Archive of Our Own

Luna was the one to recommend the place to him. She knew about it because Good Loving Pastries had left its small circle of being sold by coffee shops she had a direct connection to, and had actually been specifically requested to be the sole bakery option for the new cafe.

“I think the owner could be a distant cousin,” she told him dreamily over strawberries that Neville had freshly picked from their garden.

It was part of why Harry loved spending time at the Longbottom residence, quality time often meant a small task to complete with the hands, and he didn’t always have to add to the conversation. Neville and him would weed in the garden, Ginny would convince him to kick around a football, and Luna always gave him a task in the kitchen. It never felt like they were forcing him into anything, and they all genuinely loved him coming around.

So as he had cored strawberries for the next batch of homemade pop tarts, Luna waxed poetic about the new coffee shop.

And by the time he left in the evening, glass jar full of strawberry jam sealed with a beeswax wrap, she had wrangled a promise out of him to try them out.

He would’ve anyways, to support her business, but also because it did sound like somewhere he’d enjoy.

~~~~~~~~

The front of the shop was nondescript, but screamed elegance, and somehow coziness. Large glass windows reflected sunlight back into Harry’s eyes as he looked at the sign.

Slyther i’N Sip

It boggles his mind for a moment, trying to parse out if there was a glaring error on an otherwise well put together shop, or if it was some sort of pun.

He shook the concern out of his head and turned his eyes to a small chalk board that was leaning on the brick beside the door. The artfully drawn snake’s tongue almost seemed to flick as it drank out of a steaming coffee mug. A bubble of joy filled Harry’s chest, and he finally walked in.

No bell sang from the door, and he had to blink a couple times at the less bright interior.

The walls were a lush forest green, one side behind an artful menu sign actually a mural with silver and gold accents that’s twists and turns until it finally revealed it was a classical sea serpent, maw open to a ship that was trying to sail out the front door.

Beside the luxurious wood counter that stretched along the wall farthest from the door, gleaming espresso makers and coffee grinders making their noises as workers ran them, the room seemed to be filled in every available extra space with glass boxes.

Each a single habitat for a snake.

Harry had heard of cat cafes, even the rare owl one in Japan that he had almost run off to, but this was his first time being in a snake cafe.

He felt at home.

Although there was a clear path to the ordering station and someone behind the counter, Harry couldn’t help stopping every few steps to check out the nearest enclosure, observing the sleek reptiles in their homes.

He was happy to note that all seemed properly cared for, plenty of hides and shelters, moisture pools and heated areas. Not that he was worried, Luna would never allow her fully vegan pastries to grace a location that abused their animals.

Harry finally drags himself away from his favorite animals to the counter to actually order coffee, and the person who had been ducked behind, carefully organizing familiar pastries, finally stood and looked at Harry.

Now, Luna was among Harry’s best friends, almost his sister. But if this was the man she thought could be related to her, he must have been part Lovegood, part angel.

Harry couldn’t decide if he was beautiful or handsome.

While his blonde hair was similarly pale as Luna’s, Harry would bet anything the man spent a lot of money on products making it shine in the light.

It had some length to it, more on the top than the sides, and was pushed back out of his eyes which were a startling blue so deep that it looked gray. Harry wanted to sink into those eyes. It also helped he had to look up into them just a little bit.

The man was wearing what was likely his barista uniform, a dark button down with sleeves rolled up under a hunter green apron. A small wooden name tag with the same cursive as the handwritten sign for drink specials read “Draco”.

And he was staring politely at Harry, who’s brain had gone fuzzily silent for the moment.

When it clicked back on, he made sure he whipped out his largest grin, the one that Sirius always said showed off his pearly whites too much, and lamely asked:

“What’s with the name of this place?” And immediately wished he could punch his own face.

The man behind the counter immediately looked a little more hostile, polite facade dropping into something a little more haughty. He even dared to raise one of his pale hands, which Harry couldn’t help notice looked manicured, and glared down at his nail beds.

“Well you see this is a coffee shop where we have snakes-“ Draco began to drawl in annoyance, and Harry quickly raised his hands in surrender to stop the lecture, sheepish.

Though he would love to hear the man’s posh accent continue any other time.

“Gosh sorry that sounded rude didn’t it. I honestly love the idea of this place, I just meant is it like “Slither and sip” or “Slither in Sip”?” Harry quickly corrected himself, hoping he hadn’t just screwed over his chances at making a good first impression.

Not that he was quite sure why he would care what sort of impression he was making.

He did receive stunned blinks for his effort. But it was better than anger.

Then a slow smile crept across pretty pink lips and Harry clenched his fists to try not to do something stupid like suddenly try and get his hair under control or straighten his shirt.

“Yes, the sign is a little confusing isn’t it?” And Harry nods a little too eagerly, making the man huff the smallest laugh. The blonde waves a bit towards the bar where his coworkers are chatting, business slow with the recent opening and now Harry not ordering anything.

“We argued about it for weeks, and then the apostrophe ended up in a strange place. Blaise-“ whom Harry assumed was the tanned man sipping his own espresso while leaning by the sink, “thinks it should be ‘Slithering Sip’, but I personally like ‘Slither in N Sip’.” And the slightest bit of pink tongue flashed against white teeth between the sibilant S’s and N’s.

Harry was staring at his mouth too much. Eye contact, Remus had always emphasized the importance of eye contact in social situations.

