Here is the last chapter of RSC! It is kinda long, and Cho-less [ she is so difficult to write. In fact, the last part was the hardest. The rest of it was written out in two days.] We get a few more revelations, a few more romances, and so enjoy

Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter characters. They belong to JKR.

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Su yawned as she stumbled over the threshold of the Café Tombe de Cheval. Wayne was already inside, sweeping out the floor.

“Morning,” she greeted, tossing her jacket over one chair.

“Hullo. Draco’s not here yet, but Castor’s in the kitchen,” he told her.

“Oh good. I was wanting to talk to him.”

Inside, Castor was rolling out dough. Su watched him a moment, blinking.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Baking pie,” he replied. “My brother sent over apples from his orchard yesterday, and so I thought I’d bake some apple pie. Want to help?”

Su stared at him. He hadn’t changed into his uniform yet, and was wearing the remains of an elegant suit with an old-fashioned ribbon tie. His coat had been tossed over the counter, his sleeves rolled up, the top of his collar unbuttoned, and flour dusted his face and black hair. He grinned at her and Su wondered how he could still look so cute when he looked like a four year old who had been left in a bakery unsupervised.

“Okay.” She dropped her purse on the counter next to his jacket and hooked an apron over her head. “Where do I begin?”

===

That was how Wayne found them when he came in from the yard. Castor had now a complete dusting of white all over him, and Su fingers and face were already sticky from mixing the apple with sugar and cinnamon.

“Draco’s going to be here in less than an hour,” he warned, surveying the mess with dismay.

“Aw, don’t be worried!” Su said cheerfully, popping a sliced piece of apple into his mouth and ruffling his sandy hair with her other hand. “You can clean it up for us!”

Wayne wept internally, and shuffled out to get the broom and dust pan.

Suddenly, the front door of the café burst open, shoved so hard that it smacked the wall with an ominous crack.

“Arrrgh!” Castor yelped as Su dropped the mixing bowl on his fingers.

“Su Li! Su Li! SU LIIIII!!!!!” someone shrieked from the entrance.

Calmly, Su wiped her hands on her apron and blew on Castor’s fingers before exiting the kitchen.

Natalie Macdonald stood in the doorway, looking harried and slightly hysterical.

“Hi, Nat. What’s going on?” Su asked, then stopped short when she saw the slender stick grasped in her rival’s hand. “Hang on- did you magick our door open?!”

Natalie charged forward, heedless of Su’s anger. “It’s all your fault!” she wailed, grasping Su’s hands in her own. “What am I going to do? I can’t cook worth shit!”

“What are you talking about?” Su asked, mystified. “Nats, your hair is an awful mess, and you really should stop smoking, your breath is disgusting.”

“Hang my hair and hang my breath! Don’t you realize we have a crisis here?!” Natalie’s wild eyes bored into her own.

“What crisis?” Su demanded, Natalie’s unnerving behavior catching on. Natalie looked at as if she couldn’t believe what Su was saying, and then threw the back of her hand across her forehead, in an exaggerated pose of despair.

“Oh Su, you mean you don’t know?!”

“Know what? Natalie, if you don’t tell me right now-”

“Harry is leaving!”

“What’s that got to do with us?”

Natalie gave another despairing shriek, and called for Harry to come into the café. Su stared as Harry entered, lugging a huge suitcase behind him.

“Harry, what is this all about?” she asked blankly.

“I am merely following my destiny,” he replied grandly, positioning his baseball cap majestically.

“And, so why are you wearing that…exactly?” Su asked, pointing. Harry looked down.

“My robes?” he asked.

Everyone nodded, except for Natalie, who was by now clinging to Su’s shirt and crying steadily.

“Well, I’m moving back to the wizarding world,” he explained. There wasn’t a more shocked silence as the other occupants in the room processed the information. Harry looked confused. “What?”

“But…why?” Castor asked, flabbergasted.

Harry blinked. “What do you mean, ‘why’?”

“Because, well, uh…”

“Because that’s a completely ridiculous and pointless gesture!” Su put in.

“Maybe it is,” Harry shrugged and adjusted his robes. “But I follow where Draco goes, for it is written in the stars that someday, I shall claim victory at-”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Su waved her hands to cut Harry off. “What did you say?”

“It is written in the stars-”

“Before that.”

“What? I follow where Draco goes?”

“Exactly. What the hell do you mean?”

“Didn’t he tell you?”

“Tell us what?” Su asked, a cold feeling starting to grow inside.

“Er,” Harry suddenly looked very embarrassed. “Never mind. No, I’m just going back, that’s all. Nothing to do with Draco at all, not one bit. Nope. Malfoy is definitely not going home to Malfoy Manor or take over his inheritance, but I am!”

