The Coffee
Harry stared for a moment at the coffee cup on his desk. Then he opened a chat window and messaged Hermione.
HP: help
HGW: What have you done now, Harry?
HP: why is it you assume
HGW: Am I wrong?
HP: ...yes actually
HGW: I’m sorry. What’s happened?
HP: tom stopped by my office
HGW: Just a moment.
He had barely been furrowing his brow at the computer for two minutes when his mobile rang. It was Hermione, of course.
“I’m going to do some research. There must be some kind of legal recourse here, even if restraining orders are stupidly limited.”
“Thanks for your concern, Hermione,” said Harry, “But I’m more baffled than anything.”
“Oh, Harry,” she sighed, pity in her voice. “Why don’t you just tell me what happened?”
“Tom brought me coffee.”
“Elaborate.”
“I was in my office, doing paperwork, when in comes Tom. Holding a cup of coffee. Which he hands over to me. Claims he just wanted to say hello.”
“Oh no.”
“Says he’s worried I’m working too hard. That I always work too hard when there’s n--when there’s no one to--”
“Oh, Harry.”
“What the fuck, Hermione?” Harry was not going to cry. He was not.
“...standard abusive behavior,” Hermione was muttering. “Really an elaborate form of gaslighting, getting witnesses to claim he meant no harm when…”
“You’re not helping,” Harry interrupted her.
“Oh! Oh, Harry, I’m sorry.”
“You’ve said.”
“I really am sorry he’s doing this, though,” she insisted. “You deserve better, Harry. You’re so good, and you don’t deserve this.”
“Okay,” said Harry hollowly.
“I’m going to do some research.”
“Okay,” Harry said again, and they hung up. So he texted Ron.
HP: tom stopped by my office today
RGW: shit
HP: yeah
HP: brought me coffee
HP: aztec mocha
RGW: dont drink it
HP: dont worry i wont
RGW: good
RGW: he say anything?
HP: fake concern
HP: very supersilius
HP: *supercilious
HP: he was an arse as usual is what i mean
RGW: ur spending too much time w/ hermione
HP: ur not wrong
RGW: im sorry about all this mate. it blows.
HP: yeah
RGW: shit, got a meeting
RGW: sorry mate
HP: s ok.
RGW: later
HP: yeah
Harry sighed, put down his phone, and opened up his paperwork again.
When, some twenty minutes later, he hadn’t completed a single line, he opened his email.
To: Draco Malfoy
From: Harry Potter
Subject: intel
He came to my office today. Brought coffee.
The response was almost immediate, confirming Harry’s suspicion that Draco wasn’t getting any work done today, either. But then, Harry wasn’t quite sure if Draco ever got work done. In fact, he wasn’t even sure what work Draco was meant to be doing.
To: Harry Potter
From: Draco Malfoy
Subject: intel
Don’t drink it, idiot.
---
To: Draco Malfoy
From: Harry Potter
Subject: your very helpful advice
I’m not going to. Obviously. And anyway, Ron already said.
---
To: Harry Potter
From: Draco Malfoy
Subject: your slight on my honor
It is very rude of you to imply that I am in any way in agreement with a Weasley. Consider my protective instinct revoked.
---
To: Draco Malfoy
From: Harry Potter
Subject: fuck off
fuck off
Harry put his head in his hands. No one was helping, not because they didn’t care (well, Draco probably didn’t care), but because there was no way they could help. He got up and took the coffee to the sink to dump it, smelling the caffeine and chocolate and spice and wishing he could drink it.
It was about fifteen minutes before Draco’s next email arrived.
To: Harry Potter
From: Draco Malfoy
Subject: Apology and Invitation
Harry,
I’m sorry. I realize that this is a serious situation and that you are most likely in distress. I am so used to taking advantage of your vulnerable states (which, to be fair, occur with great frequency) that I was unnecessarily harsh. Let me make it up to you. Join me for lunch. I’ll pay, even though you can afford it, as a gesture of goodwill.
With all the sincerity I can muster,
Draco.
Harry’s jaw dropped a bit. He didn’t know what to do, except to reply that he had work to do and hadn’t the time to faff about on a boozy lunch. Draco pointed out that Harry was probably not getting anything done in his current emotional state. Harry had to admit that he was right. So he agreed to meet Draco at an outrageously expensive place nearby.
When he knocked on Kingsley’s office door to let him know he was taking a half-day, Kingsley looked at him blankly.
“The Khan case file is almost ready for review,” Harry told him hurriedly. “I’ll be in early tomorrow, I swear. It’ll be in your desk by the time you’re in the office.”
Kingsley burst out laughing. “Harry,” he said, “You’ve been working here three years and you’ve never taken a sick day. You don’t have a visit till Tuesday. We’ll be fine without you for the afternoon.”
“Still coming in early,” Harry muttered as he shuffled, red-faced, out the door.