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A Life Filled with Laughter and Ice Cream

The young girl on the other side of the counter made a small disbelieving squeak.  It was Florean Forescue’s favourite sound in the world, and it never failed to make him smile.  It was a sound filled with awe and excitement unique to this situation, as Florean managed to perch one last scoop atop a cone already impossibly laden with ice cream.  Still smiling, he turned to the line of toppings on the counter and began his artful drizzling and sprinkling. 

“Here you are, my dear,” he said passing the ice cream over the counter.  “Butterbeer-flavoured ice cream with caramel and pecans.  An excellent choice.  I added a little crystalized ginger as well.  I think you’ll like it.”  The girl tossed her bushy brown hair over her shoulder as she took it, and displayed some charmingly large front teeth as she grinned up at him in thanks.  Children were so cute with their imperfections.  

“And for the young gentleman?” Florean asked, turning to the girl’s companion.  Florean estimated the pair to be thirteen or fourteen years old, but the boy was so tall, he was already matching Florean’s height, and his large hands and gangly awkwardness bespoke of more growing still to do.  The boy held his shoulders in a slight slump in the way tall people often did—as though they were not quite sure whether they wanted to stand out in the crowd.  But want it or not, between his height and his flaming red hair, this boy would forever stand out.  Florean hoped he would someday come to see this as a good thing. 

The boy was scrutinising the case filled with various ice cream flavours as he answered, not quite meeting Florean’s eye.  “Er… I’ll have a cone with vanilla bean and hot fudge on top,” he decided.  Florean whipped up a fresh cone and an ice cream scoop and set to work.

“All these interesting ice cream options and you pick the most simple flavour,” the bushy-haired girl teased him. 

“What?  I know what I like!” the boy defended himself. 

“Sometimes keeping things simple lets you appreciate the intricacies hidden within,” chimed in Florean as he handed the boy’s ice cream over the counter with a flourish. 

The boy blinked in surprise and that little slump in his posture straightened just a bit as he took in his towering ice cream cone.  Florean had added whipped cream and some colour-changing sprinkles while the boy had been distracted by his friend.  He’d seen the lad eyeing them earlier, before he’d also taken note of the sign that declared each additional topping to be four knuts extra.

Alright, so Florean Fortescue was perhaps not the best business man on the planet.  Even as he crossed to the till and rang each of the children up for one ice cream with one topping, he knew he really should be charging for the extra toppings.  But these were the little things that made Florean happy.  Seeing the excitement when his customers took in all the different flavour options.  Seeing the anticipation as they watched him preparing their order.  Seeing the thrill when they noticed that Florean had added his own little twist.  And seeing the bliss when they at last took that first bite.  Florean loved every second of it.  So if he was a few Galleons down in profits at the end of the quarter, it was worth it.  What was the point of life if one wasn’t happy, after all?

“Where shall we sit?” the boy asked his friend as he turned around, looking about the shop for the best table.

“Outside,” replied the girl, glancing out the window.  There was a faint air of worry about her expression.  “Maybe we’ll catch sight of Harry.  I wonder where he’s got off to…”

“I’m sure he’ll turn up.  He can’t have gone far.”

“Can’t he have?” the girl said sceptically as she moved toward the door.  “This is Harry we’re talking about.  Last year he ended up in Knockturn Alley.”

“Yeah, but that was different.  He got lost in the—” The rest of the boy’s rebuttal was cut off by the chiming of the bell on the door as it swung shut behind them. 

Florean watched the pair through the large store-front windows as they selected a small table just out front.  They were still talking, though Florean could not hear the words, as they relieved themselves of their shopping bags while carefully holding their ice creams upright.  They noticeably chose the table furthest from the only other patrons—a couple in their early twenties who were currently enjoying a good snog over the knickerbocker glory they were sharing.

Florean smiled mildly to himself as he wiped down the counter.  So these two must be Harry Potter’s friends looking for him.  They wouldn’t have long to wait.  Harry would wander by soon enough, Florean was sure of it.  For Florean had quite learned the boy’s routine over the past couple weeks.  He’d have wagered ten Galleons that Harry was currently standing outside Quality Quidditch Supplies with his nose pressed to the glass—he’d seen him there so often, it was quite a safe bet.  But Harry would likely head their way in search of lunch soon.  He always did.

Counter cleaned, Florean glanced around for his next task.  The chopped nuts could do with a refill.  He absently re-secured the top of his apron on his waistcoat button—he needed to mend that button hole; it kept slipping off.  He reached into a store cupboard and pulled out a bag of mixed nuts and set to dicing them into fine pieces. 

