Granger's Café

Pairing: Draco/Harry.

Disclaimer: Hermione decides that the drama in the wizarding world is growing too much. She decides to open up a café in the muggle world, so as to enjoy simplicity during the day. Little does she know that one of the applicants for a job there, will cause a whole new circle of drama for her. And how exactly will her little café benefit Harry and Draco's lives, and how will it banish the drama from both worlds they live in? You know what they say, about Granger's café; her food is like magic, that's what they say, because it keeps all your problems and troubles at bay.

Chapter eight: Blue At Heart

Harry's mouth ran dry as his eyes roamed over the person before him. This could not possibly be the Malfoy that he had gone to Hogwart's with. His blond hair had lost some of it's glimmering shine, his face looked sallow and as though he had not been eating for quite a while, he had dark rings under his eyes that he had tried to cover with some form of weak glamour, and his clothes looked as though they belonged to someone else, even for muggle clothes. His mouth must have dropped open because Malfoy scowled at him and his upper lip curled into a subtle sneer, "stop gaping, Potter, if you want to catch flies with that gob of yours, you can do it outside"

Harry shook his head and snapped out of his trance, "I'm sorry, Ma-Draco" the name tasted weird on his tongue.

Malfoy rolled his eyes, " so that was two cappuccino's and two small glasses of strawberry milkshake?" Harry nodded dumbly. Malfoy nodded and went to the small window between the café and the kitchen. The drinks were already there so he merely grabbed them, placed them artistically on a tray and slid the tray across the counter to Harry. "Have a nice day. Next?" Harry muttered a small, surprised 'thank you' before walking away from the counter on unsteady feet.

When he arrived back at the table Ron frowned at Harry's surprised face. "Hey mate, what's up with you? You look as if you've seen a ghost or something"

Harry gave a weak smile, "not quite Ron" he gave a weak laugh, before picking up his steaming cup of cappuccino and took a sip, revelling in how the warm liquid woke up his senses once again. His nerves were shaking as he downed the rest of his cappuccino. His emerald eyes were darting around everywhere as though he was hiding a demented secret. Why was Malfoy here? Had Hermione lost her mind? Then it struck him. Poor Hermione was under the Imperious curse! He had to do something ... but not with everyone else here. He needed to go back as soon as everyone else had left.

It was eight o'clock in the evening when the last cluster of customer's drifted out of the door. Harry had given Lily to Ron, leaving the red-head to apparate home with the two toddler's who were falling asleep inside against his chest. Ron had asked what Harry was up to, but he had merely shaken his head. Ron reluctantly sighed and departed, leaving Harry, Mona, Hermione and Draco ... alone. Harry licked his lips, not wanting to be seen just yet, ducked into the men's toilets and hid in one of the cubicles. He held his breath and felt his heart beat harder against his ribs as soon as Mona called out 'goodnight, I'll see you tomorrow' and the door of the café tinkled closed. Silence reigned. He swallowed thickly. This was his chance. He had not heard Malfoy leave so he figured he was still inside. Taking a deep breath he unlocked the cubicle door and stepped down off the toilet seat. He was thankful his converses did not squeak on the tiles. "Hey Draco could you scrub the bathroom floor for me?" Harry froze. A bead of cool sweat ran down the back of his neck. His muscles were as tense as stone. He swallowed stiffly. What was he going to do? He looked around the sleek bathroom frantically before sighing. He had to go back the way he came. Climbing carefully up onto the toilet seat, he turned around, eased the door shut and nudged it closed, he didn't lock it, but it far closed far enough to not look too suspicious.

The footsteps approached and the bathroom door crashed open with someone sighing heavily, a growl coming through at the back of their throat. "Only thing I hate about this job is always cleaning the bathroom ... ALWAYS me!" a bucket crashed onto the tiles making Harry cringe. He saw the blonde through the gap in the door and frowned. Malfoy cleaning bathrooms? Something definitely wasn't right. If he did have Hermione under the imperious then why would he begrudge himself with cleaning floors? It didn't make sense to him. He was about to apparate away when his foot slipped and landed straight in the toilet bowl. He held his breath as silence descended within the bathroom.

Draco clenched his hand around his wand, muscles quivering slightly as he slowly straightened up on the semi-soaked tiled floor. What if it was a death eater? How did they find him? Fuck! What was he going to do? Sweat broke out onto his forehead as he inched along the aisle of cubicles. Taking a deep breath he figured he might as well confront whomever it was. The lined himself up with the first door, raised his foot and kicked it inwards. He knew he had to keep going.

