Firstly, a huge thank you to everyone who sent me a reviews, they really made my day :) *hands out blueberry muffins* It'll be apple pie next time lol
If today was your last day- Nickelback
I only wanna be with you- Dusty Springfield
So, this is the second instalment, enjoy :)
"usual format"- speech
"italics and bold"- thoughts
"Italics"- lyrics from a background song
Chapter Two: Buried Past and Impossible Wishes
Harry really wasn't having the best of days. Firstly, he'd woken up late (only woke up at all due to a text message he'd received from his employer's daughter), and then he'd burnt his breakfast in his haste to get dressed. And then, while he was running to work, he fell over his shoes, resulting in his current position of flat on the pavement, with a large cut down his face. This was not going to be a good day. If he had the money he would have replaced those converse ages ago, but he found his meagre funds were being spent on more important things, like surviving. No matter how bad things got, he was unwilling to open the vaults in Gringotts, despite the mounds of gold in there. As soon as he entered the wizarding world, no matter how, word would get out and that was not something that he wanted.
Sighing, Harry slowly sat up and wiped the blood away from his face with the sleeve of his coat, his stubble catching on the fibres. Bollocks. Mamma Jean will have to sort it out when he gets to work. The strong breeze whipped his overgrown fringe in front of his (now scratched) glasses, preventing him from seeing the shoelace he was attempting to tie. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a flash of platinum blonde and froze. A second passed before he relaxed and mentally scolded himself. For a moment, he had thought he had seen Draco Malfoy, but there is no way it could be him. What the hell would he be doing in Cardiff?!?! No, it was his old paranoia kicking in. He was so used to looking over his shoulder when he did something daft, pre-empting Malfoy's laughter and snide remark. It had always happed in... school. Still, the man had many of the same features as Malfoy, thought Harry, as he squinted at him through the mass of hair covering his eyes, while still attempting to remain subtle. It was then he remembered his timing situation, swiftly standing and breaking into a brisk walk.
But, through the twists and turns of the narrow alleyways that Harry had to take, the blonde man seemed to be following him. And, whoever he was, he seemed to be in as much of a hurry as Harry was. He followed him right up until the street where the bakery was situated, where he seemed to have gone his own way.
"That was weird".
Harry took one last look down the street for the blonde man and on not finding him, entered the shop. The smell of coffee and of baking cakes immediately engulfed him. Comfortable blue velvet chairs surrounded round, sturdy pine tables, stained to look like oak. The cream tiled floor glistened, complimenting the white wooden cladding covering half the walls, the top half was painted indigo. To the left of the shop was a large glass display case, usually filled with a huge variety of fresh cakes, all baked by Mamma Jean and her young apprentice/daughter Cassie. Said young apprentice was behind the wooden counter (decorated with the same cladding as the walls), singing loudly to the radio while cleaning the marble worktop. Harry smiled and headed to the coat stand by the door to remove his large and now rather dirty parka.
"It's crazy but it trueeeeee... I only wanna be with youuuuu... Oh! Hello Harry".
Cassie's pale skin turned pink at having been discovered unawares. Her long light brown hair was tied in a bun, with many strands making a bid for freedom. She was 19, kind and very perceptive, sometimes uncomfortably so. A purple checked shirt and jeans covered her petite but curvy frame, along with the waiter's apron tied around her waist. Long pale arms crossed over her chest as hazel eyes took in Harry's appearance critically.
"You haven't been awake long have you? It's a good job I sent you that text isn't it?" she smiled, "but what happened to your face?"
Harry, who had forgotten about his fall in the wake of the Malfoy look alike, winced as he touched the side of his face, it stinging slightly.
"Go get Mam to clean it up for you. I suppose you fell over your own feet?" she smiled as she went to take the first batch of cakes from the oven (muffins, cookies and a chocolate cake)
"Yeah, I suppose I'm just irrevocably clumsy". Harry tied the royal blue apron around his waist and put an order book and pen into the pocket. "I suppose I'd better sort out my face hadn't I?"
He opened the door which lead to the storage room, where he found Mamma Jean straining to reach a box on the top shelf. She was also a short woman, and Harry very often wondered how the two managed in the shop when he wasn't working. He rushed forward to grab the box, and smiled as he passed it to her.
"Mornin' boyo. It's about time you showed up" she smiled as she said it and spoke over Harry's attempts at explaining. "It's fine. Really. You've been ill; you're bound to still be a little groggy. But still, what the hell happened to your face?" Harry went over the story of his morning, without the blonde man, as Mamma Jean cleaned up his face. She didn't laugh, but tutted.
"You've gone and done this well!! Still, at least it will give the regulars more to fuss over!" The regulars in question were Mrs Bishop and Mrs Lloyd, who were lovely people; really they were, but their constant fussing over him, with things like "strapping young lad", "handsome boy" and "good catch" did sometimes get wearing.
"Right, get out and start serving customers. I would ask you to ice the cakes but after the disaster last time I think I'll give it a miss." She laughed as Harry blushed; remembering the icing nightmare that had occurred the first and last time he had tried. He walked to the counter, loaded the till and smiled.
"No way. That's too weird."
Draco was stood on the corner of the street, looking at the quaint decor of the cafe front the Harry-look-alike had just entered. 'Mamma Jean's Cafe' was emblazoned in white across the sparkling glass pane, and a blue and white striped canvas awning covered the chairs and tables outside. Could it really be possible that the Man-who-looks-like-Harry works in the very shop which he had been sent to? With few steadying breaths he approached the store, a bell ringing as he opened the door. Sure enough, the Man-who-looks-like-Harry was there behind the counter, handing a coffee to a balding man of about forty four. He's never been much of a believer in fate, but when things like this happen, it does shake his lack-of-faith a bit.
