Coffee
Disclaimer: You know.
After the first two days that he was there, she was surprised how well he fitted into her little business. As sweet and charming as he ever could be, yet sometimes dangerous, he fitted in perfectly. Yet you always felt like he didn't fit in. And he didn't- though she hired him, she didn't accept him. Neither she nor Ginny. Really, if looks could kill, Draco Malfoy would have died under the furious glances of Mrs. Potter. Sometimes hers too. A look, she knew, was hard to get you into jail.
Until the day of the coffee shop.
It was raining cats and dogs that lunchtime. She wasn't really happy, since she didn't like when it rained cats and dogs. Light, soft and misty rain was better suited to her tastes. But it was raining cats and dogs, so when her one o' clock lunch came, she ditched her paperwork that she had been checking, and pushed in her computer desk-she was looking for gems to bring in with the arrival of summer, two months from now.
She pushed in her computer desk and took up her umbrella, and got herself across without getting too wet. Just a little bit. Her shoes were wet, but that was all.
She pushed open the wet glass door of Le Café, looking longingly in through the large windows at the crazy little shop. Inside smelled like all blends of coffee, which she liked. Such a sweet aroma, with gorgeous hints of fruit tea. The smell surrounded her and she paused for a second just to inhale that scent. Then she took in the shop.
The little shop was white, with lots of coffee cup stencils all over the walls, and pictures of famous landmarks as well, such as the Eiffel Tower, and the Leaning Tower of Pisa. The tables were small and circular, each with a small tea light on them. The woman at the counter nodded at her and without asking gave her a cup of black coffee, steaming hot in a little white mug, and a couple of delicious looking sandwiches. She smiled gratefully, paid her and found her way across to the little table in the corner of the shop that always hid her completely, since there was a little glass shelf that hid her from most people's sight. That was what she wanted.
From what she could see the usual crowd was there, people who worked all around, and a couple of her own staff members on lunch break. Laura was sitting with Kevyn again, laughing at own of his jokes. Laura was the woman that made Kevyn react. She was one of the people that got along with everyone. She sipped her coffee and sat back, her eyes half closed and half asleep, knowing that in about an hour her lunch break was over. But why shouldn't she enjoy it . . .?
Then, all of a sudden, she heard in the midst of the bustling around her a voice.
"Miss Granger, may I sit here?"
She sat bolt upright, from her relaxed position and flicked her eyes open. Of course, she knew it was Malfoy. Of course he knew he had startled her. And darn him, how did he find this corner?
"Of course," was what she said
"The lady at the front told me that everywhere was full, then she said that there was just one more spot. You mind?" he asked as he sat down in the seat opposite her with his own coffee. The sudden appearance of coffee reminded her that she hadn't had any of her own coffee. Not much anyway.
She had some.
"So how on earth did you guess . . . well, where the spot was?" she asked.
He chuckled. "Easy. Spotted your hands on the glass wall, I'll guess that you were stretching?"
She blinked and nodded, after having some more of her own very hot black coffee.
"This is a nice place to go, especially if you are soaking wet. Dries you out nicely."
She noticed for the first time that the man opposite her had soaking wet hair, and that he was drenched from head to toe. "Rain hasn't cleared up?"
"No, Miss Granger. It has not, and I . . ." he shrugged, and she saw him swallow pride, "don't have an umbrella. Or a raincoat. Or anything, actually." He smiled rather wickedly, then said, "I'm sorry if I'm dripping on your Louis Vuitton shoes."
She smiled. "They're not Louis Vuitton. They're Chanel."
He shrugged. "I stand corrected." He drawled the words.
It seemed that he was in a more talkative mood than usual, even if he was still the same arrogant Malfoy. You could see it in his every move, and in his stillness, you could see that Malfoy ness bred into him. He lay there occasionally tasting his black coffee, and then he asked her.
"How often do you come in here and hide Miss Granger?"
Her eyes narrowed, mere narrowing and said "What do you mean 'hide'? I am not hiding." Yet she was . . .she was always hiding . . .from the world, so that they could not see her. She spoke so much lies.
"Yes, you are Hermione. I can see that you're lying, though I must say that you are a good liar." His eyes laughed as she sat bolt upright.
"I am not a liar, and certainly not a good one."
He smiled, and then he told her sweetly, "If you say so . . .Hermione."
She rolled her eyes and let it go. He wasn't worth it . . .though he was the best person she had ever come up against in an intellectual argument. Or half thereof.
She had more coffee.
So did he.