A few minutes later, he glanced back up through the window in time to see the couple with the knickerbocker glory getting up to leave.  He smiled and waved in farewell through the window, and they smiled back before making their way down Diagon Alley hand-in-hand.  Oh, to be young and in love, Florean smiled to himself as he plucked up a cloth and headed out to clean the newly vacated table.

The sun was shining brightly outside.  Florean savoured these days—the last of the warm summer sun before autumn came.  Couple that with the increase in children in the Alley every August as they all came to buy their school things, it was Florean’s favourite time of year.

Florean was just Banishing the tall glass and two spoons left behind on the table when a cry pierced the warm air.  “Harry!  HARRY!”  Florean glanced over his shoulder, a smile already crinkling his eyes.  Both the bushy-haired girl and tall gangly boy were sitting straight up in their seats, arms in the air, waving frantically down the road.  And sure enough, when Florean followed their gaze, Harry Potter was loping in their direction, smiling broadly. 

Laughing slightly to himself about nothing in particular, Florean turned back to his work to allow Harry and his friends to greet each other with privacy.  He was still chuckling as he bent to wipe down the table.  It wasn’t that it was particularly funny.  Rather that Florean was simply very fond of laughing and found any excuse to do so.

But as he turned back to his work, he caught sight of another figure who had also been distracted by the girl’s cry.  A man’s progress down the street had faltered when he’d heard the name, and he was now standing just a few paces away from Florean, staring down the road in Harry’s direction.  Everything about this man’s body language spoke of being quite caught off guard.

Florean was just wondering if he was going to have to tell this man to move along— Harry should be allowed to enjoy a little sunshine with his friends without being gaped at, after all.  But just as he was trying to decide how to politely tell the man to go about his business, he recognised him.

“Remus?”

It seemed mad that he’d not recognised him immediately.  They had known each other quite well once.  But on the other hand, it had been many years since Florean had seen him.  And the years did not appear to have been kind to Remus Lupin.  Grey streaked his once light brown hair and there were dark circles under his eyes and deep worry lines in his face.

Remus, who had apparently stopped mid-stride to stare at Harry, started and turned.  “Florean!”  He blinked bemusedly.  “I didn’t see you there.”  He glanced distractedly Harry’s way one more time before forcing his gaze away and at last smiling at Florean. 

Florean looked Harry’s way as well.  Harry had sat down at the table, his back to Florean and Remus, and his friends seemed to be quizzing him on why he had been staying in Diagon Alley.  Florean turned back to Remus, a small sympathetic smile on his lips.  He held out a hand in greeting.  “It’s been a long time.”

Remus smiled back with a small huff of air escaping his lungs.  He’d turned his attention more fully to Florean now and there was affection in his gaze.  “It has.”  He took Florean’s hand and gripped it in a firm handshake.  “Too long,” he asserted.

“How have you been?” Florean asked.  It really had been such a long time.  Years.  Florean racked his brain to remember when they had last seen each other.  The last time he could remember was… but surely not.  Surely it could not have been that long.

“I’ve been quite well,” replied Remus.

But Florean scrutinised the younger man for a moment.  He really was looking terribly weather-beaten compared to how Florean remembered him.  His robes were patched and frayed, the soles of his shoes peeling off.  He carried a single shopping bag, and in it, Florean caught sight of some second-hand books and instruments.  “Have you?” he asked at last, allowing the scepticism and worry to sound in the words.

Remus laughed softly.  “Well… Getting by, anyway.  And I’m cautiously optimistic that things may be getting better.”

“Of course!  I’ve heard you’re to be congratulated on a new job!  Well done, you.”

“Well… Not sure if it was truly my doing or just more of Dumbledore’s charity,” Remus said with a wry smile.

“Hey, now.  We’ll have none of that talk.  You deserve it,” Florean said firmly.  “Not in a hurry, are you?  Come in and catch up.  Have an ice cream.  On the house, of course.”

“Oh, I couldn’t—”

“Nonsense!” cried Florean jovially.  It had been so long since he’d seen any of the old crowd.  Not since he’d said he’d had enough and started this new life.  But there was something more.  A sadness in Remus’s expression that Florean found he very much wanted to ease.  “I absolutely insist.”  And he ushered Remus toward the front door of his shop. 

