A/N: The idea for this story came from a weird source: an oreo cookie. I was eating one when I was REALLY bored and suddenly this idea came to me. It’s short, it’s sweet, it may end up longer if my little Tom Felton phase continues, but probably not. Enjoy!

Emma took the dish rag from her belt and swept some crumbs off the countertop. She brushed a stray piece of raven hair behind her ear and turned as the bell above the door jingled.

Stepping off the cold and very dead London street, a very tall blonde haired, blue eyed guy stomped his feet on the welcome sign and began to undo the buttons on his very wooly trench coat, making his way to the counter.

Emma held in a breath, her eyes darting from the guy to the rest of the shop to check other peoples’ reactions to this stranger. There were no other people in the Cookies ‘N Cream Café that afternoon, it was far too chilly for many to venture outside. The sky was overcast and the weatherman had sincerely promised a blizzard, much to everyone’s dismay. Emma was about ready to close the shop, but it seemed she’d have one more customer. She didn’t mind, however, because this was not just any customer.

Frantically running into the kitchen, Emma grabbed the other waitress’ arm and pulled her to the window where all the food was set from the cooks. Twenty-six year old Eva pulled her arm from the younger girl’s harsh grasp.

“EMMA, what has gotten into you? Have you seen a ghost?” Eva clucked disapprovingly at Emma’s odd behavior. “You mind closing up, darling? I just called home to see how Chloe was doing, she’s driving her babysitting completely bonkers with the constant heaving. I have to get home to her.”

Emma gasped, “You cannot leave right now, Ev! Draco Malfoy is out there! OUT THERE!” She hissed in as low a whisper she could muster, being so excited and nervous.

Eva put a hand to Emma’s forehead and pulled it back, looking quizzical, “Emma. Draco Malfoy is a literary character. He can’t possibly be out there.”

Eighteen year old Emma shook her head at the older girl, but all Eva did was untie her apron and set it aside.

“I have to go, love. When he’s gone, please get some rest. You could use it. Otherwise, they’ll mistake you for being mad and take you to the loony bin tomorrow morning.” Eva smiled a bit before slipping out the back door.

Emma watched her go with much chagrin plastered on her face. Shaking her head in dismay, she fiddled with her hair, making sure it looked just right, before she went out to greet the fidgeting customer.

“Hullo,” he greeted her cheerfully, setting the menu down in front of him. He was sitting comfortably on one of the plush counter seats, his jacket lain on the seat beside him. He wore a gray turtleneck sweatshirt and lose-fitted faded jeans with his black combat boots.

“Hi,” she replied timidly, her fingers tangling in her hair as she desperately tried to make sure it looked okay. “What can I get you?”

“I’ll have a glass of milk and some oreos, please.” He smiled at her, setting the menu back where he’d found it.

Emma nodded, “Coming right up.” As she bustled around the kitchen, she searched her mind for any possible conversation she could come up with. She couldn’t think of one non-idiotic thing to say to him. Draco Malfoy, heir of Slytherin, son of a Death Eater, follower of Voldemort.

What the hell did he want Oreo cookies for?

Emma, head cocked to the side, brought him a plate of Oreos and a large glass of milk. She set them in front of him, smiling secretly.

“Thanks,” he said, taking a cookie and dipping it into the milk. “With the blizzard coming, all the groceries are closed…I couldn’t find any place for Oreos for miles. Thank God you were still open.”

“We’re closing in a bit,” she replied lamely.

He smiled, something that made her heart flutter just a little, and took a bite of the cookie. “I’m utterly obsessed with Oreos. I die for them.”

Emma giggle, “I see. Well…that’s good, I suppose. Oreos are the best of the cookie world, in my opinion. And that’s saying something since I work in a cookie café…where we have every possible cookie under the sun.” She coughed awkwardly when he smiled at her kindly, “I’m Emma, by the way. Emma Trent.”

He ran his hands along his thigh in an attempt to clean it of crumbs and took her hand briefly, “I’m Tom Felton. Nice to meet you.”

Emma bit her bottom lip. Tom Felton. Is that some sort of cover-up name? She leaned against the counter opposite him, looking at him contently. He didn’t seem bothered by this, but continued to dip his cookies and eat them whole.

“Are you from London, Tom?”

“Hmmm, yes,” he replied simply, not looking at her.

Her brown eyes watched as his hair fell into his face when he bent forward to shove another cookie into his mouth. “I’m sorry if this is forward, but, you don’t look like a Tom.”

She emphasized the ‘Tom’ to show him that he didn’t have to hide his identity.

