"What is this place?" Kris asked as they walked into a little café. Harry shrugged his shoulders as they both walked towards a little table. They sat across one another.
"You don't need to worry," Harry said in a soft tone, noticing a bit of distress in her expression. "Just try to relax, love."
"I can't help it— what are you doing?" She whispered harshly at him as he pulled out The Daily Prophet.
"What?"
"You're—!" She gripped the corner of the paper and shook it violently.
"Would you like a cup?" A girl walked up to their table with two mugs and a pot of coffee in her hands.
"Oh," Kris cleared her throat, "yes, please."
The woman bent down to set the mugs on the table. She carefully poured the hot drink and looked at Harry. Kris noticed her staring and grabbed the newspaper from Harry, folding it before setting it under her arm.
"Thank you," Harry said to the waitress. After she walked away, Harry pulled the newspaper out from under Kris's arm, unfolded it, and continued to read.
"Are you sure," Kris sipped her hot coffee, "that it's safe to read that here?"
"Of course," Harry sighed as he ruffled it. "There have been high accounts of Death Eater attacks. Snape—not saying he is one—might be part of this."
"Don't say that about him, by the way, you completely contradicted yourself."
"Don't deny it, Kris. I can tell that you also believe he may be one."
"No, he's my godfather, and he would never serve You Know Who. Also, do you think it's wise to read the paper, with your name as one of the bolded titles?" Kris huffed and slumped back in her chair. Harry scoffed and flicked the paper to straighten it. Kris's eyes darted to behind the counter, and one of the cashiers were admiring Harry.
"You have a little admirer, Love," Kris sighed as she rolled her eyes. "She's walking over here..."
"Harry Potter," she read off the cover, "Who's Harry Potter?" The cashier grabbed the corner of the paper to read it more clearly.
"Oh," Harry gasped as he quickly set the Prophet down, "no one."
Kris glared at the cashier, who won't leave their table, and scoffed at her remark about reading the Prophet in this place.
"Bit of a tosser, really," Harry shakily added.
"Hm," Kris hummed, keeping her arms crossed.
"Funny," the cashier twirled her short brown hair, "that paper of yours. Couple of nights ago, I could've sworn I saw a picture move."
Kris widened her eyes, Harry lied about it being his first time here. She darted her eyes at him, and furrowed her eyebrows at him.
"Really?" Harry nervously laughed as he felt Kris's eyes shooting daggers.
"Thought I was going around the twist," the cashier rocked back and forth on her heels.
Will she really keep this conversation going? Kris though to herself.
The cashier finally walked away, Kris sighed with relief until Harry stopped her.
"Hey," Harry stalled, "I was wondering..."
"Eleven," the cashier smiled. "That's when I get off. You can tell me all about that tosser."
