Chapter one! I remind you that this has nothing to do with OotP unless I have a change of heart [or plot]. Enjoy~!

Disclaimer: I don’t own these HP characters, not even Wayne Hopkins or Orla Quirke. I think I own the name Café Tombe de Cheval, but who knows? [shrug]

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“Hopkin! What did I tell you about the ginger?!” Draco Malfoy roared, shaking a container of liquid with floating bits of solid inside in Wayne Hopkin’s face.

“Er, cut, peel, put in sherry, place in fridge,” Wayne replied, immediately, gulping nervously.

“Does this smell like sherry to you?! Does it?! SMELL IT!” Draco snarled, shoving the open container under poor Wayne’s nose.

“N-no- no sir!”

“You put the ginger in gin! What kind of idiotic, moronic, stupid, utterly ridiculous blunder is that?! HOW could you mix up gin and sherry?! You’re fired!”

“Now now, Draco. Calm down. The customers can hear you,” Su Li shouted over her shoulder as she carried off two plates of food to a table of diners. “Your grilled chicken with light parmesan sauce, ma’am, and your filet mignon with our chef’s special peppercorn sauce, sir,” the girl winked at the elderly couple.

“Thank you, dear, ehm, is everything alright in the kitchen?” the woman asked Su.

“Oh, everything’s fine, ma’am. Our chef is inclined everyday at this time to a repeated, daily firing of one of the other cooks. Don’t worry; he always re-hires them.” Su Li skipped off back to the kitchen where Draco had now turned on Orla Quirke to yell at her too.

“What’sit now?” Su asked her fellow waiter. Castor turned amused eyes away from the scene.

“She apparently hasn’t peeled the potatoes yet,” he replied. Su rolled her eyes.

“And you can’t do anything but lounge around and snigger, can you?” she snapped, pushing back strands of her short black hair.

“Sweetheart, this is the highlight of my days. Would you deprive me of a few moment of my amusement?” Castor asked, spreading his hands out, palm up. Su Li rolled her eyes and jumped over the counter into the kitchen. The man sighed.

“Apparently so,” he muttered, before following his friend.

“Alright, Malfoy, get back to work, stop flaming on Orla! You know you gave her too much to do to start with,” Su Li reproached, shielding the poor girl from the raving madman.

“Li, this is none of your business. She’s gone and been stupid again, and I swear that if you keep hiring incompetents like her and that Hopkins, I’ll quit!” Draco growled. Su rolled her eyes and she pushed Orla back to her work.

“Malfoy, you forget your place, remember who you’re working for, and remember why. Orla and Wayne, as you know, are the only chefs that have actually worked here beyond the usual week that most others have worked. How they’ve been able to put up with you for these past three months, I have no idea, but if you even think about driving them out of this place without mine or Castor’s permission, you’ll have a lot more to deal with than just another newbie fry-cook, got it?” Su warned the taller man, hands on her hips and foot tapping menacingly.

“Of course, Li, and might I add you look ravishing today?” Draco replied smoothly, abruptly coming out of his fury to smile charmingly at her.

“Oh no, Malfoy. Don’t go there,” Castor said wryly, slinging Su Li away with an arm around her waist despite her squeal of protest. The chef threw his hands up in the air, turning away.

“Always Malfoy this or Malfoy that. I feel like a voice activated robot,” he grouched, annoyed.

“More like a ferret,” Su Li piped up from behind Castor.

“Shut up, you,” Draco muttered, pouring oil into a pan.

“Su, the Caesar’s ready for table four, and so’s the fettuccini,” Wayne called out, and the girl immediately scampered off.

“You really should control yourself,” Castor commented, handing Draco a bowl of crumpled feta cheese. The chef grunted and calmly shook the contents into the flat pan.

“This job is a stress reliever,” Draco told Castor, not taking his attention from his cooking. “Or would you rather I went about town ranting and raving like I do here?”