"Hello there, can I help you?" a short but portly lady had spoken, with a kind and aging face. Her shoulder length hair was dyed plum, and her hazel, pleasant eyes were hidden behind golden framed glasses, in turn fastened around her neck with a cord. She wore a pink t-shirt over a long and loose skirt printed with flowers. Small as she may be, she was the type of woman that would not fade into the background.
"Yes, could I have a box of your best cakes please? And," since Draco had just seen a young girl putting cookies into the display case, "a cookie and a latte please?" After all, he had time.
"Certainly Sir. Cassie, you heard him. Harry, take this gentleman's money." She smiled at Draco, completely oblivious to the cogs whirring in his mind. He sidled over to the counter, to a weary looking Harry.
"That'll be £9.75 please." Harry looked very suspiciously at Draco, inspecting his face for the first time, since he now had a reason. His skin was pale, but not unpleasantly so, and his eyes were grey, though not cold. His hair was blonde, but not as shockingly white as Harry remembered Malfoy's to be, and styled differently. The man was quite handsome, if Harry had felt that way about men; although, of course he didn't. Draco handed over a crisp ten pound (the minister has a habit of pulling stunts like this, so he had a stash of muggle money at the ready in his apartment).
"Can I ask you your surname Harry? You look very much like someone I went to school with." Harry's face went from cautious to shocked to furious in 0.5 seconds.
"Malfoy," he spat.
"Yes, I am Draco," he said, although he was well aware that it had been a statement and not a question. The truth was that he was a little hurt at the venom he was greeted with, even after all this time. He had not expected to be best friends, but he, well, he didn't know what he had expected, but it wasn't this level of hostility.
"How are you Harry?"
"What are you doing here?"
"Buying some cakes."
"Who sent you here?"
"My boss. He's partial to your cakes."
"Tell him I'm not interested and I'm not leaving here."
Harry was glowering at him over the counter, breathing heavily through flared nostrils. His hands were fisted over the money in his hand. Draco was speechless. The thought had never occurred to him. But, there was no way he was sent here for Harry, nobody knows where 'their hero' is.
"I wasn't sent here for you. I was sent here for your cakes. No one knows where you are. I must say, you've done a very good job at evading the ministry. They think you're in Scotland." He finished with a smile, and it was meant as a compliment, although Harry seemed to take it as a threat. His knuckles were turning white. Cassie was looking very concerned at the both of them, picking up on the fact that Harry would have punched him by now had he not been at work.
"...if today was your last day, if tomorrow was to late
could you say goodbye to yesterday..."
"Look", started Harry visibly shaking with anger
"No, YOU look." He quietly shouted, "This is just a coincidence, a large one I'll admit, but a coincidence none the less. I wasn't sent here to... kidnap you or anything." He took his volume down another level. "You wanted to leave our world behind, and I respect that, you seem... happy here. But you are not the only that has changed over time."
"...what's worth the prise is always worth the fight
Every second counts coz there's no second try..."
"You're not going to let this go are you?"
"Not a chance. You need to hear this. Why? Scared Potter?
"You wish"
"I'll have my change please." The look on Harry's face plainly said he would have preferred to give him pain than money.
Draco smiled, took his goods and nodded to Cassie on his way out.
The rest of Harry's day was spent in an uneasy sort of daze. He gave out the wrong order four times, spilt 2 cups of coffee and dropped a plate before Mamma Jean sent him home, thinking he was still sick. Neither he nor Cassie told her of the effect that Malfoy had had on him this morning, though Cassie kept shooting him concerned glances. So now he lay in his bed, with the curtains drawn to block out the world, with a pizza.
For so long now, his only link to the wizarding world was Hermione and the Weasley's, and that was rarer than he would have chosen. So for a wizard to turn up so unexpectedly, especially one so close to what happened; especially one that was on the other side, it completely unnerved him. He wasn't sure if he believed it was complete coincidence, but what else could he do? He had heard vaguely of what happened to Malfoy through Hermione and Ron, who had informed him of all the post-Voldemort developments, and he resented the fact that Malfoy, who was a death eater, and who had tried to kill Dumbledore, had got such an easy ride and was not in the public eye, whereas Harry couldn't move for the press people and paparazzi. The hype of the whole 'hero' thing had ruined the life he had built for himself, forcing him to rebuild yet another life in muggle circumstances. Yet Malfoy could waltz in and get a top job at the ministry?! How was that fair?! There was only one thing he was certain of right now; this was dredging up a past that he had done his best to bury, and he didn't like it.
Draco's day was a day of drudgery: taking notes, filling out forms, signing orders. In short: the usual. Harper and Sugden both looked very worse for wear, and were questioning him about why he didn't go with a girl that had been 'pawing over him' all night. The truth was that he'd never really been interested in having relationships. He guessed that he was just waiting for the right person. Of course, this instilled a few gay comments from the boys, but Draco had more on his mind; Harry to be precise.
Seeing Harry today was a big wake up for Draco, and seeing his reaction to him, he'd almost forgotten that used to be how he was treated. Harry was the only part of his past that had not changed, that he had not reconciled for. And, as he stood on his apartment balcony looking out onto the city, he made a pact to himself that he would visit Harry again to rectify that, and to put right the obvious misconception that he still had of Draco. And who knows, it may even turn into a friendship. Draco smiled and shook his head.
"Don't wish for the impossible"
Tell me what you think! Thanks for taking the time to read ^^