“I like the second one as well,” Harry decided to agree, as their eyes met again. It got him a proud smirk, and he had a hunch that the man in front of him would be bragging about it later to his coworkers.

“Now then, since you’re all about the sipping, what can I get you?” And a swoop of social anxiety fills Harry’s gut. Right. Coffee shop. His eyes trip over the menu, with the fancy terms and sections. He hovers over the tea for a moment but always chicken out.

Then the specials catch his eye, in what is surely Draco’s writing.

“A pistachio latte please, and a strawberry poptart.” He couldn’t resist Luna’s baking after all, and why should he. He put work into those too.

“Great choice, the strawberries are fresh and locally grown.” Draco says, and Harry has to bite down the I know that wants to spew from him.

After the mundane exchange of money and receipt, Harry turns back to the menagerie of serpents and seats. He had already scoped out exactly where he wanted to sit.

Ever since learning about his parents death and being at risk himself from the serial killer Voldemort since the age of 11, Harry never really could sit with his back to a room.

Luckily, there are a pair of grey wingback chairs in the front corner, dappled with warm sunlight and at a perfect angle to see the counter, the front door, and the back exit next to the restrooms.

His mind had never really stopped mapping locations for escape routes, no matter how much his therapist made him practice exercises emphasizing his safety.

Unfortunately, once he gets to his chosen seat he finds it’s already been taken.

By a large darkly colored reticulated python, its body draped from the top of the chair to a loose coil in the seat of it, its tongue flicking from the armrest where it was enjoying a particularly solid ray of sunlight.

Harry just smiles and asks “is this seat taken?”, like it’s an inside joke, and plops down in the second armchair, enjoying how the snake's head moves to follow his movements but has no other reaction.

He sits beside the reptile and shoots off a message to Luna thanking her for the recommendation, then turns to observe a king snake attempting to escape the terrarium to his left.

“I think he’s done this before, hm?” Harry asks the python, not expecting a response,

“Yes, I’ve had to invest in special locks just for his cage,” a voice answers, and Harry flinches hard, whipping his head up to see the man from before standing with a mug and plate. The blonde flinches at the quick movement before smiling awkwardly.

“Sorry to surprise you, just wanted to bring you your drink and see if you had any questions.” Draco says calmly, placing down everything, so Harry can see that his latte has a serpent head drawn with foam and cocoa powder.

“Oh wow! Cool art!” Harry effuses, before taking a sip and looking up to the blonde who seemed to be hovering for a reaction,

“And good coffee!” A much more genuine grin graces the man’s face, and he stands straight and tall, stroking the python's body in the other chair. Harry thinks he can see the slightest blush on pale cheeks.

“Coffee was the initial passion for creating this place, the snakes just sort of happened.” For the first time Harry noticed the man has a tattoo across his arm, a thick black snake twisted around purple hydrangeas.

“I’m glad you’ve decided to sit by Serverus, he usually intimidates people.” Draco continues, dragging Harry from his thoughts, bringing all attention to the snake that was shifting under the soft hand that caressed him, like a cat arching into the touch.

“Severus the snake? Like Severus Snape the chemist?” Harry couldn’t help blurting out in question. It wasn’t a very common name after all.

Again silvery blue eyes turned to him in surprise, and Harry thinks he needs to question the universe about something other than why he was still alive - why did everyone seem shocked that he knew things?

“Yes actually, he was my uncle.” Draco replied, and then extended a long fingered hand to a Harry,

“I’m Draco Malfoy, and this is my shop.” And Harry is struck suddenly by the resemblance he hadn’t even noticed he picked up on.

Malfoy.

The name immediately brought to mind images of serious lawyers in courtrooms, much longer pale hair bracketing a more severe face.

Lucius Malfoy had been Tom Riddle’s defense attorney. Although after they had lost with the mountains of evidence against Riddle actually being Voldemort, Lucius had actually apologized to Harry for representing the man. Promising the teenager that he was glad to see the man put away.

His wife Nacrissa, assistant and legal mastermind in her own right, had actually petitioned the court to allow Harry to sit out of the room instead of being subjected to the grisly crime scenes again and again.

Not that Harry had wanted to leave.

He had always prided himself on not being scared of the monster who was only a man, even if that man was a psychopathic killer.

So he braced himself as he extended his hand and felt cool fingers against his,

“Harry Potter.” And there was the light of recognition in the silver eyes, and a flicker as they likely traced his face, looking for the scar.

They dropped each others hands and in the awkward lull that followed as Draco returned to moving his hands evaluating over Severus Snake, anxiety built back up in Harry.

“You can ask.” Burst out, a bit violently as he crushed some of the hard crust of the poptart beneath his thumb.

“Sorry?” The blonde responded, colored with confusion as he perched on the chair opposite Harry next, unlocking the cage of the struggling to escape King snake.

Immediately the predominantly red creature slithered up the pale proffered hand, and Harry’s eyes tracked its movements steadily.

“Ask about what it was like to be a serial killer's prey. People usually are dying to.” And neither man looks at each other, entranced instead as the snake attempted to weasel its way into Draco’s sleeves, getting at the warmth of his body but blocked by fabric.

“That’s bloody fucked up of them.” Draco replies steadily, finally making eye contact as he stretched out cupped palms with the snake, depositing him into Harry’s lap without a care.

Harry isn’t sure which action surprises him more, and a snort leaves his mouth as the creature decides his shirt is worth wiggling under.

“Thanks.” And the man finally stands to return to his work, leaving Harry surrounded by snakes, and enjoying a smooth pistachio latte.

As he sips, he observes the soft sway of the man’s hips as he goes back to the counter, greeting another customer.

Yes, he could see himself enjoying this cafe quite often.

