[Pureblood Parker AU inspired by this gifset.]

While the Emery family was not altogether very traditional, and far more openly accepting of muggle practices within the magical world, their accomplishments demanded a certain level of respect that maintained their social status despite their many non-conventional ways. Having started the first comprehensive program integrating muggle practices into healing for the sake of more holistic care as well as rehabilitation (an area that was previously almost entirely ignored), Parker had a secured place in a very specific niche of the healing industry. It was something that was ingrained into him from a young age, and nothing he ever questioned since it was a real interest of his.

A family legacy made up primarily of Ravenclaws, Parker had set himself apart as a Slytherin. This caused some family tension between him and cousins of his that also attended Hogwarts, but other than that he was able to fit himself in initially with few issues. It was difficult to maintain friendships as time went on, however, his more radical and fiery temperament ill-suited for many he’d grown somewhat close to in his house. Drama and harmful rumours were a given, and something he would eventually learn to navigate though with minimal collateral damage. Periods of major self-doubt plagued his middle years, wondering what had caused him to be sorted into Slytherin when he felt so apart from everyone else. Would things have been easier if he’d just been in Ravenclaw? Would he have made close friends? Would he not feel so absolutely isolated and alone?

Perhaps that was partially his fault though, never really having learned how to open himself up to others. Always expected to fulfill a certain role and never really consider himself as his own person with his own will. And so why not try to ruin everything that had been built up for him and see where that took him?

Well, it didn’t take him much further than the hospital and a round through his own family’s intensive rehabilitation program over the summer.

The next two years of Hogwarts up through university, Parker had to fit himself back into the mold given to him. Not that he minded since healing really was something he wanted to do - though the specific area he wasn’t so certain of. It wasn’t his choice though. He had high expectations placed upon him, and he was lucky to not be part of the archaic families that still married off their children. That’s always how it was - forced to consider how thankful he should be compared to the misfortunes of others, forced to believe the issues and insecurities he felt were invalid due to his family’s position. They were well off, they were successful, they were innovative. So he should have no complaints. He should be as outgoing and charming and attractive as all the other pureblood men he’d known in his life.

So why was he so miserable?

It obviously wasn’t just trying to balance his last year at school and entry training to being the Junior Medical Executive for his family’s branch. There was more. Obviously there was more.

He’d been spending more and more of his time wandering around Muggle London, knowing no one of importance would find him brooding there. Even for all the tolerance and inclusivity his family preached, they didn’t spend their time around Muggles. He enjoyed the atmosphere though - something about it was so private and made him feel like he was invisible for once. He disappeared in the crowds and they didn’t care who he was - just another semi-formally dressed business man. He sat on one of the street side tables in front of a small family-owned coffee shop, one that was always very busy at this time just as he liked it. His coffee mug already cooled to room temperature, he sat there for a few moments with his hands in his his face before looking up with a deeply dissatisfied sigh.

No one told her life was going to be this way; but then again, knowing her, not many things went her way. From the beginning of her life, she knew she was odd, at least compared to everyone else. She wasn't interested in running outside with people, she was more interested in imaginary friends who played with her in the woods, and the fairies she imagined as she picked out flowers before heading back home. She was born for a normal boring life, happy with the simplicity of Kent and the large greenness of it all. Her imagination for magic and her oddness soon made sense at the age of eleven as she found out that she was a witch. At first her parents had laughed it off; obviously Sherringford or Mycroft could have pranked them. But as they ignored it, more and more letters came with owls were around them. Finally, a visit from the Deputy Headmistress was enough for them to agree that this was definitely real.

Everything fit together; while Sherringford was in the police force and Mycroft was a chemist, she herself had gone to school to be a witch. It was marvelous. Hogwarts brought so much hope of her fitting in, and she enjoyed it. The moment the hat was on her head, she thought she would be in Hufflepuff, as the deputy headmistress had been. But rather, the sorting hat just yelled Slytherin and it made her feel odd. She wasn't ambitious, nor traditional. She wasn't power hungry, nor had any leadership qualities. It made her wonder who she was at a very young age. She sought comfort from her Gryffindor friends who seemed to love their own placement. And it was only once her classes began that things began to make sense. Potions was something that came natural to her; she loved DADA and found herself thinking differently than others to get it to make sense. She was called ambitious, and tended to reach her goals with a lot of effort. She got her school paid for by applying for scholarships, working part time, getting paid by others to do their homework. She didn't care; so long as she could afford books and to look somewhat presentable that's all she cared for.