"I have a question," she said with her eyebrows raised.
"Fire away," he said moodily.
"Why on earth don't you buy yourself an umbrella or at least a hat?"
His smile was dangerous as he told her, "I have to eat you know, Miss Granger. Do you have a problem with that?"
"No, not at all. But wouldn't it be better for you not to get wet, so that you don't have to spend money on medicine?"
He stared at her, then she saw him break his face into a reluctant smile. "True."
Almost in that second, she felt barriers break down, and knew that she could talk to him. That he would listen to her. Almost as if she could tell that she had been accepted.
"Miss Granger, just out of curiosity? What is supposed to happen in summer? "
She smiled, and then she launched into a plan that she told him about what she planned to do, which was to bring in gorgeous jewels and beads and things to take on vacation the next month, but still it seemed that it might be impossible. She forgot that it was raining, she forgot that she hated the man, she forgot all about the fact that lunchtime was nearly done, and just told him about what she wanted.
If only she could see herself, marveled Malfoy. Her brown hair that had matured from bushy madness to soft and elegant waves and curls fell from its neat ponytail to fly in her face and she brushed it back with her hands that looked so long and lean. She was smiling, and her eyes sparkled as she portrayed her excitement-dark brown eyes that he hardly ever saw smile. She was so happy and it showed. And she described things to him, told him exactly how she meant and how it could be done. She countered his quarrels.
"Well, you will have to meet me later on in the week, maybe next week Monday if you want me to show you and explain it completely, this is just a coffee shop, and I don't have much time."
She was like the Hogwarts Hermione, just prettier, older and a little changed. She had to bear so much, even from Hogwarts. She was a survivor.
But not right now.
She had lost all the tension, the walls, and was talking to him like if she knew him as a friend all her life. He argued with her, watched her roll her eyes and throw up her hands expressively. Her eyes sparkled as she told him of gorgeous gems that she had seen, and asked him whether or not she thought that she should bring in an opal that was supposedly cursed.
"Well, some people might find it interesting," he told her, "but really, wouldn't it curse the shop?"
"But we once brought in a ruby, ages old that had a curse written on it . . . though we sold it pretty fast. Nothing happened."
"That was a ruby. Opals traditionally are bad luck, and you know that too."
She rolled her eyes. Malfoy had a point. "True, but should I bother, then with a gorgeous set of coral?"
"Why of course, coral is great and you know that, you should try that . . . but what about the beads? Lots of little beaded necklaces and rings . . . those are pretty cheap and sell very well . . ."
At once they went back to talking, and talked for half an hour undisturbed when Hermione heard another unexpected voice.
"Hermione? Hermione? Where are you, there is something I was to ask you . . ."
Ginny.
Draco Malfoy looked at her with a half a smirk on her face. She was caught between a rock and a hard place, and Ginny was the rock. She would stay.
"Hermione Granger."
Ginny was well known for looks of murderous proportions, even as Hermione deliberately sipped her coffee. Her neglected coffee.
"Mr. Malfoy. I was looking for Miss Granger, do you mind?" casting Malfoy a filthy look.
He bowed as he stood. "Of course not." He drew himself up, and looked at Ginny. Hermione could even hear his thought, "Filthy Weaslette," in her head.
His outward question was, "Is it still raining?"
"Yes."
He left.
She saw the curtain and cloud that had vanished return in that one look.
"Well, Hermione."
"What?"
"Why were you sitting here with Draco Malfoy? In this corner?"
"I always eat here. He just joined me because there was nowhere else for him to sit."
"And you let him?" hissed Ginny.
"Why not?"
Ginny said nothing, just looked at Hermione with one of her most filthy looks.
Hermione had the rest of her coffee.
&&&&&&&&&
Later that day, that night as Hermione put on her nightshirt, the big grey one that had the lettering "The Boss" on it, she realized something. She could never be herself. She wanted so badly to do some things. She wanted to do what she wanted. Always as a child, she always did what she was told to. There was a standard. Perfection. Perfection. But she wanted to try some thing else. She would love to go to a night club. To wear a short and skimpy skirt, and a teeny tiny top. But every Friday night that she would go, Ginny always asked her to do something. Maybe on purpose. But she hated it.
And now Draco Malfoy had turned back up.
Everything had changed again, and now, she was back to risk taking.
There was still hope to get to a nightclub, she thought, as she curled up and went to sleep in her bed. Maybe with Malfoy.
&&&&
Well . . .Shayl, chapters good enough for you yet? I know, I really do owe you don't I?
