Written for a writing challenge. Prompt: Ice Lemon -

- (word) Crystallize

- (word) Sour

- (dialogue) "I don't mean to be bitter. I just have a hard time opening up."

- Bakery!AU - Bonus

- (object) Muggle cash

An apology in advance: I am American and I have no clue on how the British currency exchange blah blah blah goes so I'll be using US dollars, which I am familiar with. Thank you!

Bitter and Guarded

The bakery was filled with the hum of display cases. The day was almost over, and there was no one left in the shop. There was the whir of an old fan, filling the room with a rhythmic chop, chop, chop.

The door opened with its tinkling bells sounding. Draco Malfoy looked up warily to greet the new customer with the last ounce of optimism he had left.

It had been a draining day; he had to deal with four different people who insulted him because of his past. Draco had chosen to work at a muggle bakery to escape the wrath of the wizarding world for the wrong doings he had committed in the past, but many wizards came to buy the famous breads and cakes here and they made his job difficult. Besides, no wizard job would probably ever take him anymore.

He opened his mouth to welcome the woman who had just entered with the same monotone voice he had been using the entire day, but his voice got stuck in his throat when he saw who the woman was.

It was Hermione Granger. The bushy brown hair was a dead giveaway. But her eyes were exhausted, and her shoulders were hunched, making her look as tired as he felt. She did not look like the girl he knew back in school. She shuffled up to the counter where he was standing. It seemed like she hadn't noticed him yet.

"What can I get for you?" he asked as pleasantly as possible, trying to keep the snark out of his voice. If she dare made a comment of his past he might as well explode from the stress.

Upon hearing the familiar drawl, Hermione looked up quickly. Her brown eyes widened in surprise as she registered who had spoken. Draco waited for her reaction with a tilted head.

"This is a muggle bakery, Malfoy," she said quickly, tossing a lock of her brown curls over her shoulder.

Well. That went better than he had thought it'd go. At least she didn't insult him like he had thought she would. For some reason, Draco felt relieved. He didn't think he could handle any more nasty comments today. "I'm aware," Draco said.

"And… you work here?" she asked.

Draco resisted the urge to roll his eyes, as she was a customer after all. The manager would fire him as soon as he found out he had treated a customer terribly. "No, Granger, I stand behind this counter meeting biased people who insult me every day just for fun. Of course I work here!"

"I - uh, of course," Hermione said, unsure of what to say to his comment. People insulted him? That meant wizards came here too... She had thought only muggles came to this quaint bakery. Besides, didn't they have anything else to do but insult him? How rude! "I just didn't expect you to work here."

Draco arched an eyebrow. "Why not?"

Hermione shrugged. "You know, considering this is a muggle bakery, and you don't really…. enjoy the company of muggles and everything," Hermione paused, looking slightly embarrassed at the intense gaze from Draco. "Oh forget it. I was just surprised I saw you here. I come here often and I never seen you before, so…"

"Well, I do, whether you like it or not. So would you hurry on telling me what you want before I combust from the anticipation?" Draco said irritably, tapping a pair of tongs on the counter.

Hermione sniffed, her nose in the air, all feelings of slight pity for him gone. "Hold your horses. I want… May I have two lemon pastries?"

"That'd be eight dollars," Draco said stiffly.

"Eight dollars?" Hermione echoed. "I thought the pastries here were six dollars ea-"

"Shut up," Draco snapped. Why couldn't she just accept things as it was? Why did she have to question everything? Why did she have to be so infuriating? "It's four dollars per pastry - it's on sale."

"Oh." Hermione stifled a yawn as Draco busied himself, shoving a lemon pastry in a paper bag. Using more force than necessary, he thrust the sealed bag at Hermione's direction.

Hermione fumbled around for her purse. She threw down a couple dollars as well as some coins on the counter. She snatched the bag out of Draco's hand and peered inside it.

He blinked down at the amount in front of him. "You gave me four dollars more than necessary."

Hiding her surprise that her bigoted schoolyard bully knew how to calculate muggle money, she said, "It's called tip. Besides, you gave me a pastry too many. What's that about?"

Draco shrugged. "It's called charity. You looked positively bedraggled."

Hermione rolled her eyes, quite aware of her appearance. "Why thank you, kind sir. You just made me feel so good about myself."

