Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor am I making any profits.
Decaf
"Hot."
"Cold."
"Cream."
"Skim."
"Caramel."
"Sugar-free vanilla."
"Extra shot of caffeine."
"Decaf."
"Ugh, Granger. That's your favorite? I didn't even know they made it that way."
"I didn't say it was my favorite, Malfoy. I said it was my usual."
"Well, your usual sounds thoroughly unappetizing."
Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger stood at the counter of Cool Beans Coffee Shop waiting for the slim strawberry blonde witch waiting on them to finish their orders.
"Yours sounds like tooth rot in a cup."
"Nice, Granger."
"That will be six Sickles, please," said the slim witch as she returned with two cups and an inviting smile.
Draco reached into a pocket and pulled out the required payment plus three more Sickles. "Thank you, Claire," he said slowly as he gently placed the coins in her outstretched hand, never once breaking eye contact with her.
"Any time, Mr. Malfoy," she purred. "Any time." She flashed him a coy smile before turning to the next customer in line.
"Nice girl, Claire is," commented Draco as he picked up his cup and followed Hermione to a small table in the back corner of the coffee shop.
"Shameless flirt, Claire is," Hermione stated as she took her seat across from Draco.
He looked at Hermione for a moment before agreeing. "Yes, she is."
"So are you."
"Yes, I am."
Both of them held back smirks as they immersed themselves in their morning coffee.
"So," Draco began after a long pause, "what's your favorite?"
"Sorry?" Hermione questioned with mild confusion.
"Your favorite coffee. If your usual isn't your favorite, what is?"
"Oh," she said in understanding. She hesitated for a moment before replying. "Chocolate cappuccino with extra cream."
Draco grinned. "Very indulgent. So, why do you deny yourself this guilty little pleasure?"
She waved her hand unconcernedly. "Too sweet, too fattening. I only like it every once in a while."
"Too fattening?" he reiterated raising an eyebrow. "You're very slender, Granger. You certainly don't have to worry about a few extra calories."
Hermione peered at him over the top of her cup as she took a long sip.
"Besides," he continued, "even if you did gain weight from it, I don't think you'd hear any complaints."
"And why is that?"
"You know where females gain weight first, don't you? I'll tell you, it's not in the hips."
Hermione set her cup down and leaned back in her seat. "Is that right?" She looked at Draco and watched his eyes flicker to and linger at the level of her chest. "So, tell me, Draco," she said with feigned innocence, "where do females gain weight first?"
Raising his eyes from her chest he looked at her and tried to restrain a smirk. "Why don't you gain some weight so we can find out?" To emphasize his point he pushed his cup slightly towards her.
"Oh, no," she said leaning back slightly. "You're not getting me to drink that."
"Come on, Granger," Draco urged. "A little extra weight would look great on you."
"Would it, now?" she asked rhetorically. "Are you saying there's not enough of me to look at already?"
Once more Draco's eyes traveled southward. "Not with a shirt like that, Granger."
Hermione lowered her head to look down at her shirt. Deep coral. Capped sleeves. Modest neckline. "What's wrong with my shirt?" she asked perplexed.
"Sometimes, Granger," he said, still staring at her chest, "less is more."
She reached her hand in between herself and Draco and snapped her fingers a few times. His eyes shot up to hers.
"If less is more, then I won't be needing this." She pushed his coffee cup away from her and back towards him.
"Spoil sport."
She grinned in triumph and took a sip from her cup.
"So tell me," he began. "We've been getting coffee every morning for how long now?"
Cocking her head to one side and looking slightly upward, Hermione thought for a moment before answering, "Ten months? It was right after we were paired up to bring in the last of the Death Eaters."
Draco scowled slightly. "Which we still haven't done."
"I know." She sighed and looked down at the table. Not wanting the thought of Death Eaters on the loose to spoil their mood, she queried, "Why do you ask?"
"What?" he said distractedly. "Oh, right. Well, it just seems odd that we've been having coffee every morning together before going in to the office and I never knew you drank that disgusting concoction."
