for @drarrymicrofic prompt ground. listen, I went ground coffee, ground tea, loose-leaf tea, tea leaf reading, and here we are. 300ish words so not really micro but more micro than last week so we're winning!
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“Tall,” is Luna’s immediate conclusion. “Very tall. Looks like he’s fair, too.”
Harry coughs. “Sorry, he?”
Ginny snorts, hair falling into Luna’s face as she leans over to get a look.
“Definitely he,” Luna replies, brightly. “Oh, and look, I think it’s saying–” She picks up the mug, tilts it appraisingly this way and that. “Yes. It’s someone you work with.”
“Really?”
“Absolutely. See this, here?” She holds it up for Ginny, whose answering nod seems a little too enthusiastic. It’s all very strange, Harry thinks. This reading had been Ginny’s idea, but… since when did she believe in Divination? Even Hermione, four Firewhiskys in and giggling, had urged Harry to go for it. Was his love life really that tragic?
“Look at those leaves there,” says Ginny, poking at the rim. “That looks phallic, right?”
Luna nods sagely, her eyes very wide.
“So what does that mean, that he’s a bit of a prick?”
They've drawn a little crowd now; a dozen or so observers, most of them half-cut. Harry himself feels painfully sober.
“Right,” says Hermione, holding up her fingers, “so we’ve got: tall, blond, male, works with you, acts like a knob.”
“Ringing any bells?” Ginny asks him, eager.
Harry looks around the room, finding a sea of hopeful faces. Hermione smiles at him, encouraging. Could they mean, he wonders – could this really all be about…?
“Alright,” he says, slowly. “Alright, yeah. I’m not really into this tea leaf stuff – no offence, Luna – but you all seem pretty certain. And, well. I can’t say it’s never crossed my mind.”
Draped over Luna’s shoulders, Ginny grins. “Thank Merlin, Harry. We thought you’d never–”
“I mean, I wouldn’t say I work with Zacharias exactly – he really just does consulting for the department, and he’s not that tall, but–”
There’s a loud chorus of groans. “For fuck’s sake!” Ginny exclaims. Luna – Luna, really? – kicks him in the shin. Hermione’s got her head in her hands.
Harry leans forward, confused, considers the mushy contents of the abandoned mug. “What?”
