Salamander Scales chapter 8: Sea Fricassée
Author: Yama Strife
Rating: PG for pre-slash and an occasional swear word.
I Apologize! This chapter was supposed to be twice as long, but due to time restraints I've turned it into two chapters. The other chapter will be posted tomorrow. I'm sorry!
I know there have been like 5 chapters about one day, and I started to think that maybe I was moving the plot along a little too slowly. Let me know what you think and if that's the case, then I'll do like, a whole week in a chapter, and try and get this fic over and done with within a couple more chapters. I don't want to start boring anyone.
I'm sorry about any inconsistencies with the canon, namely the train station, and Diagon Alley, but in order for me to cover up stupid mistakes I made in previous chapters, and to make the chapter work I had to write it the way I did. Hope it doesn't make it too hard to read _
````````````````````` Harry thought Draco was maybe a little too enthusiastic as he found himself back in their room 15 minutes later.
"Good idea that was," Harry complained. "Going all the way outside and forgetting it was freezing out there." He sighed as he shuffled through his wardrobe looking for a warmer cloak and some gloves.
Harry was pulling a cloak off the hanger when a voice piped up. "Oh shut it, Potter. I'm trying to help you here." He pulled on some grey gloves and continued. "It isn't my fault you're fashion impaired. You're lucky to have me here to get you out of this textile despair."
Harry's selective hearing kicked in here and he missed those last comments. "And you forgot we have to floo to the station anyway. Remember, we took a train here. Diagon alley is pretty far away."
Draco sneered and replied with a swish of his cloak as he made his way to the fireplace. "You're the one who willingly followed me all the way to the front doors, Potter." And taking a handful of the powder in the tin beside the fireplace he said, "So don't criticize my memory." He made as though to throw the powder in the fireplace the stopped to remark, "Hurry up, and stop looking for your scarf, it's in the pocket of your coat." He threw the floo powder into the fireplace, said, "Diagon Alley," and was lost in the green flames.
Harry, realizing that Malfoy was indeed correct, but not knowing how he knew he was looking for his scarf, felt quite foolish. He strode toward the fireplace and noticed a familiar twinge in his chest. "Not this again," he said. "I'd best hurry up before it gets any worse." He removed his right glove so he wouldn't get floo powder on it. He was still a little leery about the whole floo powder business, but he wouldn't chicken out and look more foolish than he already did. He could just imagine the superior look Malfoy would have if he had to come back because Harry was afraid of travelling by fireplace. This thought gave him new motivation and he threw the powder, said, "Diagon Alley" as clearly as he could and stepped into the fire before he changed his mind.
He felt the green flames lick at his body before he was swirling about in a big haze. He saw his grate and as carefully as he could manage he stepped out and into a room resembling something of a train station.
He looked around the dull room, grey and boring and thought Dumbledore ought to have a go at this place. Harry could guarantee it would certainly look more interesting. Harry continued to gaze around the room until he noticed a pale blonde head. Malfoy was sitting in one of the stiff plastic chairs, legs crossed looking impatient and the ache in his chest seemed to subside somewhat.
Harry made his way toward the other boy. Malfoy head snapped up and looked in Harry's direction. He stood up in a single fluid motion and began to tap his foot as he waited for Harry to reach him. "What took you so long Potter?' He looked at a clock on the wall. "It took you ages to get here, and I hate being kept waiting," he said as he glared at Harry.
Harry couldn't believe Malfoy sometimes. He was such a prat; he had barely been two minutes! "I'll keep you waiting if I want Malfoy," he said scathingly. "I'm not your servant, or someone to be ordered around when you see fit." Harry crossed his arms in what he hoped was a threatening manner. "You'd best remember that," he added in an angry whisper.
Malfoy, as usual, did not provide Harry with the reaction he was hoping for. He burst into laughter. "What do you think you'll do Potter? Lose your scarf at me?" He pretended to be scared as he said in a quivering voice, "No, please! Find the scarf! I can't take it anymore!" Malfoy wiped at the tears of mirth forming in his eyes. "You are a character, aren't you Potter?"
Harry couldn't help but smile a bit at the thought of Malfoy quaking in fear at the thought of a lost scarf, despite his attempt to appear angry.
