe from other wizards. I walked around, trying to stay out of the rain and it wasn't until I saw this place did I stop."
Harry looked around the place and he could see why Malfoy would like it. Although it was small, the place was cozy and warm, a place where people had conversations amidst the hustle and bustle of the shop. Best of all was the smell. The aroma of chocolate, vanilla, coffee beans, along with the smell of baked treats would make anyone feel comfortable here. It was, after all, one of the reasons Harry came here.
At the look of satisfaction on Harry's face, Malfoy grinned and raised his cup in a mock toast. "I came inside and looked at the menu and just added every flavor that I recognised and liked. The first sip was perfect, not because of its taste, but since I knew that it didn't have Veritaserum and I wouldn't be spilling any of my secrets to strangers. I finally had a piece of my life back."
"So you found coffee. If you love it that much, why is it that I've never seen you in here before?"
Malfoy took another sip before sitting back in the chair. "You think I don't have a house-elf that knows how I take my coffee? Besides, I only come here every time I'm stood up."
Harry choked upon hearing that statement and he spewed coffee all over his shirt. "What did you say?" he managed to ask in between fits of coughing.
Malfoy scowled at the mess, but this time Harry didn't bother to protest as Malfoy tossed him napkins to clean the mess. "It seems that no one wants to date a former Death Eater, no matter how much I've tried to change. They take one look at me and just see the Mark before even giving me a chance. I've grown to know this place quite a bit over the years."
Harry didn't say a word as he stared outside the window. It was now completely dark outside and a few drifts of snow came in every time the door opened. He shivered and tightened his hands around the coffee cup, letting the bitter scent calm him. Harry understood what Malfoy was talking about. He, too, wanted to have his life back in order, but found it difficult considering who he was.
"It's funny that you come here only when your date hasn't shown. I only come here when I've been broken up with." Malfoy looked up in surprise and Harry would have found his expression comical if he wasn't so focused on not sounding like an idiot.
"It seems that everyone wants to date the hero, but I've never been that person. I try to date people that want to get to know me, the real me, and not just some stupid scar on my face. Obviously that hasn't happened yet." Harry sipped his coffee again, welcoming the bitter taste it left in his mouth.
After a while, Malfoy asked, "Who was it this time? Anyone I know?"
Harry sighed and wondered why he was telling Malfoy this; perhaps it was because Malfoy was conveniently there and it would feel good to have this off of his chest. "He was Michael and I should have known better than to have dated him. Even Hermione and Ron didn't like him, though they were too polite to tell me."
Harry placed his hand in his pocket where he felt the note that had been left on his kitchen table. "The last thing he wrote in the letter this morning before he left said 'I always wondered how you managed to defeat the Dark Lord and now I know. You must have bored him to tears and then killed him while he slept. I hope you learn to live a little if you ever want to find love because the way you live now is no life at all.'"
Malfoy laughed and rolled his eyes. "You were always one for drama, Potter? One only has to read Granger's book on the war to know that's not true. You're the Boy-Who-Lived, after all; go out and find someone instead of complaining about it."
"Yeah, well it's not that easy and to be honest, I've given up on finding happiness. I'd rather be alone than to have to conform to someone else's ideals of how to live my life."
Malfoy muttered something that Harry didn't catch and Harry decided that it was time to leave before Malfoy said anything to anger him. He put on his coat and checked to see that he had his wand when Malfoy cleared his throat and Harry turned to look at him.
"Do you know that the kind of coffee you drink says a lot about you?" Malfoy said.
It was an odd remark for Malfoy to say and it stopped Harry in his tracks. "How could you possible know that? Besides, I know what I am, boring. You said so yourself."
Malfoy winced but didn't deny the comment. "True, but Lovegood gave me this book that correlates the type of person you are with your drink of choice."
Harry pointed his finger at Malfoy's cup and said, "Oh, and what did Luna's book say about you? Confused? Spoiled? Weird? Merlin knows you add so much to your coffee that all you can taste is sugar."
Malfoy laughed and this time Harry could tell that it was real. Malfoy was not that good of an actor to fake the crinkles at the corners of his eyes and mouth when he smiled.
"Maybe it's a combination of all three. I've been known to be a complicated person, Potter."
"Don't I know it," Harry said and he felt himself relax as he sat down again.
Malfoy waved a hand as if to banish the thought away. "All jests aside, I like my coffee the way I live my life. I have high standards and why shouldn't I demand the same from what I drink? I want something I can savour until the last drop."
"Or that just makes you a coffee snob." Harry said. "You're probably one of those people who have latte art drawn just because you can." Harry smirked when Malfoy pulled his coffee cup out of reach.
"True, but I like my definition better." Malfoy looked pleased with himself.
"Okay, then what does plain black coffee say about me?"
Malfoy took a moment to consider and looked into Harry's eyes. Harry didn't like Malfoy scrutinising him, but he couldn't look away because here was one person who wouldn't lie to him. He twisted and tore at his napkin as he waited for Malfoy's verdict.
"You are a rock."
Harry was confused and when Malfoy didn't continue speaking, he asked, "A rock? That's it? Why a rock? Now I know you're mad."
"You asked for my opinion; besides, it's not a bad thing. The baristas start with black coffee when they make a customer's order and just add flavours: creams, sugar, milk, and syrups, anything to make the bitter taste of pure coffee to go away. It just means that you are the foundation on which people build their lives, so to speak. The relationships you have with people, whether as friends, family, or lovers are important and it would be hard to imagine that they don't care about you. Face it, people depend on you. Even me."
Harry found himself smiling at the comments before saying, "You're shit at metaphors, Malfoy, and your logic is off. Still, that's the nicest thing you've said about me."
"I'm full of sugar so I'm not in my right mind right now, Potter. Don't get used to my compliments."
"Then let me pay you one in return."
When Harry kissed Malfoy, he tasted heaven. All the different flavors, spices and sweets mixed with the hidden taste of black coffee just as Malfoy had said. Harry deepened the kiss and soon both were breathless, breaking apart only when several people cleared their throats loudly.
Harry pulled back and grinned at Malfoy as he tried to compose himself and failed. "I think I found my new favourite flavour of coffee, Malfoy."
"Is it any good?" Malfoy smirked
"It's perfect."