Harry held his breath as the banging of cubicle doors drew ever nearer to his own hiding place. He couldn't apparate. It was too risky. He was now in a very awkward position; his right leg was halfway down the toilet, his other leg and bent at an odd angle against the opposite wall, and his spine was curled into at a strange angle. It was becoming hard to breathe. BANG! The cubicle door beside him collided into the wall it was hinged to. This was it. He was a dead man. He leant forward to lock the door, at least it would buy him a few more second to think about what to do. Malfoy's shadow drew level with his cubicle. The next thing he knew something hard smashed into his forehead making him scream out as the pain ripped through his skull as he fell sideways out of the toilet bowl, causing his right knee to twist painfully out of joint. He hit the tiled floor with a painful crash, his head bouncing slightly, another scream scraping out of his lungs. He just about managed to make out Malfoy's blurred image, which made him realise that his glasses had fallen from his nose.

"POTTER? WHAT THE BLOODY HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE?"

Harry barely had any breath in him to reply with a raspy, "falling ... screaming ..."

Malfoy licked his lips and shoved his wand away before kneeling down and easing Harry back down as he tried to sit up to breathe. "Don't move" he stated firmly, the hand never leaving Harry's chest. Harry drew in a few deep breaths trying to calm his racing heart. Malfoy's eyes narrowed as he examined Harry's legs. "It looks like you've twisted your knee. You cannot walk or apparate on that"

"I have to go home ... my daughter will get worried ..."

"She'll be fine for one evening. Now help me get you upstairs"

"U-upstairs? Harry frowned. What the hell was upstairs?

Malfoy rolled his tired grey eyes, "yes. Hermione has a few apartments upstairs and she's let me move in a few weeks before everyone else so I can get settled in"

"Did you just call Hermione by her given name?"

"Yes, what of it?" Malfoy snapped irritably.

Harry narrowed his eyes, "what no mudblood comments?"

Malfoy sighed, "listen Potter, Granger has been good to me. She's helped me get back on my feet. Now you and I can either be civil with one another or hurt Hermione by causing a disruption in her new place. So? Civil?"

"I ..." Harry merely nodded as Malfoy's slender arms wrapped themselves around his shoulder and chest and heaved him up onto his unstable legs. Harry groaned and clutched onto Malfoy's shirt.

"Bloody hell, Potter, help me a bit at least" the blond growled as he shifted his weight to hold Harry tighter. Harry tried to adjust himself into a more comfortable position before Malfoy apparated three floors up the the only room in the highest section of the building.

Harry looked around as Malfoy walked across the carpeted floor of the landing before turning around a small breakfast island and into the living room. He leaned over and placed Harry down on the plush sofa before turning his back on the brunette and walking over to the kitchen. Harry looked around the living room; it was not too spacious but large enough for a person or perhaps even two to live comfortably with one another, the carpet was a soft, fluffy black and the sofa was made from plush sapphire blue material that made Harry want to close his eyes and fall asleep. The walls were painted with several different blue in various sized, over-lapping squares. Harry was surprised at the colour scheme. In all honesty he had suspected everything to be green, silver and black. There was a single photo-frame on the side-table. It beheld a moving photograph of Malfoy and Scorpius laughing on a summer day in a muggle park. Harry smiled slightly. "That's a nice picture" Malfoy looked over his shoulder, gave a small nod and returned his attention to the counter. Harry wondered what he was doing but soon his unasked question was answered as Malfoy turned around carrying a neatly folded towel that dripped a bit as he moved.

When Harry narrowed his eyes Malfoy clicked his tongue, "it's ice" he stated bluntly. He took a seat on his coffee table and tentatively placed the make-shift ice-bag on Harry's knee. Harry winced and groaned, jerking slightly. Malfoy's hands began to gently massage the tender area around Harry's knee, earning wincing noises from Harry's mouth. "Just try to relax, okay Harry? It won't take that long"

"Take long for what?" Harry hissed through clenched teeth, barely registering that Malfoy had called him by his first name.

"The ice in that towel has healing potions in them. Technically they set fire to the acid in your stomach which is why you cannot digest them like normal potions. So as soon as they make contact with skin they seep through into the inflamed or damaged area"

Harry stared at him with wide eyes. "Thank you Professor Snape" Malfoy narrowed his eyes and glared at Harry though his glare softened when he saw the purple bruise blooming over the lightening bolt shaped scar. A shadow passed over his eyes.

"You know I don't get you, Potter"

Harry started. Was Malfoy actually about to initiate a civil conversation between themselves? He swallowed thickly, "I ... what do you mean?"

Malfoy looked at him, "how do you do it? I mean, all your life you've been tortured, tormented and abused and yet you still manage to come out on top I just ... I don't know how you have the energy to do it"

Harry blinked owlishly. "Well to be honest with you, I had so much help I feel like a little kid cheating on every major test in my life"

Malfoy frowned. "But you ... you're our saviour. You rid us of the Dark lord. Is there anything you can't do?"