As they made their way past the many people in the station, through the front doors and into the street, Harry realized he didn't know of any muggle clothing shops here in Diagon Alley. He was going to ask Malfoy where they were, but he never got the chance. Malfoy looked around as though considering some life or death situation. He clapped his hands together as he came to the fateful revelation and said, "Alright then. Lunch first, then clothes."
Harry would've been lying if he had told you he wasn't shocked. He barely ever saw Malfoy eat in the Great Hall, and he hadn't eaten breakfast this morning. Now he had this sudden interest in food? Harry slapped a hand to his forehead. He figured that if Malfoy was studied for years by millions of scientists they'd still never figure him out.
The Gryffindor boy was staring blankly while thinking over the idea of Malfoy the complete enigma when Malfoy snapped his fingers and raised an eyebrow at Harry's expression. "You know, Potter. I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this, but just opening your mouth and staring like that won't make the food fly in."
Harry shook his head a bit to clear his head, and he felt his face flush, but it went unnoticed because of the rosy tinge already present on his cheeks from the cold.
Harry realized as they walked to the nearest restaurant that he had to go to Gringott's because he didn't have much money on him. He interrupted Malfoy's ramblings about how much money and power he had, and whatever else he was on about. "Malfoy, I'd forgotten I have to go to the bank. I haven't got much money with me."
Harry expected criticism or some sort of joke about his incompetence. However, what he did not expect was Malfoy to wave this away with such nonchalance and say, "It's fine, I'll pay for lunch."
Harry would've gone into apoplectic shock had he not been seriously suspicious. He raised an eyebrow and said, "What, so you'll say 'order whatever' and then when we get the bill, run out of the store and leave me to wash dishes because I can't pay?"
As they arrived at the restaurant Malfoy paused in front of the door and said, "That's a good idea Potter. I wasn't even thinking of that, but now I might just have to." He received a disapproving look from Harry and said in return, "I was only joking Potter. After you get money I just expect you to buy me loads of ice cream, that's all." Harry could've sworn he heard something that sounded like a stifled giggle but he ignored it and entered the restaurant in tow of Malfoy.
They hung up their coats, on a rack beside the door smiling in relief at leaving the cold behind and walked toward the counter. Harry couldn't help but say, "Ice cream? But it's freezing outside!"
Malfoy raised a fine blond eyebrow at Harry. "Freezing? This is just a hunch I've got, correct me if I'm wrong, but could that be the reason we were wearing those ensembles?" He pointed at the coats hanging on the coat rack.
Harry couldn't believe how easily the sarcasm just rolled off his tongue. He would later come to find this an endearing (if you could call it that) characteristic but now he just found it tiresome.
A woman sat them at a table near a window and gave them some menus. Harry looked around the restaurant feeling quite impressed. It was a large place; wood paneling, expensive lighting and beautiful furniture. But all the same he said to Malfoy, "When you said lunch I was expecting, like, a burger or something. Not a first class restaurant."
Draco looked taken aback. "Where else would you eat but at Warlingham's? It's the most prestigious establishment in the area. Surely you don't expect me to eat at some little diner with drafty windows, dirty floors and mice all about the place?" For a moment Draco looked as though he had almost lost his appetite. Almost, but not quite. "Anyway," he continued. "Order whatever you like. I just expect the best damn sundae in return." He opened his menu and was lost behind it.
Harry shook his head in confusion. He didn't know what was going on, so instead of thinking about it he opened his menu and concentrated on that. In fact, he had to concentrate because practically the whole menu was written in French. The last thing he wanted to order was octopus or pig liver. Where was a McDonald's when you needed it?
The waitress returned then and interrupted the two with a small cough. "Excuse me sirs. My name is Shannon and I will be here to serve you this afternoon. Can I get you a drink?"
Draco looked from his menu to say "Coffee, black." Before emerging himself behind his menu again.
"Er- lemon tea please. No cream, but lots of sugar please." Harry smiled at her, "Thanks very much." The waitress nodded and walked away.
Draco looked up from behind his menu at Harry with a bemused expression on his face. "You know what you're problem is, Potter?" he asked finally. Harry sat motionless, not knowing what to expect next. "You are far to nice to people when it is completely unnecessary." Harry made a sound as though to disagree, but Draco sat down his menu on the table and continued. "I mean, I have perfect manners and it's fine to be polite but you don't need to be so, so.nice and smiley about it. Did you get hit too many times with a friendly stick as an infant?"
