draconicsocks wrote Extra Foam for theoriginalkat
Title: Extra Foam
Author: draconicsocks
Rating: PG
Possible Spoilers/Warnings: None, really.
Summary: Draco and Ginny have an encounter at the local coffeeshop.
Author's Notes: My prompt (#30) asked for a WAFF fic with a mention of cherries and the phrase "what's wrong with sweet?" Here it is! Happy holidays to my requester, and all you D/Gers.
Betas: nnaysayer, overtherainbow (not on LJ)
Wind and rain swept Ginny through the narrow streets of Diagon Alley, battering against her cloak and stinging in her eyes. She was beginning to sorely regret not grabbing an umbrella before heading out to work. The Wizard Wireless had issued a warning about rain, but Ginny had always been a bit too optimistic.
Recognizing the warm glow of one of her favorite cafés, she stepped into the little shop eagerly, deeply inhaling the sweet scent of coffee and pastries as she stepped up to the register.
"I'd like a cherry danish and a small coffee please," Ginny ordered, and loosening her thick scarf and ruffling her hand through her wet hair.
"Will that be everything?" asked the witch behind the counter, waving a wand over a receipt.
"Yes, thank you," said Ginny, unearthing her wallet from her purse, and promptly handing over the necessary coins.
The barista-witch eyed her hesitantly after taking the money, and then leaned over the counter conspiratorially. "Miss," she hissed melodramatically, "there's a restroom right over there - taking a glance in a mirror would be a good idea."
Ginny opened and shut her mouth a couple of times. Nerves rattled, she straightened and patted her limp hair self-consciously. She awkwardly glanced around the café, thankful that no one seemed to have been within earshot. "I can't look that bad," she said, giggling embarrassedly.
The barista said nothing in response, pursing her lips and handing her the coffee and danish in chilly silence.
"I assure you," a voice said as she whirled around to face the condiment counter. "If anyone can look bad, it's you." Draco Malfoy stood there, selecting the right lid for his drink.
She set her coffee down next to his a little too hard, splashing a bit of it out of the cup. She pulled her now scalded fingers away, and stuck them in her mouth miserably.
Draco watched this with thinly-veiled amusement, lips cranked to the side in an attempt to hold back snide laughter.
"I didn't realize you frequented this establishment, Malfoy," Ginny said icily, bumping elbows with him as she made a reach for the creamer.
He jostled her back with equal bitterness, plucking the sugar carafe away from her corner of the counter. "It is awfully pedestrian," he said, "but Le Petite's is undergoing renovations, and the chef insisted that he knew the owner of this joint. Since it was right on the way to work-"
"I didn't realize the Death Eater Revival Movement met in this part of town," she snapped, pouring a copious amount of cream into her cup.
He frowned at this peripherally, but became preoccupied as he unleashed a continuous stream of sugar into his own. "I work for the Daily Prophet," he said, "I don't get paid hardly enough to be throwing it away on any outrageous monthly membership dues."
She plunked the creamer down on the island and let out a snort of disbelief. "Right. You haven't got any money to spare at all."
Draco watched the sugar continue to flow into his coffee and shrugged his shoulders. "I just don't spend it on frivolous political parties is all. I'm a little different from my father." With this, he set the sugar down and capped his coffee.
She struggled with the lid on her own, and then finally snapped it into place. "You know, Malfoy," she said, putting her hands on her hips and beginning to walk around him. "You really are different from your father. Well, I mean, for one, you haven't got any real power. At least your father tortured people, killed people. And what is it you do again?"
Draco turned and watched her as she circled, placing them in opposite positions. "I write men's fashion editorials," he said, entirely unembarrassed.
"Ah," she hissed, "how entirely intimidating."
"You would be surprised," he said smoothly, "at just how many men cower at the prospect of figuring out when it's appropriate to wear a vest." He smoothed out the one he was wearing as an afterthought.
"How charitable of you to educate them," she sneered, and reached for the cup beside her, taking a hearty swig.
She then promptly spat it out, spraying him in a fine mist of coffee. "Great gods," she sputtered, looking down at the cup. "This isn't mine."
"A keen observation," said Draco, grimly swiping a napkin across his face.
