The Phoenix Ashe Cafe

Author's Note: Part two. I'm glad everyone liked how it started.

"I couldn't possibly wear this," Draco complained as he spun in front of his reflection in the mirror. "It's far too…ordinary."

"It's called casual, Draco. It's what wizards like Harry Potter wear all the time," she pointed out. They'd been to four stores already, and at each one Draco had found a flaw in her every selection. She was growing weary and a bit perturbed that he refused to listen to her after seeking out her advice. "What was Harry wearing today?"

"Gray denims," he parroted at once. "His chef's frock and that adorable droopy hat."

Pansy rolled her eyes. Draco had been getting increasingly mushy over the last few hours and coupled with his consistent dislike of all her suggestions, it was quickly wearing on her nerves. "That's his work uniform, but what do you think he was wearing under the white jacket?"

"Nothing?" His eyebrows waggled suggestively and Pansy had to laugh.

"Probably a simple jumper just like this one," she corrected. "I've seen him at the park and at Granger's office and he's always dressed like this."

"Always?" Draco asked, wondering how anyone could prefer to look so bland. "What if I added a scarf?"

"Then you'll look like a ponce who is trying too hard." She'd already crossed her arms over her chest and Draco knew he wasn't going to get any more help out of her until he agreed to something.

"But will I look like an attractive ponce?" he asked, shaking his bum until she finally cracked a smile. "Fine, fine," he sighed, pulling at the dark and light blue stripped fabric of the shirt. At least it was well-made materials, soft and luxurious to the touch if not to the eye, and the denims fit him perfectly, not too loose, and tight in all the right places.

"Good," she sighed with obvious relief. "Now we can move on to that hair of yours."

"What's wrong with my hair?" he demanded, glancing up at the reflection of perfectly coifed blond tresses that were pulled back into a neutral ribbon.

"You look like your father," she replied with a half-sneer.

"My father was awarded the 'most handsome convict' award from Witch Weekly just a year ago," he pointed out, but Pansy looked disgusted.

"I'm sorry, was that supposed to be a reason why you should keep your hair that way?" she asked incredulously. "Because all I heard was 'wah wah wah, my daddy's the hottest bloke in Azkaban, wah wah wah'."

Draco scowled at her but she remained unmoved. "What did you have in mind," he asked, sighing lightly as he recognized that he was trying to reason with a brick wall.

"This," she replied, flicking her wand in Draco's direction, casting a mild glamour so that he could see what she proposed more clearly. When Draco turned around he almost gasped. His hair was shorter, shaggier and darker than he'd ever worn it.

"Absolutely not!" he declared, banishing the glamour for one of his own. The new vision had his hair only slightly shorter and worn loose around his shoulders, but still the unmistakable platinum blond of before. She turned her nose up and made a comment about it being 'unflattering to his pointy face' before adjusting it again herself. This time the spell kept it his normal blond, white and pale like he liked it, but styled it shorter so that it hung around his face in tousled locks. The fringe scooped just below his brow and the back remained long enough to curl slightly at the ends. He stared at it for what Pansy thought seemed like hours until finally he nodded. "I can do this," he told her. "I think I might even like it."

"Thank Merlin," she sighed and ushered him into the dressing room to change. Moments later they took their purchases to the salon, where the stylist matched the glamour they'd shown her and then they went back to the Manor. Draco was surprised to find himself relax into his new image, he actually felt like he could sit less rigidly and could laugh more readily than he did in his stiff tailored suits.

Pansy seemed equally pleased by the transformation, noting to herself that she'd never seen Draco Malfoy smile quite so often as he was doing now. "So, all that's left is getting his attention."

"I'm not just supposed to show up and charm him off his feet?" Draco asked, frowning slightly.

"As if you could," Pansy scoffed. "Do you think you're the first fit wizard to set their sights on him? He'll be used to fending off all sorts of admirers."

"Well, then what do you suggest?" he asked, bracing himself for the headache he felt was eminent.

"I suggest you become Harry's assistant," she announced, holding up a scrap of parchment that read 'Help Wanted' and Draco simply rolled his eyes.

"Pansy, that's…" but even as the plethora of derogative terms danced up to his lips, he couldn't say any of them, because the more he thought of it, the more it seemed like a good idea. Harry would be forced into his company for hours a day, during which time they could build mutual admiration and trust, which might just prove to be enough to balance out the scales when Harry discovered Draco had only wanted to date him all along. "Genius," he finished instead of anything he was going to say before.

Harry looked carefully over the day's shipment of fruit, scrunching up his face as he scanned over the crate of strawberries they were trying to pawn off on him. "These are practically inedible," he complained, handing the crate back to the man who had just unloaded it from his cart. "I can't use these."

"They look fine to me," the man replied gruffly, not even bothering a glance down at the molding fruit before shoving it back at Harry.