Harry didn't see a problem with being nice. He shrugged his shoulders and said simply, "Treat others the way you want to be treated."
"You never had that attitude with me Potter, what happened there?" He tried to look indifferent about it, but Harry thought he might have been insulted.
"You never really gave me much of a chance Malfoy, did you?"
Draco was going to argue that point but Shannon returned with the drinks. "Are you ready to order yet sirs?" She asked as she set down the drinks.
"Of course." Draco replied. "I'll have the 'Terrine de Filet de Sole' and then the 'Emincé de Volaille sauce Roquefort'." He folded his menu and handed it to Shannon. "Thank you," he said pointedly, looking directly at Harry as though proving a point.
Harry brushed his hair out of his eyes and coughed, not noticing Shannon's eyes widen as she caught a glimpse of his forehead. "I'll have the, um." He stopped and his nose wrinkled in concentration.
Draco smiled at Harry's predicament and cut in quickly (deciding to tease him about it later), "My companion will be having 'Soupe à l'Oignon gratinée' to start with and 'Fricassée de Mer et sa Julienne de légumes' for his main course."
Harry handed his menu to Shannon a slight blush on his face and said, "Right, thank you."
Shannon, just having realized she was serving The-Boy-Who-Lived, took the menu and held it to her chest as though it was a priceless artifact. She walked off in a daze muttering; "Harry Potter knows my name." She was surely going to rush to tell her friends who she had just served.
Harry shook his head in disbelief. "Honestly, people can be so stupid sometimes. I don't understand the big deal." He took a sip of his tea.
"I don't understand the big deal either. You're just a nice, cute boy who happened to get a big ugly scar on your head." Then, noticing Harry drinking he added, "She's going to keep that mug and use the DNA to clone you, you know."
Harry disregarded the first comment about the scar and continued to drink. "Would it surprise you if I told you I'd heard that cloning bit before?" Malfoy certainly did not look surprised and Harry was sick of talking about himself so he changed the subject. "How can you drink that stuff straight Malfoy?" He wrinkled his nose in distaste.
Draco waved this comment away. "I need coffee to survive. It doesn't taste bad, have you even tried it before?"
Harry informed him that he had indeed tried coffee when he was younger, and Draco thought this was the problem. His reasoning was that Harry hadn't developed a sophisticated palate at that age. "Try it now, I'm sure you won't have a bad thing to say about it." Draco pushed his cup across the table toward Harry. "Go on, take a sip, it's quite good."
Harry once again questioned Draco's motives. He gave him a disbelieving look but took a sip anyway. It certainly smelled much better than it tasted. It was far too hot, and incredibly bitter. "I'll stick to tea thanks," he said simply.
Draco shrugged and took the cup back. He was just glad he didn't have to share it anymore. Coffee was his lifeblood, the more for him the better.
Shannon was approaching the table again with their lunch and saw this exchange take place. She looked as though she had visibly deflated. The boys were chatting and smiling and sharing drinks. She then decided to herself that they were obviously together. Why were all the good ones taken? And in Harry's case -as far as Shannon could tell- gay?
She smiled weakly as she reached the table, "Your lunch sirs," she said as she set down the plates in front of the boys. "Would you like a refill sir?" She asked Draco, noticing his nearly empty mug.
"May as well bring the whole pot. You'll save yourself a few trips," Malfoy said honestly.
Shannon departed once again to report to her friends that not only was it definitely Harry Potter, but he had a cute boyfriend with him. The waitress doubted that the blonde would drink all that coffee. She figured he was hinting at her that they didn't want any more disturbances. She sighed, visibly slouched and disappeared behind the kitchen doors.
Harry meanwhile, not knowing anything about the rumor spreading in the kitchen, looked at his plate. "So just what is all this stuff that we're eating?" he asked. "Or is it better that I don't know?" He poked at something that looked like chicken with his fork.
Draco smirked in the superior sort of way. "It's octopus and pig intestines," he said, noticing Harry pale considerably. "Oh come on Potter, do you think I'd put my stomach through that?"
"You'd do it to spite me," Harry replied, losing his appetite.
