Chapter Text
Molly Weasely undoubtedly made the best Treacle Tart in all of Britain. After all, those exact words could be heard after a particular Weasely family dinner and uttered over and over again by all of the guests.
Molly was no stranger to praise for her cooking.
“This pudding is bloody fantastic”--
“Frankly, I’ve never had better shepherd’s pie in my life”--
“Mrs. Weasely, your cauldron cakes are unmatched,”-- Are among her favorite phrases of approval, but the one that stuck with her above all the others was, “I don’t understand why you aren’t gracing the rest of the wizarding world with your gift for food Mrs. Weasely. Your recipes would make bestsellers.”
Admittedly, it was something Molly had pondered quite often. Money wasn’t as tight as it used to be, especially now that the war was over, but an extra source of revenue for the family wouldn’t hurt in the slightest. After months of careful consideration, and even an empty shop in Diagon Alley in need of a new occupant, she announced her idea. Needless to say, no one needed convincing.
Harry, the generous boy that he was, even gave her a loan (with the insistence that it would be a group effort) so she could make the down payment on the shop.
It was hers within 3 weeks.
Molly had never really been privy to business opportunities. In fact she considered them to be her husband’s forte rather than her own. But dammit, she had been cooking for her kids for ages and now it was time to cook for the world. Maybe it was wishful thinking, she had only cooked for her family and while immediate approval was prominent, she was nervous to witness the unknown verdict of the wizarding public.
Nudging from Arthur however, told her not to doubt herself. Cooking was her passion after all. It was evident in every bite of her rack of lamb or apple pie. Maybe it was time to bring her passion to the front burner for a change, and not just the gravy for the turkey dinner her sons raved about.
Thus, The Red Herring was born.
It was said that Molly’s blueberry scones were so good, they would make any witch or wizard forget their problems in a blissful haze of desire for more.
* * *
She needed help of course.
And with Harry and Ron’s Auror training beginning in a few months, and Hermione’s new position at The Ministry pending, Molly figured that the trio could assist her in the upcoming months. But not just the help of her son and his friends would suffice.
After all, The Red Herring needed to be promoted.
Hermione, that dear girl, had the grand idea of sending a flyer and sample of a single slice of banoffee pie to one doorstep in every major city in the UK. Word would get around. Hermione encouraged them to have faith in the rumor mill. It was a tad risky, but the shop needed renown, and as her family reassured her again and again, the costs they used to make the pies without revenue would be compensated as soon as the business took off. People just needed to try a slice of heaven courtesy Molly Weasley and then they would be coming back for more -- or so she hoped.
But as it turns out, (to absolutely no one’s surprise whatsoever) they made breakeven in a week. More than that actually.
Molly was so overwhelmed by the positive feedback that she nearly burst into tears on her way in the door every morning. Employees had been thoroughly hired before the grand opening, so, fortunately, they were prepared for the onslaught of customers. However, there was still some room on the team for whichever family member decided to drop by and get coaxed into helping by Molly. Hermione and Harry stopped by often to assist as well. In fact, the two were frequently assigned different quadrants of the kitchen to cautiously prepare whatever delicacy was in demand that day. Occasionally, Hermione sent off deliveries and Harry took over the cash register. On the day of the Grand Opening, the entire Weasley clan could be found bumping into one another in the back, looking over the shoulders of other trained employees and following the orders of the Weasley matriarch. Her family was never too far from this place it seemed.
Things were going incredibly well.
There had been more than one request to personally thank the chef for the meal. Molly soon heard more than one rendition of,
As soon as I had a bite of that delicious banoffee pie I just knew I had to zip over here and check the place out. I’m terribly glad that I did.
Or the less elegant version,
Goddamn, you make a great banoffee pie.
At any rate, the promotional pie and flyer were quite good business moves and those that tried the pie and paid a visit, weren’t away for long.
Whether it was because of the versatile menu or just because seconds weren’t enough, people never quite stayed away for long.
In fact, there were quite a few regulars already.
They had customers from all sorts of circles, and at the end of the first week when they went to a bar to celebrate, Harry never held back when dishing about gossip and stories he had heard while manning the register.
The fact that the Harry Potter was manning the register at The Red Herring, also could have had something to do with its success, but the food was wonderful and Harry’s celebrity presence certainly didn’t hurt.
Even old schoolmates showed up and participated in a polite chat.
Theodore Nott had waltzed up to the register, demanded two lemon meringue pies, and drawled, “Did they kick you outta The Ministry, Potter? This certainly is quite the job you’ve taken on.” And while it wasn’t a very friendly conversation, it wasn’t unpleasant either. After Theo’s appearance, many Slytherins followed suit.
Not just Slytherins though, old classmates from every house. Luna and Cho had brought in many interested Ravenclaws, and Hannah Abbott, who happened to be employed by Molly herself, got many former Hufflepuffs hooked on a buttermilk spice muffin. Of course several Gryffindor alumni gathered at the front pastry case right before closing and caught up with the Golden Trio as they passed around crumbs and reject piles of treats, leftover from the day. A reunion party tended to break out every week.
As the exhilaration dyed down, Hermione couldn’t help but notice that as Ron was sitting on the counter, Lavender wiped off a bit of filling that was left behind on his chin by a raspberry danish. Seamus and Dean were fighting over the last eclair, and in the corner, Neville, Luna, Harry, and herself were deep in conversation. Hermione and Neville were set for drinks next Saturday, while Luna and Harry prepared to set off towards the Leaky Cauldron to meet Ginny. As she bade farewell to her friends and cast a calculating look towards Lavender, Hermione left on her way down the streets of Diagon Alley.
Business was booming, she had reconnected with her friends, and even… well made new ones.
All was well in her world, besides being rather exhausted from her first tireless week of work in the diner.
Hermione always liked it when she was so busy, she didn’t have time to think until all of the excitement was over -- Even when acknowledging how much she did in fact like to think, there was something therapeutic about letting the world fly past her in a daze while being so utterly absorbed in something completely new and different. She let the past events wash over her like a hot shower and tried not to think about how much flour had probably seeped into her bag.
After all... she was due at the dinner bright and early on Monday.
* * *
On the other side of Britain, beat-up flyer in hand, Pansy Parkinson had unwittingly come across the new Weasley family business, and needless to say, she was captivated and -- slightly confused?
What, were the Weasley's testing their hands in every profession these days?
Things just got curiouser and curiouser.