Author's Note:

Here I am (a little late again) for Round 11, our last regular round of QLFC and the finals qualifier! The Keeper prompt this round was to write a story inspired by the title of a previous round: "So You Think You've Got Superpowers."

Shout out to my wonderful teammates for all their beta-ing and support these last few months. Go Kestrels!

To my judge, the word count here (minus the A/N) is: 1,103.

Ari

1 August 1997

Tess leaned forward against the café counter, chewing listlessly on a piece of gum that had gone tasteless and rubbery hours ago. It was well past three in the afternoon, but she'd had all of five bloody customers the whole day, so the till was as empty as ever.

She supposed she was going to have to get on Andy's case again about renovating a bit. At this rate, the only way they were ever going to be able to compete with the fancy new Caffè Nero across the street was if they spruced the place up a bit. Made it look all homey and family-owned and vintage-y, the sort of place that tourists might want to try—not a greasy, gloomy hole in the wall.

God, her manager was a bloody cheapskate.

She was just thinking of going into the loo to reapply her lipstick for the sake of something to do when, to her surprise, the bell above the door jingled.

"…this will do, in here!"

Tess blinked. A harassed-looking teenage girl, who was wearing a fancy, floaty purple frock, had just stumbled into the café, followed by a tall, thin ginger. Both stared around the café with terrified, confused expressions for a moment. Tess almost snorted with laughter. It didn't matter how many times she saw it—first-time pot-smokers, paranoid out of their wits, never stopped being hilarious.

Taking pity on the pair, Tess jerked her head in the direction of a table in the back corner of the café, and the two teenagers scuttled over to sit down. They were plainly baked out of their minds, for they were walking strangely, leaving a larger gap between them than necessary.

Tess watched as the two of them took seats across from each other in a very deliberate manner, squinting warily into the empty booth as though they were worried about knocking something over. Once seated, the girl kept twitching strangely, her eyes darting over her shoulder in the direction of the door. Tess stifled another snort as she turned her back on the pair to switch on the espresso machine. She had to try very hard not to giggle as she caught snippets of their hushed conversation.

"…the Leaky Cauldron here, it's only in Charing Cross—"

"…We can't!"

"Not to stay there…"

"…Voldemort's taken over the Ministry, what else do we need to know?"

"…It was just an idea!"

Bloody hell, they certainly were an odd pair. Leaky cauldrons? Voldymort? Perhaps they were playing some sort of game—one of those role-playing or scavenger hunt types. Maybe they were part of one of those little conventions she heard about in the news now and again, where people from all over the country gathered to reenact wars—or books, or movies. It would certainly explain why they both looked so stressed.

Then again, maybe they were just high.

Grinning to herself, Tess shuffled over to their booth. "'Afternoon. What can I get you both?"

"Er—" The girl with the purple frock stared wide-eyed at her ginger companion, then, bizarrely, at the empty space on his left. "Two…two cappuccinos, please."

"Just a minute," Tess nodded, heading back to the counter just as the bell above the door trilled again. She glanced over her shoulder and was amazed to see two burly workmen slouch into the café and cram themselves into the booth next to the teenagers.

Well, if this wasn't her lucky day! Maybe all that bullshit Andy was always spouting about how Londoners would eventually miss the rustic charm of old cafés like his wasn't as stupid as it sounded. Four customers in just as many minutes—that had to be some sort of a record for her. She smiled sweetly at the workmen, but they ignored her. She rolled her eyes.

The espresso machine finished pissing out the second cappuccino with a hiss and a groan. Humming to herself, Tess seized the mugs and walked over to the teenagers' booth, where they were now whispering frantically to each other.

"…could send a message to the Order."

"Can you do that talking Patronus thing, then?"

"I've been practicing and I think so," the girl muttered, looking nervously at Tess as she approached.

"Well, as long as it doesn't get them into trouble—though they might've been arrested already," the ginger responded in a dark voice, accepting his cappuccino from Tess and immediately taking a lengthy sip. He made a choking, gagging noise. "God, that's revolting."

Tess spluttered in indignation, glaring at him, but he didn't seem to notice. The brunette across from him gave Tess an apologetic look.

Shaking her head, Tess stepped over to the workmen's booth. "'Afternoon. What can I get you?" she asked, more snappishly than she intended.

The blond, burlier workman gave her an impatient look, waving a hand. "Not here for coffee. Move out of the way, will you?"

Tess stared at him incredulously. What the hell was with all these weirdos today? "Well, excuse me, but you can't just sit in here if you aren't purchasing."

"Listen, lady," hissed the second workman, who had a rather frightening, twisted face, now that Tess saw him up close. "Move. Out. Of. Our. Way."

Tess glared at him, pointing a finger at the door. "Out."

Both men lunged suddenly toward her, and Tess gasped, stumbling backwards, as they both reached into their pockets and pulled out—sticks?

"What the hell—?"

"Stupefy!"

Tess screamed, falling sideways and hitting the floor with a thud as a jet of bright red light exploded from the teenagers' booth. It hit the blond workman directly in the face; he slumped onto the floor next to her, his eyes wide and unmoving.

The second workman let out a snarl, raising his stick and pointing it at the teenagers, and Tess saw shining black cords erupt from the stick and wrap themselves tightly around the ginger boy. She screamed again, hurtling to her feet and sprinting toward the glass door. That was it. She didn't care what bizarre, dangerous superhero game these crazies were playing, or why in God's name they'd brought it into her café. She hadn't signed up for this, she hadn't—

There was a yell—another sudden blast of red light—it filled her vision—

Tess blinked sleepily, raising her head from where it rested on her palm upon the café counter. Bollocks. She'd dozed off on her shift. She yawned and glanced at the clock on the opposite wall.

It was well past three in the afternoon, but she'd had all of five bloody customers the whole day, so the till was as empty as ever.