A bell tinkle gently as Tuuri and Reynir stepped in out of the cold. An explosion of pink met their eyes.
“Well,” Tuuri said, “It’s very… pink.”
She had meant to say cozy, but the more prominent word just slipped out. She smiled at Reynir, whose teeth were chattering. “Shall we go find a table?”
He nodded, looking around. “If we can find one that isn’t—“
“Currently occupied by some kissing couple?” Tuuri said ruefully. She couldn’t remember who had suggested Madam Puddifoot’s Tea Shop, and she was starting to get a sinking feeling that all this had been her idea.
Suddenly, a stout woman with a shiny black bun perched neatly on the top of her head appeared between tables. “What can I get you, m’dears?” she panted, squeezing between tables.
“Ah—a table for two, please,” Tuuri asked.
“Sure thing,” she said, and led them through a maze of tables to the very back of the room. When they were seated, she beamed down at them and said, “You can call me Madam Puddifoot, now how’s about I get you some nice tea to start off? I pride myself on knowing what sort people like.” She winked benevolently at both of them. From what Tuuri could see of Reynir’s face, it had surpassed the pink of the frilly decorations and was now a deep red.
Within seconds, Madam Puddifoot had vanished and reappeared with a tray of tea and pastries. She placed these in front of Tuuri and Reynir, grinning widely the whole time. Then she squeezed herself between two tables and was gone.
Tuuri and Reynir stared at each other. It was, Tuuri thought sadly, terribly awkward.
In order to stop staring, Reynir tried one of the cookies in front of him. His eyes bulged.
“What? What is it?” Tuuri asked, grabbing his arm.
“Mhfh—sweet!” Reynir choked. “It’s like she filled that thing with sugar!”
Tuuri giggled. And then she burst into a laugh, a sweet, breathy laugh that was better than cookies.
Reynir laughed too, his hand slipping down to rest in hers. Then he stopped, looking troubled. “Do you feel like we’re being watched?”
Tuuri started to answer in the negative, but as soon as she looked past Reynir, she saw a pair of silvery, feline eyes…
No. It couldn’t be. “Lalli?” she gasped. “What are you doing here?”
Lalli’s mouth moved like he was chewing. As a matter of fact, he was. There was a towering stack of overly sweet cookies on the table in front of him, and he had the contented air of some on who is halfway done with a delicious dinner. Beyond the cookies, gold hair glimmered.
“Hello,” Emil whispered, looking truly mortified.
“Oh, hi,” Reynir said, completely oblivious.
Lalli munched on his cookies. Tuuri gaped at him. “Do you know you’re in… that you’re in… that you’re in the number one spot for kissing couples in Hogsmeade?” Tuuri finished the sentence with an air of fierce determination.
“Yes,” Emil choked. He looked like he was trying to swallow one of Professor Sigrun’s imps.
Lalli gave them a piercing stare. “What are you doing here?”
Tuuri’s mouth moved silently. Lalli’s gaze swept around to Emil. “Are they on a date?”
Reynir glanced at Tuuri. “Should we… go?”
“Yes,” she gasped, and fled.
“I think… I think they are!” she heard Emil exclaim behind her.
It was only later, in the warm glow of the fire in the Three Broomsticks, that Tuuri thought to wonder what Lalli and Emil had been doing there in the first place.
