#coffee #shop #fluff
Sorry, I’m late,” Harry said as he hurriedly tied on his apron. “I swear it was the tube this - What? What’s wrong?”
Harry took in his boss’s expression and realised he wasn’t in trouble for being late. If anything, it was his boss that looked apologetic.
“I need you to train our new barista,” Tonks said, a weak smile not quite reaching her eyes.
“Of course,” Harry answered automatically. He had trained new staff before. It wasn’t too hard as long as the cafe wasn’t overrun with customers. And it was only a Tuesday. “Are they here yet?”
Tonks jerked an arm behind her and stepped to the side so Harry could see. Leaning on the counter by the cafe’s coffee machine was a tall, blonde-haired man with pointy features and long limbs. He was wearing the standard cafe apron over a three piece suit and a crisp white shirt secured with silver cufflinks. Despite the cups piling up next to the machine left by the register staff, he didn’t appear interested in fulfilling any orders.
“He’s…a little difficult,” Tonks explained, “But he’s my cousin and I promised his mother I’d get him a job. I’ve been trying to teach him but he’s testing my patience. Can you please take him off my hands so I can do some accounting? Please?”
Harry looked the man up and down. The phrase ‘fish out of water’ came to mind…“He doesn’t look like he needs a job.”
“He didn’t. Until last week. His parents were just jailed for fraud and embezzlement. They lost everything.”
Harry supposed he should feel sorry for the man, losing his parents, losing his money all in one go. But when the man stood there, with a snotty, disinterested expression, dressed in the most inappropriate clothes, that a month of Harry’s shifts still wouldn’t cover, it was hard to feel anything but resentment.
He sighed and nodded at Tonks. “I’l teach him,” he agreed.
Tonks actually jumped with relief - making Harry immediately regret his decision - and clapped Harry on the shoulder appreciatively before wasting no time in rushing back into the office in the cafe kitchens.
Harry took a deep breath and rolled his shoulders back. He could handle a snotty rich kid. He headed over quickly, conscious of the mounting coffee orders.
“Hey, I’m Harry,” he said on approach, holding out a hand. The man stared at it, his expression unchanging. “This is the part where you tell me your name and we shake hands,” Harry prompted.
The man’s lip curled. “Malfoy. Draco Malfoy,” he said, still making no move to shake.
Harry lowered his hand, already understanding why Tonks had taken the opportunity to run away when she did. “So, what do you know about coffee?” He asked.
That got a reaction. The man - Draco - pushed off the counter and stood up straight, staring down at Harry pointedly. “I’m not a moron. I know how to make coffee.”
Harry blinked back up at Draco for a moment. He hadn’t noticed from afar how impossibly grey the man’s eyes were.