Chapter One: Bachelor-hood and Business Partners

At first, the idea of being a bachelor really suited Harry Potter. It was kind of fun, walking around his apartment in his boxer shorts and drinking out of the milk carton. No one to tell him what to do or how to behave. No one to tell him he had to save the world. But the concept had stopped being exciting and new and now Harry Potter was rather lonely.

And in pain too, because he had just stubbed his toe on the coffee table. You see, Harry Potter had forgotten to pay the electrical bill again. Harry was cursing and swearing and nursing his sore toe when he heard a loud knock at the door.

"I'll be right there!" He called to the person on the other side of the smooth panel of wood. He limped over to the door and opened it slowly.

"Mr. Harry Potter?" inquired an old deliveryman in a starched brown uniform. He held a large manila envelope and a clipboard in his left hand.

"Yes?" asked Harry.

"This is for you, sign here please."

Harry signed the dotted line and took the envelope. He thanked the deliveryman and shut the door. Harry walked over to the window (it was lighter over there) and opened the yellowish-pouch. Inside were a letter and a formal looking piece of paper. There was also a key. Harry pulled out the letter and read:

Dear Harry,

How is life treating you old boy? As you may or may not know, I have eloped. I'm currently in Florida (that's in America, in case they didn't teach you any Geography in that preppy boarding school of yours.) I need no mortal possessions, only the love of my life. Which means that you and another good friend of mine (a friend who knows quite a lot about running businesses) get to have my coffee shop. It's a bit run down, but all the machinery should be working fine. Although no one has been in it for years, so you may have a few rodent problems. No need to worry though! After you've tidied up a bit you'll get all the things you'll need in the mail. The deed is enclosed. Good luck Harry! I hope you get along well with your new business partner. You and him have much in common.

-Kolo M. Kapolkapec

There was a PS at the bottom giving the address of the coffee shop that Harry now co-owned.

Was this another isolation-induced fantasy? Harry knew that he didn't get out much, but really. This was a bit elaborate, even by his standards. Honestly. Harry found that all he could do was sputter and stair at the paper.

"Oh fuck, I've now regressed to full on hallucinations." Harry said to himself, seemingly out of no where.

Kolo was the old man who lived below Harry's apartment. Harry had tea with the man every day. He had thought that Kolo had died he was glad to find that he had only run away. Kolo was Harry first muggle friend and it hurt Harry when he disappeared. It made Harry all warm and tingly to know that Kolo was happy.

"I own a coffee shop? Wait a second! I don't know anything about business!" Okay, so assuming this isn't a fantasy…he really didn't know anything about business.

Harry was feeling a little panicky and he always talked to himself when he was scared. Harry re-read the letter.

"Wait a tick. 'You and another good friend of mine'? That means I don't have to run a business all by myself. Well that's a relief."

Harry was still talking to himself.

Harry memorized the address and placed the deed in a desk drawer where he knew it would be safe. Tomorrow he vowed to take at a look at his new coffee shop. He liked the sound of that. His new coffee shop. Harry's Coffee Shop. Nah, he needed a catchier name than that. But he could worry about

that later. The first thing he needed to do was get his electricity turned back on.

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Harry took the underground to Piccadilly Circus and then walked a few blocks to the address he had memorized and then written on his hand.

The building he stopped in front of had big windows covered with old newspapers and dark brown wood molding around the outside. The front door was painted a pretty French blue that had faded a little bit with time.

Harry pulled the key out of his pocket and slid it into the lock. Harry heard the pins shift and then a click when he turned the key. The first thing Harry thought when he opened the door was that the room smelled like old coffee beans. It was not an unpleasant smell.

The room was big, with the same dark mahogany molding and French blue walls. The floor was covered in blue and white tile. In the center of the right wall there was a large copper coffee roaster, collecting dust. There were a dozen or so smallish tables with the chairs put up. On the left side there was a wooden bar with five stools pushed up against it. On the other side of the bar's countertop there was a large wooden block serving a shelf for the huge cappuccino machine that rested on top. Next to the wooden block there was a door that Harry assumed lead to a storage area or maybe a kitchen.

Harry walked over to this door and saw that it was both a storage area and a kitchen. Inside it Harry found a mop and a bucket, which he filled with water. He also found a pile of rags and various cleaning products.

Harry took off his jacket and set to work.

Two hours later Harry Potter the Boy Who Lived, Repeated Savior of the Wizarding World was on his hands and knees bare foot and sweating, scrubbing the floor. His jeans were rolled up to his knees and he was staring fixedly at a stain on the floor that wasn't coming out fast enough. The door of the shop was open and the newspaper been taken off the windows. The windows, which had formally been grubby and clouded looking, were now clear and letting the warm spring sunlight filter in.

Harry was still scrubbing the floor and singing along to an old radio that he had found when someone entered the shop. The person coughed quietly and Harry paused in his rendition of "I Wanna Be Sedated" and looked up. Harry dropped his brush and stood up quickly, wiping his hands on his jeans to dry them.

"Please, please do not tell me that you are the business partner Kolo was writing me about." Begged Harry.

"Oh good God, bloody Fates and their sick twisted little minds. This is just ridiculous." Replied Draco Malfoy.

"Merde." Harry said, completely dumbfounded. Could he perhaps be hallucinating again?

"Couldn't have said it better myself." Draco said, his face showing several emotions at once and then…nothing.

During The War Harry and Draco had put aside their differences and had been almost companionable. Almost being the key word. Sure Draco had helped the effort, but that never really stopped him from being a bastard.

That was six years ago. Harry hadn't seen him sense then.

"Help me clean." Harry was good at taking control.

Harry handed Draco a rag and pointed to the half of the restaurant he hadn't gotten to clean yet. He expected Draco to refuse, or at least say something about it being "servant work" but all Draco did was take off his jacket and his shoes.

He looked around approvingly.

"Not bad Potter. This place should look nice when it's done."

David Bowie's "Changes" had just come on the radio. 'Changes indeed.' Harry thought in an amused sort of way.

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A/N

Someone said I lacked grammer. So just spaced this out and added a few things. I realized that if I wanted new readers then I should make this more reader friendly. Yay. Read and Review (and Greetings if you're a first time reader!)