Catch The Snitch

[Reserved for Sean Sheridan, but all are welcome!]
The moka pot behind Malachi gurgled and hissed for a few moments before quieting down, signalling that the coffee was ready. The young man waved his wand, and the magic began. First, a large footed mug levitated off the shelf, heating itself up before settling onto the countertop. The moka pot floated over as well, and waited until Mal added a spoonful of brown sugar to the mug before pouring in a splash of the rich, dark brew. After a quick stir to dissolve the sugar, he mixed in Irish whiskey and more coffee, before finishing off with a layer of whipped cream.

”Here you go,” Mal said, as he presented the Irish coffee to his customer. It was one of the signature drinks at The Curious Chimaera, and one of the few items that were throughout the day, regardless of whether the Chimaera was operating as a café or a bar.

Though Mal still considered himself first and foremost an information broker, he had come to appreciate the simple joys of being a barista and a bartender. On more than one occasion, he was tempted to wind down his shady business and focus his attention on running the Chimaera. But alas, he still had clients who were reliant on him for information, and likewise he needed them to advance his own agenda. Maybe he’d entertain the notion again a few years down the road.

A gentle tinkling of a bell above the Chimaera’s entrance indicated that a customer had just entered, and the sound snapped Mal out of his thoughts. Who could it be? he wondered, as he readied to greet the newcomer.

Sean was already up and was browsing around Quality Quidditch Supplies. This was his favorite shop in Diagon Alley and frequented it as often as he could. He admired their new broomsticks, wishing he had enough money for the new Nimbus. He ran his fingers down the wood of the broomstick to feel how smooth it was. He felt the brush and admired how bushy it was. Since he didn’t have enough money for the broom he decided to leave.

As he left the Quality Quidditch Supplies he let out a yawn and decided to get a coffee, and theres only one place to get the best coffee in Horizont Alley. Malachis. That man made the best coffee Sean ever tasted. He quickly made his way to the Cafe and went inside. “Oi, Mal. Can I have one of those Irish coffee dealies?” He asked as he walked up to the counter and saw Mal Standing there. He loved that Irish coffee. It reminded him of Ireland.

The proprietor of The Curious Chimaera looked up just in time to see a familiar face: Sean Sheridan, the flying instructor and Quidditch referee at Hogwarts, and an Irishman. Mal nodded his greeting and smiled, and began to warm up another footed mug even before Sean ordered his drink. He had caught a whiff of Irish coffee right as Sean entered – not from the mug that he had just served, but from his natural Legilimency that allowed him to vaguely sense the thoughts and emotions of those around him – and guessed that Sean had dropped by at the café with that beverage in mind.

His guess was proven right as Sean asked for “one of those Irish coffee dealies”, and he picked up the pace. “Coming right up,” he acknowledged, as he magically filled up the boiler of the moka pot with hot water, and the filter basket with a generous heap of ground coffee, before assembling the pot and setting it on the stove.

”Say, what brings you all the way here to London?” The moka pot began to gurgle, and soon after the aroma of another batch of freshly-brewed coffee permeated the interior of the café. Adding a spoonful of brown sugar into the mug, he continued, “Getting Quidditch supplies? Visiting a friend?” He worked quickly as he spoke: a bit of coffee, two ounces of Irish whiskey, a good stir to mix everything together, more coffee, and finally some whipped cream to top it all off. Setting down Sean’s drink before him with a flourish, Mal asked jokingly, “Or did you miss my Irish coffee that badly?”

Sean noticed that Malachi was already making his coffee as soon as he walked in the door. He loved how the talented wizard always knew what he wanted. He somewhat suspected that Malachi was a Legilimens, but he never asked. He figured it wasn’t his business to know. If Malachi wanted him to know he would tell him.

With a smile Sean watched Malachi make his coffee. Malachi asked him what brought him there, and he was about to answer him when Malachi joked about Sean missing the Irish Coffee. “Oh, you know me so well, Mal.” He said with a laugh. He did love the coffee, but it was just boredom that brought him to there. He figured window shopping would help. “You do have the best coffee I ever tasted. I’d come all the way from Bulgaria just for a cup.” He said jokingly with a laugh. Sean picked up the cup of coffee and took a sip from it. “This drink really does remind me of Ireland.” He said and took another sip.

Seeing a satisfied customer enjoying one of his creations never failed to fill Mal with a great sense of pride and joy. It was always a goal of his to make the lives of those around him better, be it benefiting society with his work as an information broker, or something as simple as making someone’s day with a beverage that they liked. “You flatter me,” he replied, graciously accepting Sean’s compliment. “But if you’re not exaggerating about flying all the way here from Bulgaria just for a cup of my coffee, tell you what: I’ll gladly meet you halfway. That would be…” His voice trailed off as he mentally worked out which country that would be. “Austria. I’ll meet you halfway at Vienna then. The coffee culture there is really quite special and unique.”

He had been to Vienna once, during a tumultuous period in his life where he was wandering from place to place, hoping his travels would take his mind off his troubles and help him find a new direction in life. He had fallen in love with coffee during his brief stay in the city, and aspired to open his own café one day. That dream was now a reality, but he had never once forgotten how he had started down on this path all those years ago.

On the other hand, Mal was completely unfamiliar with Ireland, having never set foot there before. But at the very least, even though he hadn't tasted authentic Irish coffee from the country itself, he had learnt how to make Irish coffee from a true blue Irishman. Evidently Mal’s efforts paid off, given how much Sean enjoyed his take on the drink. “Thank you,” he said as Sean mentioned how the coffee reminded him of his home country. “That really means a lot to me.”

“By the way, what’s Ireland like?” he asked with genuine curiosity. “I’ve never been there before, and I really ought to.” A couple of times Mal had considered visiting Ireland, but he had never found the time to do so. Maybe he should, one of these days, especially since Ireland wasn't too far away from London anyway.

Sean laughed when Malachi said he would meet him halfway from Bulgaria. “I never been to Vienna, but if you say the coffee there is unique then I’ll take your word for it.” He said with a snort of laughter. For a minute he wondered when Vienna was like, he’d only ever been in Ireland, Scotland, Britain, and Wales. He traveled all around England and Ireland when he was young, but never really left the United Kingdom. He’d have to remedy that some day. Seans face lit up when Malachi asked what Ireland was like. “Oh it’s full of rolling hills and green country lands.” He replied. “It’s kinda like Scotland.” He added. “When I was a kid I used to broom race around on the countryside with my family and friends.” Sean said remembering back to those hard days of war. “Of course we had to be careful because of the Death Eaters and all.” He said darkly.

As Mal listened to Sean’s description of Ireland, images of lush grasslands and hills came to his mind, reminiscent of the ‘backyard’ of their mobile home (as his parents called it) during his childhood. There would definitely be some differences, of course, and he was curious to see for himself what Ireland was like. Alas, the trip would have to wait for a bit, so for the moment he would need to content himself by placing it right at the top of his rather long backlog of things to do and places to visit.

Abruptly the conversation took an unexpected turn as Sean mentioned the Death Eaters that had plagued the British Isles during the Second Wizarding War. “Those dark days aren’t so easily forgotten,” Mal mused aloud, recalling how he had to deal with people from both sides of the conflict, a precarious balancing act that could easily have led to him being marked for death by both the Aurors and the Death Eaters. “Nor should they be,” he continued mirthlessly. “It’s only a matter of time before the scars fade and memories become hazy, and the mistakes of the past get repeated again.”