The Coffee Shop

Heya readers!

This is one of my first attempts of slash, so well bare with me. I have a loosely written plot, and if I manage to keep this story up, this will most likely be split into two stories. It will be a lot easier!

Chapter one

Sighing Harry Potter blew his long hair from his face, and tied it up in a random hair band that adorned his wrist. He seemed to be lacking in inspiration today. Taking a mouthful from his coffee coffee, he winced at the tepid taste and captured the waitress' attention. As a regular in the shop, the woman smiled warmly and nodded her head in acknowledgement. Many years he'd been coming here, and he had spent a lot of money on coffee's he rarely drank due to being absorbed in his sketching.

Idly he chewed on his silver lip piercing, and gazed around the shops occupants. Loosely holding his pencil he deftly sketched one of customers, his drawing implement moving with a practised ease. Yet despite the accurate drawing, he was not pleased with his work. Like him, many people here were regulars. There was no one new and exciting to draw. Concentrating on capturing the shadows surrounding the man who was nursing a cup of coffee, Harry missed the waitress placing his own drink on the table and taking a discreet peek at his work. Smiling slightly at him she walked back to the counter, her eyes not leaving the back of his head.

Harry had grown to be an attractive man. Despite his choice in clothing, he had a warm and comforting look about him that made everyone intrigued. No one really knew his past, and that added to the mysterious edge to him. One day he just appeared in a light jacket, soaking wet due to the summer rain, and ordered a coffee while drawing in his sketchbook. His sexual orientation wasn't known by anyone, which kept many peoples hopes up at being given a chance.

The familiar tinkling of the door opening sounded in the quiet shop, and brought Harry out of his sketching. Then realising his coffee was on the table, he tentively brought it to his lips, and sighed when realising it was still hot. Quite happy to ignore his picture, he proceeded to gulp down the rest of his coffee, but choking as he heard a recognizable voice.

"… Yes and can I please have the chocolate fudge cake with that".

Spluttering Harry tried to inconspicuously turn round to make sure his assumptions were correct, and grimacing when he saw they were. Completely forgetting his sketchbook, Harry threw a load of change onto the table, and darted from the shop.

After running a few blocks, he rested on a graffiti covered wall and pulled out a crushed packet of cigarettes from his leather trench coat. Putting a fag between his lips, Harry flicked his lighter open, and guarded the small flame from the wind. Inhaling the addicting smoke, he slowly slid down the wall in a crouching position, and wondered what Draco Malfoy of all people was doing in such a muggle environment.

Nervously he picked at his chipped black nail varnish, while taking in a long drag. Realisation of what he forgot only coming to him at this point…

"Oh shit".

Raising an elegant eyebrow at the waitress, Draco watched as the figure clothed in all black bolted from the shop.

"Do most of your customers leave like that?"

"Noooo", she drew out, while her eyes quickly raked his body. Once again he raised his eyebrow, and she immediately blushed at being caught.

"He's a regular, completely sane I insist. Something must have come up…" she drifted off, and handed him his coffee and cake.

Silently Draco accepted them with a nod of thanks, and deliberately sat at the table in which the person had run off. The seat was still warm, and remains of coffee were on the table, but that was not what had captured his interested. Sitting innocently in the middle of the table was a sketchbook.

Admiring the work Draco came to the conclusion that the artist at least was not a muggle; some of the pictures were well evident of that. Leaning back on his chair, he flicked his white blonde hair that he has decided to grow out of his face. A particular image of the hauntingly drawn dementor swam in front of his mind, and brought forth memories he wished to be forgotten.

Looking around the cosy coffee shop, he distracted himself by taking in the warm surroundings. The walls were painted a nice cream colour, but bordered in dark red. Many small tables to sit two were set up around the room, yet occasionally another chair had been added. Near the back of the shop was a comfy looking sofa near a dying fire, it was more secluded that the front of the shop and shrouded in shadows. The shadows brought again the image of the dementor into his mind; and in his frustration Draco closed the book only to find two words written on the front cover in green ink.

Harry Potter.

A/N Okay people, what do you think for a first chapter. Admittedly I was already a bit distracted at the loss of my eyeliner; I won't be seen without it. At the mo life is hectic, and I'm going to be going to a lot of college interviews soon, so updating may be at least once a week?

Please review, constructed critism accepted!