Author's note: I might finish the last of my ice cream today, after writing this… Thanks to starspangledpumpkin and brokenaurorabottles for help with ice cream flavours. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I'm not J.K. Rowling, you can tell because #transrights

Hogwarts: Assignment #10, Religious Education Task #9 Write about reaping the benefits or rewards of something

Dedication: Sophy

Warnings: NA

Sweet Victories

Harry did not like this, but with Hermione off at Hogwarts and Ron drowning in Auror training just as much as he was… well, it would have felt wrong to ask for help with a simple errand. And so there he was, at Diagon Alley on his day off, trying to pretend that he didn't exist so that perhaps he'd be left alone.

He was conscious of eyes on him. He was conscious of the whispers. He'd spent his entire life getting used to them, but they felt particularly irritating now—like a bug crawling under his skin that he just couldn't swat or itch at. Maybe that was because everyone had so much more to talk about lately—what with the Horcrux hunt, the war… the fact that he had smacked Rita Skeeter's Quick Quotes Quill out of the air and called her a pathetic excuse for a human and a journalist last time she'd come near him was also, well, newsworthy. Ginny had had a good laugh about it and Kingsley had been amused enough not to pull him out of Auror training, but it hadn't been Harry's best moment. Maybe this was why he was also being given quite a bit of space.

He'd just wanted to come by and find something nice for Mrs. Weasley's birthday. He was frustrated by how such a banal errand created such a fuss and stirred so much self-consciousness within him. He hated his frustration in turn, which didn't lead to the best headspace. During the Horcrux hunt, he'd spent little time wondering how life would be when it was over—it would have felt like jinxing the whole operation, since they were only alive by a thread. He should have expected this last blow to what little privacy and normalcy he'd had before. But he didn't like it. More than ever, he wanted to be left alone.

Then he heard his name.

"Harry! Harry, over here, my boy!"

When he looked up, he saw someone he had never expected to see again.

"Mr Fortescue?" he asked, stunned. The old man was standing at the front of his ice cream parlour, opening up the striped parasols that covered his patio.

"Harry, my boy!" Florean Fortescue laughed. He was wearing the same pale yellow button-down and pink trousers that he'd always worn. The shopkeeper wore his grey hair in a bun at the top of his head, and his facial hair was as immaculate as ever. His eyes sparkled and even if Harry wouldn't have recognized him, the name of his shop was embroidered in careful cursive on his apron.

"Mr Fortescue…" Harry said, drifting towards the shop instinctively. Florean laughed again, probably at the look of shock on Harry's face. Harry had always thought that an easy laugh must come easily to someone who invented and shared ice cream flavours for a living. He was so preoccupied with how familiar that laugh was and how fond of it he was that he was unprepared for the hug Florean Fortescue embraced him in. When he let Harry go, he patted his shoulder and grinned.

"Mr Fortescue, I thought…" Harry said.

"That I had been killed?" Florean asked. "Yes, my boy, so did I on some days! My late husband was a member of the original Order of the Phoenix back in the day, bless him. I was never a good enough dueler for it myself, but the Death Eaters scooped me up in case I had any information very early in the war."

"Mr Fortescue, I'm so sorry…" Harry said.

"Nonsense, my boy!" Florean said, patting Harry's shoulder again. "I'm back now, fit as a fiddle, and autumn's keeping itself warm so I can open up the shop again too! Yes, you must see it."

He pulled Harry into the shop—not that Harry would have minded. It looked almost exactly as Harry had remembered it, but Florean explained excitedly how he had taken the opportunity of a big reopening to renovate his shop. He had fit the floor with new aquamarine tiles and replaced his old and well-used blackboards.

Florean caught Harry's eye lingering on the flavours of the day, and he sat Harry down at the bar and made his way behind the counter.

"I spent the war imagining new flavours!" Florean explained. "Of course, not all of them worked out as planned once I was back in my kitchen and working with real ingredients, but I'm sure you'll like some of these…"

He passed Harry tiny spoonful after tiny spoonful of new ice cream flavours—chocolate Firewhiskey and orange, lavender Earl Grey latte, marshmallow chocolate chai, cookie dough caramel, cherry and peach with dark chocolate shavings, pistachio mint, blackberry goat cheese and lemon, orange and pineapple, quadruple chocolate fudge and coconut, blueberry white chocolate and shortbread, Cauldron Cake batter with extra sprinkles, pumpkin brownie and triple chocolate chip…

"Which one is your favourite?" the shopkeeper excitedly asked.

"Chocolate Firewhiskey and orange," Harry said. "I mean, they're all delicious of course, but it's definitely that one…"

"I thought it might be," Florean answered with a wink. "Care for a bowl?"

"If I could, I might bother you for my usual…" Harry said.

"A two scoop bowl—one scoop each of chocolate raspberry ripple and classic chocolate chip cookie dough," Florean finished. He winked. "I haven't forgotten."

Harry smiled. As the shopkeeper busied himself with preparing his order, he reached for his coin purse and fished out the cost of the bowl—one Galleon and 19 Knuts, which he was happy not to have forgotten.

Florean slid the ice cream bowl across the counter and Harry dropped the galleon and knuts on the counter.

"Ah, ah, ah," Florean said, pushing the coins away.

"Mr Fortescue, I insist…" Harry said.

"No, no, no, Harry," Florean said again. "I hate to bring attention to your exploits and fame in the peace of this shop, but I believe that the least I can do is provide you with a lifetime supply of free ice cream. I do, after all, owe you my life."

Harry hesitated.

"Think of this as an exchange, then," Florean said. "I will give you peace, if you will allow me to feed you like when you were just a student."

Harry smiled. This he could handle.

"You know, now that Voldemort's dead I might live a long time…" Harry said. "Are you sure you want to offer me a lifetime of ice cream?"

Florean Fortescue burst out laughing and Harry smiled as he popped the first spoonful in his mouth.