apples and scented candles • h.potter ✓

• epilogue •

surprise!

•••

The steam rising from the bowl of soup encased his face in a warm envelop as Corben stared out of the window. Muggle pedestrians walked by, blissfully unaware of this place and the delicious foods it had to offer. A few potted plants stood on the window ledge and he reached out to touch one of the leaves for no reason at all.

"Your food is getting cold."

Corben jumped and looked at Harry, smiling. He had a tray in his hands upon which were two goblets and a bowl with some sort of colourful salad in it. Harry passed one of the goblets to Corben and kept the salad and the other bowl for himself. He used a fork and spoon to mix the salad, all the while Corben staring at him.

"What are thinking about?" Harry asked once he had finished mixing.

Corben blinked. He wasn't really thinking of anything. Well, he was thinking about how pretty Harry looked with his face half-concealed in shadows, but Harry didn't need to know that. So he shook his head. "Nothing." He moved his spoon over the soup, attempting to cool it down, and watched as the steady stream of steam was disrupted and swirled haphazardly in the air. He felt a small smile forming on his lips. "Do you remember this place? We first met here."

Harry's smile lit up Corben's insides. "Of course I remember." He looked around for a bit and pointed toward the corner of the bar. "We sat there."

Corben followed the direction. The table was empty, as was the rest of the bar. It was very early in the morning and he imagined the place would get crowded toward lunchtime. He had come here once during the initial days of his training, and unable to find an unoccupied table had chosen to sit next to a man who sat alone in the dark. The man, of course, had turned out to be Harry Potter.

"You were a tiny little thing back then," Harry said with a chuckle.

Corben's eyebrows deepened into a frown. "It was merely a year ago!"

"And you were so nervous and talkative."

"I'm not talkative!" he protested, a little loudly, then lowered his voice. "Well, I'm still nervous."

Harry's smile softened. He reached out and took his hand, leaning over the table. "What are you nervous about?"

"Everything." He shrugged. "This place. This job. The people."

"I can't vouch for the place and the job, but the people will look after you. Audra will. And I'm sure not everyone here is a close-minded prat."

"Still -"

"It's okay," Harry said reassuringly. "To be nervous. You have your phone; just ring me if you feel overwhelmed or anything."

Corben couldn't help his laughter. "What will you do, Harry? You cannot come here." He felt mean after the words left his mouth and cursed himself silently. Harry, however, didn't take it that way.

"I'll talk to you." He tilted his head to the side, pouting like the adorable bastard he was. "You do like talking to me, don't you?"

Corben laughed freely this time. "I do, Harry. I love talking to you."

Harry pulled his hand toward himself and kissed his knuckles. "Now eat your soup."

Corben obeyed.

Now that they were silent again, his mind pummeled back to his initial thoughts. The bubble of happiness he had felt burst all of a sudden. He lowered his face and tried to concentrate on the soup, munching on the pieces of shrimp and vegetables. The soup wasn't in the routine his dietician had crafted for him but Harry had insisted it was okay to break the rules once or twice. Besides, the soup was healthy.