Theodore Nott hadn't been to the Corner Café in several days, four to be exact. On the morning of the fifth day, he woke up and made himself breakfast. He'd gotten significantly better at the task. He no longer burned the toast in the toaster, when it popped out of the toaster it was no longer a charred black color instead it was the same shade of golden brown that it was when his house elf presented it to him. The eggs were no longer some odd mix of runny and burned, instead they were more firm. Coffee on the other hand, he hadn't quite figured out. Sometimes it was too watered down, not enough coffee, even though he liked his coffee black, there were times when it was too strong. If he hadn't been avoiding going to the café, he could have had one of her cups of smooth, black coffee.

The corner of his lip curled as the thought of her coffee crossed his mind. He pressed his elbows against the counter near the sink after he'd placed his plate in the sink. Of course, he would think of her coffee when his was so lackluster. He ran his fingers through his dark hair and pushed away from the counter, leaving the plate and cup of watery coffee in the sink, he walked towards the front door. Pulling open the entry closet, he grabbed a pair of his shoes and slipped them on. Just because he wasn't going to the Corner Café didn't mean that he couldn't go out.

With his hands in their usual place, shoved deep into his pockets, he made his way down the street. The area had become very familiar to him. He knew where the dips were in the sidewalk and where the water pooled when it rained. He knew when the older couple a few houses down let their dog out and came to check the post. He tried his best to be long gone before they did, the woman that lived that was quite chatty. He'd timed it quite well, today, by the time that he heard the dog barking, he was turning a corner.

As he made his was by the window of the bookstore, something caught his eye. Not in the window, but on the street. One of those two-wheeled speed machines, bikes as the muggles called them, zoomed by. He'd become highly sensitive to them, since they had been such a nuisance to him when he first got to Blackpool. However, this time it wasn't the bike that caught his attention, but what was on it. Copper colored hair blowing in the wind.

Her.

His eyes followed her on the bike as she pedaled down the street, before making a left. A left? That was odd, the Corner Café was straight down this street. Which meant she wasn't going to the café. This interested him, for a reason unknown to glanced into the bookstore through the window. He'd come to find some sort of quiet, outside of his home, however there were children in the store. While they seemed to be sitting quietly at the moment, they looked as if they could start making a ruckus at any moment. Running around and laughing, as he'd found that muggle children do. His icy eyes turned away from the bookstore as he continued down the road, taking a left.

He had never been down this road; he'd never had a need. It wasn't much different from the other streets; the same brick ran along this building as the others. It was the same. He noted that the bike she had zoomed by on was leaning against the brick; a blue bike. He walked to it, stopping outside of the establishment. Surprise crossed through his icy eyes as he saw what was inside. Pianos. A music store. He took a step back, looking up at the name of the shop: Blackpool Music Academy. Music? He peeked into the window again, now seeing her copper hair at one of the pianos near the window. Her fingers were moving through pages on the piano and her lips were moving, speaking to someone that he couldn't see. The corner of her lips turned upward, smiling, at the person that she couldn't see. Green eyes fell on the pages before her and she placed her hands together almost as if praying, but she separated her thumbs and pressed her fingers together. The way she clenched and unclenched her hands afterward, he recognized that her previous action had been her cracking her fingers. Through the window, he watched her fingers on the keys. Slow, deliberate motions with one hand, then the other, then both. She brought her eyes up to the pages in front of her, adjusting them and then placing all ten fingers on the keys. Her fingers started to move on the keys.

Theodore watched.

Her fingers sliding across the keys in an effortless manner. Green eyes focused in on the sheet in front of her. He could see her playing, but it was muted due to the glass between them. He found himself wondering if she could play well.

Her green eyes flicked over to the window briefly. Their eyes met of the briefest of moments as hers moved from one line to the other. Her fingers faltered on the keys and from the expression on her face, the sound that followed was less than pleasant. Wrinkles formed on the bridge of her nose as she scrunched it. Instead of looking at him in the window fully, her gaze returned to the keys and the page of music before her.

"Oi."

Theodore pulled his eyes away from the window and towards the sound. An older woman standing in the doorway. Grey hair pulled back and thick glasses covering her eyes. The sounds of her playing filtered out of the open door. The song she was playing sounded oddly familiar. He was sure that he'd heard it before.

"No loitering, if you want a lesson come in."

He frowned before opening his mouth to speak.

"Ms. Emma," her voice said over the piano's music.

"Yes?"

"He's a friend, who is welcome to come in if he likes," she continued.

