Whey brand new story ^_^ something i randomly came up with whilst bored of coursework. I hope you all like it! Rate & Review it makes me a very happy girl!



If there was one thing that Harry Potter could be certain of, it was the fact that Muggle coffee tasted miles better than that made by wizard coffee shops. The faint taste of magic always left that awkward after taste in his mouth, a mixture of something like sawdust and oak, as if a slug had used his mouth as a warm-up track. Harry was sometimes sure he was the only one who noticed it but it nonetheless made him hesitant of tasting anything brewed with the aid of magic.

He loved the aromatic smell of freshly ground coffee, the sounds of the Muggle coffee machines, the way you instantly felt at home when you got a whiff of that just brewed coffee. As a young boy he had never liked the stuff. It was too bitter and too strong for his young and delightfully sweet taste buds. But as he progressed through life and his taste in things developed (and his sudden need for as much caffeine as possible on a Monday morning) he felt compelled to have at least one a day. He wasn't picky as to which coffee he liked either. On a nice summer afternoon he liked to enjoy a refreshing iced mocha. In autumn he enjoyed cappuccinos with an extra espresso shot. But the favourite pass-time of Harry's in the many coffee shops he frequented happened in the winter months when he would settle into a routine of "let's try the most random coffee on the list". This game included Harry would transition into the warmth and glow of the coffee shop after braving the harsh English winter and pick a coffee with the oddest added extras he could find on the list. This varied from coffee shop to coffee shop. Some of his favourites included Cinnamon and Vanilla , Almond and Chai Spices as well as the not so successful like Walnut and Orange or Peanut butter and Rum (the latter probably not being a good choice before a working day).

It was these mini experiments that led him to the cosy coffee place that led to be his favourite. No other coffee shop he encountered offered him such selection. From the ordinary to the downright strange. In fact that described the coffee shop in itself. In the most fashionable part of Muggle London there was a road known as "the road of a thousand dreams". The nickname was given by a local university known for its trend setters. It contained numerous galleries, boutiques, antique shops and one tiny and rather lavishly decorated coffee shop. "The Scene Beane" was decorated with a mixture of circus and vaudeville flair, French antique knickknacks and crockery that did not match but nonetheless complimented each other perfectly. It continually amazed Harry that this place was run by Muggles but thanked its avantgardeness for his ability to wear his work robes and still fit in amongst the trend setters of student London.

Well as much as Harry could fit in, a 30 something year old man in flowing robes amongst the 20 something trend setters in their bright and rather strange attire. But whether he fit in or not Harry made a point to frequent the little shop at least twice a week on his way to work. He knew it would be easier to Apparate or to Floo over to work but when it was such a short journey why waste the Floo powder which he would then stink of it for days to come when he could enjoy living in London each morning by taking the short walk through both the Muggle and wizarding streets.

Another thing that Harry Potter was sure of it was his love of routine. But could someone who loves routine become bored with the routine they've gotten themselves into? As a boy he got into a steady if not unpleasant routine with the Dursley's. This was then replaced with the stable, comfortable and warm routine of Hogwarts. This, Harry decided, has been and always be his favourite time of his life. Even with the imminence of You-Know-Who he maintained a normal life with morning breakfasts in the great hall, classes and quiet time with his friends in the common room. In those times Harry found it easy to be himself, not the Boy Who Lived, but just plain old Harry Potter trying to find a girlfriend whilst warding off bullying Malfoy's and detention with Snape. But now Harry found himself in an altogether different routine.

In the years after the war Harry had trained and worked as a well renowned Auror and he was good at it, he defeated the biggest threat to the wizarding world in his lifetime hadn't he? He loved his job and everything seemed good in his life. That was until Ginny became pregnant. Ginny at this time was working with the Ministry in Dark Arts reversal and was considered one of the best in the world. So therefore the Potter-Weasleys had a dilemma. One of them would have to give up time at their job and spend more time at home with little James and Harry, being the man, had his decision made for him and now 11 years later Harry maintained a mediocre office job in the ministry offices whilst occasionally doing some field work training to young trainees whilst Ginny was off travelling the world giving lectures and carrying out secret trips for the ministry living out her dream job.

Ask Harry and he would never complain, he loved his son. He had the wits of the Potter and the humour of a Weasley. He over-saw his education, coached his local Qudditch team, made him lunch and taught him to fly. Being a father was one of the happiest things Harry could ever imagine. He remembered how it felt as a young man not knowing his own father and he was determined to be there for James all he could.

For 11 years his routine revolved around his little work and his family life but now he was beginning to feel the bitter sting of boredom. In the summer Harry and Ginny had waved off their son as well as their niece to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. They had been reluctant to let him go but remembering the joy they had felt in their many years spent there they smiled and watched as the train pulled out the station. James sent regular owls but the fact still remained that the spacious 4 bedroom house felt empty without his mess and his chatter and Harry sorely missed him being in the house.

Another problem with his current situation was his position with his wife. He loved Ginny, he had loved her since his childhood but her job kept her away from home most of the time. Death Eater rising in Paris, conference in Milan, Dark spells in America. Harry couldn't remember the last time he had a full conversation with his wife let alone done anything more intimate. He prided himself for being able to control his desires but he was only human and his libido wasn't non-existent.

In short, Harry Potter was not loving life.

It was these thoughts that led him to his favourite coffee shop where he preceded to sit in his favourite seat (the red heart shaped chair next to a low glass coffee table in the back corner of the shop) order his favourite drink (vanilla and caramel cappuccino) and watch the passing students go about their lives as he lamented on where he went wrong. He watched as the Muggle teen's chattered and laughed away. Next to him a girl and her boyfriend were having a fight on whether he cheated, across the room a geeky looking boy was stressing and tapping away at his computer at full speed whilst he sat there innocently sipping his coffee. He wished he could be a carefree student again instead of an adult completely at a loss for what to do with his life.

Xxxxxxxxxx

"Come on Ginny," Harry purred into the year of his wife as they lay in bed together. It was the first night since he could remember that they had actually spent a night in the same bed together. Ginny had a habit of coming home from god knows where in the early hours of the morning when Harry was still in bed or just staying in a hotel until the next morning. It was safe to say that Harry was missing the intimacy.

His wife stirred and made a groan of protest, "Harry its late and I have work tomorrow. Please just leave it" she muttered without even turning to look at the man she had married.

"Ginny, do you even know how long it's been since we've had sex!" He flared.

"Don't act like a horny teenager Harry, Leave me alone" She sighed still facing the opposite direction.

"How can you think this isn't a big deal Gin? I never see you, I never speak to you. I MISS YOU!" Harry had had enough he grabbed his pillow and stormed out the room full of a mix of rage and sexual tension.

"Harry you're being ridiculous!" She shouted as he left the room, now up and aware of her enraged husband. But he wasn't listening, he was too mad.

And so the boy who lived slept on the sofa for the first time since he married his childhood sweetheart and relieved himself the only way he could, with his own hand.

Little did he know this one event would completely change the next few months of his life.