~~~~~~~

“So, who was the tasty morsel you were talking to earlier?” Pansy asks as Draco wrangles Severus back into his box. The python seems particularly ornery that evening, despite the fact he loved his special mossy hide and water feature.

Draco pretended to hum as if unsure who she was talking about, even if his thoughts kept returning to the shocking green eyes of the tanned boy from earlier. How they shone even behind his circular glasses.

The man had seemed uncomfortable at first in the cafe, but it quickly became clear that it was due to public anxiety rather than an issue with reptiles. He hadn’t even flinched when Draco had given him a snake. He enjoyed it even.

“His name was Harry,” he finally remembered to reply to his friend, locking Severus’ box carefully after dropping a mouse inside for him to pursue.

“Harry? Hm, he looked familiar.” She continued, wiping down the dried mugs a final time as she hung them over the bar.

Blaise had left right after close, most likely for a date though he hasn’t said as much specifically.

But Draco and Pansy didn’t mind, even if the girl complained about the extra work. They had all chosen to get into the cafe business together after shirking their parents' expectations, and it gave Pansy an outlet for her art and decoration skills.

It gave Draco… everything.

Draco also knew that Pansy was type to enjoy true crime and the sort of podcasts that maybe got a little invasive, so she was not going to be weaseling Harry’s identity out of Draco so soon. A repeat customer would probably prefer not being bothered about his history.

“Don’t worry Pans, I’ll let you know when a celebrity actually visits.”

And for now he’d hope the mysterious man would come back.

~~~~~~~~

Harry doesn’t talk about the new coffee shop at the next Weasley family dinner, or the one after that. It takes him a few weeks to decide it wasn’t just the novelty, or the attractive man behind the counter.

But now Harry knew it; he actually enjoyed the snake cafe.

The drinks were always good, the flavored lattes or even the more classic concoctions. The atmosphere with the snakes was enjoyable and relaxed, and it couldn’t be overly busy or loud because of the reptiles.

So far he hadn’t been recognized by anyone, and even the baristas besides Draco were easy to talk to. The goth one, Pansy, was a little too into crime, but he enjoyed the dark sense of humor it gave her. Blaise had seemed a bit full of himself at first, but Harry had gotten him into a conversation about the coffee beans and then been stuck listening to descriptions of acidity and fruity notes that went over his head.

It’s a smaller family dinner he finally brings it up, Fred and George busy preparing for the increased sales that came with the Fall, and Angela and Lee don't often come without the twins.

Percy is also suspiciously absent, but his relationship with his mother fluctuated nearly monthly, so there was no surprise there.

Ginny is the one that brings it up first of course, Luna being her girlfriend and all.

“Luna’s baked goods are being sold at a new cafe,” she says to her mom as she passes the potatoes over to Ron, and it’s the perfect opportunity for Harry to jump in.

“The cafe is a snake cafe!” And a collection of Weasley brown eyes turn towards him. He only recognizes that he might’ve interrupted Ginny by the range of smiles.

“Sorry,” he immediately murmurs, but the great thing about the only Weasley girl was she could roll with the punches. It made her a good football player too.

“No, go on Harry, you obviously have some vested interest.” And he didn’t like the sparkle in the familiar eyes. They may have only dated for half a second before he realized he was more gay than bi, but she knew him in a different way than her other siblings.

Flushing under the eyes turned on him, he decided to focus on digging his fork into the beef cubes as if they would take away his embarrassment.

“It just so happens to be near our house… but its a great cafe and they aren’t just a gimmick, the coffee is good and the reptiles are well taken care of.”

“I can’t believe you like to enjoy your morning cuppa joe with slippery slimey snakes.” Ron mutters with a shiver, and then gets kicked under the table by his wife.

“They’re not slimey, Ronald, honestly.” Hermione huffed, gesturing at him with a knife that made him raise his hands in surrender. Somehow his smile was still loving and fond.

Harry made sure to gag dramatically to Charlie who barks out his own laugh, almost choking on his beer.

“I for one think it sounds wonderful,” the elder Weasley son says, shaking out his head after his father smacked him on the back, all grins. His earring jingling the barest amount that made Harry want to flick them.

But after Ginny and him ended, Harry and Ron had gotten drunk, Harry had come out of the closet, and then been sworn to never date another Weasley. Luckily most of them were taken, anyways.

“I’d love people to come with me and try it,” Harry offered earnestly, and was unsurprised when everyone around the table gave varying degrees of negative answers.

That just left Charlie, still grinning,

“Of course, Harrikins.”

~~~~~~~~~

Harry should have known better, Charlie has always preferred lizards and the crocodylia that he works with. What he didn’t expect was that Draco was just as passionate about snakes.

How that leads to him leaning against the bar, Severus currently wrapped around his shoulders, while the tall blonde pulling his espresso espouses the pointlessness of legs he’ll never understand.

“Yes, serpents may be very impressive, but they came from lizards, so really they’re derivative.” Charlie was saying, smirk seeming permanently spread across his face,

Draco snorted as he poured steamed milk, swirling gently into a curled shape reminiscent of a snake.

“But the fact that they evolved to lose the legs, means that they knew what was better for them.” Was Draco’s closing argument, sliding the latte across the bar to Harry with a blinding smile. Harry hummed his agreement, sipping down the perfect first drink, carefully making sure to keep the cup out of reach of Severus’ flickering tongue.

Both men were now staring expectantly at Harry, Charlie’s pierced brows challenging in their arch, and Draco’s also asking for his input.

This much attention from two attractive gentlemen could cause him to happily expire with coffee in his hands. But eventually he clears his throat, giving a solid pat to the heavy python on him.

“I think I have to say I’m partial to the slithering types.” And Charlie groaned as Draco laughed.

Blaise happened to bring over Charlie’s espresso spritzer at that point, winking as he placed a large orange wedge on the lip.

The Weasley gave him a lecherous grin, strutting over to Harry’s usual chairs by the window, the baristas and Harry watching him go.

“He single?” Blaise asks a little breathily, and Harry categorizes the man’s dreamy gaze as struck by Charlie’s charm just as Harry had once been as a school boy.

Draco also seems intently curious for the answer, standing close as he wipes down the machines, eyes flicking between them.

“As far as I’m aware,” Harry says, wishing he could shrug under the snake but unsuccessful, “but he’s quite the catch, you may want to make your move.”

And to his surprise, Blaise tugs his dark apron off right then and walks over to Charlie, leaving Harry gaping after him.

When he turned around to share his disbelief with Draco, he found himself swirling in silver eyes instead. Their warm pools attempting to draw him in.

There was a question there that made Harry feel unbalanced and unsteady. Perhaps he was not ready to discuss relationships with the attractive man he kept coming back to for his caffeine.

He cleared his throat and broke the eye contact, holding up his mug with a quiet “thanks.” walking back over to his usual chair, passing by Blaise who was grinning, fanning himself with a small torn piece of paper with Charlie’s number scrawled along it.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Halloween day dawns gloomy. Of course it does.

Something aches deep in Harry’s chest as he stares blankly out his window from his bed.

The house is quiet. But it’s unlikely for Remus to have gone to work today. It’s like a fucked up holiday for them all.