"Well, I didn't know you couldn't read French, Potter. If you wanted octopus you would be better off at a sushi bar, so stop worrying."
Harry shook his head. "I've never been in a restaurant this fancy before. The muggles I grew up with fed me stale bread and cheese while I lived in a cupboard for eleven years."
Malfoy's eyes widened a fraction. He knew Potter grew up with muggles but he figured they worshipped him, like all the other people did. "Is that why you're the seriously disturbed individual that you are today?"
Harry smiled. "I don't really talk about my Aunt and Uncle that much. I wouldn't even wish my 'family' on you, Malfoy." He formed his fingers into quotes when he said family to show just how much he hated it there.
"Well, my childhood wasn't all sunshine and rainbows either, Potter." At Harry's inquiring look he shrugged and said, "That's another story for another day Potter. Eat up, I assure you, it won't taste very good cold."
Harry decided he would take Draco's word for it, as he had done so many times that day; surprising even himself, and tried the food placed in front of him. It wasn't as bad as he thought it would be, in fact, it was all quite good. He understood why it was such a distinguished restaurant.
After they had finished eating over some idle small talk, Harry decided to find out what it was he had just ingested. Gryffindor bravery and all that.
"Truth be told," Malfoy said. "It was Sea Fricassée on thinly shredded vegetables, and the entrée was Onion soup "au gratin". That's not so bad it is?"
"Check, please." Harry said weakly.
All Malfoy could do in response to this was shake his head.
When they received the bill Harry almost fell out of his chair. Written on the small piece of paper was '30 galleons and 14 sickles'. "You intend on paying all of that Malfoy? It's highway robbery!" He stared at the price in utter disbelief.
"Pshaw." Draco said, waving his hand. "This is nothing, don't worry about it." Out of his back pocket his pulled a small thing resembling a chequebook. They walked to the counter near the door and he filled out the paper with a self-inking quill located on a nearby desk and handed it to the man at the counter.
"Thank you for your business," said the pompous looking fellow. The companions put on their jackets, gloves and scarves and walked out the door into the frigid air.
```````````````````````````
Part 2 of chapter 8 tomorrow (I hope!) Please check back soon! Reviews, compliments and criticism is always appreciated. Thank you!
I Apologize! This chapter was supposed to be twice as long, but due to time restraints I've turned it into two chapters. The other chapter will be posted tomorrow. I'm sorry!
I know there have been like 5 chapters about one day, and I started to think that maybe I was moving the plot along a little too slowly. Let me know what you think and if that's the case, then I'll do like, a whole week in a chapter, and try and get this fic over and done with within a couple more chapters. I don't want to start boring anyone.
I'm sorry about any inconsistencies with the canon, namely the train station, and Diagon Alley, but in order for me to cover up stupid mistakes I made in previous chapters, and to make the chapter work I had to write it the way I did. Hope it doesn't make it too hard to read _
````````````````````` Harry thought Draco was maybe a little too enthusiastic as he found himself back in their room 15 minutes later.
"Good idea that was," Harry complained. "Going all the way outside and forgetting it was freezing out there." He sighed as he shuffled through his wardrobe looking for a warmer cloak and some gloves.
Harry was pulling a cloak off the hanger when a voice piped up. "Oh shut it, Potter. I'm trying to help you here." He pulled on some grey gloves and continued. "It isn't my fault you're fashion impaired. You're lucky to have me here to get you out of this textile despair."
Harry's selective hearing kicked in here and he missed those last comments. "And you forgot we have to floo to the station anyway. Remember, we took a train here. Diagon alley is pretty far away."
Draco sneered and replied with a swish of his cloak as he made his way to the fireplace. "You're the one who willingly followed me all the way to the front doors, Potter." And taking a handful of the powder in the tin beside the fireplace he said, "So don't criticize my memory." He made as though to throw the powder in the fireplace the stopped to remark, "Hurry up, and stop looking for your scarf, it's in the pocket of your coat." He threw the floo powder into the fireplace, said, "Diagon Alley," and was lost in the green flames.