Disclaimer: You know.
After the first two days that he was there, she was surprised how well he fitted into her little business. As sweet and charming as he ever could be, yet sometimes dangerous, he fitted in perfectly. Yet you always felt like he didn't fit in. And he didn't- though she hired him, she didn't accept him. Neither she nor Ginny. Really, if looks could kill, Draco Malfoy would have died under the furious glances of Mrs. Potter. Sometimes hers too. A look, she knew, was hard to get you into jail.
Until the day of the coffee shop.
It was raining cats and dogs that lunchtime. She wasn't really happy, since she didn't like when it rained cats and dogs. Light, soft and misty rain was better suited to her tastes. But it was raining cats and dogs, so when her one o' clock lunch came, she ditched her paperwork that she had been checking, and pushed in her computer desk-she was looking for gems to bring in with the arrival of summer, two months from now.
She pushed in her computer desk and took up her umbrella, and got herself across without getting too wet. Just a little bit. Her shoes were wet, but that was all.
She pushed open the wet glass door of Le Café, looking longingly in through the large windows at the crazy little shop. Inside smelled like all blends of coffee, which she liked. Such a sweet aroma, with gorgeous hints of fruit tea. The smell surrounded her and she paused for a second just to inhale that scent. Then she took in the shop.
The little shop was white, with lots of coffee cup stencils all over the walls, and pictures of famous landmarks as well, such as the Eiffel Tower, and the Leaning Tower of Pisa. The tables were small and circular, each with a small tea light on them. The woman at the counter nodded at her and without asking gave her a cup of black coffee, steaming hot in a little white mug, and a couple of delicious looking sandwiches. She smiled gratefully, paid her and found her way across to the little table in the corner of the shop that always hid her completely, since there was a little glass shelf that hid her from most people's sight. That was what she wanted.
From what she could see the usual crowd was there, people who worked all around, and a couple of her own staff members on lunch break. Laura was sitting with Kevyn again, laughing at own of his jokes. Laura was the woman that made Kevyn react. She was one of the people that got along with everyone. She sipped her coffee and sat back, her eyes half closed and half asleep, knowing that in about an hour her lunch break was over. But why shouldn't she enjoy it . . .?
Then, all of a sudden, she heard in the midst of the bustling around her a voice.
"Miss Granger, may I sit here?"
She sat bolt upright, from her relaxed position and flicked her eyes open. Of course, she knew it was Malfoy. Of course he knew he had startled her. And darn him, how did he find this corner?
"Of course," was what she said
"The lady at the front told me that everywhere was full, then she said that there was just one more spot. You mind?" he asked as he sat down in the seat opposite her with his own coffee. The sudden appearance of coffee reminded her that she hadn't had any of her own coffee. Not much anyway.
She had some.
"So how on earth did you guess . . . well, where the spot was?" she asked.
He chuckled. "Easy. Spotted your hands on the glass wall, I'll guess that you were stretching?"
She blinked and nodded, after having some more of her own very hot black coffee.
"This is a nice place to go, especially if you are soaking wet. Dries you out nicely."
She noticed for the first time that the man opposite her had soaking wet hair, and that he was drenched from head to toe. "Rain hasn't cleared up?"
"No, Miss Granger. It has not, and I . . ." he shrugged, and she saw him swallow pride, "don't have an umbrella. Or a raincoat. Or anything, actually." He smiled rather wickedly, then said, "I'm sorry if I'm dripping on your Louis Vuitton shoes."
She smiled. "They're not Louis Vuitton. They're Chanel."
He shrugged. "I stand corrected." He drawled the words.
It seemed that he was in a more talkative mood than usual, even if he was still the same arrogant Malfoy. You could see it in his every move, and in his stillness, you could see that Malfoy ness bred into him. He lay there occasionally tasting his black coffee, and then he asked her.
"How often do you come in here and hide Miss Granger?"
Her eyes narrowed, mere narrowing and said "What do you mean 'hide'? I am not hiding." Yet she was . . .she was always hiding . . .from the world, so that they could not see her. She spoke so much lies.
"Yes, you are Hermione. I can see that you're lying, though I must say that you are a good liar." His eyes laughed as she sat bolt upright.
"I am not a liar, and certainly not a good one."
He smiled, and then he told her sweetly, "If you say so . . .Hermione."
She rolled her eyes and let it go. He wasn't worth it . . .though he was the best person she had ever come up against in an intellectual argument. Or half thereof.
She had more coffee.
So did he.
