In Which Tom Visits A Maid Cafe
Tom strolled past the shop aimlessly before whipping back and staring at it wondrously.
Well. This shop was certainly new to the neighborhood.
It wasn’t even a shop, per se - more like... a cafe. The window shutters and awnings were bright bubblegum pink against the dark grey bricks. A sign proclaiming “Trina’s Maid Cafe - Grand Opening!” hung above the large clear glass windows, and inside he could see a girl wearing a black-and-white maid uniform, her back turned to Tom as she swept the deserted shop.
Well, he thought, genuinely curious as to why there was a maid cafe - what even was that, anyway? - in the middle of Knockturn Alley. He still had a few minutes left of his break. Burke wouldn’t even notice he was gone. Might as well check it out.
The bell above the door jingled as Tom walked inside, and the girl stopped sweeping and looked up to meet his eyes.
Then, three things happened.
First, the girl dropped the broom.
Then, the girl screamed, “Holy shit!”
And then, Tom spoke. “...You’re not a girl.”
The boy - wait, why was a boy wearing a maid’s dress? - glared at him so viciously Tom took an involuntary step backwards. “No shit, Sherlock,” he huffed. Then, he narrowed his eyes - bright green eyes, behind round black-rimmed glasses. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“What do you mean?” Tom asked, suddenly a bit suspicious. From the way the boy was looking at him - no, still glaring at him - it seemed as if he’d recognized Tom. Which was odd, because as Tom racked his mind, he’d never recalled seeing the boy ever in his life.
The boy’s jaw fell open a little. “Oh. Oh - I only meant - er - you don’t seem like the type to...visit a maid cafe,” he finished quickly.
Tom shrugged. “I work in the neighborhood,” he said, glancing around the empty cafe, taking in the gaudy pink decorations and the small circular white tables, devoid of customers. “I just passed by and came in, out of curiosity.”
“Oh,” the boy said, sounding a bit relieved. “Well...what would you like to order?” He hastily picked up the broom from where it had fallen, and Tom’s eyes widened when he saw the boy’s dress flutter up a little.
What in the name of Salazar, Tom thought to himself, trying to smooth out the shock from his features. “Can I see a menu?” Tom asked.
The boy grumbled a little - so much for customer service - and walked over to the counter, fetching a paper menu and shoving it in Tom’s outstretched hand.
“Your prices are unreasonable,” Tom huffed. “Five sickles for a cup of tea?”
“Well, it’s not my prices,” the boy retorted. “Katrina owns this place. She’s got to hike the prices up, because this place offers special customer service. All the staff are supposed to be wearing maid costumes.”
Tom lifted an eyebrow, unimpressed. “And that...justifies the pricing?”
“Well, yeah,” the boy grumbled. “‘Cause we’re supposed to be nice to the pervy old men who come here...guess seeing cute girls in maid costumes gets their rocks off. Which is just sad, to me.”
“But you’re not a girl,” Tom couldn’t help but say.
The boy rolled his eyes. “So you’ve said. Are you going to order anything, Riddle, or just waste my time?”
“I’ll just get a cup of tea.” Wait a minute. Tom’s eyes narrowed. “How do you know my name?”
The boy’s mouth opened to form an ‘o’, as if he realized he’d just made a monumental mistake. “Of course I know you,” he snapped eventually, “You were famous at school.”
“I never saw you around at Hogwarts,” Tom said as he took a seat by one of the small circular tables.
“Must have been because I’m a Gryffindor,” the boy said quickly, “Er, I’ll go get your tea.” He spun on his heel quickly and walked out of the seating area to behind the counter, where he set about pouring a cup of tea.
“Ta-da,” the boy said a minute later, plopping down a tray on the table in front of Tom. The tray held a steaming cup of tea, a small pitcher of milk, a cup of sugar cubes, and a plate piled high with biscuits. “Enjoy!” he tacked on, before spinning around and making to leave as fast as possible.
But Tom wasn’t having it. He reached out and grabbed the boy’s wrist, noting how thin and delicate it was. “Wait,” he insisted, unable to hide his interest in this strange boy, “What about that special customer service?”
The boy withdrew his wrist as if Tom’s grip was scalding. He fixed Tom with a withering stare, and only then did Tom really look at him. The boy’s costume consisted of a black-and-white maid dress, fitted with a corset and an apron. Below the lacey frills of the dress he was wearing thigh-high tights and shiny black high-top boots. Around his neck was a frilly white-and-pink collar and on his head was a white satin headband.
It was, all things considered, ridiculous. Tom should’ve thought it was ridiculous, but somehow, on this boy, it wasn’t exactly-
“Are you done staring?” the boy asked icily, flattening his brown bangs. “Or should I continue to stand here so you can gawk at me?”
Tom’s throat suddenly felt dry. “Um…” But he was saved from the trouble of replying when a portly woman walked through the cafe’s door.
“Harry, dear!” she cried, “How have things been? Sorry I had to run out for a second.” She beamed at Tom. “Oh, we’ve already got our first customer! My name is Katrina Kaelber, I’m the owner of this cafe.”
Tom gave her his most flattering smile, while he ran a hand through his dark curls. “Harry here,” he said, happy to have learned the boy’s name, “Has been an excellent...maid.”
Harry barely managed to cover up his indignant splutter while Katrina cooed affectionately, pinching Harry’s cheeks. Tom hid his smile behind the cup of tea, and after he left to return to Borgin and Burkes, he couldn’t stop thinking about the strange green-eyed boy and how clearly he’d recognized Tom.