Cafe Rameau
"Look who's alive to show up for our Sunday coffee."
Harry greeted with a mischievous grin as he met Hermione at the corner of the street near their regular cafe place.
Every first Sunday of the month since they got their jobs, they decided to either stay in for some coffee or grab a bagel or two before heading elsewhere.
Harry noticed that it helped Hermione to focus better on all her load work for the coming month. This habit also helped him ease her from all her recent worries about most things that were both work and non-work-related.
Hermione looked up at him from behind a very thick pair of black Muggle shades, a small purse under her arm, and the book she had been trying to finish for weeks now in her other hand.
"Not another word." Hermione spat at him as Harry opened his mouth to make another comment.
"All I'm about to say is that I warned you last night to take it easy on the margaritas and the punch over the - "
"I didn't know it was heavily loaded with alcohol -" Hermione argued with him as they walked down the street. "Besides, it was a party. It's my only way to ease myself from stress. It's not like we do it every day."
"Yup, that's growing up backward," Harry said motioning her nearer him as she had difficulty walking straight. "you should have partied when we were younger."
Hermione rolled her eyes at him under her thick shades.
Harry laughed hard and took her by the hand, gently holding her by the arm as he stirred their way to the cafe.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Three, two, one..."
A flicker of light.
A loud sound.
The flicker of light diminishing into oblivion.
No.
A flicker of light.
A sound.
The flicker of light diminishing into oblivion.
No, no.
Another loud sound.
A scream of anger.
A scream of agony.
But no matter what, there was nothing that ever worked.
The magic was just too strong.
Too strong in fact to be anything of their world.
It was different, it was difficult to defeat & impossible to attain.
Again.
But the flicker of light has glowed of lesser color.
The sound was barely audible.
The light diminished, gone.
There was nothing else but darkness.
Nothing.
There was nothing that could be done.
From a raging pulse to one that was slowing down by the minutes.
A feeling of restlessness and then hopelessness.
Darkness.
There was nothing but darkness.
There was no help, no rescue coming.
A tear fell.
The thing is that nobody would even care.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"By the way, I couldn't stay," Harry said. "I have to make a quick visit to the office. We're monitoring some activity. I need to be there because I'm the least expert at the subject we're working on."
"Can I go with you?"
"No." Harry said shaking his head and placing his hand over her mouth. "Not a debate, 'Mione. You should get some day off and relaxation. You're overworked. We've talked about your 'rest day' already. Besides, it won't take long. I'll meet you by lunch at the steakhouse."
"I can go with you if you'll be quick." Hermione still argued. "I'll take my book and coffee with me and-"
"No." Harry said with finality in his tone as they reached the cafe. "Come on, let's get our usual then I'll go off early so I can make it back in time before lunch. Are you going to wear that inside?"
"Yes." Hermione said, pressing her shades closer to her face. "I don't want to see you leave."
Harry threw his head back as he laughed so hard while he opened the door for an elderly couple who were just about to leave the cafe.
Cafe Rameau was a classic yet timeless cafe at this special spot in London.
It was situated in the middle of their small area & only slightly closer to Hermione's place than Harry's.
They first discovered the place right after graduation when Neville wanted to meet them all there for some small lunch. He also delivered the news that he was accepted as an apprentice to professor Sprout and would be starting his work within two weeks after graduation.
The food served was great but apart from that the very accomodating and friendly gestures from the cook to the waiters and the evening bartenders were absolutely something anyone would go back for.
The interior and exterior design was also well-built, well-made & designed based on what looked like an old London house or library.
It was small yet cozy and it has been home to many old folks, townies, students, and Ministry employees as it was also just a few blocks away from it.
The line for to-go orders was slightly long that morning & the line for those who would stay in was not much different either.
"You're staying in, right?" Harry asked her as they both craned their necks to read the menu they've already memorized anyway.
"I guess given I'll meet you at the steakhouse in about two or three hours," Hermione said lowering her shades for a moment to see if there were anyone they knew from the line. "I guess I'll take our usual table at the corner. Can you get me a blueberry muffin, some cheese over the side, and a cafe mocha? Warm, not hot. Nothing extra. I just need to look for Roberto so he can clean up our table."
Harry whirled around but she was gone before he could say that he wouldn't stay long to wait in line with her.
