Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.
Warnings: Slight slash.
Note: Non-magic AU. Written for The Wizarding World's Annual Hunger Games Competition (Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor) and Lithomancy (Write about someone dwelling or thinking deeply over an event from the past.)
WC: 1000.
Tasted Like Love
The summer sun beat down heavily on his form. He breathed a sigh of relief when a rush of cold air greeted him as he opened the door to the ice cream parlor, ignoring the way his heart fluttered about.
"Harry!" Ginny brightened up, waving him over. He swallowed, mouth suddenly dry, hands fidgeting as he drew closer. He collapsed into the seat, grimacing at the feeling of his shirt plastering itself to his chest. Brushing away his discomfort, Harry greeted his old friend.
"I got your favorite," she said, sliding the bowl forward. He faltered, fixed smile dropping slightly. Ginny noticed, of course she would. She was always attentive to him; the heart never completely gets over the first love after all. "Is something wrong?" she asked, a crease in her brow.
"No, it's nothing," Harry assured her, and to prove his point, he scooped up some and shoved it in his mouth. Strawberry. He winced as the cold hit his teeth but swallowed anyway.
"Oh, good," she murmured, tucking a strand of her red hair behind her ear. He followed the delicate action with his eyes, mentally chiding himself for staring and quickly looked down. A silence descended on them, filled only by the cheerful chatter of the other patrons, interjected every now and then by a shriek of childish laughter.
"So," Ginny exhaled, "how have you been?"
"Good, good," Harry nodded, shrugging a bit. "Just…swell."
"That's good."
Another silence.
"How are things between you and Seamus?" Harry asked suddenly, Ginny startling at the abruptness.
She perked up instantly, her whole demeanor just…happier. "We're great! Everything's great. It's all—."
"Great?" Harry cut off with a wry grin.
Ginny gave a sheepish nod, taking a quick glance at her phone. "He said he's on the way here."
Harry jerked in his chair, hand lax before scrambling to regain his composure as the spoon clattered on the table.
"That's fine with you, right?"
"Of course," he said with a tight smile, clearing his throat. "I'm going to get a new spoon."
"You can just call someone over—."
"No, no, it's fine. I'll get it myself," Harry assured her, standing up from his seat and wincing at the sharp screech the chair made as it scraped across the tiled floor. He all but fled from the table, passing by a group of rowdy teenagers.
"She definitely likes you!" one screeched, slapping the table between chortles. His friend, on the other hand, didn't look amused. He rolled his eyes, opening his mouth to reply.
"No, she doesn't," Harry said, scoffing in disbelief as he shrugged off Ron's arm. He slid into the booth, shooting Hermione a smile. Ron fell into his place beside her, ignoring the playful complaints as he kissed her soundly on the temple.
"Please, she can barely look at you!"
"Yes, and I can't stand the sight of Malfoy every morning, but that doesn't mean I fancy him, does it," Harry said plainly, giving him a blank stare.
"That's different," Ron insisted, pouting briefly before turning to coerce his girlfriend. "'Mione, please make him see sense! I've been trying for ages, but he's being a stubborn prat about it."
"Just leave him be, Ron," Hermione sighed, rolling her eyes when he pulled away from her and sulked. She turned a considering gaze to the boy across from her. "Although he does have a point, Harry. Ginny does seem to have developed a bit of a crush."
"Hah! See, I told you!" Ron immediately perked back up. "What makes it so hard to see that she likes you?"
"Oh look our orders are ready. I'll get them," Harry said, getting up before anyone could protest.
"And I'm back!" Harry announced, holding the bowls of ice cream like spoils of war amidst the loud cheers of his friends. "A sundae for the two lovebirds, mint chocolate chip for Dean, cookies and creme for Seamus, vanilla for Neville, earl grey for Luna, and strawberry for the only ones with any sense in this group at all," Harry said after passing out the frozen treats, sliding the shy pink scoop of ice cream in the tiny cup to Ginny.
"I guess we have the same taste," she said with a smile. Harry hummed in agreement around his spoon. He was glad that she finally got over that small crush; the two actually grew quite close after she managed to control her panicked blushing whenever he was in the same room. Happy, boisterous laughter from his left had Harry turning, fond smile on his face as he watched Seamus begging Dean to mesh their ice cream scoops together into one big pile.
"Why didn't you get a bloody sundae then?" Dean grouched, swatting away the persistent hand.
"I didn't want it then," he whined, still making grabby motions, and in a violent surge of strength pushed forward only to have the cups smacking against the table and dousing them with ice cream. Harry laughed alongside the rest of his friends while Hermione lectured them on making a mess.
"I'll get wipes," Harry said with an exasperated sigh.
"You always make such a mess," he said with an accusing tone but his eyes were soft with amusement. Seamus scratched the back of his neck with a sheepish smile, placing the napkins over the melting blobs of ice cream on the table.
"Here, have mine," Harry offered, sliding the cup over. Seamus opened his mouth expectantly, and he huffed but complied nonetheless. The day dragged on in its typical summer fashion, their skin clammy, and mouths sticky with syrup and stolen kisses tasting of strawberries. And when Harry looked at Seamus, lips a blushing pink, he thought this might be love.
Harry walked back to the table, stopping right in his tracks at the couple currently huddled close together. Ginny spooned some strawberry ice cream into his mouth, the scene entirely too domestic and sickeningly sweet for him. He turned tail and walked out the door.