"I have a question," she said with her eyebrows raised.
"Fire away," he said moodily.
"Why on earth don't you buy yourself an umbrella or at least a hat?"
His smile was dangerous as he told her, "I have to eat you know, Miss Granger. Do you have a problem with that?"
"No, not at all. But wouldn't it be better for you not to get wet, so that you don't have to spend money on medicine?"
He stared at her, then she saw him break his face into a reluctant smile. "True."
Almost in that second, she felt barriers break down, and knew that she could talk to him. That he would listen to her. Almost as if she could tell that she had been accepted.
"Miss Granger, just out of curiosity? What is supposed to happen in summer? "
She smiled, and then she launched into a plan that she told him about what she planned to do, which was to bring in gorgeous jewels and beads and things to take on vacation the next month, but still it seemed that it might be impossible. She forgot that it was raining, she forgot that she hated the man, she forgot all about the fact that lunchtime was nearly done, and just told him about what she wanted.
If only she could see herself, marveled Malfoy. Her brown hair that had matured from bushy madness to soft and elegant waves and curls fell from its neat ponytail to fly in her face and she brushed it back with her hands that looked so long and lean. She was smiling, and her eyes sparkled as she portrayed her excitement-dark brown eyes that he hardly ever saw smile. She was so happy and it showed. And she described things to him, told him exactly how she meant and how it could be done. She countered his quarrels.
"Well, you will have to meet me later on in the week, maybe next week Monday if you want me to show you and explain it completely, this is just a coffee shop, and I don't have much time."
She was like the Hogwarts Hermione, just prettier, older and a little changed. She had to bear so much, even from Hogwarts. She was a survivor.
But not right now.
She had lost all the tension, the walls, and was talking to him like if she knew him as a friend all her life. He argued with her, watched her roll her eyes and throw up her hands expressively. Her eyes sparkled as she told him of gorgeous gems that she had seen, and asked him whether or not she thought that she should bring in an opal that was supposedly cursed.
"Well, some people might find it interesting," he told her, "but really, wouldn't it curse the shop?"
"But we once brought in a ruby, ages old that had a curse written on it . . . though we sold it pretty fast. Nothing happened."
"That was a ruby. Opals traditionally are bad luck, and you know that too."
She rolled her eyes. Malfoy had a point. "True, but should I bother, then with a gorgeous set of coral?"
"Why of course, coral is great and you know that, you should try that . . . but what about the beads? Lots of little beaded necklaces and rings . . . those are pretty cheap and sell very well . . ."
At once they went back to talking, and talked for half an hour undisturbed when Hermione heard another unexpected voice.
"Hermione? Hermione? Where are you, there is something I was to ask you . . ."
Ginny.
Draco Malfoy looked at her with a half a smirk on her face. She was caught between a rock and a hard place, and Ginny was the rock. She would stay.
"Hermione Granger."
Ginny was well known for looks of murderous proportions, even as Hermione deliberately sipped her coffee. Her neglected coffee.
"Mr. Malfoy. I was looking for Miss Granger, do you mind?" casting Malfoy a filthy look.
He bowed as he stood. "Of course not." He drew himself up, and looked at Ginny. Hermione could even hear his thought, "Filthy Weaslette," in her head.
His outward question was, "Is it still raining?"
"Yes."
He left.
She saw the curtain and cloud that had vanished return in that one look.
"Well, Hermione."
"What?"
"Why were you sitting here with Draco Malfoy? In this corner?"
"I always eat here. He just joined me because there was nowhere else for him to sit."
"And you let him?" hissed Ginny.
"Why not?"
Ginny said nothing, just looked at Hermione with one of her most filthy looks.
Hermione had the rest of her coffee.
&&&&&&&&&
Later that day, that night as Hermione put on her nightshirt, the big grey one that had the lettering "The Boss" on it, she realized something. She could never be herself. She wanted so badly to do some things. She wanted to do what she wanted. Always as a child, she always did what she was told to. There was a standard. Perfection. Perfection. But she wanted to try some thing else. She would love to go to a night club. To wear a short and skimpy skirt, and a teeny tiny top. But every Friday night that she would go, Ginny always asked her to do something. Maybe on purpose. But she hated it.
And now Draco Malfoy had turned back up.
Everything had changed again, and now, she was back to risk taking.
There was still hope to get to a nightclub, she thought, as she curled up and went to sleep in her bed. Maybe with Malfoy.
&&&&
Well . . .Shayl, chapters good enough for you yet? I know, I really do owe you don't I?