Squinting at the receipt for an Uber order in his hand, Harry adjusted his glasses.
"Need help, old man?" Ginny asked, dumping a heavy box up onto the bench next to him.
Harry quickly shuffled out of the way, not looking up from the tiny piece of paper. "No, I'm good. Eight coffees. Easy."
After glancing at the receipt, Ginny raised an eyebrow. "That's a four." As Harry frowned and held it closer to his face, Ginny turned away and laughed, walking to the back room.
A couple of seconds later was the sound of something tearing and hundreds of tiny things clattering to the floor, accompanied by Ginny's exclamation, "Oh, Jesus Christ, Colin."
Harry rushed around the corner and immediately his eyes widened.
A tiny boy stood in the middle of the back room, a limp paper bag in his arms. The last coffee beans dropped to the floor, hardly making a noise as they joined the massive pile that had spread across the entire floor.
Her jaw tight and sporting a glare that could kill, Ginny closed her eyes. "Hold the bag at the bottom, Colin, how many times do I have to tell you. Hold the bag-" she lifted her foot, coffee beans tumbling away from where they had it buried. "At-" stepping down, they crunch beneath her feet. "The bottom." Snatching away the empty paper bag, Ginny was scowling.
Colin looked as though he was about to cry.
"Now I have to clean this shit." Ginny said crossly, discarding the bag into the dry sink with disgust.
Harry tried to take a step forward to help, only to have coffee beans crunch beneath his feet. "Ginny, I can-"
"Nope." Ginny said simply, looking around for the broom. "Take the kid with you and go serve. I think I heard the bell ring."
"Yep." Harry quickly said, eager to not get on Ginny's bad side, especially when she's already angry. He took a glance at the screen above the door which showed camera footage of the customer room and then felt himself gulp. "Actually, I really can clean if you want me to. I'm okay with cleaning."
"Harry, what the fuck is your problem?" Ginny demanded before looking up at the screen. She sighed. "You're gonna have to stop avoiding them, you know."
"What? I'm not avoiding them. I just..." he anxiously watched the video of Ron and Hermione swaddled in jackets and scarves, peering around the shop, no doubt looking for him. "I just haven't seen them in a while, is all."
"Yeah. Because you've been avoiding them."
Harry turned around, eyebrows furrowed. "Because I had been locked in my room for weeks, actually."
They glared at each other and Harry was reminded of one of the reasons they broke up just before Harry graduated high school. They were both incredibly stubborn, neither of them ever backed down when they got into arguments.
"Harry?" Hermione's voice came.
Sighing, Harry rubbed his face as he slowly turned around, not wanting Ginny to think she won the standoff. He walked out into the serving area and tried to make sure his smile was genuine. "Hey, guys."
A relieved smile came onto Hermione's face. "Oh, thank god. How are you, Harry?"
He shrugged, placing his hands up on the bench between them. "Could be better. You?"
"'Bout the same." Ron nodded, pressing his lips together in a smile.
Harry tried to figure out what was different about them. There was something, but he couldn't put his finger on it.
Hermione held her small bag in front of her with tight fists. "Are you... okay?"
Eyebrows furrowing, Harry looked between both friends. "What?"
"McGonagall told us everything, Harry." One side of Ron's mouth curled into a sympathetic smile, but Harry felt his fists tighten.
"Oh, yeah?"
Recognising his tone, Hermione and Ron exchanged a glance.
"So, when you ask am I okay, you're asking if I'm okay now that I've figured out my parents' deaths weren't an accident and their murderer wants me dead next?" he sent them a fiery stare, daring them to respond.
"Harry..." Hermione said quietly, looking down at the counter, unable to bring her eyes up. "I don't know what to say-"
"Yeah," Ron added helpfully.
"And I know this is really, really difficult, but-"
Jaw clenching, Harry put his hands up on the counter. "Yeah. It is difficult." he said harshly.
Lifting her gaze, Hermione glared. "But that's no reason to take it out on us. We're your friends and we won't let you push us away again. During times of crisis, there are too many studies proving that good relationships can help to not consider it in this situation, too."
"We're here for you, mate." Ron agreed, his gangly arms crossed. "So let us help you, okay?"
Harry acknowledged that they both brought up good points, but he was in a grouchy mood and wasn't about to back down. "No, not okay. If some psychopath is out to murder me anyway, what's the point dragging you two along?"
At this point, both Ginny and Colin in the back room were dead silent, their ears trained on the conversation.
