Flirting with Mischief

Author's Note: I have to thank Lindsay D. for helping me out with this plot in some ways. We used to role-play frequently, and I've begun to think about our plots that we've used.

And that's when I came up with this story in my head...

I dedicate this to Lindsay, who, unfortunately, I have not heard from for five years.

Snow was falling in the downtown district of the small, adorable town of Godric's Hollow, an unmarked village in the south of England. Outside, flakes could be seen drifting past the windows, changing direction every time a breath of wind blew past, and then continued its slow swaying downward. One small pile was collecting in each window, but those of a small coffee shop were slightly foggy from the warm, cheery atmosphere inside. A jukebox off in the corner was playing old classic rock songs, all made by Muggles, and occasionally it was visited by someone in their 30s or 40s, who deposited coins and pressed the buttons, choosing a different one.

That must mean the town was a Muggle one. Yes, of course it was. But that wasn't quite shocking. What really drew the eye was the barista behind the counter, dressed in the shop's uniform green polo shirt, with shaggy black hair and dark, penetrating eyes.

Only those eyes couldn't be seen just now; he was gazing downward at a dark mug he was busy cleaning with his washrag, leaning on his elbows on the front counter. It was completely bizarre seeing him here, he didn't seem at all the type to lower himself and work in a Muggle coffee shop.

Suddenly she was glad of the dark corner she was sitting in, with her mug lifted up to her mouth, hiding the bottom half of her face. True, her eyes would give her away, bright and impressively blue, but just as long as he kept his head lowered, and didn't chance a glance toward his left, he wouldn't see her.

A blonde girl, slender, judging by her frame, pranced up to him. It was obvious that he was just as popular here as he was at the school. Then again, it wouldn't matter where he went. He would always be known as a ladies man.

"I'm leaving for the night, sweetheart, are you alright with closing up?"

The dark-haired man straightened up, and nodded toward her.

"I'm fine. Go ahead, I'll wait for everyone to leave, and then lock up. Get some sleep, Melanie."

She looked delighted at the very sound of his voice. Merlin's beard, she'd probably piss her pants if she saw him smile. Her hand found his shoulder, and she, quite boldly, raised her lips to his cheek, leaving a short, hurried kiss there.

"G'night, Sirius."

And she disappeared in the back. Outside, the sound of a car engine could be heard, and headlights momentarily brightened the shop windows. And then she was gone, cruising down the street in her tiny girly car.

A few more customers picked up their things and left, carrying hot, steaming cups of coffee, some in their own personal cups, others in the shop's paper ones, with cardboard sleeves around the outside. The jukebox had played out, the last song being a slow, jazzy tune, and finally, the last one, an old man, possibly in his 60s, picked up his newspaper and donned his hat, nodding towards Sirius, and left the shop.

A sigh escaped her and she set her mug down on the table, and took out a Galleon, nothing that should ever have been taken out here, but she felt the occasion was right. Her hand found the empty mug, with only drops of coffee left at the bottom, and walked quietly over to the front counter. His back was to her, and he was cleaning a few of the dishes in the sink. She set the mug down, a little loudly than she should have, but not loud enough to prove that she was trying to get his attention. Frankly, she was. He whirled around, though, at the sound of the mug on the countertop, and she set the Galleon down next to the mug, and a smile crossed her lips, forming the characteristic dimples on her cheeks, and she lifted her eyes, meeting his.

"Is this enough to pay for my coffee?"

His eyes lifted to hers, and widened there, just as she knew they would. He quickly turned off the faucet.

"Daphne? What are you doing here? In Godric's Hollow, of all places!" He turned and walked over to the counter.

She waved her hand dismissively.

"I wanted to come visit someone I thought would never work in a Muggle coffee shop."

He looked a little embarrassed. "Yeah, about that..."

She shook her head. "It's alright; I won't mention it to anyone. Your secret's safe with me. But tell me, why?"

He shrugged, a little helplessly at first, but ending in confidence. "I need the Muggle money to buy the Harley I want, so I'm here, building up a mountain of money. Can you believe it's made of paper?"

She shook her head. "Actually, it's cotton, but close enough."

He looked bewildered. "You actually know what it's made of?"

"Believe it or not."

"Well I don't."

He reached out his hand, and for a split second she believed he was reaching out to grasp her hand. But instead, it caught the mug, and he took it to the sink to give it a good rinse.

"So you didn't answer my question." She said over the sound of the running water. "Is a Galleon enough to pay for the coffee?"

He had finished rinsing out the cup, and left it in the sink, filled to the rim with water.

"We need Muggle money here, but I'll cover you this time." He took out some of the said money and put it inside the register, and then slid the Galleon back across the counter toward Daphne.

"You get to keep this." He ran a hand through his hair, and took off the black apron he had on, catching it onto a hook where it was left with other matching work aprons, and gestured her toward the door. Daphne quickly picked up her dark grey coat, wrapping herself up, and walked out the door.

A jingle of keys met her ear, and she turned and saw Sirius grinding a key into the shop's lock, and pocketing it. He fell into step beside her, both of them keeping silent for a while. But then, she noticed that he wasn't going off anywhere.

"Don't you have a car?"

He shook his head. "I'm staying with James, actually, down the street a bit."

She struggled against rolling her eyes. "What a surprise." She fell silent for a moment, then, "Mum and Dad took off for a vacation in some tropical islands. I think they called it Ha-why-ee. So I thought I'd come to a nice small town and take my holiday here for the Holidays."

He turned his head, a bit interested. "Where is it that you're staying?"