The woman in the doorway looked at him through narrowed eyes. "If you're a friend of Liv's, then you must not be as bad as you look." With that, the woman turned away from him and went back inside, letting the door shut behind her.

Theodore scoffed. Who did that woman think that she was? Telling him that he had to leave? He rolled his icy eyes, before turning over his shoulder to walk back down the street and towards the bookstore. However, his eyes fell on the door, the entrance to the music school. He found himself wandering about her playing. How well she could play. And the song. While he couldn't hear it anymore, he could still hear it playing somewhere in the vaults of his memory. If bothered him that he knew this song, but couldn't place it. Which meant, it was a muggle song. He pulled the door open, more roughly than necessary but enough to show that he had not wanted to come into the shop.

"Good afternoon," her voice greeted as her fingers struck a chord, before gliding across the keys again.

"The song."

She was quiet as she continued to play. The melody that he'd heard through the door reappearing, the same one that he had in his head. Quiet, but powerful. An expressive piece. Flowing and smooth. There was a slight jarring, rushing of the notes on her right hand following a split moment of hesitation before her fingers moved over the keys. That aside, everything else was fluid. Serene. And then it was over.

She shifted in her seat to face him, bright green eyes falling on him and her hands falling on her lap. "What about the song?"

"What is it?"

A mischievous glint passed through her eyes as a smirk played on her lips. "I've told you before," was her reply.

"Have you?" he asked. He could feel the corner of his lips twitching upward, his lips curling into a smirk to match hers.

This might have been the first time he realized that he did enjoy their banter. It made him feel almost at home. Almost like he was sitting in the common room with Pansy, who he took great pleasure in annoying, or Draco, who's skin it was much too easy to get under.

"I have."

The smirk stayed on her lips. She looked positively… He stopped his train of thought immediately. No. No, she didn't. She'd never look that way.

"At the café," she said, her head tilting to the side as she spoke. Green eyes still hoping that mischievous glint.

"Ah."

Theodore tried not to look as if he was thinking too hard. However, he was searching his mind, trying to find when it was that she had told him. He filtered through the memories, countless ones, of her asking coffee, black or Earl Grey. Sifted through the conversations that they had had about the books she'd given him. He was nearing his wits end, when

"That song," he mumbled under his breath. "What are you humming?"

"Clair de Lune," she answered. "Are we asking questions now?"

"No," he told her. "I just wanted to know the name of the song."

"Clair de Lune," he said quietly, hoping that she wouldn't hear him. However, they were the only two people speaking, actually they were the only things making a sound in the room. After she'd stopped playing, the air had grown very silent and impossibly still.

Her green eyes danced. "Yes. Clair de Lune." With that, she turned on the stool to face the piano again, placing her fingers on the keys. She picked up somewhere in the middle of the song. The music she started on was strong but still quiet. It took a moment for him to realize, but she was playing the part of the song that she was humming in the restaurant. It sounded much better on the piano than it did with her humming it. However, it did seem to be a difficult part of the song to hum. The notes all seemed to happen at the same time and all in different places. "Quite a pretty song, no?" she let her hands fall to her lap again.

"Quite," he agreed.

Her green eyes fell on him as she looked at him over her shoulder. "I have a book for you," she said. She lifted her arms over her head, stretching. Her shirt lifted slightly, exposing the warm beige hue of her skin. It reminded him of the bonfire. Which reminded him of the reason that he had been avoiding the café.

That tingling in his hand. The one that didn't disappear until he was halfway home. He tucked his hands deeper into his pockets, hiding them. "Do you?" he replied, a tension in his voice.

Slender fingers reached into a black backpack on the floor next to the piano bench, when they retreated from the bag they held a small book. "Charlotte's Web. I know you said no to it, but I don't care. It's my favorite," she held it out to him. "Take it, read it."

"It's a children's book," he countered. However, he removed his hand from his pocket and took the book from her careful not to touch her; a pig and a little girl were on the cover.

"Children's books can teach us a lot," she replied. "Where do you think children learn things?"

"School, parents," he listed off as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"And books," she finished. "Read the book and then you can tell me how much you hated it." She glanced upward and pushed away from the piano, lowering the cover as she did. "Thank you, Miss. Emma."

"When are you going to play for someone that's not me or the kids," the older woman called to her.

The freckles stood out against her skin a little more, and he realized that she was blushing. Her eyes were downcast as she twisted the strap of her bag between her fingers. This was the first time he'd seen her not smiling. The first time he'd seen her look shy. "Miss. Emma. I'm not-"

Something flew across the room, hitting her arm. She flinched, bringing her hand to her arm to rub the place where the item had hit her. She shifted her gaze in the direction that the item had come from. The older woman was standing in a doorway, shaking her head disapprovingly.

