A small coffee shop on the less fashionable side of Holborn was known for its bohemian and eccentric cliental. The tourists and locals noted the odd dress, the quaint manners and slightly old fashioned englishm free of modern colloquialisms, casual swearing and slang usually peppering the conversations of the locals and native Londoners. For the normal, these odd individuals were thought to be members of a clique or society of gentlemen philantropists or the uniquely outlandish figures of the independently wealthy and those with trust funds with no need to conform to societies norms.
In fact, Moody's Coffee House was possibly the worst kept secret in the Magical World. Neville Longbottom came for elevenses whenever he was in the capital, never drinking coffee in its many varieties, but always a pot of earl grey accompanied by a plate of ginger biscuits. George Weasley normally came alone, but was occasionally joined by his wife and two children. He drank super large cups of extra milky coffee, ate several portions of the cakes and always laughed loudest and longest when talking of past school exploits with the proprietor. A prim and perfectly turned out professional woman and her darkly handsome boyfriend turned up at irregular intervals and the man in charge of the coffee shop would close early and take them to the italian restaurant down the street, to drink prosecco and chianti and to eat far too much, always feasting far into the night.
The place was soon popular enough for the young man to employ staff. The weird regulars did not frighten off passing trade and the coffee shop became a place to visit in its own right for those in the know. The beverages were always excellent, in fact all who worked their were baristas of the highest quality. The cakes, sandwiches and snacks were always available in wide variety and never sold out. Many wondered on the supplier but were always told the food was produced on the premises, home made and fresh. The place never seemed to be affected by other coffee chains opening up. The owner stated he did not need to make much money as he had a good pension from his previous job, having been invalided out of the Police straight after being passing training.
One far less regular visitor was a thin, horse faced woman. She was always warmly greeted by the dark haired owner. Tea was then served in bone china, not the usual eclectic mix of cups and mugs.
Petunia had not been to see Harry for almost a year. She and Vernon still lived in Surrey. She lived the life of a suburban house wife, a neighbourhood gossip, who had grown to be somewhat fond of her strange nephew. She even accepted his less than normal lifestyle. Harry never said anything but she knew Mitch and Cheryl were not just staff, but the truth that they were live in partners. Despite Harry's supposed hatred of commitment, he had settled into a menage a trois, to have a strange family of sorts. Petunia wondered about Cheryl, she could not be sure, but she would not be surprised if that rather tall woman had not been born a he. Petunia always walked from Waterloo across town, she did not like the tube and would never waste money on a taxi. She would sit for a chat, several cups of tea, two or more slices of the superb cheesecake and go home. Today she walked up the Strand from the Embankment, crossing Charing Cross and straight past the Leaky Cauldron.
She did not notice the woman with greying dull red hair, pale skin and thread bare old fashioned clothes, who watched the well dressed Petunia stride with purpose on her way across town.
The years had not been kind to the widow of Severus Snape. She had spent four years in prison. Her daughters adopted and lost to her, forsaking both her and their family name. She worked as a cleaner in Muggle London as no one in Magical Britain wanted anything to do with Lily Snape. She rented a room in Pimlico and existed hand to mouth. With the sale of the Potter Estate, she had lost her Dowager's income as the House of Potter was now deemed extinct. Her only son was revered for his great courage and sacrifice but none of his glory reflected on her. Her second husband was a traitor, a murderer and a terrorist. She, herself had been found guilty of fraud and child abuse. She had rejected, ignored and abused the Saviour of the Magical World, a hero that had suffered a fate worse than death, a grand sorcerer reduced to be completely devoid of magic. Lily had stopped even trying to get Severus' name cleared, to get visiting rights to her own daughter's or to even complain of the fact she had only received a sack of sickles from the sale of the Potter Estate. A sale with the fame of her son had raised millions, half given to charity and half banked in the muggle world.
She followed her sister in the hope of starting a conversation, reminiscing but mostly to talk to someone and not be reviled. Lily missed the Magical world and never felt at home as a muggle.
It was hard work to keep up with the thin and very fit Petunia Dursley. Lily finally caught up and spotted her sister sitting in a coffee house with a dark haired green eyed, well dressed young man. Her son, Harry was now in his late twenties and he looked happy and relaxed. It was like seeing James again. Lily stood transfixed. Unable to disturb the scene of her sister having a spot of tea with her nephew. Petunia had kept in contact with Harry and from the look of the pair, they were genuinely fond of each other.