A ringing silence followed his clumsy words.

“Su? Su?” Natalie sniffed and patted Su’s face fretfully. “Look at me! I’m the one in trouble here! You have three other chefs; I have only Harry!”

“Calm down, Natalie,” Castor assured smoothly and gently shook Su’s shoulders. “Su, snap out of it. We don’t need hysterics right now.”

Su’s face had gone pale, and she blinked a couple of times before refocusing in on Castor’s face. He sighed in relief, then winced as Su’s eyes sparked and burst into a red-alarm fire.

“You…lying…dog!” Su hissed at Harry, her hands clenching around a fork. With one motion, she launched the mighty vegetable-stabber at Harry, who yowled and jumped to avoid it. “How dare you lie to me! How dare you! Take this! And This! And-” Soon Harry had a row of metal cutlery pinned to the floor besides him.

“I’m not lying!!” he bawled as he dodged the projectiles. “Nats! Tell them! I swear I’m not lying!”

“Don’t try to blame it on someone else!” Su roared, taking up another set. “I’ll have you telling me the truth, you complete nitwit, you moron, you-”

“Stop it, Li!” Draco’s sharp voice cut through the din, and everyone froze in their motions. A moment later, Draco strode into the café, glaring in a rather distempered manner. Behind him Orla came in and closed the door quietly before running into the kitchen to complain to Wayne how scary it was working there.

“Malfoy, this scum of a trash bag here is telling lies about you! He’s saying that you’re, you’re,” Su broke into hysterical laughter. “You’re going home. Isn’t that silly?”

No one else was laughing, and slowly, Su stopped and stared at him.

“…Oh God. You are leaving,” she stated dully.

“I’m sorry, Su,” he replied quietly. “I didn’t have a choice.”

She stared at him as if she couldn’t believe her ears, and shook her head slowly.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said, although to what no one was sure. Without another word, she turned and walked into the kitchen. An uncomfortable stillness settled on the rest of them. Finally, Draco gave a small shake, and seemed to notice Harry for the first time. He frowned.

“Potter, those robes are about a mile too small for you. You look stupid. Take them off,” he said irritably. Harry looked affronted but complied.

“Well, I’m assuming if we’re going back to the wizarding world, I’ll need to start wearing robes again.”

Draco shook his head as if he didn’t really understand. “Why are you coming back with me?” he asked.

“Because, it is our destiny to oppose each other at every twist and turn that life throws our way?” Harry suggested in a perfectly innocent tone.

“Stay here,” Draco told him. “Nats needs you.”

“Nats?” Harry looked at Natalie, and laughed. “What are you talking about? Nats is strong. She doesn’t need anyone at all, certainly not me!” he said proudly, grinning at her. She burst into fresh tears and rushed past them towards the door.

“You idiot!” she screamed over her shoulder, and pulling out one of the knives embedded in the floor, hurled it wildly at Harry and ran out onto the street.

“Auugh!” Harry yelped and barely caught the knife before it buried itself in his thigh. “What’d she do that for?” he muttered, frowning. Shaking his head, Draco resisted the urge to run Harry into the nearest wall.

“Are you a complete dumbwit? She doesn’t want you to go, numbskull!”

“What?” Harry looked startled. “Why?”

“Because maybe she just might kinda sorta like you or even perhaps maybe slight chance that she might even love you,” Draco explained patiently. The shock on Harry’s face was amusing for a brief moment, as was the unappealing dark red flush invading his face.

“Wh-what should I do?” Harry asked, torn between his destiny and his chain-smoking boss.

Draco rolled his eyes and dragged Harry to the door.

“Do you even have to think?” he asked derisively. “Go after her. Believe me, she needs you more than anyone else ever will.”

“But-but destiny…you, me, fight…” Harry stammered, his eyes nevertheless looking for Natalie’s blonde hair.

“Forget it,” Draco said firmly. “You don’t need it anymore.” As if that made up his mind, Harry nodded determinedly, and jumped out two steps before he pivoted around again.

“And-and what about Cho?”

Draco bristled.

“What about her?”

“Well, I like her, and you like her, but-”

“I don’t like her!” Draco protested before he could stop himself. “Look. Cho will never like you as Nats does. Ginny never liked you like Nats does. Do you really think it wise to let her go?”

Harry chewed his lip again, but finally, his browed cleared, and he smiled.

“You’re right, Malfoy. Say, you’re not so bad after all,” he said, and took off running after Natalie.

Sighing, Draco slammed the door shut behind him.

“Do you still have time to play relationship counselor?” Castor asked him dryly, his arms folded across his chest.