"You looked like you needed it," he said simply.

She did. Being part of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, she worked nonstop trying to maintain simply control but today was just crazy. And the lemon pastries sold here were to die for.

"Well… thank you," What else could she say? "Business alright today?"

Draco nearly snorted at the poor attempt at conversation, but he decided to play along. "It always drags at the end of the day, but it's usually packed to the brim."

"I - I see," Hermione said.

An awkward silence hung around them like a damp blanket.

"So… why did you decide working here?" Hermione asked.

A personal question. Draco shifted in feet in slight nervousness, but she couldn't see that. "I just… wanted to, you know?"

Lies. Working at a bakery wasn't exactly on his Top Ten Things To Do as a child. It wasn't considered a job a Malfoy would do.

"I see. So… " Hermione was running out of things to say; she was making him a bit jittery, she could see. "I've - I've heard about your mother."

Must she pick out the most uncomfortable things to say? His mother was slowly deteriorating as more time passed with Lucius in Azkaban; going insane. "Yeah."

"I'm sorry," Hermione said. "Is she… well now?"

Draco clamped his mouth shut and averted his eyes. He didn't have to answer her.

Hermione, sensing the awkwardness and Draco's unwilling to talk, reached into the bakery bag and pulled out a lemon pastry. She held it up to the light to examine it, and then she bit into it.

Flavors exploded in her mouth - sweet, tangy, lemony, with an aftertaste of slight bitterness. But there was one dominant taste - sourness.

"You know," Hermione said. "This lemon bread reminds me a bit of you."

Draco raised an eyebrow, unclamping his mouth. "Excuse me?"

"It does," Hermione said, taking another bite, glad she made him talking again. Ahead of her was an uneventful, lonely evening. At least this conversation, no matter who she was having it with (even her once enemy) was interesting.

"How, may I ask, does a pastry remind you of me?"

"A lemon pastry," Hermione corrected. "It reminds me of you because you're so… sour most of the time. Guarded. Bitter."

Draco was unsure of what to say. But something she had said struck him. "I don't mean to be bitter," he said slowly. "I just have a hard time opening up."

"Why?" Hermione pressed. "Why not?"

Draco swallowed, his mouth feeling dry. "Because I'm afraid," he said quietly. "I'm afraid no one would want to listen. And no one does, in the end."

Silence settled between them. Finally, Hermione spoke up. "There will always be someone's who's willing to listen."

Draco let out a bitter laugh. "There'd be someone who'd listen to me? A convicted death eater? A person who had to resort getting a muggle job because the wizarding community didn't accept him? Get real, Granger. No one will listen to me. And I won't waste my breath."

"You're saying to get real to me?" Hermione snapped. "I know all this by first hand. I know the world isn't perfect. It's not supposed to be. But how can you expect the world to accept you and listen to you as a person? You've got a reputation of killing people - "

"I don't expect them to," Draco said tiredly. "I don't expect them to. That's the thing."

Hermione's heart flipped at the sound of his defeated tone. "I - you're carrying a burden."

"I am?" Draco asked, straightening, mask on his face again. "I don't believe I am."

"You're always hiding under this mask," Hermione said frustratedly. Why did she feel like trying to help this man? It must be the war instincts going override, to help whoever in need. "You just keep whatever's ailing you in you, and it's eating you up from the inside."

"So what do you propose on doing?" Draco asked coolly.

"Talk to someone," Hermione emphasized. "It's easier to carry burden with another person than carrying it all alone."

"Who would listen to me? Who would talk to me? Well, this is a load of bull," Draco said irritably. "If you don't mind, Granger, I have work to do. I am a very busy person - "

"There's no one here," Hermione pointed out, looking around, as if a person was hiding behind one of the chairs or tables.

"- and I have an extremely tight schedule. Very busy, you see," he said, turning around, shuffling paper bags.

"I'll listen," Hermione blurted out, watching him.

Stupid, stupid, stupid! It must be the instincts again. This was Malfoy, for Merlin's sake. He'd probably laugh at her.

"What?" His voice was incredulous. But was that also… hope in his voice?

Hermione swallowed. "I'll listen."

Draco paused, doubt etched on his face. "Would you? Would you stay for every bit of it?"

"I will."

"Then… then I'll talk."