He wonders some days if he should feel embarrassed that he still lives with his godparents and Teddy, but he spent so many years trapped in hell, that some days he still wakes up surprised to have his own bedroom that’s comfortable and safe.

Downstairs in the living room, Remus is laying on the couch, one of the Irish wolfhounds, likely Moony, laying across his legs. Rain and cold always made the professor's joints catch and his old wounds ache. Today seemed to be that kind of day.

His godfather still opens his arms in his reclined pose, and Harry goes to them willingly, kneeling beside the couch to get as fatherly a hug as he can.

It makes Padfoot thump his tail against the ground, but the old dog doesn’t get up from in front of the fire either.

“Hey pup, Sirius and Teddy ran out to grab some brekky, you sticking around?” And Harry hates the question but knows it’s a good one.

Sometime around age 13 he started wandering, a restlessness in his body that his therapist thinks was his years of feeling caged finally escaping. And around emotional times, he felt better out in the world.

“I think I can hang around a little longer, if they’re getting bacon.” He manages the slight joke, just to see Remus smile small, his scars pulling just a little.

Harry remembers asking if it hurt him once, to be happy. He had grasped both of teenager Harry’s darker hands within his tight enough as if to keep him forever, but loose enough that he could always pull away.

“I spent so long unhappy Harry, it feels amazing to have a physical reminder that there is love and joy in my life again.”

While Harry mourns Halloween for the future he lost, parents he never knew, and a life of suffering. Sometimes he thinks his godparents have it worse.

Sirius comes home with Teddy on his hip, and delicious smelling bags in his hands, but his eyes look gaunt, a little hollow like they had immediately after prison.

Sirius and Remus lost their best friends, and each other, for so long.

And on Halloween day, the ghosts are a little too close to the surface.

Harry turned 21 this year. The same age his father was when he was murdered

He knew how he looked, the picture on the mantle was a constant reminder. Just like his father, but Lily’s eyes.

The plates are barely off the table before Harry is out the door. He doesn’t actually run, still struggles not to feel like he’s being chased through the woods if he runs, but he walks.

Each step seems to echo in the silence of the world, occasional sounds of tires dragging along the wet pavement of the road, but his head feels like the silent tone after a final bell ring. Empty and full.

It’s unsurprising his feet carry him to Slyther i’N Sip, and the ridiculous paper cut outs of snakes in Halloween costumes in the front window does ease his soul a bit, especially the large purple snake with a witch hat riding a broom.

It’s ironically dead inside, only a quiet spooky soundtrack with a mix of childish songs and the occasional Rocky Horror that Blaise likely slipped in filling the space. Severus Snake is nowhere to be seen, kept back in his box as the winter months approach.

But something does unclench in Harry’s heart when behind the counter is Draco Malfoy hair slicked ridiculously back, and if Harry’s eyes aren’t lying, he has plastic vampire teeth stuck in his mouth, and two red pricks on his neck.

Somehow, he still looks good.

His grin is large and Harry is sure his return one doesn’t reach his eyes, but the blonde doesn’t seem to notice.

“A pumpkin latte for you today, Har?” The man asks, only the slightest change in his posh accent from his extra toothy accessories.

But Harry hesitates, and his eyes are drawn to the space underneath the coffee options on the menu. Just three letters that make his throat feel a little tight.

“Is your tea- you make it yourself?” He asks quietly, and he gets a confused brow, but Draco launches right into an explanation of where they gets their tea mixes and some of the spices.

“May I smell your Chai?” The Boy Who Lived interrupts ever so quietly, and is gifted with an open tin under his nose and a soft soothing spice wafted his way,

“I’m sure you’ve had better, but I am quite proud of the balance of cardamom and ginger I’ve made, there’s a kick of mace to up the spice beyond the usual cinnamon,” and Draco loves to talk about his tea, just like his coffee and his snakes. Any other time Harry would feel enamored.

But currently the scent is making something in his brain struggle to reach out, like his heart strings are yanking at his memories.

“No I haven’t.” He interrupts again.

“Sorry?” The blonde asks, snapping the tin closed, locking out the smell. Increasing the yearning.

“I was raised by my mother’s family, they didn’t make chai.” He whispers, not looking into knowing grey eyes.

“If the Potter’s had a recipe, it was lost. I mean Sirius has tried but boiling water and a tea bag isn’t really-“ And this time Draco stops him, long soft fingers resting delicately against Harry’s brown. A stark contrast that finally gets Harry to look up.

“I’m sorry. It was today wasn’t it?” And Harry can only nod, wondering if he’s supposed to cry now or something.

But Draco doesn’t expect anything like that from him, only nods with a bit of a stubborn serious brow. Then waves Harry away from the counter.

“Go take your seat, and I’ll prepare something for you, no charge.” Harry attempts to protest, he had money to give really with his trust fund and the pay out from the courts. But Draco just sternly holds up a finger.

“The cafe is closing early due to a family matter, and I can’t possibly charge a friend when the store is closed.” That does try and squeeze a tear from Harry’s eye so he turns away and finds the cozy grey chairs he loves by the window. Despite the dreary atmosphere outside, it’s still safe and warm inside.

The king snake in its terrarium pokes its head from its hide to flick his tongue hello at Harry. It brings a little warmth back to his cold fingers.

Harry decides to send a quick message to Ron about where he is, not wanting to let Sirius know in case the man wanted to join him, but that way if his godparents got worried, they could always turn to Harry’s best friend.

The return message of kiss your snakes hello for me draws the first small laugh out of Harry that day, and he has to lay his head back a moment and breathe. Ron deserved an extra special gift for Christmas this year; maybe a special “babymoon” for him and Hermione.

A quiet “alright, there?” brings him back to the present, and Draco Malfoy is standing in front of him, out of his apron and balancing a copper tray piled high with cups and platters.

There were plates with cubes, some flat diamond treats, and some fried dough balls. Two steaming cups carrying the same spiced smell as the tea mixture Harry had smelled earlier, with the thick milky consistency implying it had been brewed directly in milk instead of water.

Alongside all the colors and smells were glasses of plain iced water, as if Draco knew that he needed to rehydrate after crying.