"Fine? Some of these are completely green!" Harry pointed out, lifting one of the strawberries and spinning it in front of the man's face. "It's like it's wearing a fuzzy green sweater!"

"Then market them as winter berries," the deliveryman suggested before walking back toward his cart. "I've got other produce to drop off. If you have a problem, take it up with management."

Harry seethed as he watched the man leave, his delivery truck rambling away. He let out a strangled growl of frustration and ran his hands through his hair, mussing it beyond recognition. He'd asked for fresh berries and they had delivered him crap. He didn't know how he was going to complete the day's menu with this rubbish. Sure he could call the produce vendor and get a better batch in for tomorrow, but that would hardly help him today.

To make matters worse, he heard a customer knocking on the glass door at the front of the restaurant. Begrudgingly he marched up there, it was still too early for any of his help to get there, and since he was short-staffed as it was, it would only get worse as the day went on. As he approached the door, he noticed the man was holding up his 'Help Wanted' sign and he breathed a sigh of wary relief. Lots of people wanted to work for him at the café, but most of them had no idea how to properly function in a Muggle kitchen, which was how his was usually run. Today he'd probably have to resort to magic to make sure the food got out hot and on time, but he hated to do that. It didn't make any sense at all, but he just thought his desserts tasted better without any extra magic aside from the love he poured into each dish.

He opened the door and stepped aside, allowing the man to come through and took the outstretched sign from his hands. In his distracted state, it took a moment before Harry recognized who it was. "Malfoy?" he hissed. "I'm in no mood for your jokes."

"It's not a joke. I want the job," he insisted. "I want to cook for you."

"Have you ever even seen the inside of a kitchen?" Harry asked, rolling his eyes. This spoiled Slytherin had probably never raised a spatula in his entire life. "I need an experienced sous chef, Malfoy. It takes more than a pretty face to make good food."

"Did you just call me pretty?" Draco asked, ignoring the rest, but Harry just lifted his hands into the air in frustration and turned away, storming back into his kitchen with Draco following close behind, even though he wasn't invited. "I'm sorry, but it sounded like you called me pretty," he pressed, his mouth set into a smug grin.

"I was merely trying to point out that you don't belong here, Malfoy," Harry spat, glaring at his moldy strawberries with ill-hidden contempt. "You don't know how to cook."

"Teach me," Draco replied. "I can learn any task I set my mind to."

Harry sighed and leaned heavily against a tower of empty crates, pinching the bridge of his nose beneath his glasses to try and ward off the headache that was already pounding through his skull. "It would take far too much work to get you to the level I need, Malfoy." He was trying to be reasonable even though the blond was making ridiculous propositions. "My last sous chef had five years of culinary school."

"So," Draco rebuked. "You couldn't possibly know how good I am unless you test me."

"Fine!" Harry shouted, ready to get the prat out of his kitchen and start doing what he could with the rubbish fruit he'd been delivered. "Dice those onions in less than five minutes," he ordered, pointing to three unpeeled vegetables lingering by the sink.

"What? No one could do that!" Draco complained.

"I have three employees who could do that in their sleep," Harry barked. "Are you ready to give up yet?"

"No," Draco hissed and made his way over to the onions, holding them awkwardly in his hand as he pulled the first to his nose and sniffed deeply of it, wrinkling his nose in disgust at the pungent smell. "I think these are bad," he pointed out and Harry strode over to him and rolled his eyes.

"The onions are fine, Malfoy," he sighed, his eyes flicking back to the box of rotten strawberries. "Those, however, are quite rotten," he told the blond, pointing at the disgraceful pile of fruit.

"Ew. You're not using those are you?" Draco remarked.

"Of course not," Harry sighed, rolling his eyes. "I need to Owl the produce vendor and have a new batch brought in tomorrow."

"But what about today? You can't just truncate your menu because of bad product. How many of the items contain strawberries?" he asked.

"Enough," Harry sighed, rubbing his temples slowly.

"I'll go down there," Draco told him and began to march toward the door.

"What?" Harry asked, frowning in confusion.

"I'll go to the vendor and demand a new batch," he replied easily, hefting the box against his hip. "Where are they?" Harry blinked rapidly and rummaged into his pocket for the produce company's card and handed it over to Malfoy wordlessly. "Be back in a flash," Draco said before Apparating away.

Harry just blinked after him and ran his hands through his hair again. He couldn't believe that he'd had two back-to-back encounters with the petulant blond and this time he was here to what? Work for him? How had that thought even struck the former Slytherin as a good idea? He refused to spend any more time wondering about the enigma that was Draco Malfoy and went about the prep work needed to start his day. He had the onions he'd assigned Malfoy diced in three minutes, with a triumphant 'told you so' muttered even though there was no one around to hear him. Next he started removing the pits from all the cherries on hand so that he could start them soaking in his sugar mixture.