“Oh, shove it, Warrington. I am not in the mood,” Draco growled, not noticing the dark look on his face. In a flash, he found himself pinned up against the wall, Castor’s piercing eyes glaring into his.

“Whose fault do you think it is?” Castor hissed dangerously. Draco was too surprised to move, and only stared back at his friend in shock. Back in school days, Castor had always been considered the dandy, afraid of getting his hands dirty and preferring to be a bystander rather than part of the melee, but there was a reason he’d been sorted into Slytherin. Draco was reminded of the fact then, and felt a twinge of fear, even though he was sure he wouldn’t do anything. A moment later, Castor’s eyes cooled, and he let go of Draco’s front.

“If you ever think you can get away with making Su cry a third time, I will personally see to it that your corpse be buried in five different directions,” he said, almost sweetly, and left Draco alone in the café to join Su in the kitchen.

===

The rest of the week saw Draco working furiously in the kitchen. Orla confided to Cho later that they had never worked so hard before. It seemed as if he was desperately trying to leave behind his mark at the café, trying to teach Orla and Wayne every single recipe he could think of. Su refused to speak to him, and Castor merely went around with that deceptively sweet smile, leaving Draco concentrating on his work harder than ever.

Finally, it was the last day for Draco. With a touch of hesitance, he pulled the hat off his head and tossed it on the counter. Outside, Orla, Wayne, Castor and Su were already waiting for him. Alone in the kitchen that felt oddly empty, he folded his arms and stared long and hard around him. Finally, he slapped the countertop, grabbed his jacket, and left, flicking off the lights behind him.

The five of them had dinner at the Café Fonce de Cheval, where Nats proudly announced her decision to quite smoking after closing the doors early. Harry, resigned to his job (and looking rather relieved for it), had baked a cake in the form of a gray tombstone with Draco’s name on it. Despite the ominous victuals, they had one last good laugh over it, and managed to make light of it. Before they dispersed, Su finally stood up with a champagne flute in her hand.

“Speech!” Natalie ordered, and the others joined in the cheer, laughing. She nodded obligingly, and held up her free hand for quiet.

“I’d like to take this moment to say, Draco Malfoy, you are a mighty rat-fink. You are booger flicked off into the sewer. You are scum-muck beneath the boots of Italian fascists. I hate you and hope you live a crappy life until you die of utter schmuckness,” she proclaimed gravely, ignoring his shout of protest. “However, I do have some things I want to say, so shut up and listen well. We met,” she said, this time addressing everyone else. “when he tried to take my chocolate frog away from me. We were both sixth years then, and all I’d heard about him was that he was an utter disgrace. Well, we were in class one day, and I’d this box of chocolate frogs on my desk, and he just walked by and swiped one. I jumped him after class, and we had a big to-do about it, and after it all, he calmly told me that he thought I was the last girl on earth he’d ever thought was this amusing, and I think I half fell in love with him that day,” she said, grinning as the table burst into riotous laughter.

“Of course, I’m not so silly as to actually have let that happen,” Su assured them. “Anyways, he became, if not a friend, then a suspiciously friendly enemy from then on. I told him how twatty he was, he rambled on about my instability, and so on. When he disappeared after we graduated, I’d barely any contact with him. I met Castor afterwards, when I found out that he had also left our world, for various personal reasons. Castor was no Draco, but he proved to be just as amusing,” here she paused, and grinned crookedly at him. “It was awhile before he could convince me of his pure intentions, but in the end I believed him, and never for a day do I regret that.”

For a brief moment, the light in the Castor’s eyes brightened, but turned neutral again as Su continued her speech.

“Out of the blue, Draco contacted me one day, showing up with his chef credentials. It was certainly convenient, as Castor and I were debating whether or not to open up a small café or restaurant. Draco’s sudden return only solidified our decision to do so. And that was the start of our history of working together. Nats, Harry, I know I complain about you two quite often and loudly too, but it wouldn’t have been the same without you guys. Orla and Wayne, although you two are still relatively new to the mix, already, you’re part of the family. And because we are family, that is why it’s so hard to do this,” Su said, sniffling a little. She stepped away from her seat, and picked up a wrapped package from behind her chair.

“It’s a little gift from all of us to you,” she said, handing the package to Draco. “Keep it well. We’ll expect to see it whenever we visit you.”

Slowly, Draco took the small, square gift and unwrapped it. Inside was a framed picture that they had taken with a Muggle camera. It was recent, and had them all standing in a row making faces at the camera. He looked up at Su and thanked her solemnly. She shook her head, tears already welling up in her eyes. Castor noticed, and abruptly raised his glass.

“A toast!” he shouted, and everyone else raised their flutes. “To Draco, our migraine, our jerkwad, and our family—our brother.”