“My friend Parvati Patil gave us some sweets for Diwali this year,” Draco explained, pointing to the mix of small interesting shaped treats.

“These are different barfi, most are made of nuts and mixed with milks. And then you must recognize Luna’s coconut laddu.” And Harry did, his heart had felt almost full to bursting when the blonde girl had come to him, old recipe cards in hand and had asked for his help in making Diwali treats. He had never celebrated the holiday before, but she had given him an unobtrusive in to a part of his culture he had felt so desperately cut off from.

And here Draco was now trying to do the same. It was easier to have a friend guiding him, he had become overwhelmed the first time he had simply googled “Indian food” and learned the country was far larger than Britain and each part had its own cuisine and culture.

Sirius had looked so abashed when Harry had asked if he knew where the Potter’s had come from. But an abused teenager crashing in their guest room hadn’t had the wherewithal to delve into their background at the time.

Harry had many regrets. But coming to the snake cafe this Halloween, was far from one.

He tried the chai, and the flavors curled on his tongue like a cat in a window. The spices like a purr as they tingled, but never overwhelmed. The creaminess reminded him of hot milk after a nightmare, chasing away the gloom.

“This is wonderful,” he sighed to the blonde beside him who had been watching intently, who gave a grateful smile before sipping his own tea.

“How did you get into this?” And Harry waved a hand to encapsulate the whole cafe which seemed a bit more immense in its emptiness.

“Well - the Malfoy name should continue to be at the forefront of the law, a household name amongst the elite to take care of all their needs.” The blonde quoted with a slight sneer, and Harry had to blink to dispel the vision of Lucius Malfoy overlaid with his son. Draco gave him a grin then, something the Malfoy patriarch would never do, and relaxed back a little more thoroughly into the wingback.

“I tried, you know, took some psychology courses in college, preparing to make the jump to law, but I felt no passion for it.” They both take a sip of the tea again, Harry signing in quiet delight,

“But uncle Sev, with his chemistry and his concoctions, he always seemed to have such fire in him for it. So I thought maybe that was where I could excel.” Draco offered him half of a laddu, fingers barely brushing, a snowfall of coconut between them.

“When he got sick, I couldn’t whip up a tincture to soothe his pain, but I could make him tea. And when he started to waste away, it was the croissants from the bakery down the road that he always seemed to stomach best.” And Harry had heard about the man’s passing, very close to the time that Riddle had finally been sentenced, but he didn’t know that it had been so drawn out.

“Blaise was then the one to call me in a panic shortly after the funeral, and say a monstrous snake had broken into his home.“ Draco’s smile returned a little stronger after the previous dark topic, “And it seemed that Severus had been reincarnated to keep me out of trouble.” And they both giggle a little at that.

“Everyone is always so surprised I like snakes,” Harry says next, then almost wishes he had bit his tongue when happy silver eyes turn his way. Yes the other man had opened up to him, but it was a little different for him. His trauma would always be raw, would always be outside the normal, could always be sold to the press for a better story.

But Draco was looking at him so earnestly. And the barista had never given up his identity to anyone, had even left it up to Harry to tell Pansy himself a few weeks ago.

“Tom Riddle - Voldemort. I don’t like giving him the power of the stupid name he gave himself, so I always just call him by his real name.” And Draco doesn’t even flinch, just nods, holding his mug between both hands, focused and still.

“When I was 12, he attempted to use a poisonous snake to come after me. It was a convoluted scheme as always, but my best friend Hermione was the one who got bit and fell into a coma.” Harry stared into his chai, swirling the spices along the top as his brain went back to Hogwarts, the boarding school he was sent to because it was “safer” than a normal institution. However false that turned out to be.

“But I never hated the snake, it was just living its life and was being misused for its dangerous attributes. Hermione doesn’t hate them either, but Ron has never really gotten over his concern for us both.” And a hand is resting on Harry’s leg now, a comforting weight that puts the smallest shivers up his spine,

“I don’t think anyone has the right to tell you how to feel about those situations Harry, I’m not sure if anyone else can even begin to relate.” Harry is struck by the fact that Draco is smart, has part of a degree in psychology smart, and knows what he’s saying. But there is nothing demeaning about his attention or words, so Harry smiles up at him, earnest flush trying to overcome his cheeks.

“Thanks, Dray.” And a blush is far more obvious on the blonde cheeks as he pulls away, but Harry is glad to see that it’s there at all.

Draco doesn’t need to know about how both Ginny and him had been tricked into practically letting Voldemort through the door, the man’s sweet talking making him seem friendly and safe. The other man didn't need to know about the snake bite scars Harry carried either, or the guilt at his friend's pain. But somehow, Harry knew that Draco would understand that too. Wouldn’t judge him for childhood mistakes that he still held guilt over.

Eventually they part ways, and Harry leaves the sanctuary of the shop with his pocket feeling heavy. Nothing particularly has changed, except his phone has a new contact in it. Draco, with a small green snake beside it.

Unbeknownst to Harry, after typing his own name in the other’s phone, an emoji had also been attached to his contact. A small green heart.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Draco enjoys manning the register the most out of any of the jobs in the cafe, besides crafting the actual flavor profiles for drink specials. It allows him to pay attention to who is coming in the shop, and has the advantage of being able to see every terrarium they have to make sure no customers are bothering the snakes.

It's December, cold and grey, snow that had fallen overnight had melted and frozen, and the cafe had limited hours. If people didn’t like being out in this weather, the snakes especially didn’t enjoy being woken up at all.

Mostly, Draco is texting Harry. He had to keep fighting Pansy off his back for having such a crush and not admitting anything to the other boy, but their relationship had only just gotten past the general friendliness of seeing each other weekly in a place of business to, well, friends.

Currently, Harry is complaining about being left to his own devices to decorate the house, his godparents taking Teddy out to go shopping and saying he wasn’t allowed to come. It made Draco snort inelegantly as he leaned on his elbows on the wood of the counter, Harry Potter was the worst at receiving gifts Draco was quickly discovering.