He was nearly done with that when he heard the telltale pop of Apparition behind him. Whirling around he took in Draco's form, really looking at him for the first time that morning. A warm tingle ran through his body as he suddenly realized that Malfoy was handsome, more so than usual. He tried to recall what the man's hair looked like the day before, because he swore it had been a good deal longer and tied back. It looked much better now.

"Did you cut your hair?" he asked, forgetting momentarily about the man's task and the strawberries he needed.

"What, just now?" Malfoy asked, placing the crate of strawberries on the table.

"No," Harry laughed. "Since yesterday."

"Oh, you noticed that did you? Do you like it?" he asked and Harry nodded.

"The cut suits you," Harry replied with a sheepish grin before his eyes drifted to the fruit Malfoy had brought. Every berry was plump and red and smelled delicious. "Oh, Malfoy! I could kiss you!" he shouted pulling the man into an awkward hug before he realized what he was doing and took a purposeful step away from the blond. "Sorry," he muttered, but Draco was chuckling lightly, his eyes glowing like molten silver.

"It's no bother," he replied. "So, can I have the job?"

"Malfoy," Harry sighed, squinting his eyes closed. "It's nothing personal but I really need someone who knows their way around a kitchen. I'm sorry, but it would take me too long to train you."

"Oh." Draco was surprised, but he knew he really shouldn't have been. This plan was farfetched from the beginning. "I see, well, I'm glad I could help you with the berries anyway. Have a nice day, Harry," he told the man before turning to leave.

He didn't know if it was the defeated look in the blond's eyes or the way his given name sounded on the other man's lips, but whatever it was, it had Harry calling Draco back into the kitchen. The blond peeked in and Harry waved him over, grinning at the pleasurable way Malfoy's hips swung when he walked. "I can't hire you for the kitchen, but I could really use a hand in running this restaurant. I need someone with charm and force and more importantly, someone who knows the difference and when to use one or the other. The staff would need to respect you, the customers would need to love you and the vendors would need to fear you."

Harry could literally see the moment when Draco's spirit lifted. It was written clearly in the squaring of his shoulders, the way his chin lifted ever so slightly and that smug grin returned to his lovely features. He almost looked out of place without it. "I could do all that."

"I'm fairly confident that you could," Harry agreed. "Do you think you could work for me, Malfoy? I mean, really take orders from me without question? We'd see an awful lot of one another and I would count on you for quite a bit around here."

"Having the Great Harry Potter count on me for anything would truly be an honor," Draco replied with a gracious bow, causing Harry to wince.

"Alright, but if you work here, it's Chef, okay, Malfoy?" he asked, his own smile returning in full force. Somehow this blond tornado had come in and turned his whole day around.

Malfoy slinked over and held out his hand, grasping Harry's tightly when he took it. They lingered that way for far longer than was decent and Draco's fingertips grazed his lightly when the blond pulled away at last. "It's a deal, Chef," he replied with a raised eyebrow before turning and walking away, pausing only when he reached the door. "So…er…what do you need me to do?" he asked, spoiling his suave exit and Harry laughed before going over the seating plan and then introducing the staff as they came in. No one seemed pleased by the new addition, but Harry felt rather confident that Draco could charm each one to his cause.

Draco had never been so exhausted in all his life. Making sure Harry had everything he needed, making sure the staff was turning in the orders correctly and that they were coming back to the diners as requested, all while keeping a smile on his face, was arduous work. Still, he felt confident he had balanced it all as well as could be expected for his first week.

The downside to his position was that he saw very little of Harry, despite what the man had claimed on his first day. They were both so busy doing separate things that they barely had time to greet one another and bark orders back and forth. He had to admit, Harry was a brilliant owner and chef, he knew exactly what was needed to keep his café running smoothly - he just didn't have time to do it all.

At the end of the evening Friday, Draco said goodbye to the last of the servers as they left and wandered into the kitchen to find Harry toiling over some kind of tart before he turned to the blond and smiled. His features betrayed none of the exhaustion that the man absolutely had to feel, it was just warm and bright and inviting. "You did really well this week, Malfoy," he mused aloud, his fingers busy making the decorative crust for his miniature desserts.

"Thanks. I'm beat," he admitted. "I don't know how you took care of everything before I came along. I could barely keep up with my half."

Harry chuckled and filled his crusts with a lumpy yellow mixture before sliding them into the oven. Another tray sat beside him, this one covered in finished tarts, each baked to a perfect golden brown. He moved the tray aside and jumped up to sit on the edge of the counter, staring intently at his newest employee. "You didn't seem too flustered while you were out there. From what I could tell you were your usual, charming self."