“I don’t really know what a Tom looks like,” he answered sincerely. “Is there any particular way we should look? I knew a lad called Tom once, he had dark black hair and green eyes…I don’t suppose he looked more like a Tom than I do?”

Emma considered this, “Well, no. I’m not sure what a Tom looks like either. I just know that you look more like a Draco.”

Tom looked up suddenly, “Oh?” His lips curled into a very slight and surprised smile. “I’ve been told that, believe it or not.”

“Oh I believe it,” she replied, nodding, “I think you should legally change your name to Draco.”

Tom tipped his head back and laughed, “Yes, perhaps you’re right. May I ask how old you are?”

“Eighteen,” she replied easily.

“Me too,” said Tom, grinning and dipping yet another cookie into the milk. She loved watching the cookie plunge the cold milk’s surface and stay there for a few moments until Tom pulled it back out and stuff it, dripping white liquid, into his awaiting mouth. He finished chewing, “So you’ve seen the films I take it.”

“What films?” Emma questioned seriously, crossing her arms across her chest.

“Harry Potter,” replied Tom slowly, suddenly wondering if she was quite mad, or maybe just playing stupid.

“Oh. Yes, I have---” Suddenly, just like that, it dawned on her. Oh God, how could she be so stupid. Why did she think he was DRACO when he so obviously was the bloke who PLAYED Draco in the movies? “---Oh!” She said, surprising herself with the volume of his voice. He jumped slightly, but his smile remained intact. He seemed thoroughly amused by her. “You’re Tom Felton---”

He nodded, eyebrow raised.

“---You play Draco in the movies.” She hit herself in the head very gently, “I’m sorry. I momentarily lost my bloody mind.”

“It’s okay,” he laughed, “It happens. Although, I must say, it hasn’t happened to me until now.”

Emma chuckled, “I should feel…special, maybe? Or just mad, perhaps?”

“Neither,” replied Tom seriously, “It’s quite alright. I find it highly amusing.”

She nodded, “Well, you’re a very lovely actor.”

“Thanks,” he replied, honestly very flattered, “I appreciate that. You’re a lovely waitress.”

Emma blushed slightly, “Well…yes…I try.” She paused for a moment and he ate another cookie. He’d devoured half the plate by now: six cookies. “I honestly thought you were Draco for a moment. Sometimes I wonder where my mind goes. You see, I’m such a fan of Draco…he’s so very charming and attractive and interesting…”

“I guess I could be flattered by that,” grinned Tom cheekily.

“Yes, I should hope so,” Emma laughed and blushed again.

Tom threw another cookie into his mouth and swigged down a little of the milk. “Bloody awful out there,” he jabbed a thumb behind him, indicating the outside. “That blizzard’s going to be ruddy dreadful.”

Emma nodded, “Oh, I know. I’m actually afraid if I don’t leave soon, I won’t be able to at all.” She glanced out the large picture window, the snow had started to fall softly from the sky. It was beautiful and serene, and held promise of harshness to come if you looked hard enough at the rapidly darkening sky above.

Tom stood up, crunching a cookie, “By all means, don’t let me keep you.”

“Oh, well I was enjoying myself,” she answered, smiling at him and motioning for him to sit.

“I am as well, but I’d hate it if you were stuck here all night on account of me. Can I take the cookies to go?”

“Sure,” she replied happily. She began untying her apron.

“I’ll walk you out if you’d like.”

Emma smiled at him in response and began clearing up as Tom stuffed the remainder of his cookies in his pockets.

A few moments later the two of them were standing on the vacant street, looking at each other inside their huge jackets. Snow fell peacefully all around them, landing on their hair specifically.

“Well, thanks for the cookies,” Tom said, grinning very largely. “It was wonderful to meet you.”

“You too,” Emma replied sincerely. “I hope to see you again.”

“I’m sure you will,” he said quietly, leaning nearer to her. Before she realized what was happening, his lips were on hers softly and gently. Then, just as suddenly, he had pulled back, a very huge smile on his face. “Nice meeting you, Emma. I hope you get home safely.”

She managed to croak out a thank you before he started walking off, his boots crunching the already fallen snow on the ground. She put a finger to her lip, he had tasted just like cookies and cream, it was almost too perfect. Licking her lips, she shoved her hands in her pockets and began to walk towards her flat down the road.

Her right hand grasped something hard in her pocket and pulled it out to examine it. Somehow Tom had slipped an Oreo in there for her when she’d been…detained.

Emma smiled to herself and took a bite out of the Oreos. It reminded her so much of him that she yearned to turn around and run after him.

As she reached her flat, the last of the Oreo was gone. She wiped her gloves off, stray crumbs falling to the floor in front of her door.

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