A/N: This is an AU. As such, I know that there are characters, according to canon, that should be dead are alive and vice-versa. Essentially, I wanted a story with most of the good characters still around when Harry was older and not having to deal with Voldemort. So, Sirius and Dumbledore are dead, Moody is dead, and outside of that, I don't know who else will be dead. It depends on if they decide to stick their heads in or not, and where the story takes me. Mostly, you won't see any of the canon characters after the first few chapters, with one exception. Just so you know. If you have any questions, leave it in the review or PM me or something.
A solitary bird shattered the early morning silence in the small loft above Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour. A calloused hand reached out from under the threadbare covers and flung about, smacking the end table and the clock placed on it. Sitting up and rubbing his emerald eyes, Harry Potter looked around the room, trying to discern what that noise could possibly be. As awareness slowly seeped into his system, he groaned and fell back on the bed.
Thinking that he was unusually thirsty and had a splitting headache, Harry jerkily opened the drawer in his table and grabbed a water bottle and a small vial. Silently, Harry thanked the Weasley twins for creating the water bottle. It had a semi-permanent Cooling Charm and an enchantment that ensured it never went empty. He raised the bottle to his fuzzy-feeling lips and drank the cool water. Grabbing the vial, he downed it with practiced ease and took another swig of the water to cover the taste.
Glancing at the clock, Harry realized he needed to get out of bed if he was to open at 10 o'clock. Grabbing his towel, he went to the bathroom.
As Harry stood in the piping hot shower, steam billowing around his face, he reminisced about how he acquired the loft and the business downstairs. About a month after the downfall of Voldemort, the Muggle authorities had found poor Florean Fortescue's body, lying in a ditch in Suffolk. Eventually, the Ministry of Magic got wind of it, and pulled out his last will. The shop was given to Florean's brother, a traveling musician. Not wanting to tie himself down, he offered Harry the business in gratitude for defeating the Dark Lord, also stating that, "Florean always had faith in you, even when very few others did".
Harry had been reluctant at first, but unfortunately, being the Boy-Who-Lived-And-Proceeded-To-Defeat-You-Know-Who did not really pay the bills. Sure, in the first few months, people were always inviting him to lunches and dinners and offering him a room. But most of the hubbub died down as Harry returned to Hogwarts for his seventh year to get his diploma. Harry was actually quite surprised that Florean's brother even considered him, but that was that. Now, eleven months after graduation, he had a steady job with good hours that allowed him a quiet life.
Yet after the battle was finished, Harry had started to itch for something exciting to happen. He had never thought he was an adrenaline junkie, but the more he led this boring life, the more he realized how his whole life had been fast-paced: being chased by Dudley and his gang, fighting Voldemort, getting into scuffles with Draco, and of course his crazy, seemingly yearly adventures. Unfortunately, his last year at Hogwarts had been almost idyllic, except the tumultuous breakup with Ginny which happened soon after he returned. He shook his head, attempting to get her off of his mind.
"I can't be with a girl who doesn't have boundaries." Ginny had decided Harry was being too noble and slow in their relationship and had a tryst with a Ravenclaw sixth year. Harry had been watching the Marauder's Map, thinking of Sirius, when he noticed the two in the Astronomy Tower, their two dots melding into one. Harry flipped and marched to the Tower to find the two in a quite compromising position, with both Ginny's and the Ravenclaw's pants around their ankles, with Ginny laying on top. He stormed off, realizing too late that Ginny didn't want a knight in shining armor like she proclaimed. Harry was even angrier at the fact that he had been keeping a close leash on his hormones, insuring that he wouldn't taint her honor. So much for that. Harry didn't converse with many women after the incident, with the exception being Hermione.
Harry stepped out of the shower and toweled himself off, reaching for his self-imposed uniform. Black slacks, a white button-up shirt and an apron that closely resembled Muggle tie-dye, except for the fact that all the colors swirled around aimlessly. He was quite proud of that charm, finding it in an old book on keeping house he read to prepare himself for owning his own business. Surprisingly, a lot of the good spells he found were, like this one, in the baby section.
Fully dressed, Harry wandered downstairs to the main area of the shop. He puttered around for a bit, checking this and that, making sure he was ready for the day. Hearing the bells from the local church ring 10 times, he moved forward and opened his shop for business, retreating to behind the ice cream display.
A few customers trickled in before a tidal wave of hungry patrons flooded in, hoping to cool off from the surprisingly warm April sun. Harry was doing good business today, selling quite a bit more than he expected. As the lunch rush ended, he went out and started to wipe down some of the sticky tables, noting to get the Impervious Charms recast. The bell jingled, and Harry looked up to a surprise, one he hadn't seen in nearly two years. Draco Malfoy slipped into the shop, looking rather despondent.
"Malfoy." Harry stated with a formality that betrayed his uncertainty of why his former classmate was in his shop.
"Potter." Draco replied with a practiced drawl. Yet as he finished the word, his face fell, eyes downcast. "I need to speak with you in private."
The last time Harry had seen Draco was after the final showdown with Voldemort, in which Draco had cast a curse, distracting Voldemort and allowing Harry to finish the bastard off. Draco paid dearly for his help, having been partially burned by Voldemort's retaliation. His once aristocratic features were marred by an ugly disfigurement of his right jawline and ear, and the loss of some of the hair on that side. No one had heard from the unsung hero since.
Harry knew they had a tumultuous history but decided to speak with him in spite of it. Draco had done him a brave service, one in which he was never accredited for. Harry had attempted, many a time to bring this important part of the battle to light, but no one seemed to believe him. "To the hells with the media!" He thought savagely to himself.
"Here, let's go to the backroom. There aren't many people coming in; I can spare five minutes or so."
Harry held open the door for Draco, and followed into the storeroom. It had shelves holding parfait cups and banana split boats, as well as cones and bowls. Harry conjured two wooden seats, thinking how comfortable Dumbledore's chairs had always looked. Harry decided to practice that skill, to help honor his memory, the way Dumbledore would have liked it.
"So, Malfoy, what did you want to talk about? You left in a hurry after Voldemort fell." Harry looked at Draco with a grim facade.
"I heard you had received ownership of this place, and decided I wanted to speak with you... about everything. I helped you because Voldemort had taken over my life, and I wanted to be in control of it. I was still resentful that you killed my father but I know he went in a way befitting of the Malfoy name." Harry had fenced with Malfoy, Senior and had defeated him. Harry personally thought that this was too noble a way to let Lucius off, but he held his tongue.
"Anyway, I know we had our differences before. I've been attending rehabilitation and seeing a psychiatrist, and it has helped me see where I went wrong and how my father affected my life. I know too much has happened to be friends, but I still wanted to apologize." Draco tentatively held out his hand in an almost submissive gesture, and Harry gripped it with conviction.