“To Draco!” they shouted with varying degrees of loudness. The object of the toast inclined his head deeply, his expression full of conflicting emotion.

“Thank you, everyone, for all your support, guidance, and patience,” he said hoarsely, eyes traveling around the table.

Under the table, Castor squeezed Su’s hand reassuringly.

===

And finally, Draco’s stuff was packed, and he was ready to go. The portkey point was a five minute walk away from his apartment. One last box was still waiting to be packed away though. Almost reverentially, he dusted off the cover and opened the lid. Inside was his wand, black and sleek, unused for almost four years. He picked it up, felt the wood in his palm, and rolled it around. Slowly, his awkward grip relaxed into a familiar one, and he flicked it experimentally. A small shot of sparks exploded from the tip, and despite himself, he grinned. He shoved it in his back pocket and picked up his duffel, leaving the box on the floor.

Cho was waiting for him downstairs.

“Hullo.” She waved to him. Withholding his surprise, he sauntered over to her casually.

“Hello, Chang. What are you doing here?”

“Seeing you off.” She stood across from him a little uncomfortably. “Would rather me not?” she asked, wringing her hands nervously. He shrugged.

“Suit yourself.” She dropped her hands abruptly and rolled her eyes.

The walk to the portkey was a relatively short one, but the quiet between them two made it seem ages longer. Finally, they were there, and Draco bent down to pick up the rolled up newspaper that was the portkey.

“It was good seeing you again, Cho,” he said at last, turning around to face her.

“Likewise,” she said softly. He cocked his head at her.

“What’s wrong?”

“Wha- nothing?” she said, looking up. Frowning, he studied her face.

“You look sort of pale. Are you sure you’re okay? Did you eat too much again?”

“I did not!” but her face turned red this time, and Draco smirked.

“Come on, Chang. How much this time?”

“What are you talking about?” she asked haughtily, but Draco wasn’t fooled.

“Spill it,” he ordered, staring her down.

“…Seventeen dishes,” she responded meekly. Draco snorted.

“Once again, your skills astound me. But then you shouldn’t be up right now. Go home; I can take it from here,” he said.

“Whose fault do you think it is?” she shot back, stubbornly standing her ground.

“What do you mean, you silly goose?” he asked, staring at her with a raised eyebrow. Cho didn’t answer, but her blush grew more significant.

“…” Unlike Harry, Draco wasn’t nearly as thick or stupid.

“Chang, you’ve got to be joking,” he said flatly, regarding her with incredulous eyes.

“It’s all your fault, and now I’m embarrassed. Thanks a lot, you moron. I hope you live happily ever after!” she retorted hotly, pivoting around and starting to walk off quickly.

Easily, Draco caught up with her and grabbed her arm.

“You’re not serious?” he demanded, staring at her intensely.

“Of course not,” she replied, trying to grin. “I was just playing around, you know. Haha?”

“Don’t lie,” he shot back, and gently smoothed her hair back from her eyes. “Why are you crying then?”

“It’s raining,” she said stubbornly, even as a tear spilled over and trickled down the side of her face. Glancing up, all he saw was blue sky.

For the first time in a long time, Draco smiled. He leaned down and his lips brushed her forehead gently.

“Thank you, Chang,” he said in a low voice. “It sounds awfully cliché, but I won’t be forgetting you anytime soon. Your gastronomic abilities are truly one-of-a-kind.”

She snorted, wiping at her eyes. “Is that all you’ll remember about me?” she asked mournfully.

“Most definitely,” he said, his smile crooked. She sniffed and glared at him balefully.

“Well, fine then. Go home. See if I care. I hope they eat you alive!” she declared.

“Not if I stir-fry them first,” he replied wryly and releasing his hold on her shoulders. He grasped the newspaper again. “This is it, Chang.” Smirking, he shouldered his bag and bowed over-dramatically. Cho sniffled.

“No last words?” he asked, and she shook her head. “Alright then.” He shrugged and glanced at his watch.

There was a tug on his sleeve. He turned around, and Cho threw her arms around his neck, bringing his head low enough for her to kiss him full on the lips. It was awkward, and fast, and perfect. Before he could respond adequately though, she had pulled away and was pressing something into his palm.

“Leave then,” she whispered her head down and voice so low that he almost didn’t hear. “But I’ll be coming back for this,” she finished, suddenly giving him a little shove backwards. As if it had been planned, the portkey was activated at that moment, and Draco gave a little stumble as he was pulled across distance and dimensions. When his world righted itself again, he was in front of the Malfoy manor, his mind flustered and cheeks pink. In his hand, the little jade pendant was clutched so hard as to make a small red imprint.

===