"You'll never get better if you only play for me," she scolded.

"I played for Theodore," she said, gesturing to the other person in the room.

"You," the woman pointed to the wizard, "boy, what did you think?"

"Pardon?"

"Of her playing. You're her friend, what do you think?"

She'd shifted her gaze away from the older woman, Miss. Emma, and to the ground. He could see her green eyes shifting from him and a spot on the floor. What did he think? He rocked back onto his heels and looked from her to the older woman. "Er," he said, before clearing his throat.

"It's not a difficult question, son," the older woman said, irritation in her voice.

His icy gaze fell on the barista again. Her bottom lip had found its way between her canine teeth. Her eyes had lifted slightly, focused on a spot on the wall. Her cheeks had reddened a bit more, her blush had changed from a light coral color to a pink one. This was why he needed to stop hanging around this muggle girl. She always seemed to bring him around more muggles ones that were less intelligent than she and didn't know when to leave well enough alone. This, her skill level on piano, was none of his concern. He could have just walked out of the establishment and left her there. While her playing wasn't his problem, he found himself… wanting to answer. He should not have cared about it, her frowning instead of smiling and her bubbly personality now under a shroud of something bordering near insecurity, but he almost felt like he did. He frowned, watching her through his blue eyes. "Her playing is satisfactory," he answered.

Her green eyes flicked over towards him, the brightness returning to her eyes, and the corners of her lips turned upward.

"Satisfactory?" the older woman scoffed. "Some friend you have there, Olivia."

The barista laughed, turning on her heel and walking towards the door. As she did, she gently gripped the fabric of Theodore's jacket, taking him with her. Theodore tensed, hand clenching around the book in it. The last time she'd touched him, his skin had tingled. Apparently, the fabric between them kept that feeling away. "I think so, Miss. Emma."

It wasn't until they were outside, and she dropped her hand from his arm, that he realized that she had still been holding the fabric of his jacket. He'd allowed her to touch him. He stopped in his tracks, just outside the door of the building. He looked at the place on his jacket where she'd grabbed him. There was nothing on his jacket to show that she'd had touched him. No filthy fingerprint.

"Theodore."

Her voice pulled him from his thoughts. When he looked up at her she was holding her bike by the handles. A blue bike with a tweed basket on the front. "Yes?"

"Coffee, black or Earl Grey?" she asked as she started walking.

In order to answer her, he had to follow her. So he did. "What?"

"I'm going to work now," she answered. "So coffee or tea?"

"Who says I'm coming with you?"

"Do you have any other plans?" she questioned, looking over at him with her bright eyes.

He was caught off guard. "Er, no." Honestly, he wasn't sure what he was going to do if he hadn't seen her zooming down the street. The bookstore was still very much so out of the question.

"So you can sit there and read and complain to me in real time about hating the book," she said, playfully. "Haven't seen you around in a few days."

She'd noticed. Of course, she did. She didn't give the impression of someone who wouldn't notice someone she called a friend missing from the day-to-day routine. And his appearances at the café had become a daily event. He would always end up there, whether he intended to or not. There were days where he did, intend to that is, to take her her book back, but other times he really did just end up on that corner.

Before he could respond, they were there, approaching the Corner Café. "Go in, tell Jimmy what you want."

With that, she turned her bike down the alley behind the café. He sighed and turned the corner before entering the café.

"Welcome to the Corner Café," a boy behind the counter greeted. He was younger than him, lanky. "What can I start for you?"

"Earl Grey," he told the boy as he walked to his usual place.

It was odd to not be greeted by the copper haired barista. She was always there when he arrived. He was sure that she wasn't the only employee of the café, it would have been silly to think that she was the only employee, but she was the one that was always there when he walked in. He hadn't been greeted with 'Welcome to the Corner Café' in months. It was always 'Theodore' or 'What did you think about the book?' or 'Coffee, black or Earl Grey, Theodore'. And as much as he didn't want to admit it, as much as he hated to admit it, the latter was his favorite greeting.

"Jimmy?"

"Liv."

Theodore looked at her reflection in the glass. She was standing in the doorway, pulling her hair into a ponytail. She then grabbed an apron, a navy one off a hook. Easily she pulled it over her head and began to tie it behind her back. She then approached the boy. "Earl Grey today, Theodore?" she questioned.

"Yes."