"Hey! Don't knock it 'til you try it."
Just then a small smile grew across his face. "Okay."
"Okay?"
"Yeah. I'll taste yours if you taste mine."
She stared at him.
"The coffee," he clarified.
"I know what you mean, you dolt."
He grinned. "So?"
"You're on." She handed him her cup in exchange for his.
Draco watched her for a moment. "Ladies first."
In mild hesitation she looked down at the cup before raising it to her lips and taking a sip. Her eyes widened in surprise, then she murmured, "Mmm," as she closed her eyes and reveled in a longer drink.
Draco stared.
When she finally lowered the cup from her mouth she opened her eyes and slowly ran her tongue across her lips to catch any stray foam. "That was good," she admitted in satisfaction.
Draco shook off his stare and arranged his face into a smile. "Very good, Granger. Drink enough of that and you'll gain a little weight. I'll bet you can just feel yourself growing as we speak, can't you?"
"Not really," she replied, taking another drink from his cup. She licked her lips again and said, "But I'll bet you can."
Draco choked on air and started coughing.
Hermione couldn't resist a grin.
After Draco had resumed normal breathing Hermione nodded towards her cup. "Your turn."
Not quite ready to speak yet, Draco raised the cup in a mock toast and took a deep drink. His face seized up in revulsion as he tried desperately to swallow.
Hermione's hand flew to her mouth as she covered up a laugh.
"Blech," Draco indecorously sputtered. "That was awful! It's even worse than it sounds!"
"Yes, it is." Hermione burst into unbridled laughter.
Draco reached across to take his cup back, but Hermione grabbed it to herself.
"Uh-uh," she warned. "I have to gain some weight, remember?"
"Oh yeah." Draco glinted a feral grin to her as he flicked his eyes quickly to her chest and back up to her face. "By all means, drink up."
"I will." Then she tilted the cup for another drink.
After a few moments of companionable silence Hermione set the cup in the middle of the table.
"So, tell me, big spender, do you always give Claire a tip equal to half of the bill?"
"Yes. I didn't used to, but I discovered that after I did she started adding extra cream to my coffee. And my dashing smile doesn't hurt, either."
"Oh, I see. So you're prostituting yourself for some extra cream."
"Hey," he said in mock offense, "I'm paying for it."
"Oh, so she's the–"
"Can I get you anything else, Mr. Malfoy, before I take my break?" Claire stood next to the table and smiled dazzlingly at Draco. She had a small red purse clutched in her left hand and her right hand rested on Draco's shoulder.
Hermione arched an eyebrow.
Smiling brightly Draco responded, "No thank you, Claire. We're fine."
Claire looked at Hermione with a less than pleasant gaze and said, "If you're sure." Fixing Draco with another winning smile she sashayed her way to a door marked "Employees Only" and entered after a man with salt-and-pepper hair and dark robes.
"She doesn't give anyone else table side service," Hermione observed.
"Another bonus for the extra tip."
Hermione considered this for a moment and acquiesced, "Okay, so maybe the tip thing is a good idea after all." She took another sip before inquiring casually, "Who was that who went into the employee room with her? I thought we knew everyone who works here."
Draco shrugged. "Must be the new employee. They've been advertising for help for a few weeks now."
"I think Claire's jealous," Hermione noted with a hint of satisfaction.
"Well, you are the only woman I ever come in here with."
"So if I'm the only woman you've ever been here with in ten months why does she keep flirting with you? What if I was your wife?"
Draco held up his left hand, his palm facing him, and wiggled his fingers. "No rings."
Looking mildly put out she asked, "What if I was your girlfriend?"
He regarded her for a moment. "Well, then, I suppose I'd have to stop tipping her so extravagantly, now wouldn't I?"
Feeling somewhat mollified, Hermione reached for Draco's cup again.
"Okay, so I discovered that the dreadful sludge you call your usual is not your favorite, and you discovered that I overtip our waitress. It's my turn again. What else don't I know about you?"