Her hand pointed at a snow-covered building, a little ahead of them. "There, the Bed and Breakfast. They know I'm there for three weeks, so I'm permanently booked until the last week. I plan on taking the Knight Bus back."

He pointed back at the hotel. "That one there? I'll walk you back."
She shook her head. "No, really, Sirius, it's fine, I can make it alright..."

"I insist. You really think I'm leaving a dashing young lady out in the middle of the night, while it's snowing, all alone?"

She eyed him for a moment. "I don't know Sirius. You know I'm not like other girls."

He nodded. "I know Daphne. I think you've drilled that into me since day one of first year. When have I ever tried to take advantage of you?"

Daphne adopted a mock thinking look on her face. "Hmm, I don't know Sirius. Let's think back to fourth year, when you were, what was it, 'experimenting' with love potions with James and Remus."

"Okay...but that was ages ago."

"And what about fifth year, when you caught me in that corridor alone with Matthew Penske? You just about punched his nose off his face!"

"Well, yeah, but the git had it coming to him."
"And last year, when you tried to sneak up the girls' staircase as a dog in the early morning, just to watch me get dressed?"
"How do you really know it was to watch you, though?"

She gave him an exasperated look. "Are you telling me you went up there to watch Lily? Or Marjorie?"
He shuddered. "Okay, you know I'd never have an interest in Lily."
"And Marjorie?"
"Her? Nah. She's too hairy for me. More of Remus's type."

This time she did roll her eyes. "I rest my case."

Still, he shook his head. "I promise you, there will be no advantage taking."

Her eyes narrowed, and she stood there, scrutinizing every last detail on him, and her mind was spinning with thoughts and ideas that crossed her mind, a few of them inappropriate, but she shook her head, more to herself than to him at all.

"I'm sorry Sirius, I can't..." She glanced upward, noticing that they had walked over to the entrance of the hotel, and her eyes darted back to Sirius's, with a look of regret. "I'd rather not risk anything."

One of his brows shot up, arching it. "Risk? What's the risk?"

"The way I look at it, there's two risks. One of them is that you break your promise and do take advantage of me. There's no possible way that you could tell me that you wouldn't throw me away like your other one night stands. The other risk is rumors."
"What do you mean?"

She gave him a serious look, and was almost amazed at how thick he was being. "Do you mean to tell me you're not going to go running back to the Potters' to let James know all about it?"

Sirius opened his mouth for a moment to retort, but then closed it.

Daphne spoke up. "Exactly my point. So once again, Sirius, I'm sorry, but I can't let you stay here tonight."

For a moment they stood there, silent, gazing at each other. Sirius could have melted her with the intensity of his gaze, but she stood her ground, put up all her defenses, made sure she didn't swallow her words and tell him he could stay. And then she realized that was what he was waiting for.

Maybe he wasn't thick at all.

She leaned forward, giving Sirius a small hug, and brushed her cheek against his in a French-style cheek kiss. "Goodnight, Sirius."

Reluctantly, it sounded, he answered her. "Goodnight..."

He watched her go inside, and once the wooden front doors had closed, he smiled, and turned his back on the hotel, making his way down the street. It wasn't long before he reached the Potters' house, which was quite dark: everyone had gone to bed.

Well, not everyone. Just as he'd known it, Sirius walked into the bedroom he shared with James and found him sitting up in bed, reading.

Wait, reading?

"James, why on earth are you reading a book in the middle of the night?"

James hastily closed the book shut with a snap, and his eyes darted upward. "Oh, evening. You're home late, what took you, mate?"

Sirius shook his head. "Answer my question first, Prongs. You never read books, and definitely not in the middle of the night. What, have you swapped souls with Moony?"

James shook his head, hurriedly shutting the book in the top drawer of his nightstand. "Nothing, Padfoot. Why are you late?"
Sirius narrowed his eyes, studying James for a moment, before he shrugged it off. "Ran into an old friend at the shop."

"Who?"

Sirius glanced over at James, with a wicked grin on his face. "Daphne."
James sat bolt upright. "Daphne? Mate, for Merlin's sake, why are you here?!"

The grin grew wider in amusement. "She didn't want me at the hotel with her."

James looked surprised. "She staying here? Sirius, you let her go? I'm disappointed in you, mate."

Sirius furrowed his brows. "Why would you be disappointed?"

James lifted up the covers to his bed, crawling inside them. "Where's the infamous Black charm? Don't tell me it has no effect on her?"

Sirius followed suit, getting under his own covers. "I didn't even try using it on her, I didn't want to."

James opened his mouth to say something, and then closed it, shaking his head. "Sometimes, I don't even understand you, Sirius." He turned his back to Sirius. "You let an incredibly gorgeous girl go without a second thought."

Sirius smiled to himself, staring up at the ceiling. "Yeah, mate, I let her go. But I do have second thoughts."

He could hear a scoff from the other side of the room, and then James's voice.

"What second thoughts could you be having?"

For a moment, silence passed, then, "The little details of her. The way her eyes sparkle when she smiles. The dimples in her cheeks, and the way only the very tip of her nose is red in cold weather."

James joined in. "Don't forget the shiny caramel-brown locks."

Sirius laughed at James. "Shut up, James, or I'll give you butterfly wings to wear tomorrow." He grabbed his wand from the bedside table and flicked it at the lamp, dousing the room in darkness.

"Goodnight, Prongs."
"Goodnight...pussycat."

Sirius snorted, and turned over, shutting his eyes.

His dreams were filled with blue eyes, butterfly wings, and coffee mugs.