A rush of cold air enters the cafe, signaling the door had been opened, so Draco slips his phone into his pocket after shooting a final teasing text about hanging up some extra mistletoe for him.

The men that have just entered look a little out of place, not that Draco is ever one to judge. The man that stomps up to the counter, shaking out his dark hair is wearing a leather jacket, and tight dark jeans, despite the fact he must be near Draco’s father’s age. He has some facial hair, but unlike Draco’s father, there are wrinkles starting to form on his face, evidence of laugh lines and a joy filled life.

The other man that had come in with him moves slower, likely due to the brace and cane, but also the young boy on his hip. He looks even older from a distance, sandy hair seeming grey, and clothes that of an ancient tweed clad professor, quite opposite the motorbike punk look of the man currently reading the menu in front of Draco.

The young boy on his hip has color rubbed through his curls, the type of nonpermanent chalk that children and party goers liked to use, in obnoxious holiday green and reds as he leaned from his father’s arms to point at the tanks.

When Draco can finally pull his eyes away from the absolute cheer the child seems to bring to a room, he has to stifle a gasp for the stormy eyes staring intently into his soul. The man had moved closer to the counter and was appraising him. He whips on a quick customer service smiles, and begins to ask how the man is doing/what he wants to drink before the man starts talking first,

“Draco, huh? Malfoy boy, right?” And it shocks any reply out of Draco’s head so he just stares blankly for a moment, a quiet uh filling the air.

He’s saved by the tawny haired man walking up with a gentle smile, the boy talking emphatically about how cool all the snakes are.

With a kiss from the taller man to the dark haired man’s cheek, the icy exterior seems to dissolve, and a real grin splits his face, making him seem younger as he takes the child into his arms.

“Are we sure Harry isn’t somehow Regulus reincarnated with his snake obsession?” The shorter man asks, and receives a chuffing laugh,

“No no, he’s much too dark, Regulus looked like he was made of marble.” And Draco’s brain is trying to catch up but it does curl around the name Harry because he knows a Harry. Then it clicks.

“Oh my gosh, you’re Sirius Black and Remus Lupin! Harry’s family!” And they laugh not unkindly at him, and a different kind of anxiety lands across Draco’s shoulders.

He’s not making the best first impressions,

“Yes, our boy talks about this place quite a bit, we thought he’d like some sort of gift card for Christmas.” And Draco immediately nods, knocking some of his hair into his eyes when he ducks to grab a gift certificate.

He’s babbling before he’s even upright again.

“I’ve read all your works on queer representation in horror, I especially loved ‘Monster in the Closet’,” Draco explains as he elegantly writes Harry’s name on the card, adding an extra large dramatic swoop to the final y.

Sirius looks put out about Remus being the one getting the attention, the once British bad boy used to being recognized over his professor husband.

Remus also looks surprised in a quietly pleased way, and his hazel eyes seems to assess Draco with a deeper understanding that makes him blush. Maybe he had just outed himself to his friend and favorite customer's parents.

Whoops.

“I wanna cha!” The boy pipes up next, toothy grin from where he’s squishing his colorful hair into his dad’s dark leather jacket.

“I think that might have caffeine, Teddy, and you’re too young to get your brother’s addiction.” Sirius winks at Draco then and he was a heartthrob for a reason. Draco thinks his cheeks might be as red as parts of Teddy’s hair.

“I can warm up some milk with the spices without the tea for him?” He asks shyly, wanting to do anything to have this family like him. Remus smiles bemusedly,

“That would be wonderful Draco really, and two mochas and whatever Harry loves to drink.” And Draco of course knows exactly what that would be.

He talks to Teddy as he makes the drinks, the young boy eager and smart,

“What’s your favorite snake?” Draco asks, expecting a fairly standard answer, but shouldn’t have if the smirk that spreads across Remus’ face is anything to go by.

“Hognose! They play dead!” The boy replies with all the exuberance most children discuss superheroes and cartoons.

“That’s right!” Draco can only say, the child eagerly receiving his “chai” milk and attempting to gulp it down before Sirius is begging him to take a moment and say thank you. The young blonde is enamored. He had never gotten the chance to have a brother, but if this was how endearing it could be, he was exponentially jealous of Harry’s current home life.

“I also like anacondas! They’re huge! Do you have any?” And the hazel eyes that are entreating him beneath errant green strands of hair makes Draco wish he could pull a giant Amazonian beast from his back pocket like magic.

“Unfortunately not, Teddy. They require water habitats. I do have a very big python though if you would like to meet him?”

~~~~~~~~~

Harry is stringing up a garland of dried oranges and pine cones over the kitchen window when his phone buzzes for the first time in a while.

He knows that Draco can be inconsistent with replies if customers come in, so it had given Harry a chance to work himself up about the teasing mistletoe text and whether it was actually flirting or not.

The text on the screen makes him furrow his brow in confusion.

Why didn’t you tell me the men in your family were so cute?

And then the picture comes in.

On one side is the recognizable blue brace and dark cane of Remus, and on the other is Sirius fuzzy with movement as if either jumping up or kneeling down quickly as the photo was taken.

In the middle is Teddy, all toothy grin, kneeling beside Severus Snake’s enclosure. Across his small arms is the reticulated python’s large body, head dangling on one side as he slid across the smooth arms, looking almost boredly into the camera as he’s manhandled by the eager child.

Well apparently that was where his family had snuck off to today. He doesn’t hesitate before he sends the reply -

Sorry, just wanted to keep you to myself for a while.

And if Christmas Day Harry texts Draco to meet the day after Boxing Day, and shows up outside the cafe wearing a wool sweater with a red and gold stitched snake on the front matching the pompom of the ridiculous knit hat he’s wearing, all to give Draco a messily wrapped book when he has no gift to hand in return, it’s not too shocking.

But the signed first edition pre-print of Remus Lupin’s follow up treatise “Monsters Out of the Closet” is a surprise. Especially with a small note inside in chicken scratch handwriting that says,

You’re the farthest thing from a monster I’ve ever met in my life <3 HP

Well, no one is around to feel Draco’s heart stutter.

~~~~~~~~

Draco Malfoy is not as social as he once was.