Now it was their last year and she was debating what to do with her life. Her parents had given her an ultimatum: go to muggle university and they would help fund some of it, or if she stayed in the wizarding world she was on her own It was a hard pill to swallow: reality, but she was still debating her options. She had seven roommates, but so far it was worth it to live in London. She worked at a coffee shop, and she still found ways to pay her books, leaving the coffee tips to fund her rent. It was a hard life, but she'd never been happier. She wasn't sure if she could go back to Kent, and live under the thumb of her parents: but one thing that was sure, she was not sure about being complacent about life.

Slipping on the coffee shop uniform she tied her hair up in a high ponytail, and told herself things would be okay. No matter where she would end up, she would figure life out on her own. University might not be a possibility at least not the wizarding kind, but working her way up in an office was a possibility. Forcing a smile on her face she grabbed the tray and walked out, already rushing to help out the customers outside the coffee shop. Picking up empty cups and refilling their coffees she flowed from table to table with a gracefulness she never realized she could have. She was heading towards the last table when she saw that he wasn't having the best time. His body language screamed unsatisfied, still taking a deep breath she fake cheeriness and walked closer.

"Excuse me sir, would you like a new coffee?" she asked placing the tray against her hip waiting patiently.

Was it just something wrong with him then? Was he the only one in his position that was so dissatisfied with what he had and was given? Or was it just formality that other purebloods seemed to be content with their lives… their displeasures were something they weren’t supposed to address or acknowledge. Were there any steps Parker could take towards trying to talk to his parents and maybe figure out something that would help? There was no way in hell he could keep going the way he was - and as unhappy as he knew his parents were, he had to hope that they would at least try to listen to him when it came to his own comfort and pleasure in life.

He wanted time, maybe that was it. To really figure himself out. Maybe travel, or do research, or anything before just diving right back into rigorous school assignments and a prestigious training position for a job that had been all laid out for him once he graduated from university. He wanted to share himself with someone else without the looming pressure to marry and provide children. He hated the idea of a boring, domestic life where he hated his spouse and job. He didn’t want to become his father. He didn’t want to become the stereotype of ‘successful’ pureblood men. He wanted… well, he didn’t really know what he wanted. He just knew it wasn’t this.

So where was there to go from here? How did he even start planning to talk to his parents about possibly taking a gap year, about not being interested in an office career or a domestic life, about possibly not even being interested in getting a girlfriend? In all honestly, no matter what he decided on, anything past this point would only serve to disappoint his family. There was no winning.

"Excuse me sir, would you like a new coffee?"

Pulled out of his thoughts by the faux cheer coming from beside him, Parker looked up at an oddly familiar face, a fellow Slytherin… working in a Muggle coffee shop?

He looked back down to his almost full mug of lukewarm coffee and frowned. “If I could get a fresh one, that’d be great...” he looked up at her nametag, “Tess.”

As soon as she caught sight of the man's face she felt herself tense up. What was a person like him doing at a place like this? Was no place sacred anymore? Pureblood weren't supposed to be here; they weren't supposed to be anywhere that somehow she claimed as her own. She was possessive, that was a quality that she learned early on while in her school. Purebloods had been the biggest obstacle when being in her house; for one thing she had no clue she had ended up in the house known for traditionalism: pureblood. They all varied in opinions, that she knew, but their blessings of never wondering where the next meal would be, or where the next amount of money came frustrated her more than she cared to admit. Not to mention, that most of her clients for whom she did their homework, all came from the same blood status.

She knew wasn't born with the proper breeding; it didn't matter how graceful she was, or polite, or did the right mannerism because at the end of the day, once she said her last name, it was over. Holmes meant nothing but a girl born from a chip shop father and a mother that was a teacher. They had two semi-successful sons, each one doing better than the next. She was expected to do the best, and at seventeen she was a coffee shop girl. Her dreams were never too big: it was pointless to have big dreams with little hope. She'd rather have minor dreams, with some reality attached to them so it felt better once achieved.

The one thing she prided herself in was never having to serve a pureblood. She never lowered her head, let herself be bullied, or stepped on. She might not be the richest ,the smartest, nor the strongest, but she knew she was worth more than some of them. Because she could defend herself without a wand. But Parker Emery was different. For one thing he wasn't obnoxious and didn't throw his name around like the morning paper. He didn't demand things either; in fact she had only heard him talk a handful of times and usually that's when he got called on during class. She had seen him at parties, the ones she was never invited to because she wasn't cut from the same cloth; it didn't matter she never liked loud noises anyways. She took comfort in rushing off to her best friend's common room and being taught more about the culture she desperately wanted to be integrated in.

