Harry stepped into the coffee shop, immediately feeling out of place. Hermione had got him a gift card for the upper class feeling café as a birthday present, knowing he liked good coffee and knowing he was long due a more expensive treat, if only small as a fancy coffee. Still, 5 months Harry had put off using it, and this was exactly why. Harry was not the only person wearing jeans, however he was alone in the scruffy state of said jeans and the baggy t-shirt to go with them. Still, he continued walking to the counter with his head low, rehearsing in his head how to order a cappuccino without stuttering. He did so without a mistake, and waited patiently for the drink to be made. The cup was placed neatly on a tray with a spoon and amaretti biscuit by its side. Harry forced his gaze up to the friendly barista as she looked at him, reaching into his pocket from his wallet, ready to be asked for payment.

"Are you two paying together or separate?"

Harry's head jerked to the side, noticing for the first time the man behind him in the queue. He felt his face go hot, and tried to stutter out an awkward response of no, when the man interrupted him in a smooth, calm, and almost amused voice;

"Together, thank you."

His face grew somehow hotter, and he tried to compose his breathing and facial expression while the man paid for Harry's cappuccino and his own Americano, and Harry was amazed that he was able to follow the man to a table without tripping. They sat down, and Harry stared down at his cup, too awkward to even thank the man.

"Draco Malfoy," he greeted, extending his hand.

Harry shook it, replying "Harry Potter", still without making eye contact.

"My apologies for taking you by surprise in such a way, Mr Potter, I did not mean to cause you any alarm."

"Um, it's okay, uh, call me Harry" he stammered out, mentally kicking himself for appearing so uncomfortable in such a place where he already looked the odd one out, but grateful for his slowing heart.

"Then you must call me Draco."

Harry finally looked up at Draco. He was greeted with a charming smile and a pair of strong steel grey eyes, giving his heart one last jump before it settled completely to the situation.

"You're not meeting anybody, are you?" Draco asked, confidently, as if he already knew, Harry thought. Whatever the tone was, however, it made Harry feel a bit more at ease in the situation.

"I'm not, no. I'm just waiting here while my wife does the Christmas shopping. Do you come here often then?"

"Rather frequently." Harry wasn't surprised, by the quality look of Draco's casual suit. "You're married?"

Harry nodded affirmative.

He must have seen something in Harry's facial expression, and must've had some nerve about him (though Harry wasn't sure he minded), as Draco raised a single neat blond eyebrow and asked "Happily?"

Harry thought back to the marriage counsellors, the continued fights, and the eventual decision for a divorce between Ginny and him.

"We've had some struggles," money. "Some clashes of nature," Harry found he rather preferred blokes. "We've filed for a divorce." Said in monotone – Harry didn't care particularly, but it would never be the easiest of processes.

"Ah. I am sorry to hear that, Harry." His voice was silky and his words articulate, and Harry did not mind learning about this stranger in an unfamiliar place, nor did he mind letting the stranger learn about himself in return.

After about an hour of general chatter, Ginny called Harry on his mobile to return to the car, and the two men strolled out of the café into the icy air.

"Thank you for the drink, Draco. It was very nice meeting you"

"The pleasure was all mine" the blond responded.

Draco then pulled out of his wallet a business card, and handed it to Harry.

"I would very much like to do this again, Harry. Sometime soon. Let me know when you are free."

Harry walked away, stunned. What the hell just happened? He had no idea. By the time he got back to the car, he was still dazed, despite the wind slapping his cheeks the whole walk there; he had been thinking of that silky voice, porcelain skin, and steel grey eyes. Ginny was sat already in the driver's seat, looking incredibly irritated.

"Took your time." She muttered.

Harry chose not to respond.