𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄-𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐒

a real sweet-heart (g.w)

A new shop opens along the cobblestone streets of Diagon Alley. What happens when the talented owner of the shop is just as sweet as her beloved pastries?

Warnings: mentions of food

Word Count: 3.7 k

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It was another sunny morning on the streets of Diagon Alley. The last few weeks of June had not failed to establish the warm, summer weather most had been longing for. Hogwarts students were itching to finish school for the summer holidays, and shop-owners along the cobblestone trail began to prepare for booming business in the upcoming weeks.

Your fingers worked to sort through the till as you admired the shop that was finally yours. The early rays beamed through the open drapes as sparkling dust collected on the panes of every window, where the vacant street of Diagon Alley was found. There sat your usual round of customers, who you had grown to adore to no end.

First, there was Joice, a polite old woman who visited with her granddaughter, Lucy. They were the first to arrive every morning, ordering their usual round of chocolate chip biscuits and tea. The young girl - who had proven to become one of your favourites -was turning 7 in a month's time, and was excited for the red-velvet cupcakes that you would be preparing for the special day.

Then, there was Chester - a plump, chatty man who owned the cobbler shop down the street. He arrived on the dot at 9:30 every morning for a slice of your famous blueberry pie, never forgetting to complement its taste and the beautiful summer weather beaming through the glass. His wife had passed during the wizarding war and he vowed that blueberries were her favourite. He was known to leave an extra tip before setting off for the day, along with a friendly wave to you and the elderly woman he had become good friends with.

And lastly, there was Lola, a newly promoted writer for the Daily Prophet. She often strolled in a little past 10:00, a notebook in hand as she requested a different muffin each day. Today, her pick was carrot, smiling sweetly as she made her way to the usual booth by the bay window. She was much friendlier than the old gossip, Rita Skeeter, and was even kind enough to write an article about your beloved pastries.

You couldn't ask for anything better - a smile gracing your lips as you worked to intertwine a long strip of salted dough for your next batch of soft pretzels. So, you sighed happily as you worked to prepare for your next regular, giddy for the Hogwarts students that were sure to arrive any day now.

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The sun was slowly dipping beneath the horizon as the sky was painted pink by the end of the day. The humid weather brought longer afternoons, and you were glad to bid goodbye to your final customer while the sun was still out.

Although, some may have considered your routine a little boring, it was nice having some sort of consistency in your life. Same customers, same orders, same lock-up time; it all reassured you that life was on the right track - that you were headed in the right direction. With such a successful small business, there really wasn't much else to ask for. But as you watched your only employee leave with a fresh batch of doughnuts for his boyfriend back home, you wondered if maybe your perfectly planned lifestyle was missing something that you never knew you needed.

Turning to hang your apron on its designated rack and ensuring all oven-tops had been turned off, you set off to the front entrance with a pair of muggle keys in hand. Even in the Wizarding World, you picked up on old family habits.

Yet, as you began to close the silk drapes by each window, the sound of a bell chimed in the doorway where a tall, lanky man was found.

"Hello," the ginger smiled, dusting off his shoes on the front mat before making his way up to the till. He was clad in vibrant magenta, a colour that clashed magically with his fiery hair. It was striped in its usual unique pattern along with a deep purple waistcoat, both lacking sleeves and exposing his pale, muscular arms. You couldn't help but notice the prominent freckles that danced across his skin, as well as the loose tie draped around his neck. You clearly weren't the only one soaking up the lovely weather.