But no matter how much she loved the magical world, the muggle world was her haven. She was special. There she had a bigger chance of success; sure she didn't have money, but she had moxie. And she was ready to work as many shifts as possible. This was the only reason she was given the job at the coffee shop. It had been the oldest shop around and always had a big lunch rush, one that, on a good day, would give her enough to pay her rent. Especially if some posh bastard tipped her well enough. That's the only reason she'd gone to the man in the suit, that turned out to be her classmate. She felt a bit embarrassed being seen in a lowly job while he was in a suit. His tie probably cost more than all that she was wearing. Finding nerve, she smiled and nodded.

"Of course mister, lemme get that for you. Would you like anything else?" ignoring the fact he read her name from her name tag. Merlin was she that invisible at Hogwarts? Picking up his cup, she placed it on her tray and waited patiently.

A sudden hesitance struck Parker when they met eyes, and he immediately recognized it was because of her own discomfort. He was never any good at remembering names, but he had definitely seen her face around over their years at school. Muggleborn, a bit odd, but damn skilled in potions from what he recalled. Really though, who was he to judge her as being odd? That's just what other people said, and those same people had said similar (if not, worse) about him.

He could understand her hesitance though (well, at least as much as an empath could). Purebloods weren't supposed to spend their free time in muggle spaces. And even though he found it odd she was working here of all places, rather than some wizarding shop, she at least belonged here. He couldn't blame her for feeling more comfortable here - without the same kinds of judgements that came from magical society. After all, he was currently finding comfort in a similar kind of anonymity.

"Thank you. If I could get some cream for it too, that would be great," he smiled politely, and then couldn't help by let out a small chuckle. "And you don't have to call me mister. Makes me feel way too old. Too formal for classmates too," he said, dropping the hint that he did, in fact recognize her.

Tess was horribly embarrassed for multiple reasons. One, the fact that she was one of those overachievers that no one liked, in no way helped the fact that she was also poor. No matter how much she tried, poverty as they said "came off of her in waves". Her clothes were from second hand stores, being the only female, they wouldn't dare buy new outfits if they weren't going to be used again. This uniform had been thankfully given for her job, she could tell the old woman knew her situation. Despite the fact that grunge was somehow a thing for some people, she wasn't the type to follow it that well. But yet here she was, pouring coffee to one of the least offending students in her school. He wasn't cruel, over snide in his comments, in fact this was probably the most he'd ever spoken around her. Then again she wasn't that talkative either.

Still, pouring his coffee, she placed the now empty pot on her tray and nodded dumbly as he asked for cream. Of course fate would ask her to come back to the table. And as he commented about recognizing her, she felt something heavy in her stomach. Would he tell the others what she did? That she did something as lowly as serving. It probably wouldn't have been as bad if it was some sort of five star restaurant, but it was just a little tiny cafe in some hovel of an area, that was famous for it's coffee. Feeling her cheeks reddened at the thought, she ignored the last bit and merely said.

"I'll be right back with the cream for your coffee sir!" the chirp seemed false even in her own ears.

Rushing to the back she placed the empty cups into the sink as she grabbed the sugar, cream, and new put of tea that table three had asked for. As the freshly made scones were being placed for her table five, she felt something hot run down her back. Steaming hot. Her eyes watered as she felt the clumsy oaf of Thomas have his pot fall on her. This was her only uniform; and there she was, a few hours into her job as her uniform was a disaster. The old lady puttered on, giving her an early lunch so she could wash it next door at the laundrymat. She thanked her profusely and walked awkwardly towards the patrons in her regular clothes.

Going to each table, she placed their orders and apologized saying that she would be going to lunch and someone else would take their orders. She'd be losing a tip, that was the most heartbreaking thing of all. As she reached Parker's table, she simply put down the cream and smiled falsely.

"Sorry to bother you, but I'll be heading to lunch. If you need anything else, Clara will be taking over my tables. Ta'" unsure as to what else to say.

Unsure where she would go, considering she usually took her lunch at her work in one of the outer tables, she hesitated before going back to get her satchel and sitting down at her usual table away from patrons and opened her book. She hid behind it, hoping the world would just eat her up.