Looking dubious Hermione countered, "Honestly, Draco, what else do you know about me?"
"Exactly my point. So, spill."
She rested her arms on the table and clasped her hands together in front of her. "What do you want to know?"
"Oh, I don't know. Anything. What's your favorite color?"
"Red. Yours?"
"Green. Merry Christmas."
She smiled. "Okay, here's one. Favorite food?"
"Roast lamb with mint sauce."
"Mmm," she commented. "I like seared ahi with ginger lime salsa."
Draco gave her an amused look. "That sounds very exotic."
"It is."
Leaning back against his chair and hooking an arm over the back of it, Draco looked at Hermione appraisingly. "Worst pick-up line."
"The worst I've ever heard?" she asked.
"The worst anyone's ever used on you."
"Hmm." Hermione thought for a few moments before settling on an answer. "Once I was in a little pub in Salisbury and a very tipsy man came over and said, 'I seem to have lost my phone number. Can I have yours?'"
Draco burst out laughing. "Oh, no, really?"
Hermione just nodded.
"So? Did you give it to him?"
"I gave him the first series of numbers I could think of. I actually think I may have put one too many numbers in it, but he was too far gone to notice." She shrugged as Draco continued to smile. "And you?"
"I was at one of my mother's garden parties and one of her friends approached me in the hallway after coming out of the loo. Just as I was about to walk past she said, 'Young man, there seems to be a problem in here.' I said, 'Really? What's the problem?' Then she pulled me into the bathroom and shoved me against the wall."
Hermione's eyes grew wide.
"I asked what the blazes was going on and she said, ' There's a problem with the...plumbing. I think you need to run a snake through the pipes to clear it out.'"
Hermione continued to stare at him in disbelief.
"I thought she was kidding until she started undoing my trousers."
"What did you do?" Hermione asked in rapt horror.
"I cleaned out her pipes."
At Hermione's outraged gasp he quickly amended, "I got out of there as fast as I could. Come on, Granger, you honestly think I'd play plumber with one of my mum's friends?"
"Uh," she quietly choked out, "no?"
Her gave her a withering look before shaking his head and laughing. "She was more than twice my age and one of my best friends' mum. I think that would have caused some problems with my friend when school started up again, don't you think?"
"I should think so," she easily conceded. She brought his cup back to her mouth but stopped short of her lips to grimace. "One of your best friends' mum? Ugh."
"You're telling me," he agreed as he watched her drink and then slide her tongue along her lips. He shifted slightly in his seat. "That year's Christmas dinner was a tad uncomfortable considering I was seated right next to her at the table."
"Lucky you. Did she feel you up again?"
"No, thank Merlin. But she sure would have gotten a surprise if she had."
Hermione gave him a questioning look.
"I was wearing my Quidditch athletic support," he explained.
"Smart boy," she commended with a smile.
"So, I believe it's your turn for a topic now." He watched her expectantly.
She placed her elbows on the table and brought her laced fingers up to rest under her chin. "Okay, then. First kiss."
"Oh, come now, Granger," he started. "I think we can both guess that. Viktor Krum for you?"
Nodding she queried, "Pansy Parkinson?"
"Right in one. Now, how about something a little more telling, like best kiss?"
She raised and then dropped her shoulders noncommittally.
"Here, I'll go first," he offered. At her encouraging look he told her, "Genevieve Freelove. Her family lived in France and I saw her every summer. And let me tell you, she lived up to her last name."
Hermione wrinkled up her nose slightly. "Not too much info, please."
Draco smiled. "Okay. So, how about you? Could it possibly have been Krum? Or maybe the Weasel?"
"It's Weasley," she corrected, "and, no, it wasn't Ron."
"Was it Potter?" When she didn't answer Draco ranted, "Potter? Potter was your best kiss?"