"I was trying pretty hard at it," Draco admitted as he took a step forward. Harry was like a magnet, some of his hair was matted down in places where he'd broken a sweat and then cooled down, he'd long discarded his hat and there were faint streaks of white mixed into his ebony locks where he must have run his flour coated hands through his hair. A stray bit of cherry filling lingered near the corner of his lips and Draco yearned to lick it off, but quickly shook away the image of what that act might lead to. He didn't want to get sacked, as tired as he was, he'd never felt so fulfilled in all his life.

"Here," Harry said, picking up one of the small tarts and breaking it in half, "try this." Draco took a tentative step forward, placing himself directly in front of the brunet as he opened his mouth for the bite. Harry spared only a second of apprehension before placing the sweet dessert on Draco's tongue, his fingers drifting softly over the man's bottom lip as he pulled back. Draco chewed it, and hoped desperately that Harry couldn't hear his heart racing. "I'm considering adding it to the menu. What do you think?"

A million flavors seemed to fly across Draco's tongue as he savored the small bite. The first to hit him was fresh-spiced pear, crunching softly in his mouth and coating it in their tart juices, but then something smooth and creamy competed for attention and Draco sighed as he swallowed it down. "It's brilliant, Harry. What is it?"

"Pears and goat cheese," Harry replied.

"So, what lascivious name are you going to give this one?" he asked with a quirked brow.

Harry chuckled and popped the remaining bite into his own mouth, swallowing it before speaking again. "You don't like the names, hm?"

"They seem better placed in an erotic novel," Draco replied, grabbing up a menu from a nearby table and launching into a seductive reading of Harry's desserts. "The Carnal Caramel Crème, Elderberry Arousal, Blueberry Blowjob-" Through the recitation, Draco waggled his eyebrows suggestively, made dramatic movements as if he were tossing a long mane of hair over his shoulder and swaying his hips in a lewd display.

"Enough," Harry demanded, laughing so hard he could scarcely breathe. "You made that last one up. It doesn't say that." He tried grabbing the menu away from Draco to prove it and their hands brushed, sending sparks of brittle fire through Draco's veins and making Harry pull away with a gasp.

They stared at one another over the menu for a long moment. The battle over it had brought Draco closer, lodged him between Harry's legs as he sat on the prep table and their faces were so close they were practically breathing one another in. "Hermione always names my dishes," Harry whispered at last, but his face didn't move away and his body showed no signs that he would.

"It seems the Weasel hasn't been meeting all of your friend's needs if these are the names she comes up with," Draco replied softly, carefully holding his ground as well.

Harry's lips curled into a subtle smile and he shrugged lightly. "I wouldn't know. She's just usually the one I have taste a new product first, and I figure with her marketing background, she would know best. Would you like to name this one?"

"I suppose 'pear and goat cheese tart' isn't fancy enough?" Draco asked, matching Harry's grin as it widened.

"You can do better than that," Harry prompted and Draco didn't think he was imagining things when he saw the man shift closer.

"How about…'first kiss'," he suggested, and Harry quirked an ebony eyebrow in reply.

"Why 'first kiss'?" he asked and Draco leapt forward, tossing all warnings aside as he claimed Harry's mouth. The kiss was searching; almost pleading for Harry to accept, but he wasn't disappointed. Legs curled around his waist and pulled him closer as the brunet kissed him back, their tongues dancing together in a blur of flavors. Draco could almost taste everything Harry had sampled that day, and underneath all the amazing bakery concoctions was a flavor Draco could only describe as Harry. Sweet, salty and tart all blended together into a succulent mixture that only served to fuel the blond's desire.

When they pulled apart, each gasping for air, Harry sighed and looked at him through the lacy sheet of his dark lashes. "That was…"

"Wow," Draco finished and Harry smiled.

"Have you been planning that for long?" Harry asked at last, leaning slightly away from his newest admirer.

"Planning? No, not really. Thinking about it? Yes." Draco grew nervous, his pulse racing, as he tried to read what Harry was thinking. Unfortunately those usually expressive eyes seemed closed off from his gentle probing.

"I should probably finish these up." Harry pointed to the tray of tarts sitting beside him and the other in the oven, glancing away from Draco as he did. He slid down from his spot on the table and moved quickly away to take the second tray out of the heat. "You know how to let yourself out, yeah?"

"Er, yeah," Draco whispered, stepping away and squaring his shoulders. "I'll see you tomorrow then."

"Have a good night," Harry called after him, not looking up from his long row of desserts. Draco disappeared through the back door, lingering there a moment, hoping the brunet might change his mind and run after him. He didn't know what happened, what snapped and changed in Harry's mind, but the man never followed after him and Draco ended up walking to a nearby alley and Apparating home alone.

Author's Note: Sinful Strawberry tarts for all who review *wink*