Harry, realizing that Malfoy was indeed correct, but not knowing how he knew he was looking for his scarf, felt quite foolish. He strode toward the fireplace and noticed a familiar twinge in his chest. "Not this again," he said. "I'd best hurry up before it gets any worse." He removed his right glove so he wouldn't get floo powder on it. He was still a little leery about the whole floo powder business, but he wouldn't chicken out and look more foolish than he already did. He could just imagine the superior look Malfoy would have if he had to come back because Harry was afraid of travelling by fireplace. This thought gave him new motivation and he threw the powder, said, "Diagon Alley" as clearly as he could and stepped into the fire before he changed his mind.
He felt the green flames lick at his body before he was swirling about in a big haze. He saw his grate and as carefully as he could manage he stepped out and into a room resembling something of a train station.
He looked around the dull room, grey and boring and thought Dumbledore ought to have a go at this place. Harry could guarantee it would certainly look more interesting. Harry continued to gaze around the room until he noticed a pale blonde head. Malfoy was sitting in one of the stiff plastic chairs, legs crossed looking impatient and the ache in his chest seemed to subside somewhat.
Harry made his way toward the other boy. Malfoy head snapped up and looked in Harry's direction. He stood up in a single fluid motion and began to tap his foot as he waited for Harry to reach him. "What took you so long Potter?' He looked at a clock on the wall. "It took you ages to get here, and I hate being kept waiting," he said as he glared at Harry.
Harry couldn't believe Malfoy sometimes. He was such a prat; he had barely been two minutes! "I'll keep you waiting if I want Malfoy," he said scathingly. "I'm not your servant, or someone to be ordered around when you see fit." Harry crossed his arms in what he hoped was a threatening manner. "You'd best remember that," he added in an angry whisper.
Malfoy, as usual, did not provide Harry with the reaction he was hoping for. He burst into laughter. "What do you think you'll do Potter? Lose your scarf at me?" He pretended to be scared as he said in a quivering voice, "No, please! Find the scarf! I can't take it anymore!" Malfoy wiped at the tears of mirth forming in his eyes. "You are a character, aren't you Potter?"
Harry couldn't help but smile a bit at the thought of Malfoy quaking in fear at the thought of a lost scarf, despite his attempt to appear angry.
As they made their way past the many people in the station, through the front doors and into the street, Harry realized he didn't know of any muggle clothing shops here in Diagon Alley. He was going to ask Malfoy where they were, but he never got the chance. Malfoy looked around as though considering some life or death situation. He clapped his hands together as he came to the fateful revelation and said, "Alright then. Lunch first, then clothes."
Harry would've been lying if he had told you he wasn't shocked. He barely ever saw Malfoy eat in the Great Hall, and he hadn't eaten breakfast this morning. Now he had this sudden interest in food? Harry slapped a hand to his forehead. He figured that if Malfoy was studied for years by millions of scientists they'd still never figure him out.
The Gryffindor boy was staring blankly while thinking over the idea of Malfoy the complete enigma when Malfoy snapped his fingers and raised an eyebrow at Harry's expression. "You know, Potter. I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this, but just opening your mouth and staring like that won't make the food fly in."
Harry shook his head a bit to clear his head, and he felt his face flush, but it went unnoticed because of the rosy tinge already present on his cheeks from the cold.
Harry realized as they walked to the nearest restaurant that he had to go to Gringott's because he didn't have much money on him. He interrupted Malfoy's ramblings about how much money and power he had, and whatever else he was on about. "Malfoy, I'd forgotten I have to go to the bank. I haven't got much money with me."
Harry expected criticism or some sort of joke about his incompetence. However, what he did not expect was Malfoy to wave this away with such nonchalance and say, "It's fine, I'll pay for lunch."
Harry would've gone into apoplectic shock had he not been seriously suspicious. He raised an eyebrow and said, "What, so you'll say 'order whatever' and then when we get the bill, run out of the store and leave me to wash dishes because I can't pay?"
As they arrived at the restaurant Malfoy paused in front of the door and said, "That's a good idea Potter. I wasn't even thinking of that, but now I might just have to." He received a disapproving look from Harry and said in return, "I was only joking Potter. After you get money I just expect you to buy me loads of ice cream, that's all." Harry could've sworn he heard something that sounded like a stifled giggle but he ignored it and entered the restaurant in tow of Malfoy.
They hung up their coats, on a rack beside the door smiling in relief at leaving the cold behind and walked toward the counter. Harry couldn't help but say, "Ice cream? But it's freezing outside!"
