Cut From the Sky

Chapter 14: Marshmallows

In the darkness of the evening, Wizarding Strasbourg was beautiful. The cobblestones shone with rain, black and reddish brown and every shade of grey, winding through a tight knot of streets. The main street was far wider than those branching off it and led slightly uphill. In the distance, the towers of two Muggle cathedrals reached into the night sky. Parallel to the street ran the river, inky and glistening, its banks dotted with clusters of misty bushes and flowers heaving with the weight of the downpour. Against the spray of rain on his glasses, Harry could catch only glimpses of the city.

Malfoy was walking close beside him, his umbrella shielding Harry as best as it could. Harry was startingly aware of his presence beside him, of the small distance between them. Had Malfoy's hand not been up, holding the umbrella, they would have had to be careful lest their hands brush against each other's. The rain was loud, a constant splattering into the silence between them.

"What kind of food do you like?" Harry asked into the splatter. At Hogwarts, Malfoy's plate had always been stacked with leafy greens, and he'd usually eaten a bowl of soup before anything else, but then Hogwarts hadn't exactly offered an exciting variety of foods. Sure, Harry had been over the moon at the chance to stuff himself with as much chicken, jacket potatoes, yorkshire pudding and roast as he could every day, but the food at Hogwarts had remained firmly grounded in British cuisine, which in hindsight had been rather repetitive and a tad drab.

"Anything they didn't serve at school," Malfoy replied as if he'd read Harry's mind. "Plus soups."

Harry grinned. He tried to grin at Malfoy, but the moment he looked over at him, a gust of wind sprayed water past his glasses and straight into his eyes and he blinked rapidly, Malfoy swimming through his field of vision. When he'd rubbed the water from his eyes, he peered out into the street, trying to remember the restaurants he'd noticed in the area. He remembered a glittery red one that appeared to be North Indian and a small Thai place that was always cluttered with people. Iimori and a cutesy crêperie, a French restaurant that seemed endlessly posh and upscale and a German beer garden. Harry glanced at Malfoy, trying to picture him in any of these places.

"Umm." He took a left towards a side street lined with restaurants, Malfoy following closely by his side, "Let's see what's over there."

***

In the end, Harry didn't have much of a choice: Peering through the windows, all restaurants were filled to the brim. He stepped into the Indian place, only to be informed they'd have to wait around 40 minutes for a table. It was half an hour to an hour at the posh French place. The crêperie was closed and the beer garden hosted a live concert which featured an ensemble of soaking wet merfolk singing the tales of the legend of Lorelai in eerie, breathy voices and with every place Harry dismissed, he became more fearful that Malfoy would give up for the night and promise to see him on a nonexistent Sunday instead.

So far, Malfoy had been happy enough and perfectly docile, nervously prattling on about Lorelai, about a legend of nightfall and moonshine and cunning magic, about a necklace of amber and the river Rhine. Harry wanted badly to listen and learn, but his stomach was knotted with nerves and the feeling he was running rapidly out of luck. The beer garden was jam-packed.

"Potter," Malfoy said, brushing his hand against Harry's shoulder just briefly to grab Harry's attention. Harry almost jumped. "Do you like Pizza?"

Harry nodded, somewhat desperate for Malfoy to take the reins. "I know a place," said Malfoy, taking the reins.

The place Malfoy led him to was in a sidestreet Harry hadn't yet been to. It featured mostly residential houses, small crooked timber, among them a quill shop and a basement store that promised the best cauldrons money could buy in several languages. The pizza place was small. A single square table was pushed into a corner, stacked with crates of red wine. It was taken by two children practising Wingardium Leviosa on a glob of mozzarella.