Disclaimer: I don't own anything Harry Potter or anything relating to Harry Potter...
Rosie's P.O.V.
Okay, I am still sorry for messing up there, but now I've got a plan for this chapter. Kind of exciting, but not really. But it IS short, like I mentioned before! Wow! Anyways, hope it turns out, and ... enjoy!
The Black Rose
Chapter Nine: Talking Under The Table
Fuck Dennis. Fuck him and his job. A snowflake landed on my nose. Most of all fuck the snow. "Hey sunshine," Dennis said with sarcasm dripping from his speech.
"Hey guy-who-likes-to-keep-girls-waiting," I said.
"Well, frozen treats were my favorite. Is he still in there?" he asked, referring to his boss.
"Yeah, yeah," I muttered crossing my arms.
I used the oven mitts to keep my hands warm. "I'll be right back... I like the mitts," he said, with a slight smile.
He opened the store door and walked in. I hoped he could tell I was mad. I brushed some snow off my bag. It was going to be a very long winter. Dennis' head poked out of the door. "He's gone, come on in," he smiled.
"Thanks," I said and walked in.
At least it was warm. He pulled out the extra chair. "A chair for the lady?" he smiled.
I grabbed it from him and tried to muster a glare. His lip glinted silver. "Did you get your lip pierced?" I asked.
He nodded with a smile. A small ring cut through the skin below the middle of his lip. "I got it done yesterday," he said.
I liked it, but I reminded myself to stay mad. "Instead of working the late shift?" I raised an eyebrow suspiciously.
I sat down and crossed my arms. He kneeled down and looked up at me with big brown eyes. "I'm sorry," he said. "There was this girl... and she said we could get lip rings together... and... well," he smiled sheepishly. "She walked out before she paid."
"Ah, thinking with something lower than your brain?" I asked.
He rolled his eyes. "I'm a guy, obviously I am. But if you noted the last part of my statement, you'd realize that I've already been punished for ditching you. Therefore, you have to be nice to me again," he beamed with pride.
"Fine," I said, sticking out my tongue.
The bell went off as someone entered the room. I glanced through Dennis' stretched earlobes. A tall man glanced around the store. He was wearing a long green jacket, which looked almost like silk. He had platinum blonde hair and gray eyes. Dennis stood up. "Can I help you?" he smiled lightly at the newcomer.
The man raised an eyebrow at me, and then spoke. "I'm looking for a special broomstick. It's for my son," he said.
His voice was as elegant as the clothes he was wearing. "I'll go into the back and find it," he said and winked at the man.
I was left alone, with what seemed to be, a normal man that wore very nice clothes. Not what normal people wear, but maybe he was making a statement. "Are those your roses?" he asked, pointing to my bag.
"Yes," I blushed bashfully.
I had put them back in. I wanted to ask Draco about them. "The man must be quite a charmer," he winked.
I smiled. "All in the vase," I said, repeating what the massive fuzzy man had told me. "How, exactly, did you know it was given to me?"
He laughed lightly. "You turned red," he said.
Dennis walked back into the room. He was holding onto a white broomstick with black bristles. "This is it, right?" he asked.
The man seemed frustrated. He gripped something tightly in his hand. His eyebrows lowered into a glare. "No, no, no! I ordered it in! Check under Malfoy! Get it right this time," he said and banged one of his fists against the counter.
He looked back to me. Malfoy? I guessed he was related to Draco, but decided against bringing it up. He unfolded the object on his hand. It was a hat that matched the jacket. It was rather humorous, but I forced myself not to laugh. He kept looking at me. Was he checking me out? No, no. "Have we met before?" he asked.
I looked away. He probably had seen me before, on the bench. "I don't think so," I said.
I tried to keep my head a bit lower. Dennis came back in. This broom was pure black. "That's right," the man exclaimed. "Thank you," he said, with a small amount of sarcasm.
The man handed Dennis a small bag. He looked at me once again. "I'm glad I wasn't too much of a burden," Dennis muttered.
"I remember you!" the man pointed at me, with too much glee. He laughed. Dennis looked at me and widened his eyes. I shrugged. "The museum! You were with Arthur Malfoy and his son. I was there one day," he said. He laughed again. "The fool thought you were a muggle!" he said and walked from the store.
Dennis quickly looked away from me with a whistle. I stood up and stomped my foot passionately. "Dammit, now you HAVE to tell me what the word means," I said.
He ran his hand quickly over his slick black hair. "I can't. You don't understand," he said, nervously. His eyes lit for a moment. "Draco can!"
"What?"
"Draco. You know that jerk you're seeing? He can explain it!" he said.
"Jerk?" I asked.
"Well, his family isn't known for being nice," he said.
"So the man in the store was?" I questioned.
"His father," he said.
I sat down and crossed my arms. "He has a LOT of explaining to do when he shows up," I said.
Dennis played with some melted snow on the counter top. "I... have some explaining to do as well," he sighed. "Are you ready for this?"