Hermione smiled as she conjured up the memory. "It was during our seventh–well–what should have been our seventh year at Hogwarts. It was right before Harry and Voldemort's final confrontation. Ron had gone missing and Harry knew the end had come. We were both very agitated, and Harry started doubting himself. I kept telling him he could do it, that he would do it, but he wouldn't listen. He kept saying he was nothing, and I got so mad at him I didn't know what else to do but kiss him and show him that he wasn't nothing." Hermione's eyes sparkled. "He poured everything he had into that kiss. So did I. It was the most amazing kiss, and not likely to be topped very easily."
They sat in silence for a moment, Hermione contemplating her best kiss and Draco contemplating her.
"So," Draco said with forced nonchalance, "you and Potter?"
Hermione brought her eyes back to Draco. "Oh. No, no. Harry and I were never together like that. It was just one highly charged, amazingly physical moment. But that was it. It never happened again."
"Hmm."
Hermione looked at Draco inquiringly, but he just crooked a plastic smile at her.
"All this talk of Potter has made me feel dirty." He stood up from his chair. "I'm just going to go wash up."
Hermione watched him walk towards the hallway near the employee room as he made his way to the loo. Her face was pure confusion as she wondered what had dismissed him and his companionable mood. It couldn't have been just the mention of Harry. Although Draco and Harry weren't friends, they got on decently now that the war and the rubbish surrounding it was over. Draco knew that Harry didn't hold a huge grudge against him for his involvement in Dumbledore's death, Harry having chalked it up to Draco being just another of Voldemort's victims. So what had caused Draco's sudden mood shift? Hermione began to sip Draco's coffee again as she pondered.
She looked at the door to the employee room and saw Claire back hurriedly out of the room and rush down the hall towards the loo. Hermione's eyes narrowed. That little bint. She and Draco may have loosely called her a flirt, but Hermione knew a gold digger when she saw one. Not that Draco had much gold anymore, though. He had been fined heavily when he had been revealed as a former Death Eater, and the rest of the Malfoy Estate had been seized by the Ministry after Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy's arrests. But with a promising career with the Ministry, a second chance from wizarding society as a whole, and a pretty face, Draco had no shortage of women wanting to bark up his tree. Hermione grinned mirthlessly at the pun her musings had made. In fact, Hermione thought depravedly, that's probably what Claire's doing right now–barking up Draco's tree in the loo. Hermione bristled at the image.
Trying to fight down her simmering indignation she tore her eyes from the hallway and glanced around the coffee shop. About three-quarters of the tables were occupied, business wizards and witches gulping down their morning energy with the occasional pastry or scone. It was the same every day: some patrons would arrive early, like Draco and Hermione, to enjoy a leisurely pick-me-up, while others arrived with barely a minute to spare before inhaling their orders and pausing briefly to chuck the resulting rubbish in the bin near the door.
Her eyes followed one such wizard who appeared to be in a phenomenal rush. He had barely taken a sip of his coffee when he jumped up as though shocked by an electric current and hurried out of the door, not even bothering to bin his still steaming cup. Odd, Hermione thought. She thought she recognized him with his light brown hair spiked up like a porcupine, but couldn't quite place him.
She watched as the door shut. On the outside of the glass door the words "Cool Beans" were scripted in caramel colored paint to welcome the patrons. She glanced out of the windows comprising half of the shop's outer facade and noticed several other things written in paint. "Wizarding World's Best Coffee," proclaimed one of the sayings in deep red. "Special of the day–2 Sickles," read another in brown. "Help wanted. Inquire within," blared the final message in lime green.
Hermione sighed and returned her gaze to Draco's empty chair.
Hang on!, Hermione thought. Help wanted? Wasn't the position filled by that man going into the employee room with Claire?
Just then several things happened in rapid fire succession. A loud blast shook the interior of the coffee shop; dark billowing smoke poured from the employee room; loud screams penetrated through the building.
Immediately Hermione drew her wand.
The shop's patrons looked around in a mixture of confusion and fear as they rose from their seats. The charcoal smoke from the back poured steadily into the customer area, obscuring visibility. Hermione began to cough as the smoke reached her.
As though at once, panic spread through the customers. They thronged for the exit crashing into one another, coughing and sputtering through the smoke. Several witches were crying while fear whitened the faces of others.