Hermione squeezed her way through the two lines to look for the friendly face of the cafe's manager whom they had befriended enough by now to take in their special requests given any day.
"Have you seen Roberto?" Hermione asked gently tapping the back of one of the young waiters. "I need to have our spot cleaned in case someone had settled -"
"He might be at the back kitchen, miss." the waiter answered her excitedly recognizing who she was. "I will call him. I'll ask him to see you at your table. Usual spot?"
"Yes. That would be perfect." Hermione giddily replied. "And oh, I have my order with Mr. Potter. Thank you!"
The waiter nodded excitedly at her as he cleared up another table for another guest before heading to the back kitchen.
Hermione smiled and moved away from the table when the snotty-looking witch was staring at her with a raised brow as if she wanted her table.
She walked away from it, turning her head through the crowd to see if Harry was already ordering at the counter to no avail.
"Excuse me, excuse me." Hermione whispered as she maneuvered herself through the small cafe. "Excuse - "
"Hermione!" the familiar voice called her making her twirl her head back.
Roberto stood a few feet from her, beaming.
Although they would never tell a soul, Harry & Hermione both found it amusing to think that Roberto reminded them a lot of Hagrid.
A bearded man with a friendly & warm smile for everyone despite looking & being the biggest individual in the room.
"Where's Harry?" he asked her as she gave a friendly peck over the cheek that he exchanged for a warm friendly embrace.
"Ordering food," Hermione said as she started pulling him across the room to their corner. "He wouldn't stay long though. But I would. Just need a bit of cleaning to our table and of course a little chat with you how you've been-"
"Can I offer you another table?" Roberto asked her as they neared their corner. "I would set up a more comfortable spot for you and Harry-"
"No, I'm fine there-"
"Yes, but someone's had that table occupied since early morning."
He let Hermione's hand go just as they reached the table.
Hermione opened her mouth to say something to him when she saw that someone whose face was hidden behind a book and whose being is buried behind tall stacks of books had occupied their table.
"I wanted to reserve the table for you, knowing the day," Roberto said apologetically as Hermione turned to him with a surprised look over her face. "I didn't think he'd be here on a Sunday. He's been here every day since last week. Sitting there at the same place, drinking & reading. He was always here at the same time, barely ate and -"
"Maybe I can talk him to move." Hermione had said with a defiant tone and confidence in her face. "I think you should ask your team to set up that nice table you just offered me."
Hermione winked at Roberto.
"Right. Okay. I'm not sure that's a good idea. But let's try to get something another table set up." Roberto replied, he reluctantly smiled at her before walking away to do as she kindly asked.
"No, it'll be fine. I promise." Hermione said with a smile as she moved towards their table. "See you in a bit."
Hermione stood with pursed-lip thinking of what to say to the person occupying their favourite spot.
But it was already a minute and there was no sign that the individual even noticed her presence in front of the table.
The book was not lowered, nor a page turned by the person holding it.
Hermione rolled her eyes.
She cleared her throat, hot-headedly rolling her shades back up over her head.
No movement. No reaction.
She cleared her throat louder this time and slightly tapped her foot on the floor so she would be heard.
Still nothing.
"Bloody hell." Hermione said rolling her eyes and losing patience. "Excuse me?"
She moved closer to the table, tapping her hand over the pile of books to gain attention.
"Excuse me? Hey there. Hey. Excuse me?"
Hermione repeated a little louder and the impatience over her voice was now quite audible.
"I apologize," a deep voice answered. "But what is this clamor all for?"
It took a while getting anything, and when she did, her jaw dropped with her eyes very wide.
"You." she said in a loud and accusatory tone. "What are you doing here? Why are you on my chair?"
The book was slowly lowered to reveal the face of none other than prince Loki himself.
"Me?" he asked lowering the book over the table and sitting back over the chair. "Well, don't I know you."
A glimmer of surprise was obvious in his eyes but the annoyed expression over his face immediately vanished and was replaced by a charming smile that Hermione found annoying.
She didn't like it when people wore an expression she didn't understand nor was she able to read.
But he sat there, smiling up at her with an enigmatic look over his handsome face.
He was smiling yet there was something deeper & different about his eyes that made Hermione feel that this man was nothing short of just a prince or whatever it was that he claimed to be.