"What did you put in that?" Ginny asked, baffled, holding it out for him.
Draco gingerly switched cups with her. "I don't really measure," he said, "but I pause for an approximate six-count while I pour the sugar."
"That's utterly disgusting!" she shrieked, and cradled her actual cup close to her nose gratefully. She took a long sip. "Coffee shouldn't be sweet."
"Excuse me?" Draco said haughtily. "What's wrong with sweet? Look, I realize maybe your family wasn't able to afford sugar growing up, but the rest of the free world was."
"Coffee is supposed to be bitter," she stressed. "You should know all about bitter."
"Coffee," Draco said with a large sigh, rolling his eyes. "Coffee should be 'black as hell, strong as death, and sweet as love'."
Ginny said nothing, staring at him with a suspicious expression.
"Turkish proverb," he said, after a moment.
Someone in the café cleared their throat, and Draco and Ginny turned to see a line of irritated customers waiting on the creamer and sugar. The barista-witch was frowning, hands on hips, in front of the crowd. "Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy," she said waspishly, "if you wouldn't mind moving the foreplay away from the creamer. Other customers exist."
Ginny had the dignity to look a bit embarrassed, but Draco merely raised an eyebrow. "I'll see you after work," he said, dropping a kiss on her cheek as he left.
She could hear his umbrella open loudly as he stepped outside, and again silently cursed her forgetfulness for not bringing one as well. She looked back at the disgruntled customers awkwardly.
Then, abruptly, Draco had stepped back in, grabbed her hand possessively and yanked her out the door behind him. She looked up at the umbrella he now shared with her, and smiled into her next sip of coffee. The streets and winds were not as harsh anymore.
ORIGINAL REQUEST:
BRIEFLY describe what you'd like to receive: something that fits the definition of a WAFF fic.
The tone/mood of the fic: happy or reminiscent
A Theme/element/line of dialogue/object you want in your fic: i only have 2 requirements: it needs to include cherries (in any way) and the phrase "What's wrong with sweet?" (or something to that general effect... no need to be exact)
Canon or AU? either
Rating of the the fic you want: any
Deal Breakers (what don't you want?): no death. that's it... ginny/draco can't be dead or die.
Author: draconicsocks
Rating: PG
Possible Spoilers/Warnings: None, really.
Summary: Draco and Ginny have an encounter at the local coffeeshop.
Author's Notes: My prompt (#30) asked for a WAFF fic with a mention of cherries and the phrase "what's wrong with sweet?" Here it is! Happy holidays to my requester, and all you D/Gers.
Betas: nnaysayer, overtherainbow (not on LJ)
Wind and rain swept Ginny through the narrow streets of Diagon Alley, battering against her cloak and stinging in her eyes. She was beginning to sorely regret not grabbing an umbrella before heading out to work. The Wizard Wireless had issued a warning about rain, but Ginny had always been a bit too optimistic.
Recognizing the warm glow of one of her favorite cafés, she stepped into the little shop eagerly, deeply inhaling the sweet scent of coffee and pastries as she stepped up to the register.
"I'd like a cherry danish and a small coffee please," Ginny ordered, and loosening her thick scarf and ruffling her hand through her wet hair.
"Will that be everything?" asked the witch behind the counter, waving a wand over a receipt.
"Yes, thank you," said Ginny, unearthing her wallet from her purse, and promptly handing over the necessary coins.
The barista-witch eyed her hesitantly after taking the money, and then leaned over the counter conspiratorially. "Miss," she hissed melodramatically, "there's a restroom right over there - taking a glance in a mirror would be a good idea."
Ginny opened and shut her mouth a couple of times. Nerves rattled, she straightened and patted her limp hair self-consciously. She awkwardly glanced around the café, thankful that no one seemed to have been within earshot. "I can't look that bad," she said, giggling embarrassedly.
The barista said nothing in response, pursing her lips and handing her the coffee and danish in chilly silence.
"I assure you," a voice said as she whirled around to face the condiment counter. "If anyone can look bad, it's you." Draco Malfoy stood there, selecting the right lid for his drink.
She set her coffee down next to his a little too hard, splashing a bit of it out of the cup. She pulled her now scalded fingers away, and stuck them in her mouth miserably.