Harry was clearing the couple of tables they had in front of the main window and then noted the woman on the street staking out his coffee shop. It was the third time this week he had noted his birth mother lose her courage and start to turn away. He made the mistake of making eye contact with the woman he thought he would never cross paths with again. Harry never ventured into the Magical World, he made a point of avoiding certain places in the capital. He had his ever faithful friends to keep him up to date on all the gossip and his house elf Maisie was always busy cooking and popping god knows where to get just the prefect groceries and ingredients. Blaise and his mother sent through coffee. The elf stayed despite the lack of a formal wizard bond, but the elf said Harry was her boy, magic or no magic. In fact, Harry was truly blessed at the moment. He was getting soft in his old agem but he could blame Mitch and Cheryl for getting him to mellow and chill. "Lily... Mother... Its been a long time. Tell me why you are haunting my home and frightening my customers away."
Mitch noted that Harry called the bag lady, Mother. The man had spent four years getting his Harry to open up about the nightmare that his life had been before his accident as a young cop. It had been a fight to get Harry to settle, to accept a relationship and the fact he deserved happiness. It was a strange set up. Cheryl was Ying to Mitch's Yang with Harry providing the glue holding this weird arrangement together. Most assumed it was a three in a bed relationship, not the separate but together way it really worked. Mitch went to warn Cheryl. That bitch who had given birth to Harry was not going to worm her way into their lives, not if he had anything to do with it. He'd even pay to keep the gold digger away.
"I don't want to intrude Harry. You seem happy... successful." Lily stood shifting nervously, wringing her hands together. Talking to the stranger that was her first born. Mind you, all her children were strangers now.
"You are hanging around. Get what ever is on your mind off your chest. Then move on. Stop hanging around like a bad smell. You make Mitch anxious. He burns the panini's if he's nervous." Harry had wanted to remain neutral and detached but there was a hard edge to his tone.
"I hoped to talk. To get to know you. I saw you with Petunia on Monday. You two seem close." Lily was hopeful that Harry would allow a relationship to develop. He had forgiven Petunia's harsh treatment of him after all and Severus was dead.
Harry's face hardened. "Aunt Petunia and I have some great common ground. We both hate you, Lils."
"I'm.. I'm sorry, Harry. I made so many mistakes." Lily stepped forward, wanting to touch, to connect with her past, her family, her son.
Harry closed his eyes, not wanting to listen to the crap this woman was trying to pull. "Shut up! Just stop right there. We are not friends. We are not going to be friends. You made damn sure you were never a mother to me by never being there for me from the age of one to seventeen and you were quite happy for that bastard you married to make every moment of my life for six years pure hell. You may have given birth to me, but thats it. Don't try and walk back into my life now. Just crawl back into what ever hole you live in and forget that I live and work here. In fact, I'm sure there's a restraining order in place. What was it, 250 yards? Start walking Mrs. Snape or its straight back to prison for you."
Lily looked crestfallen, on the verge of tears but her son turned and walked back into Moody's and straight to the phone. Lily turned and started walking back to her empty life. Hoping to disappear into the crowd. She could not face going back to prison. She would try and talk to Tuney. Maybe her sister would talk to her.
Petunia was far from friendly, but she did offer her sister a cup of tea and a piece of her mind. Telling her sister her folly of throwing her all in with that world and forgetting her roots. Lily was truly an outsider in the normal world, her knowledge of muggles frozen in time in the early nineteen seventies.
Despite her less than warm welcome from Tuney, Lily grew bolder and contacted one of her few friends from school, Remus Lupin. The werewolf wrote his former friend a long letter giving the background of the personal fallout after Harry's reduction to being a mere muggle. Sirius had been less than supportive and had no common ground with a magic less god son. The ex convict then saw that Harry had little in common with James Potter and the Lord of House Black had never been comfortable dealing with muggles. Bitter words had been spoken and it had been a break in a still tentative relationship that was never going to recover. Sirius still lived on Black Island. Remus, his wife and family were also happily settled there. Neither man had much contact with Harry, who sent the occasional letter to an Post Office Box but steadfastly refused any magical form of contact. The Postscript to the letter stated she was not welcome to visit and Remus thought her attempt at reconciliation was too little, too late and their former closeness was firmly in the past.
Harry spent the next week after his mother's visit on edge and for the first time took the offer to buy his business seriously. Maybe it was time to travel a bit, see the world, just enjoy himself. Mitch, Cheryl and Maisie were all supportive. It was as if the dream of a perfect bolt hole had been shattered. The place was getting too popular anyway. Harry's friends were uncomfortable with the jostling for tables and the constant queues. The place had got a name for tourists from both worlds and Harry hated the fame from his former life. A party was thrown, the coffee shop sold and Harry and his family started the next chapter of their lives.