Harry looked up into the quiet desperation swimming within the twin orbs of molten silver. "Let me see, I can't keep a good marriage. I can't tell when my daughter is being victimised by her own mother. I can't tell when my wife is having an affair with Viktor Krum. I can't find a place to live. I can't use my status to get into Uni, not that I want to but now I have to work twice as hard in something I wasn't even educated in. And on top of that ... I can't find the courage to tell my son's that I've left their whore of a mother and am now squatting at my godfather's house"

Malfoy let out a huge sigh. "Well I think I can top that"

Harry gave an involuntary snort, "oh really, Malfoy?" the childish challenge made both men feel more at home, back in familiar territory.

"Let's see; after the day I returned your daughter to you at the station I was thrown into the basement. Continuously raped by my wife and father. Beaten, tortured, abused, you name it, they did it to me. Thankfully my mother gave me a portkey to King's Cross. I was taken to hospital and then to a homeless shelter. I worked as a janitor in a dingy pub. I applied for a job here. Decorated these apartments with Hermione. Helped out downstairs. Now I work here, as you can tell"

Harry allowed his head to loll onto the arm of the sofa, "wow. Who would have thought that the Prince of Slytherin and the Gryffindor Golden boy would have ended up so screwed over?"

"Oh the irony will make the Dark Lord cackle in his grave" Malfoy stood up, turned and sad beside Harry on the sofa next to his legs. "Do you fancy a drink?"

Harry shrugged, "um ... sure what do you have?"

"Only water at the moment. That okay?

"Yeah sure" Malfoy nodded and went back to the kitchen where he quickly poured two glasses of water and then returned to the sofa. "Thanks" Harry muttered before downing the glass, leaning over and placing it on the table, "ah, now I feel more awake" Malfoy breathed a weak smile and shook his head before downing his own glass and placing it on the table.

"Do you want you want me to apparate you home?"

"No, thank. I'll be fine"

Malfoy snorted, "Potter there is no chance that you are going to be able to apparate or walk out of this apartment on those legs" Harry was about to protest but was silenced by the firm grip Malfoy placed on his sore knee. He winced and yelped when he felt the touch.

"Okay! I get your point! Call me a cab then or something"

Malfoy tensed up, "I'm not sure about that but I still think that it is a bad idea"

"Well what do you want me to do? Stay here? That's a laugh Malfoy, you hate me remember? Just call Hermione or something and I'm sure she can take me home"

Malfoy bristled. "Sorry for trying to do a descent thing for once in my life, Potter" Harry rolled his eyes. There was no way he was being guilt-tripped into feeling bad for Malfoy of all people. He felt a weight drop into his stomach at how Malfoy's went from civil and almost perky, like he barely had contact with humans, to dead-pan and emotionless. The guilt hit him hard in the chest when Malfoy moved off of the sofa.

Draco moved into the kitchen, snatched the phone up and dialled Hermione's number. The phone rang three times before it was picked up. "Hello?"

"Granger. It's Draco. Potter is here with a busted leg and he needs to get home. Come and pick him up" without waiting for Hermione to answer he shoved the phone back on its hook before turning and stalking into the living room.

"That wasn't very polite" Potter stated matter-of-factly.

"Piss off Potter!" Draco snarled as he stormed into his bedroom, slammed the door shut and cast several silencing charms around his room. He didn't hear Hermione come by three minutes later and collect Potter up to take back to wherever the hell he was living at the moment. He dragged the double pillows over onto his side of the bed, bundled them up against his chest and cried into them. This was still a strange experience for him. He had done it once in sixth year and once in seventh year ... and now. Why was it always when Potter was involved, that he cried? There was no connection, it was just a coincidence. It had to be. Why did Potter have to be such a git all of the time? Did he enjoy making Draco's life miserable? Probably.

"We had a civil moment and then his ego catches up with him. Stupid Gryffindor bastard!" a strangling sensation gripped his throat and all of a sudden he was leaning over the en suite toilet bowl throwing up the sweet cakes and sandwiches Hermione had made for him earlier. One he was finished he grabbed half a roll of tissue and wiped his mouth. He scrubbed his mouth and chin until they felt raw. He still felt dirty and winced. Damn Potter, making him feel dirty. Now he'd have to have another shower. Fifth one that day. He rinsed his mouth out with cold water and turned the shower on, shivering as he listened to the spray hitting the tiled walls. He needed to fight one battle at a time, and he was okay with that, he just did not think that one of his battle's would be with Saint Bloody Potter.