More shouts were heard as Ministry robed wizards filed into the shop. Aurors. They pushed their way through the mass exodus of people desperately trying to escape. Several aurors set up posts by the exit to help the people filing chaotically out the door.
Then she, too, panicked.
Draco.
Hermione ran towards the back of the shop where the aurors were heading, her movement impeded by the stream of people moving against her. Slipping slowly through the crowd she managed to disencumber herself from a tight knot of frightened witches. Just as she got to the back another blast rocked the building. More screams rang out, sending the exodus into terror.
"You're going the wrong way."
A tight grip around Hermione's arm held her in place. She looked up to see an auror dragging her away from the back.
"No!" she yelled above the terrified din, struggling against the auror. "I'm a special agent." With her free hand she extricated her credentials from her robes.
He looked at them, then at her face. "Sorry, Agent Granger, but this is auror business." Once again he pulled her towards the exit.
"No," she ground out again trying to wrench her arm free. "My friend is back there!"
"We'll get her out," the auror shouted back through the pandemonium.
"Him!" Hermione pulled against the auror with all her strength. The group in front of them stumbled back, throwing the auror off balance. Finally she broke free and hurried again towards the back.
The smoke was getting thicker. She held her robes up to her face, trying to filter the air through them as she breathed. As she approached the back an auror bounded from the hallway leading to the loo.
"All clear!" he shouted to another auror standing at the wreckage of the employee door.
Wait!, Hermione panicked. Where's Draco? If the loo was clear, where had he gone?
She followed the aurors unnoticed into the employee room. The smoke was thick, nearly black. Hermione coughed into her robes and took a quick breath, trying not to breathe in the smoke as she made her way to a doorway at the left of the room.
The door had a gaping hole charred through it and it hung on the frame by one remaining hinge. Hermione tried to peer through the smoke filled doorway but could barely see past her own hand. She quickly made her way through the door and barely managed to veer behind the back of a hulking auror. She slipped noiselessly past overturned coffee pots and piles of smoldering supplies trying to avoid any aurors.
Up ahead she heard a distinct voice cut through the thick smoke filled air. "Drop your wand, Lestrange."
Draco!
"If you want to get out alive," he added in a bored tone.
"So," answered a gravelly baritone, "Little Malfoy is making death threats, is he? We all know that ickle Draco can't make a kill–even when it's handed to him on a silver platter."
"I'll kill you, Draco said in a low voice that Hermione could barely hear.
Hermione bolted in the direction of Draco's voice, her eyes watering and stinging from the smoke. She tried to wave the smoke out of her way with her hand, but it was too thick. A sharp pain punctured her side as she ran into the corner of a counter. She grabbed her side and continued on just as she heard wand fire. Hearing a sickening crack like a head smashing into something hard and a muted thump, Hermione quickened her pace. When she finally reached a set of swinging doors she pushed her way through.
The smoke was less prolific. Standing in the midst of a group of magically petrified aurors was Draco. He was looking down at a heap of dark robes with a look of disgust on his face. Hermione followed his gaze to the tangle of robes to see a salt-and-pepper haired wizard crumpled at the base of a wall completely knocked out. Rabastan Lestrange. The one Death Eater who had managed to evade them for ten months.
"Finite."
She looked up and saw Draco lowering his wand. The aurors around Draco immediately became animated and began moving towards the heap that was Lestrange
"Excellent work, Mr. Malfoy," commended an auror with spiky light brown hair. "I was in the coffee shop when I got the alert. Didn't think I'd make it around the back in time to head him off. Thank Merlin you were here."
Draco inclined his head in a barely noticeable acknowledgement.
"Auror Shacklebolt said we can take it from here," the auror continued. "You should get yourself to St. Mungo's to have that looked at." The auror nodded to Draco's left arm, which had bled through the forearm of his shirt.
Hermione gasped and Draco looked up at her.