He has made many friends in his life, throughout his childhood where he was a bit of a snob, to college where he had become a bit too interested in partying and boys to really focus on academics, but in the end, a loyal few had stuck around.

Most had left the London area as time passed, leaving him in the friendly embrace of Pansy and Blaise as they ran the cafe together, but with the addition of Harry Potter and the man’s friendliness, it was a blink and you’ll miss it moment before Draco’s fried group had quadrupled.

And he would blame it all on Harry, thank you very much. Because without Harry, Charlie Weasley would have never ended up in Slyther i’N Sip, and Blaise would not have gotten locked down into his first, and with the way things were going, last long term relationship.

And if Charlie Weasley hadn’t been practicality one of Harry’s brothers from his connection to Ron Weasley, maybe Draco wouldn’t currently be out at a pub for a New Years Party.

Desperately trying to down his whiskey as Harry Potter dances as if there’s no one watching.

If Draco had understood Pansy’s gushing earlier as they got dressed in their shared apartment, the pub had been completely rented out by Harry and his godfathers, just so the Boy Who Lived could let loose with his friends to celebrate the next year’s dawn.

Draco had honestly been a bit surprised he had been invited. But Harry had insisted.

The blonde can’t decide if he loved or hated it.

Draco knew Harry was single, Blaise loved to espouse the man’s seeming lack of love life often during closing time at the cafe, so Draco wondered who the tight bodied Irish lad that he was currently moving with was.

Any spike of jealousy was quickly soothed when Dean Thomas, recognizable football star, stole him away, and an alone, and buzzed, Harry was then stumbling over to Draco with a wide grin. Draco’s heart beat just as loud as the bass from the speakers.

Within moments he has arms full of a touchy Harry, giving him a hug that lingers a bit too long as the other man coos in his ear,

“I’m so glad you made it.” And the scent of gin on the Desi’s breath wants to do things to Draco’s wherewithal, but he holds firm, stepping back from the warm arms he wants to remain in forever.

“Couldn’t dare to miss it.” He murmurs back, looking into eyes of melted emeralds. Draco had never seen Harry not put together, not hiding some part of himself.

A small part of him wondered if he should be worried about the other drinking, before he corrected himself, after all, Harry was his own man, and hopefully knew his limits by now.

“Dance with me!” Harry cajoled, somehow getting Draco’s drink out of his hand. His hands feel like hot shackles as he tugs the blonde into the small crowd of people laughing and dancing, some less elegantly than others.

They dance at arms distance at first, jumping around and spinning in circles, similarly to others. Harry’s happiness is infectious, and Draco quickly stops caring what others will think. Besides, no one is going to make fun of him for lousy footwork when Luna Longbottom is swaying out of time with the music with headphones over her ears, her husband and girlfriend trying to move around her.

Harry’s friends lack that cruel judgment that Draco had grown up with despite his parent’s best efforts. There’s only love here.

The music quiets at some point, but the energy stays high. People breaking off almost naturally into couples and such. Somehow Draco finds himself still wrapped up with Harry, long arms over the other man’s shoulders as they barely move.

Draco isn’t sure if he can handle what he might see in the other’s eyes, so he scans the crowd, resting his cheek with a sign against dark curls that smell quintessentially like Harry.

He finds Blaise easily and wished he hadn’t, because the new couple are not being subtle at all, lips locked despite the timer on the wall counting down still from a whole minute. He can’t help but snort and look away, bringing his eyes back to Harry who also catches sight of what has his uncomfortable.

Harry is much more bold, and his laugh much more open, as he crows at the pair;

“Get a room!” But they don’t seem to hear or care. So the friends just dissolve into giggles against each other, still swaying on the dance floor.

Draco is hyper aware of Harry’s strong hands where they lay hot on his hips, the timer moving swiftly to a new year.

“I think this is gonna be a really good year, Dray.” Harry says, earnest as ever, eyes searching the blonde’s face. And Draco agrees, and he thinks he knows what the other wants, and he wants it too.

But they’ve both been drinking. And this is only their third time hanging out besides the cafe.

So Draco cops out, and with a soft mumble of “me too.” He ducks swiftly as the countdown begins from 10, and lays a kiss on his friend’s cheek. Breathing in tightly at the sensation of stubble under his lips.