Malfoy raised a fine blond eyebrow at Harry. "Freezing? This is just a hunch I've got, correct me if I'm wrong, but could that be the reason we were wearing those ensembles?" He pointed at the coats hanging on the coat rack.
Harry couldn't believe how easily the sarcasm just rolled off his tongue. He would later come to find this an endearing (if you could call it that) characteristic but now he just found it tiresome.
A woman sat them at a table near a window and gave them some menus. Harry looked around the restaurant feeling quite impressed. It was a large place; wood paneling, expensive lighting and beautiful furniture. But all the same he said to Malfoy, "When you said lunch I was expecting, like, a burger or something. Not a first class restaurant."
Draco looked taken aback. "Where else would you eat but at Warlingham's? It's the most prestigious establishment in the area. Surely you don't expect me to eat at some little diner with drafty windows, dirty floors and mice all about the place?" For a moment Draco looked as though he had almost lost his appetite. Almost, but not quite. "Anyway," he continued. "Order whatever you like. I just expect the best damn sundae in return." He opened his menu and was lost behind it.
Harry shook his head in confusion. He didn't know what was going on, so instead of thinking about it he opened his menu and concentrated on that. In fact, he had to concentrate because practically the whole menu was written in French. The last thing he wanted to order was octopus or pig liver. Where was a McDonald's when you needed it?
The waitress returned then and interrupted the two with a small cough. "Excuse me sirs. My name is Shannon and I will be here to serve you this afternoon. Can I get you a drink?"
Draco looked from his menu to say "Coffee, black." Before emerging himself behind his menu again.
"Er- lemon tea please. No cream, but lots of sugar please." Harry smiled at her, "Thanks very much." The waitress nodded and walked away.
Draco looked up from behind his menu at Harry with a bemused expression on his face. "You know what you're problem is, Potter?" he asked finally. Harry sat motionless, not knowing what to expect next. "You are far to nice to people when it is completely unnecessary." Harry made a sound as though to disagree, but Draco sat down his menu on the table and continued. "I mean, I have perfect manners and it's fine to be polite but you don't need to be so, so.nice and smiley about it. Did you get hit too many times with a friendly stick as an infant?"
Harry didn't see a problem with being nice. He shrugged his shoulders and said simply, "Treat others the way you want to be treated."
"You never had that attitude with me Potter, what happened there?" He tried to look indifferent about it, but Harry thought he might have been insulted.
"You never really gave me much of a chance Malfoy, did you?"
Draco was going to argue that point but Shannon returned with the drinks. "Are you ready to order yet sirs?" She asked as she set down the drinks.
"Of course." Draco replied. "I'll have the 'Terrine de Filet de Sole' and then the 'Emincé de Volaille sauce Roquefort'." He folded his menu and handed it to Shannon. "Thank you," he said pointedly, looking directly at Harry as though proving a point.
Harry brushed his hair out of his eyes and coughed, not noticing Shannon's eyes widen as she caught a glimpse of his forehead. "I'll have the, um." He stopped and his nose wrinkled in concentration.
Draco smiled at Harry's predicament and cut in quickly (deciding to tease him about it later), "My companion will be having 'Soupe à l'Oignon gratinée' to start with and 'Fricassée de Mer et sa Julienne de légumes' for his main course."
Harry handed his menu to Shannon a slight blush on his face and said, "Right, thank you."
Shannon, just having realized she was serving The-Boy-Who-Lived, took the menu and held it to her chest as though it was a priceless artifact. She walked off in a daze muttering; "Harry Potter knows my name." She was surely going to rush to tell her friends who she had just served.
Harry shook his head in disbelief. "Honestly, people can be so stupid sometimes. I don't understand the big deal." He took a sip of his tea.
"I don't understand the big deal either. You're just a nice, cute boy who happened to get a big ugly scar on your head." Then, noticing Harry drinking he added, "She's going to keep that mug and use the DNA to clone you, you know."
Harry disregarded the first comment about the scar and continued to drink. "Would it surprise you if I told you I'd heard that cloning bit before?" Malfoy certainly did not look surprised and Harry was sick of talking about himself so he changed the subject. "How can you drink that stuff straight Malfoy?" He wrinkled his nose in distaste.