Raising his chin, Harry didn't soften his glare. "You two have gotten along fine without me, it seems."
Ron and Hermione turned to each other, eyes wide.
"What the hell is that meant to mean?" Ron demanded, his cheeks tinged pink.
"I'm not sure, maybe McGonagall will tell you, seeming as she's telling everyone everything about me, now."
"Harry, stop it!" Hermione said loudly, her arms straightening down by her side. She took a step forward. "I know you're upset, but you need to stop!"
Spinning around, Harry's hand trembled. "I have a list of people telling me what to do, Hermione, I don't need you two to be on it. Just... you shouldn't have come."
Her thick eyebrows drawn together in the middle, Hermione said, "That's possibly the most stereotypical thing you could have said. It happens in every stupid movie where thirty-year-olds play teenagers."
"Come on, Harry," Ron said, tucking his hands under his arms, an action that could be simple but managed to look complicated with his long arms. He stared at the back of Harry's head, wishing he could see his facial expression. "Don't be stupid. We're here for you." he grunted as Hermione's sharp elbow dug into his side. "What?"
Nodding, Harry's lips were pressed into a straight line. "No. No don't worry, I get it." He tapped his fingers against the back bench, his nails too chewed for them to make a sound. "Just like the Dursleys and now just like a bunch of random adults who claim they're trying to protect me-"
"Harry-"
"You think I'm stupid. But that's- you know, that's fine." Without looking back, he stormed past Colin and Ginny and slammed the back door behind him.
Immediately the chill of the air around him made the hair on Harry's arms stand up and he quickly rubbed his hands together. He paced back and forth, wishing there was something he could hit. Giving up, Harry growled before throwing himself against the wall, not intending for it to hurt his shoulder. Sighing, he leant his head against the building and closed his eyes after rubbing them, holding his glasses in his hands. He needed a minute to be by himself, something like a smoke break. Not that he actually smoked or had any interest in doing so. But, he vaguely wondered if smoking would make his already-angst-ridden aesthetic even more convincing but decided that that may be overkill.
Remembering that he had his phone in the back pocket of his jeans, Harry took it out and unlocked it, not knowing what he was going to do but hoping that something interesting would pop up and distract him.
He noticed a tiny red circle in the corner of his messaging app. Raising an eyebrow, Harry clicked into it.
Received Yesterday: 20 hours ago.
Draco: What are you doing?
Chewing his lip, Harry typed up a response, almost immediately getting a reply.
Harry: ...?
Draco: Why did you take so long to respond? It's not like you actually do anything.
Harry: how do u know what i do or don't do? Have a tracking device?
Draco: If I did, you're too blind to notice if I had or not.
Harry: ??
Wdym
Harry watched as the message status turned to delivered, then read. But there was no response.
Harry: im not blind
Eyebrows furrowed, Harry saw Draco begin to type and then stop again.
Draco: Whatever you need to tell yourself to sleep at night.
Shaking his head, a confused, one-syllable laugh escaped from Harry's mouth.
Draco: So? What are you doing?
Harry: working. Why do u cera?
Care
Draco: Last time I checked, you're not meant to be texting while making coffee.
Harry: Oh rly? That might just be in accounting
Draco: I couldn't say, I've never done accounting
Harry: stfu you know what i mean.
Banking or whatever you do
Draco: I don't know what you mean, actually, your texts are riddled with spelling errors making it pretty difficult to understand anything you attempt to type.
Harry: ok jesus
Draco: Your spelling needs Jesus. As does your grammar.
Harry: well fine you need a better sense of humour
Draco: You need to learn how to use commas.
Harry: are you so desperate that the only thing you can insult me on is my spelling?
Draco: Oh, you want to be insulted on other things? Where do I begin?
A mildly-frustrating conversation later, Harry was googling seven-syllable insults when he caught a glimpse of his reflection on his screen. He had a smile on his face.
Checking the time, Harry swore under his breath.
Harry: i gtg
Draco: What? Where is my promised insult that is better than 'artless clay-brained bladder?'
Harry: you will just have to wait. Some of us actually work
Draco: Oh, my apologies, I assumed that you can multitask. But clearly that's just me.
Harry: fuck u malfoy
Draco: Hurry on to work, Potter.
Harry pocketed his phone, taking a deep breath. Though his fingers were numb from the cold and he couldn't feel his nose, Harry couldn't stop smiling.