After all, coffee is bitter, a flavor from the forbidden and dangerous realm. --Diane Ackerman
Ginny Weasley sat at her usual table in the bookstore-cum-coffee house located just over the road from George and Fred's joke shop. She would be heading back to Hogwarts in two days and, honestly, spending the hols with her brothers hadn't been half bad. She would actually miss them, in spite of the fact that they'd made her do all the cooking. At least they'd done the washing up and had even helped with marketing. Ginny supposed that it hadn't been nearly as bad as she'd made out to Malfoy the week before she left.
Sighing, Ginny picked up her cup of steaming coffee, a special blend with a cinnamon-cocoa-vanilla flavour and heaping with frothy whipped cream. She'd tried it on the recommendation of the young man who worked at the place in the evenings, after most of the other shops along the lane closed. Ginny had come in after helping George and Fred, drawn as much by the wonderful aromas wafting out onto the cold street as by the rows and stacks and shelves of books. She'd been quite overwhelmed at the variety of beverages one could order, from iced drinks to cool teas to scaldingly hot chocolates and coffees.
The young man behind the counter gave her a practiced look and had guessed that she liked her chocolate hot and sweet. She had admitted to the childish preference and to thinking that coffee was a little too bitter for her taste. Smiling, the young man had gone to work. The resultant drink, he'd told her, wasn't chocolate, but it had cocoa flavouring, and he bet she'd love it. She had, and couldn't be moved to try anything else after.
Now Ginny was addicted and wondering if, after George and Fred paid her for her help, she might not be able to afford one of the tiny, single cup drip coffee makers and a few bags of the special brew.
Taking a careful sip of the piping hot, sweet coffee, Ginny tried to focus on her novel. It was difficult, though. She would be returning to Hogwarts in two days and she still felt horrid about the argument she and Malfoy had had. Well, not an argument, because that took two people. But he had just exploded at her, and hadn't spoken to her since. It was sad, because she was coming to like the nasty, arrogant git, a lot. Not romantically, of course, but she liked his company and it was sad to think that the rapport they'd developed had been destroyed so easily and quickly.
"You know, frownin' like that's not good for you," a pleasant voice said from over her shoulder.
"How do you know I'm frowning?" Ginny asked, turning to see the man from the shop standing behind her.
He grinned and sat at her table. He often did when there were no other customers, and Ginny had found that, in spite of him being possibly four or five years older, she enjoyed his conversation.
"You're always frownin' before you start readin'. Bad memories?"
Ginny looked away from the young man's plain, comfortable face and shrugged.
"It's nothing, Bob," she said. "Just thinking about a fr—an acquaintance. We had a kind of falling out before I left school."
She glanced back to see Bob's mobile eyebrows lift. "You had a fight wi' your boyfriend?"
Ginny smiled. "No, he wasn't my boyfriend. Even I'm not that insane. But I did think we were friends."
Reaching to give her hand a small squeeze, Bob said, "So, you're not even friends wi' the bloke?"
"I guess not. We had a sort of disagreement and he wouldn't talk to me after. I thought we'd become friends, but I guess I was more of an amusement; a way to pass time."
At the young man's look of outrage, Ginny giggled. "I didn't mean like that. We just talked. We argued, but in fun, you know? He'd tease me, I'd tease him back. But our only serious conversation just sort of blew up."
They sat in silence for another moment before the young man said, "You're leavin' tomorrow?"
"Day after, but tomorrow the boys are taking me out to a real dinner. They're trying to make up for making me slave over their stove these last two weeks."
Ginny grinned, but her new friend didn't look very happy. "What? What is it?"
"Nothin'," he said as he stood to help the customer who had just entered.
Ginny watched him for a moment, then returned to her book.
Some time later, Ginny drank down the dregs of her coffee and closed the book. It was time to go home. Bob hurried over as Ginny stood. He took Ginny's hand and held it firmly.
"See, it's like this, Ginny-girl," he said without preamble, using the pet name he'd given her the first day he'd met her. "I know I'm older, an' I didn' graduate from a fine school like Hogwarts, an' all, but I like you, a lot! I wanted you to know that before you leave."
Ginny stared up into his plain face in wonder. He liked her? He hadn't said a word before. "And you're telling me on the last day I see you because why?" she demanded, twining her fingers with his.
He looked startled. "You mean, you don' mind? A pretty girl like you, an' you don' mind that I'm not good lookin' and all?"
Snatching her hand back, Ginny frowned. "Oh, well, that's different," she snapped. "You didn't say you liked my looks. Here I thought it was the girl inside you liked."
"Aw, Ginny-girl, don't!" he pleaded. "'Course it's you I like. I jus' thought you wouldn't be interested."
"Bob," Ginny said, taking his hand again, "I like you too, and it doesn't have anything to do with the way you look! You treated me like a person, not a customer. You listened to me bleating about my horrible life, and you've been a friend. Why wouldn't I like you? I mean, we don't know each other all that well, but I still like you."
He smiled then, and the smile lit his face. He wasn't homely or plain now. Leaning forward tentatively, he said, "You never bleat, Ginny-girl. An' I like listenin' to you. Do you think we know each other well enough for me to kiss you good-bye?"
Smiling, Ginny nodded. "I think we know each other well enough for a small kiss," she agreed.
Luckily the shop was empty. Bob bent his head down and touched his lips to hers. Ginny leaned up and pressed closer, thinking how pleasantly he kissed. A moment later he straightened. Opening her eyes, Ginny smiled at him. Bob's face was suddenly very serious, making Ginny wonder if her toothpaste or deodorant had failed her.
"I won't see you again," he said, his voice strange.
"At least not until summer," Ginny agreed.
"I won't be here in the summer. You're a special girl, Ginny Weasley. And if the prat at school can't see it, it's his loss. Just remember that."
As Ginny walked down the dark, cold lane toward the twins' home she realized two things: First, Bob was right. If Malfoy couldn't see that their friendship had been a good thing, it was his bloody loss. The second was less pleasant. She hadn't touched her Herbology homework.