Draco waved this comment away. "I need coffee to survive. It doesn't taste bad, have you even tried it before?"
Harry informed him that he had indeed tried coffee when he was younger, and Draco thought this was the problem. His reasoning was that Harry hadn't developed a sophisticated palate at that age. "Try it now, I'm sure you won't have a bad thing to say about it." Draco pushed his cup across the table toward Harry. "Go on, take a sip, it's quite good."
Harry once again questioned Draco's motives. He gave him a disbelieving look but took a sip anyway. It certainly smelled much better than it tasted. It was far too hot, and incredibly bitter. "I'll stick to tea thanks," he said simply.
Draco shrugged and took the cup back. He was just glad he didn't have to share it anymore. Coffee was his lifeblood, the more for him the better.
Shannon was approaching the table again with their lunch and saw this exchange take place. She looked as though she had visibly deflated. The boys were chatting and smiling and sharing drinks. She then decided to herself that they were obviously together. Why were all the good ones taken? And in Harry's case -as far as Shannon could tell- gay?
She smiled weakly as she reached the table, "Your lunch sirs," she said as she set down the plates in front of the boys. "Would you like a refill sir?" She asked Draco, noticing his nearly empty mug.
"May as well bring the whole pot. You'll save yourself a few trips," Malfoy said honestly.
Shannon departed once again to report to her friends that not only was it definitely Harry Potter, but he had a cute boyfriend with him. The waitress doubted that the blonde would drink all that coffee. She figured he was hinting at her that they didn't want any more disturbances. She sighed, visibly slouched and disappeared behind the kitchen doors.
Harry meanwhile, not knowing anything about the rumor spreading in the kitchen, looked at his plate. "So just what is all this stuff that we're eating?" he asked. "Or is it better that I don't know?" He poked at something that looked like chicken with his fork.
Draco smirked in the superior sort of way. "It's octopus and pig intestines," he said, noticing Harry pale considerably. "Oh come on Potter, do you think I'd put my stomach through that?"
"You'd do it to spite me," Harry replied, losing his appetite.
"Well, I didn't know you couldn't read French, Potter. If you wanted octopus you would be better off at a sushi bar, so stop worrying."
Harry shook his head. "I've never been in a restaurant this fancy before. The muggles I grew up with fed me stale bread and cheese while I lived in a cupboard for eleven years."
Malfoy's eyes widened a fraction. He knew Potter grew up with muggles but he figured they worshipped him, like all the other people did. "Is that why you're the seriously disturbed individual that you are today?"
Harry smiled. "I don't really talk about my Aunt and Uncle that much. I wouldn't even wish my 'family' on you, Malfoy." He formed his fingers into quotes when he said family to show just how much he hated it there.
"Well, my childhood wasn't all sunshine and rainbows either, Potter." At Harry's inquiring look he shrugged and said, "That's another story for another day Potter. Eat up, I assure you, it won't taste very good cold."
Harry decided he would take Draco's word for it, as he had done so many times that day; surprising even himself, and tried the food placed in front of him. It wasn't as bad as he thought it would be, in fact, it was all quite good. He understood why it was such a distinguished restaurant.
After they had finished eating over some idle small talk, Harry decided to find out what it was he had just ingested. Gryffindor bravery and all that.
"Truth be told," Malfoy said. "It was Sea Fricassée on thinly shredded vegetables, and the entrée was Onion soup "au gratin". That's not so bad it is?"
"Check, please." Harry said weakly.
All Malfoy could do in response to this was shake his head.
When they received the bill Harry almost fell out of his chair. Written on the small piece of paper was '30 galleons and 14 sickles'. "You intend on paying all of that Malfoy? It's highway robbery!" He stared at the price in utter disbelief.
"Pshaw." Draco said, waving his hand. "This is nothing, don't worry about it." Out of his back pocket his pulled a small thing resembling a chequebook. They walked to the counter near the door and he filled out the paper with a self-inking quill located on a nearby desk and handed it to the man at the counter.
"Thank you for your business," said the pompous looking fellow. The companions put on their jackets, gloves and scarves and walked out the door into the frigid air.
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Part 2 of chapter 8 tomorrow (I hope!) Please check back soon! Reviews, compliments and criticism is always appreciated. Thank you!