"Now, go on," the auror encouraged as he steered Draco to the back door. "Have yourself looked at. We'll contact you in a day or two for a statement." Draco allowed himself to walk out of the door as the auror joined the focused group surrounding Lestrange.
Hermione quickly followed Draco outside. She found him leaning against the outer wall of the coffee shop staring into the empty alley.
Approaching him slowly she asked, "Draco, are you okay?"
He turned his head to look in her eyes and nodded. "Yeah," he answered, a slow gin coming to his face. "That was awesome."
Hermione's face took on a hard edge. "Awesome?" she asked quietly. "Awesome? Her voice began to rise in volume as she shoved her finger into his sternum. "You think taking on a barmy lunatic by yourself is awesome?"
Draco looked bemusedly at her.
"You git! You went right after him once you heard the first blast, didn't you? You didn't even wait for back-up. You know how dangerous Lestrange is. You know what horrible things he's done."
"Hermione–"
"He could have seriously hurt you He could have killed you! Did you even think of that?"
"Hermione–"
"Don't you 'Hermione' me! You know the protocol. You call for back-up. Me. You call for me! You don't go charging in on your own. You could have been killed!"
"Hermione!"
"What!"
"Shut up!"
Draco grabbed Hermione to him, his lips crashing against hers. She struggled in his grasp and pushed herself away.
She glared at him for a moment, her eyes an angry blaze as she countered, "No. You shut up!"
In an instant she threw herself against Draco, his back smacking against the wall as she hungrily devoured his lips with her own. She frantically grasped at his robes to pull him closer, her arms forcibly reaching around his neck.
Draco responded by sliding an arm around her lower back and pulling her closer to him. His free hand roamed up and down her side, relishing in the curve of her hip and pausing at the soft roundness of her breast. She sighed into his mouth and he deepened the kiss, his tongue caressing the inner rim of her lips before plunging in to tangle with her own tongue.
She moaned and in a flash his hands went to her hips. He gently pulled her hips against his own then released them only to pull them back to him.
"Oh, Draco," she mumbled as she shimmied her pelvis into his, her hands running through his soft hair.
He grunted and pushed them away from the wall. He reluctantly broke their kiss and grabbed her by the hand, nearly dragging her down the alley.
"Draco," she asked confusedly, "where are we going? St. Mungo's is the other way."
"We're not going to St. Mungo's," he replied huskily.
"Then where are we going?"
"My place."
"Your place?" Why?"
"Coffee," he said simply.
"Coffee?" Hermione asked trying to keep up with his quick pace. "But I only drink coffee in the morning, and I've already had mine for today."
"Exactly." At her lack of response he stopped and pulled her firmly against him. "I'm going to make you coffee in the morning, so that means you have to stick around for it." He proceeded to grind his intentions into her hips.
Hermione's lips formed a small "oh" as she caught his meaning. "Agent Malfoy," she said silkily, "I do believe you're seducing me."
He flashed her a rakish smile and said, "My dear Agent Granger, no more than you've already seduced me."
She smiled at him and said softly, "I think I have a new best kiss."
He smiled a heart-warmingly genuine smile at her and leaned down to kiss her, but she pulled back slightly.
"I'll stay for coffee on two conditions." She looked up at him through her lashes.
"Okay," he said, still smiling. "What's your first condition?"
"None of that decaf rubbish."
"You've got it. And your second condition?"
She smirked up at him and whispered conspiratorially, "You have to promise to do that tongue thing again."
He smiled with desire in his eyes. "Anything for you." He then lowered his head and proceeded to make good on her second condition.
"Mmm," he murmured after a moment. "Bed."
And in the blink of an eye a loud crack echoed through the alley and they were gone.
fin
This was written for the Hot Summer Nights With Draco and Hermione fic exchange. Here were the guidelines of my request.
STORY REQUEST
BRIEFLY describe what you'd like to receive: The morning before the morning after, heavy on dialogue (no fluff, but lots of flirting), coffee.
What rating would you prefer? PG-13
Deal Breakers (what don't you want?): A confession from either party.
