Posy in his Pocket
Part Two - Coffee Conversations
Today Harry Potter was having coffee with Luna Lovegood. Harry was terrified, not only for the reason that he was going to have to talk properly with Luna in what seemed like years but that Harry actually hated drinking coffee!
It had come to a surprise to him, in fact, some place in Rome in the year that should have been his last at Hogwarts. All three of the trio were extremely tired and had spent the three previous days in Munich searching for clues. It had come up fruitless, except for a message with one word of it, Roma. With no where else to go, Hermione had muttered, a hand across her eyes as the sun started to rise, why not Rome?
Her head was now looking with some interest at the buildings. Ron had leaned back and appeared to be dozing in the walking where ever they went, head bowed and eyes darkened. Hermione had suggested coffee and Ron's head had finally perked up. Both had eagerly stormed off to find a cafe, soon one was found, the Italians surely loved their coffee.
Harry had followed, through he had been apprehensive about the matter. When asked in fluent Italian what he wanted, Harry had shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. Hermione was merely had taken over, speaking in heavily broken Italian to the waiter
When their drinks had began to arrive, both Hermione and Ron seemed to become more alert. Harry had taken a tiny sip, unsure what to expect as he had never experienced coffee before.
He had found it to be the most disgusting and foul tasting mix he had ever been unlucky enough to taste. The yellow bobbing flowers in the middle of the red and white checked table were covered in the brown drink. Hermione had to invent some quick excuse, all Harry remembered was the word pazzo.
From then on, Harry had refused to taste coffee again, ignoring Ron and Hermione's attempts to persuade him to the benefits of the drink.
Now Luna expected him to drink it. There was no way out of it. None. Harry was doomed to drink coffee. He hoped Luna appreciated his sacrifice.
She breezed in, clutching a large yellow bag, her hair wrapped up in a bun. She smiled at him and walked over, stopping to nod and wave at a oddly dressed, small man.
"Hello Harry, nice to see you again. You haven't changed much." Out of her bag she pulled out a mug, red and with a salacious image of Fudge. It was oddly amusing if very disturbing.
"Hi, er, everyone else says I've grown. Hagrid says I look more like my father than ever. Except for my eyes... They'll always be like my mother's."
Luna smiled warmly at him and placed a hand over his own hand, speaking softly and gently, "That's not necessary true. There's always surgery Harry."
Now that was surprise. Harry stared at her, face frozen in an expression of dim horror and a smile-grimace. "What - What?" It was moments like these that Harry wished he had Dumbledore's grace.
"Oh, yes," Luna leaned away from and tilted her head to stare out the window. "I find the process fascinating. You can change your face, forever. Not like Tonks, but forever. No glamour," she smiled, "I think I would like a botched job. Interesting faces are the best."
For a moment Harry was reminded of Cher, before the image was shaken out of his mind when Luna spoke again. "What would you like? I'm afraid I can't stay for long, I'm having a late lunch with newlyweds. They came back from their honeymoon last week. I fear Lavender has gained some weight, I think she is one of the women that Witch Weekly say 'let themselves go'."
Suppressing a snort, Harry grinned, "You haven't heard? Ron and Lavender are expecting their firstborn, oh, in less than four months. Seems they started early on the honeymoon."
"Well, that would explain the broken crockery that decorated Ronald's head. And the peanut butter slathered pickles, yes, how lovely for them. Did you know they are renovating?"
Harry blinked and laughed, "So, let me get this straight. Lavender is expecting, Ron is renovating, both are still working and they both have to deal with Lavender's cravings?"
Luna nodded gravely, "It seems so. Lavender seemed to be having fun. But Ronald was objecting to the oyster theme. Hormones, he says. That was when Lavender threw the plate at his head. I left afterwards, the last riot I was involved in left me unwilling to experience another."
"Baverville riots I assume? They were terrible, I was there, Auror duty and... It wasn't a battlefield, yet..." He stopped and stared at the ceiling.
"Just that. I'm still wrangling myself out of various legal issues, I was one of the organizers, so some people are making me responsible for the whole matter. Weird, for a peace rally."
"Oddly ironic too, over twenty people dead, hundreds injured and all over the War. I'm sorry, about your legal worries..."
"Yes, well, someone volunteered to pay for them thankfully, only after I threatened and blackmailed him, but still," a smile curled across her lips, "It was very nice." Harry smiled back, "Coffee?"
The smile dropped. "Well, er, you did say, that you were busy and needed to leave fairly quickly. Didn't you?"
Luna's smile faltered as she looked at him questioning, "Yes, I believe I did. It can wait however. I haven't spoke to you for such a long time and my lunch can wait until I'm ready, he's always late anyway, fashionably so, but late nonetheless."
Seeing no way out, Harry opted for hope, "I don't suppose they serve lemonade?" More like desperation, but Luna smiled again, so it didn't matter to Harry, all that much that is.
"Oh goody! I don't know 'bout the lemonade, I know they serve tea and pumpkin juice. I think I'll have a glass of iced pumpkin juice, it's very slurpy!"
"Indeed it is Miss Lovegood," a tall thin man with a long face appeared behind Harry's elbow, startling him, "We do serve lemonade, for the children you understand. Just another service that Cafe W offers to their patrons with children in their care."
"Oh, how lovely, Mr Chines! We'll have the iced pumpkin juice and the lemonade juice, then. Harry may not be a child, but surely he can have one?"
"As you wish, Miss Lovegood, Mr Potter. Your drinks shall be with you shortly," as the man passed his grey eyes flickered to Harry's forehead.
"Interesting man, Chines," Harry observed blandly as he watched his companion chew on a bread stick. "Quite the fighter from what I heard. Never saw him in action, but saw what happened to those he cursed."
"Really? He has never told me. He does serve delightful sugar bread but."
"How... nice."
AN: I'm very happy about the responses to PihP. To the questions that have been asked, don't worry, they'll be answered at te fic progresses. Thank you!
Pazzo is Italian for crazy, or insane.
Disclaimer: Nope, no HP for me.
