The Business of Strawberry Cheesecake
The blonde man sat at one side of the table, eyebrows furrowed as he tried to make sense of the magazine he had folded open before him. After seeing what could only be yet another extravagant lie in the article he was reading, he opened his mouth with the intention of uttering ‘this is nonsense’.
“This is nonsen”” was as far as he got because the words died on his lips when he caught the gaze of the woman sitting across him.
She set the mug of coffee down on the coaster; a picture of a lovely country landscape was now obscured. “So, are you interested, Mr Malfoy?” she asked, as she stirred her coffee and absent-mindedly shook some salt into it.
Draco Malfoy blinked as he noticed the salt go into the coffee. Didn’t she know that the sugar was in the crystal bowl standing magnificently in the centre of the table? He supposed that this business contraction might go rather badly if his potential partner ended up spitting her drink across the table.
“Miss Lovegood? That’s salt.”
He expected her to look, at the very least, embarrassed for making such a stupid mistake, but instead, she just smiled. “I know.”
She raised the cup to her lips to take a sip, and smiled again as if the taste was actually pleasant. “So, I have been thinking…about the offer you have provided me with.”
Miss Lovegood nodded. “Yes, I’m very glad you came with me today. This little café is marvellous, is it not? I come here every Thursday, even when I don’t have a business liaison to deal with. It is rather odd, but you’re the first person that has expressed interest in the Quibbler in nearly a year.”
It would be safe to say that it was not the lack of interest in the Quibbler that was odd, but rather the woman who ran it. But there was also something odd in her last comment. “Miss Lovegood,” Draco pointed out, “today’s Saturday.”
“So it is, but I thought our meeting would fare better on this day. If you are wondering why the waitress has not come over yet, I took the opportunity to order our food in advance.”
Draco had to resist the temptation to scowl. He was very picky with his food. Who could blame him for only enjoying the best of what the culinary world had to offer?
“I told you that my afternoon schedule was empty for this entire week. I didn’t see why you decided to postpone our meeting to Saturday, but of course, I suppose the details don’t matter at this point.”
“Why, yes, Mr Malfoy, you’re right. The details don’t matter. After all, I don’t think you were ever interested in the Quibbler at all, were you?” For a second, a hint of lucid sadness appeared in the depths of her eyes. “But then again, no-one is.”
Preposterous! How had she seen through everything he had been trying so hard to hide? Last week, on Thursday, he had come to a business meeting with Miss Lovegood, but he guessed that back then he hadn’t shown any more interest in the Quibbler than he had just now. After all, anyone could see that it was just badly written rubbish.
“Of course, you’ve been coming here every Thursday for the past few weeks, haven’t you, Mr Malfoy?” she asked. “I don’t blame you. I do love those strawberry cheesecakes.”
The first time Draco Malfoy had seen Luna Lovegood walk into the café, he had followed her in, as he was rather hungry and you could tell the quality of an establishment by the quality of the people who visited it.
True, Miss Lovegood had a little bit of a reputation for having her head in the clouds back at school, but to tell the truth, she had stood out on the dreary street that day, almost two months ago. Maybe it was because as brilliantly decorated the café’s interior was, it was actually located on a shady London street, just a short walk away from the offices of the Ministry of Magic, where he knew Luna Lovegood worked. Of course, the Quibbler was her first job, but he supposed that she needed an actual source of income. At any rate, Miss Lovegood had looked the most reliable person to choose a good meal, compared to all the shady looking vagrants wandering the pavement that day.
And then, she had turned around and said, “Come on in, Mr Malfoy, you can sit with me and I’ll show you which of the foods here are the best!”
That awkward (at least, for him) first lunch together left him with a greater appreciation of the café’s strawberry cheesecake, as well as a greater appreciation for the bizarre labyrinth that was Miss Lovegood’s mind.
The problem was, however, that he could not stop himself from coming back. At first he went every day, but when he realised that she only came in on Thursdays, his daily visits turned to weekly ones. But he never sat at her table again, eating his cake and drinking his coffee alone.
“Mr Malfoy?” Miss Lovegood’s voice asked, interrupting his segue back into the past. “The food’s here.” They had a toasted tomato and cheese sandwich each, while Miss Lovegood still had her salty coffee while Draco had opted to remain with his usual, normal, white coffee with two sugars.
But on the table, between them, was a box. And on the lid, the words, “Happy Birthday, Draco Malfoy” were written.
Draco was stunned into silence. Not even a stinging remark crossed his mind, and even if one had, he doubt he could have delivered it with his usual gusto. Instead, the only thing he could think to ask was one question that was tugging at the edges of his mind. “Miss Lovegood, how did you know my birthday?” he asked.
She sipped her coffee calmly. “Remember you filled out a form when you first expressed interest in the Quibbler? One that had your date of birth on it? It clearly said, ‘Fifth of June’. And today is the fifth of June.”
Draco knew that she was right, after all, one did not forget one’s own birthday easily.
“It’s just that you looked so sad, the last time I saw you, that I thought you could do with a little bit of cheering up…you made me so happy when you expressed interest in the Quibbler. I thought that no-one wanted to hear anything about it anymore; Hermione kept telling me that people were sick of hearing about Crumple-Horned Snorkacks, you know? I didn’t want to believe her, but I suppose it’s true now. There’s just no interest at all!”
Draco felt like he should object loudly to this last statement, but couldn’t bring himself to lie so forcefully. “Miss Lovegood, what Granger said can’t be entirely true…”
“You don’t have to lie to me, Mr Malfoy,” she sighed.
He didn’t want this woman, as kooky as she might be, to look so downtrodden. After all, she was the only other person in the past three years to remember his birthday. For all the power and influence he had been brought up around, and the large networks of acquaintances he still had, he didn’t have a true friend in the world.
“You know what, Miss Lovegood? I will help you find a Crumple-Horned Snorkack!” As soon as the words left his mouth, he wondered what the hell he had gotten himself into. He did not have time to gallivant around Scotland looking for fictional creatures.
But he could not resist the sparkle in her eyes. He wondered if this is what it would be like, to have a friend that he could make happy. “You will?” she exclaimed, almost bouncing out of her seat. “Oh, Mr Malfoy, thank you so much! I’ve always said, if I could only find one, everyone would have to see that I was telling the truth the whole time!”
This odd woman, this woman who believed in mythical creatures and the strangest conspiracies, was also the only woman peculiar enough to believe in him.
“I’ll make the preparations right away, Mr Malfoy, rest assured.” The excitement seemed to be fading now and she seemed to regain her usual calm composure. “But for now, let’s cut the cake. After all, I’ve noticed that you, Mr Malfoy, seem to particularly enjoy strawberry cheesecake.”
The Business of Strawberry Cheesecake by Pondering
Story Notes:
Written for Ritta/mugglemathdork for the Ravenclaw Holiday Fic Exchange 2008. This was my first time writing Draco. Ever.