“That would no doubt be amusing, I’m sure,” Castor replied. Draco rolled his eyes, and carefully poured the contents of the pan into a plate, handing it off to the older man.

“Table six,” he said, before going off to check on Orla and Wayne. Hiding a grin, Castor swept out of the kitchen, avoiding Su as she hurtled past him, and set the plate down at table six. Just as he was about to return to the kitchen to get a pitcher of water, the bells on the door jingled, and someone came into the restaurant.

“Welcome to Café Tombe de Cheval, if you’ll have a seat there, please,” Castor said lightly, showing the woman to a small table next to the window. He quickly backtracked and grabbed a menu, handing the stiff paper to the customer.

“For today’s special, we have a lovely cream of-”

“I’ll have all of it.”

“Of course, ma’am all of-what?” Castor stopped mid-scribble of “all” and stared at the petite Asian lady glaring balefully straight ahead.

“Everything on the menu,” she replied, voice flat, and utterly serious. Castor opened his mouth then closed it. He worked his jaw, then coughed.

“Miss? Er. Everything?” he asked again, enunciating all four syllables of “everything”.

“Yes. I hope that’s not too much of a problem,” she replied in a monotone.

“…of course not, no. Ha. Well. Everything then,” Castor said, again reiterating “everything” with deliberate accents. For a moment, he was unsure of what else to do. He turned on his heels and started off for the kitchen, and then spun around.

“Everything, you say?”

“Yes, everything.”

“Ah.”

Walk…walk…walk…spin.

“Excuse me, is this…for one?”

“Yes.”

“Oh. I see. Of course.”

Walk walk walk…spin.

“You know, the roast course is rather large. Are you…?”

“I can manage.”

“Certainly.”

Walk walk walk….spin.

“Some of these courses are rather expensive, ma’am.”

Flash! Credit card.

“Oh. Yes, I understand. Everything…then…” Castor said faintly, and then entered the kitchen.

Draco was looking at him expectantly.

“New orders?”

“Yes, yes. Table two,” Castor said, scanning his eyes over the menu tacked up in the kitchen. The chefs waited.

“…well?” Su Li asked as she grabbed lemon slices to put in iced tea.

“Hm?”

“The order, you dolt.”

“Oh. Of course. Ah, table two. Everything on the menu.”

There was a thud as a potato slipped from Orla’s hands. Wayne choked on the sauce he tasted, and Su nearly tipped over the glass. Draco only stood there, arms crossed, feet planted firmly apart.

“…Everything, you say?” he repeated slowly.

“Yes,” Castor affirmed.

“Alright then, everything.” Draco’s brows furrowed as if slightly confused and turned back to the stove. He pivoted back to stare narrowly at Castor. “Everything?”

“Yes, yes,” Castor said again.

“Everything.” Draco said flatly, and Castor just nodded. “Oh. All right. Tell the customer that ah, today, we do not have the right materials to make the flambéed goose.”

“Right,” Castor said slowly, and left the kitchen.

Orla, Wayne, and Su Li stared at each other.

“I want to see what kind of customer this is,” Su said, and immediately dashed from the kitchen.

“Me too,” Orla muttered, and Wayne just followed, leaving Draco to shake his head and scowl. For a moment, there was silence in the kitchen, except for the usual sounds, and then Draco nearly dropped his whole store of parsley as a shriek suddenly sounded from the restaurant.

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Café Tombe de Cheval means Café of the Fallen Horse in French [at least, according to altavista.com…I learned a bit of French five years ago, but needless to say, my mind has retained nothing more than ‘bonjour’]

Su Li and Castor Warrington co-own the café, and I know Warrington is as of yet nameless, and evil, and sloth-like, but NO. I just say NO. yah. [my mental vision of him is described in Spinning Hogwarts].

Questions? Comments? Criticisms? Eh? I’m willing to hear all…just make sure my ego won’t be that crushed.