She placed her hand on the boy's shoulder. "You can head out. I'll take it from here. You have that meeting at the school, right? For the scholarship to university?"

The boy smiled and blushed as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, Liv. I didn't think you would remember that."

"Why wouldn't I?" She placed a tea bag into the cup. "Good luck, yeah?"

"Have a good afternoon, Liv," Jimmy said as he hooked his apron and started out the front door. "And thank you!"

She chuckled as he ran out of the door and she made her way towards the table Theodore was sitting at. "Earl Grey," she said as she placed it on the table. She moved away from him, Theodore's icy gaze followed her in the window. "May I ask you a question?"

He answered before he knew what he was saying. "Yes." Merlin's Beard. He almost dropped the spoon that he was holding. What was he thinking?

She looked just as shocked as he did. "Really?"

Slowly he placed the spoon back on the saucer. "Apparently so," he mumbled under his breath. He brought the cup to his lips. "What?" he asked before taking a sip.

"You have family?" she asked, leaning on the counter.

He frowned. "Yes. I do."

"Back in Bristol."

"Yes."

"Care to elaborate?"

"Not really."

No, he did not care to elaborate. That would mean that he would have to think about his family. His father, who he was certain would have been tried and placed in Azkaban at this point. His mother, who probably missed him dearly and was desperate to find him. His friends. Draco, a friend who he had no idea where he was. If he was in London, he surely had been taken. Blaise, he had probably managed to escape the search. His only true crime was being a Slytherin close to Draco Malfoy.

She looked at him through her bright green eyes. "You're closer to your mum?" she said. He couldn't tell if it was a statement that turned into a question or if she had been just asking him about it.

He lowered the cup to the saucer. "Yes," he answered. He took the spoon and stirred the beverage in the cup. "My mother and I are close," he said.

"Your father?" she said.

Theodore's eyes met hers in the window. She was biting down on her bottom lip, curiosity forming in her eyes. "My father and I are not so close." After all, his father was the reason that he had gotten as involved with the Dark Lord as he did.

She tilted her head to the side, looking at him. "Me and my mum, we are close too. My dad and I," she shrugged, "are fine."

He brought the cup to his lips. He felt the question forming on his lips and he took a drink of the beverage to keep it at bay. He hoped that he had swallowed the question with the tea but when he placed the cup back on the saucer it was still there. He rolled his icy eyes. "Fine?" Why? Why did he have to asked her that?

"Yeah, we're fine. He's, uh, actually getting married in November."

"Married?"

"Yes.

She looked as if she didn't want to talk about the topic anymore. Her gaze kept shifting and she was fiddling with her thumbs. He frowned and looked over at her, facing her.

"I see," he replied. She still looked highly uncomfortable. He frowned looking at her. Her discomfort radiated across the room, making him feel odd. He shifted in his seat as he looked at her. He was hit with the sudden need to talk and ease her discomfort. Not his, hers. He cleared her throat. "The book," he said, tapping it.

"It's good," she told him. "Friendship between two unlikely characters. Just," she gestured towards him, "read it."

"Now?"

"I'll be quiet and read something of my own," she told him, producing the copy of The Great Gatsby from underneath the counter. She walked towards him, holding the book between her fingers. "It's, uh, a pretty quiet time in the day. May I join you?" she questioned, gesturing towards the empty seat across from him.

Theodore watched her, through the steam coming off of his tea. Freckles dancing across her nose and a soft smile on her lips. Her weight was back in her heels, her toes slightly off the ground. "May you?" He asked as if he needed clarification on what she was asking.

"Join you?" she clarified. "I will refill your tea as often as necessary," she added in a singsong voice.

He looked down at the tea and opened the book that she'd given him. Without a word, he gestured towards the chair across from him. He didn't look up as she settled into the chair across from him. Her foot brushed against his leg under the table as she crossed her legs. The touch was so quick that he had no time to flinch away from it.

The wizard looked over the top of his book. He was startled to see her green eyes looking at him from over the top of hers. The corners of her lips turned upward. Had she always had dimples? They were faint and soft, but there. Her eyes lowered from his and to the book in her hand. The smile still on her lips, and the soft dimples still in her cheeks.

Theodore would never admit to it, but this, sitting in a quiet café with this muggle girl, Olivia¸ reading was nice.


A/N: I am so sorry! It been a rough few weeks. I've been sick and school has been a huge pain in my ass. And to top it all off, I couldn't figure out how to write this chapter and where I wanted it to go and I swear, it's been a pain. I hope you enjoyed it! The same applies; leave me a review and let me know what you think!

~ Nikki