Draco watched this with thinly-veiled amusement, lips cranked to the side in an attempt to hold back snide laughter.
"I didn't realize you frequented this establishment, Malfoy," Ginny said icily, bumping elbows with him as she made a reach for the creamer.
He jostled her back with equal bitterness, plucking the sugar carafe away from her corner of the counter. "It is awfully pedestrian," he said, "but Le Petite's is undergoing renovations, and the chef insisted that he knew the owner of this joint. Since it was right on the way to work-"
"I didn't realize the Death Eater Revival Movement met in this part of town," she snapped, pouring a copious amount of cream into her cup.
He frowned at this peripherally, but became preoccupied as he unleashed a continuous stream of sugar into his own. "I work for the Daily Prophet," he said, "I don't get paid hardly enough to be throwing it away on any outrageous monthly membership dues."
She plunked the creamer down on the island and let out a snort of disbelief. "Right. You haven't got any money to spare at all."
Draco watched the sugar continue to flow into his coffee and shrugged his shoulders. "I just don't spend it on frivolous political parties is all. I'm a little different from my father." With this, he set the sugar down and capped his coffee.
She struggled with the lid on her own, and then finally snapped it into place. "You know, Malfoy," she said, putting her hands on her hips and beginning to walk around him. "You really are different from your father. Well, I mean, for one, you haven't got any real power. At least your father tortured people, killed people. And what is it you do again?"
Draco turned and watched her as she circled, placing them in opposite positions. "I write men's fashion editorials," he said, entirely unembarrassed.
"Ah," she hissed, "how entirely intimidating."
"You would be surprised," he said smoothly, "at just how many men cower at the prospect of figuring out when it's appropriate to wear a vest." He smoothed out the one he was wearing as an afterthought.
"How charitable of you to educate them," she sneered, and reached for the cup beside her, taking a hearty swig.
She then promptly spat it out, spraying him in a fine mist of coffee. "Great gods," she sputtered, looking down at the cup. "This isn't mine."
"A keen observation," said Draco, grimly swiping a napkin across his face.
"What did you put in that?" Ginny asked, baffled, holding it out for him.
Draco gingerly switched cups with her. "I don't really measure," he said, "but I pause for an approximate six-count while I pour the sugar."
"That's utterly disgusting!" she shrieked, and cradled her actual cup close to her nose gratefully. She took a long sip. "Coffee shouldn't be sweet."
"Excuse me?" Draco said haughtily. "What's wrong with sweet? Look, I realize maybe your family wasn't able to afford sugar growing up, but the rest of the free world was."
"Coffee is supposed to be bitter," she stressed. "You should know all about bitter."
"Coffee," Draco said with a large sigh, rolling his eyes. "Coffee should be 'black as hell, strong as death, and sweet as love'."
Ginny said nothing, staring at him with a suspicious expression.
"Turkish proverb," he said, after a moment.
Someone in the café cleared their throat, and Draco and Ginny turned to see a line of irritated customers waiting on the creamer and sugar. The barista-witch was frowning, hands on hips, in front of the crowd. "Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy," she said waspishly, "if you wouldn't mind moving the foreplay away from the creamer. Other customers exist."
Ginny had the dignity to look a bit embarrassed, but Draco merely raised an eyebrow. "I'll see you after work," he said, dropping a kiss on her cheek as he left.
She could hear his umbrella open loudly as he stepped outside, and again silently cursed her forgetfulness for not bringing one as well. She looked back at the disgruntled customers awkwardly.
Then, abruptly, Draco had stepped back in, grabbed her hand possessively and yanked her out the door behind him. She looked up at the umbrella he now shared with her, and smiled into her next sip of coffee. The streets and winds were not as harsh anymore.
ORIGINAL REQUEST:
BRIEFLY describe what you'd like to receive: something that fits the definition of a WAFF fic.
The tone/mood of the fic: happy or reminiscent
A Theme/element/line of dialogue/object you want in your fic: i only have 2 requirements: it needs to include cherries (in any way) and the phrase "What's wrong with sweet?" (or something to that general effect... no need to be exact)
Canon or AU? either
Rating of the the fic you want: any
Deal Breakers (what don't you want?): no death. that's it... ginny/draco can't be dead or die.