A Calamity of Love and Lies

Chapter 1: A Serendipitous Sip

Harry glanced at his watch: 11:15 AM on the dot, meaning it was 6:15 AM, meaning the New Yorkers around him would soon be starting their days, if they hadn't already (he could tell many already had by the smattering of cars and yellow taxis already bustling through the streets). He'd meant to change his watch before he touched the Portkey – a punctured football abandoned on the edge of a grassy field that had not been trodden on in many years – which sent him in a dizzying daze across the Atlantic Ocean. But Harry was a little homesick, and something about his watch being in the same time zone as the grandfather clock in his home at 12 Grimmauld Place made this unfamiliar American city feel a lot more familiar.

During his time at Hogwarts, Harry could count on one hand the number of times he'd had coffee. He preferred the sweetness of orange juice or the comfort of hot earl grey tea over the bitter, earthy taste of coffee, but he knew it was the beverage of choice of several Ravenclaws who raved about its pick-me-up abilities after a night full of cramming for exams or practicing brews. When Harry began his work as an Auror, though his nights were occupied less with scholarly pursuits and more, instead, with dark wizards, he become quite a fan of the Invigoration Draught, which tasted of peppermint and honey.

However, he found it harder and harder to secure a vial when the Ministry of Herbology, the organization responsible for overseeing the standards of use for plants and herbs, issued a warning about Alihotsy leaves, one of the main ingredients in the Draught. He turned to Hermione for help, hoping with all her brilliance that she could be the one to find a replacement for the leaves so that Harry could continue to work into the night and return to his desk just a few hours later. But Hermione was too busy curing lycanthropy, completely overhauling the curriculum of Muggle Studies, or something of that caliber. She answered his question hastily, barely sparing a moment to glance at him over the teetering pile of paper on her desk: "Coffee. Muggles have been using it for ages to stay awake."

Harry had asked Nixie, his house-elf (who chose to work for Harry even after he gifted her a sock in Dobby's memory), to make him a cup. A snap of her fingers later, a mug of steaming dark brown liquid was perched on the edge of his coffee table. Nixie was visibly upset when Harry spat it out immediately, splattering dark brown splotches all over the copy of The Daily Prophet she had just fetched from the doorstep. A suggestion was made to add milk and sugar, and Harry was able to keep down his next sip – maybe even enjoy it. He returned to his long days at the Ministry, cups of coffee appearing on his desk every few hours as he worked into the night.

Feeling the familiar ache of caffeine withdrawal gnawing at his head, Harry quickened his pace, his eyes scanning the bustling streets for a beacon of light – a coffee shop open in the city that never slept. He passed laundromats, jewelry stores, delis, all just starting to open, until he finally found it, tucked away on the corner of – he craned his neck to see the street signs – Howard and Broadway. The sign above the awning read "Brews and Books", and a handwritten 'OPEN' sign hung invitingly in the window. A bell tinkled above him as he pushed the door open and stepped inside.

Immediately, Harry felt as if he was back in his eleven-year-old body, stepping into the Gryffindor common room for the first time after Percy said "Caput Draconis" to the portrait of the Fat Lady in his usual self-assured manner. Inside, the coffee shop was cozy and inviting exuding a sense of warmth and nostalgia.

The coffee shop was a blend of bookstore and café (he mused on its apt name). Tall bookshelves, crammed with an eclectic mix of books, lined the walls, inviting patrons to browse and linger. In the corner stood a grand fireplace, reminiscent of the one in Gryffindor Tower that he has used to speak to Sirius, though it was not yet lit in the early morning, though the promise of its warmth lingered in the air, ready to welcome customers as the day grew colder.