With a whisper of “Happy New Year” the blonde turns his back and leaves the pub, not looking around for fear that he might get drawn back into feelings he's not quite ready for.

~~~~~~~~~

The Malfoy family has always taken vacation in January, or at least that is what Draco tells Harry, and there's no reason for him to lie.

So they don’t see each other, and the cafe is closed, but they text. And have even called a couple times.

Harry had almost gotten up the courage to ask about New Years, but he didn’t want to sound desperate. It wasn’t hot for a man to go begging like “why didn’t we snog?”. So he couldn’t tell if things were actually strained or he was working himself up in his head.

His therapist liked to say that he preferred to avoid communication for fear that the disappointment he thought everyone had for him would come out and be true.

Sirius just told him to grow balls and ask the other boy out already.

Ron, the man whose wife had to convince him to propose after asking him out in the first place, attempted to help him with pick up lines.

Harry almost broke his phone when he threw it after seeing his best mate type out

Wanna slyther in to my bed?

Draco wouldn’t be back until February in fact, and had just sent Harry a selfie in front of the Eiffel tower with a caption that had made the man feel like he was about to pass out.

Sorry, I’m just too distracted by all the tall hard structures here

So Harry assumes he might still have a chance.

The cafe opens after a couple weeks, and even though Draco isn’t there, Harry still goes. Its comforting to be somewhere familiar. Even if things might’ve gone sideways with this crush, the snakes don’t judge him.

There’s a new guy behind the register when he walks into the snake cafe on a surprisingly sunny afternoon, with a name tag with rough block letters spelling out Theo. Harry waves at Pansy behind the espresso machine when he orders his regular, and is surprised by the side eye he gets from the cashier.

“How did you end up working here?” Harry decides to ask this Theo, trying to avoid awkward silence,

“Oh, I’m an old friend of the owner’s.”Theo replies with what could only be described as a biblically knowing grin.

Harry is shocked by the anger that wells up in him, the ferocity of which he hasn’t dealt with since he was 16 and hiding from a maniac. He feels his thumb nail actually dig into his finger, and the sting makes him realize he’s likely drawn blood.

The pause in conversation is dragging on too long for polite company, and Harry knows it, but he's struggling to come up with what to say.

He’s saved by Pansy placing his drink in front of him, knocking him out of his stupor. Her clever eyes have taken everything in within a moment.

“Yes, Theo has just moved back to London, and he’s marrying Astoria Greengrass actually.” And it eases everything out of Harry like a deflating balloon, and he gives her a small grateful smile even as Theo groans out a -

“Unfair, Pans, you’re ruining my street cred!”

“Thanks.” Harry murmurs to them as they devolve into some nonsensical argument and he goes to curl up in his favorite chair. A fresh shed is in the king snake’s terrarium, and Harry watches it hang in an invisible breeze.

He really needed to talk to Draco.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry has never really understood Valentine’s day.

Maybe it was the failed dates in his youth with girls he was never actually interested in, but the garish pinks and reds were annoying, and the amount of sugar was nauseating.

It seemed a little more tolerable the way Sirius and Remus always did it.

Sirius would wake up first, something about prison that never seemed to go away after the decade he’d spent inside, and he used the opportunity to make a full breakfast.

The spread would always be too much even for the family of four they had become, and included all of Remus’ favorites, including french toast and bacon just on the side of burnt.

Every year he got a bouquet, but it was never just red roses or something so boring. Sirius had a knack for floral arrangements he refused to talk about, but it shone through on Valentines, when he would carefully select snapdragons and baby’s breath, and mix them with soothing eucalyptus leaves that could be added to a soothing bath later.

It wasn’t much of a surprise anymore, but Remus seemed to love it every year. And the old professor always seemed to find an old record that Sirius was missing, the type that was considered lost to the years or even single recordings by bands that broke up.

Then the afternoon would include the two cuddled together, listening to the music, and a night on the town.

It was the sort of easy love that Harry craved, that he hoped to foster with someone.

And he had decided that despite his fear and loathing of the holiday, this Valentine’s he’d actually go out and do it. He would get a date.

Luckily he already had a man in mind.

Slyther i’N Sip was surprisingly busy. Plenty of couple’s gathered for an “experience” or partners attempting to fulfill their date’s love of serpents.

Harry could’ve sworn he saw Draco behind the counter when he had first walked in, but by the time he’s up to order, Pansy is smiling back at him, usual dark eye shadow traded for a smoky red to match her lips.

“Draco here?” He asks immediately, then bites his lip for how eager he sounds, especially when the girl giggles.

“He had to do something in the back, but he said your chair is waiting for you and he’ll be out in a mo’.” Harry shrugged and moved to the front corner as usual, happy to see Severus had finally returned to his cafe lounging, draped across both chair backs.

Then Harry sits, fingers picking at a hole in his jeans as he waits.

Draco had returned from France a couple weeks ago, and they texted as normal, but it seemed every time Harry attempted to come into the cafe, the blonde would vanish. He hoped the same wouldn’t occur today.

“Hi,” a shy but familiar voice interrupts his thoughts. And Draco is standing there, familiar copper tray in hand, in a pink pinstripe shirt that brought the pink flush in his cheeks out.
He looked good.

“Hi,” Harry breathed right back, grinning uncontrollably. Draco seemed to shift uncomfortably before he sat on the other chair, tray balanced on his sharp knees.

Harry sees for the first time that there is a rose laid alongside the mug, which has a red powder sprinkled over top the foam in the shape of a heart.

“I made you a special latte - rose and strawberry.” Draco says, rushing through the words, but neither man moves toward the drink. Harry is just looking at the other, cataloguing if he’s changed in the month they haven’t really been face to face.

When their eyes meet, they’re both caught, trapped in each other’s gaze. Until Harry clears his throat,

“Thank you for the drink Draco, it’s good to see you I wanted to ask-” But he’s cut off by the much posher voice, once again seeming in a hurry as if his bravery would fail. Any other time Harry would be annoyed, but the question that burst forth is worth being interrupted.

“Would you like to be my boyfriend?” And then Draco’s cheeks are as bright as the rose he picks up, twirling it anxiously in his pale fingers.

“This was supposed to be a romantic proposal for a date.” He mutters, nose scrunched in annoyance at himself.

“I was going to tell you how thoroughly you’ve snaked your way into my life.” Draco continues, pouting.

But Harry just laughs, not unkindly, and lays his hand over the others, stilling the poofing petals of the flower.

“Funny, I was about to ask you the same thing.” And then they’re just smiling at each other.

Harry breaks the spells to reach forward and grab the forgotten mug of coffee, taking a slow luxurious sip or the special drink his boyfriend had made just for him. If his sound of enjoyment is a little more drawn out than usual, who could blame him, it makes Draco smirk.

“That good, huh?” He asks, silver eyes twinkling,

And Harry was raised by pranksters and tricksters, but also romantics.

“Why don’t you have a taste?” And Harry Potter pulls Draco Malfoy in for their first kiss, lips sealing together in the private corner of the coffee shop, where their romance had initially begun to bloom.

Harry thinks he would never stop kissing the other man except for the weight of a creature sliding onto his shoulder, and an ever curious Severus attempting to drink his special latte.

The two young lovers split with a laugh as Harry attempts to maneuver himself away from the heavy python, and is quickly stuck leaning most of the way over into Draco, who doesn’t mind one bit.

As their giggle die down, Harry looks up once again, taking in his boyfriend’s smile.

“I’m so glad you decided to sell vegan pastries.” Harry sighs, kissing the back of a pale hand how he had wanted to for the past few months.

“Thanks for liking snakes so much.” Draco replies, chasing Harry’s slightly chapped lips again for their second kiss.

Eventually they would stop counting their kisses, and eventually they’d have to tell their families.

But for now, they would have a first date, and share their eighth and ninth kisses at Harry’s front door, tasting faintly of strawberries and coffee.