The Idea of Draco

6 - The Customer

"What are you doing here?" I ask, a little breathless just by the mere sight of the boy with the crooked smile and twinkle in his grey eyes.

His lips flicker upwards, lighting up his eyes further. "Your daughter invited me - remember?"

"Yes, but that was before- before the... um-"

"Before I told you I wanted to take you back to my bed and screw you senseless?" A flash in his eyes. "Sorry to have scared you off."

"I wasn't scared off," I argue, feeling my face flush. "I had a daughter to look after. Oh, and by the way, you can tell your friend, Blaise, that if he touches her again I will come and personally chop his dick off. I don't care if he's Mimi's favourite Wanderers player, she's just turned fifteen years old."

"Ouch." Draco says, chuckling softly. "And out of curiosity, who is your favourite Wanderers player?"

"I don't have one. I-"

"-hate Quidditch," he finishes for me with a smirk. "Yes, I believe you have already made that clear to me."

Suddenly his smirk vanishes, his eyes narrowing as he looks more carefully at me, stepping closer. "Are you alright? You look like you've been crying."

Ah, fuck. I probably have mascara tracks down my face. Just what I need. Thanks a fucking lot Bill.

I quickly wipe a sleeve across my cheek in horror and humiliation. "Just cutting onions."

He raises an eyebrow. "In a cake shop?"

"Yes. Why not?" I say stubbornly. "It's a thing."

"Well, you've got-" he motions to his own cheek, and then steps towards me, reaching out to cup my face. He wipes his thumb below my left eye. "There. It's gone."

His touch causes my breath to hitch in my throat. I can feel my face grow hot almost immediately.

"Is everything alrig- Oh-" Dennis says, stepping out form the kitchen, stalling as he sees the visitor who still has his hand on my face.

Draco lets his hand fall away as he turns towards my red-faced assistant. He immediately holds out a hand. "I'm Draco Malfoy. And you are?"

"Ah- um- Dennis," Dennis says hurriedly stepping forward to eagerly take Draco's hand. "Dennis Creevey."

Recognition hits Draco's face at once, and I see a pink tinge rise to his cheeks. He pulls away his hand a little too sharply, not unnoticed by me or Dennis.

"Draco's just popping in to buy a cake," I say as a way of diffusing the sudden tension. "He promised Mia."

"We're closed," Dennis says. "I put the sign up so that Sol can finish decorating the cake for her best friend's wedding tomorrow."

"It's okay," I say quickly. "I don't mind, really."

Draco looks at me with interest. "A wedding? Do you have a plus one?"

"She doesn't, actually." Dennis answers before I can. "But I'm sure Gina won't mind squeezing in an extra so her maid of honour can have a date."

"Dennis!" I hiss, glaring warningly at him.

"What?" he says. "Gina kept telling you to bring someone in place of your prick of an ex-husband. Who, by the way," he says, turning to Draco, "has just announced he has impregnated his little french tart. So if he can start a new family up, then I think it's about time Sol started dating."

"I completely agree." Draco says with a flicker of a smile. "And I'd be more than happy to fill that position for you."

"It's too short notice," I say quickly, suddenly panicking. "Gina will freak out."