Remus allowed himself to be herded, smiling and shaking his head slightly.  His feet did falter ever so slightly as he passed the table with the three young wizards chatting together.  Harry was talking.  The bushy-haired girl looked a bit reproachful, but Harry must have said something funny because the tall boy was guffawing.  All three seemed quite oblivious to Florean and his companion passing.

“— Your dad doesn’t know why Fudge let me off, does he?” Harry was saying.

“Probably ’cause it’s you, isn’t it?” shrugged the tall read-headed boy, still chortling.  “Famous Harry Potter and all that.”

Remus’s feet had slowed and his head half-turned in the direction of the conversation, but he did not quite look their way.  Florean opened the door for him pointedly, though a friendly smile lingered on his face.  At the jingle of the bell, Remus glanced back at Florean with a self-conscious smirk, and walked in, taking the hint. 

“Make yourself at home,” Florean called to Remus as he made his way to the sink.  He tossed down his cleaning cloth and drew his wand from his apron pocket.  He then pointed it at the dishes he had Banished there, and they were immediately coated in satisfying pink suds.  After rinsing, he used his wand to conduct them on their dance across the room to perch on the shelf behind the counter, sparkling clean and proudly awaiting their next customer.

He turned back to his guest.  Remus was standing awkwardly in the corner.  And quite as though it were against his better judgment, his eyes had travelled out the front window as he waited.  Harry’s friends seemed to be showing off their recent purchases.  They’re mouths moving in happy conversation seemed a strange contrast to the quiet mood inside.  Remus reminded Florean of a small lonely child watching the popular kids from across the play yard while secretly longing to join them.

“Never met him, I take it,” Florean asked.

Remus startled again, clearly too lost in thought to have noticed Florean approaching.  Florean gave a small nod in Harry’s direction in response to Remus’s questioning look that was fooling no one.  A small self-conscious laugh escaped Remus’s lips before he glanced out the window again, then back to Florean.  “No.  No, I never have.  Not since he was a baby, that is.”

Remus’s gaze had drifted back to Harry’s profile visible through the window, but Florean continued to study Remus curiously.  His posture, his expression, the words he didn’t say.  Remus tried to hide it, but Florean could almost feel the depression coming off him in waves.  There was sadness, loss, and something rather like guilt.  “Merlin, he looks so much like James,” Remus said quietly.

He seemed to speak to himself as much as to Florean, but he answered nonetheless, keeping his tone as light and cheerful as he could manage.  “He does that.  But there’s something of Lily in there too.”

Remus glanced back at him and smiled, a sad sort of nostalgic smile.  But he said nothing, so Florean continued.  He was quite sure Remus wanted more information—he just didn’t want to ask for it.  “He’s a sweet lad.  I’ve gotten to know him a bit the past few weeks while he’s been staying at the Leaky Caldron.  He’s been coming by my shop almost every day to do his homework outside.”

Remus blinked in confusion. “He’s staying at the Leaky Caldron?”

“Aye.  Got into a spot of bother with his relations, I gather.  Did a runner which caused a fair bit of a kerfuffle at the Ministry.  But they managed to track him down quick enough.”  Remus was looking more and more worried as he took in this story.  “There was just three weeks left in the school holidays, so Fudge just set him up at the Leaky Caldron.” 

“All on his own?  Is that safe?”  Remus looked quite alarmed now.

Florean shrugged casually.  “Fudge set old Tom in charge of minding him.  But I highly doubt I’m the only one on the street who got an owl from Albus asking me to keep an eye on Harry discreetly.”  He laughed.  “Some are more discreet than others.  Grisha Brankovic over in the apothecary stares after him every time he’s passing down the street, and I saw Madam Malkin checking on him the other day.  And if I know Albus, I’m sure he’s got Duncan MacFarlane from Quality Quidditch Supplies in his pocket.  Harry practically lives in that shop of his, so Albus would be a fool not to.  And we all know Albus is no fool.”  He laughed to himself, remembering the look of yearning he'd seen on Harry’s face the last time Florean had passed the lad there staring at that broomstick in the window.  Remus’s cheek quirked, and Florean suspected he was internally noting another similarity between Harry and James.

“Nah, if a certain mass murdering lunatic were to turn up, I reckon you’d find people coming out of the woodwork to spring to Harry’s defence.”

The smile slipped from Remus’s face as fast as it had come.  Florean winced.  He tried so hard to put smiles on people’s faces, not take them off.  “Sorry,” he mumbled.  “Didn’t mean to…”

But Remus was shaking his head with a sigh.  “No, don’t trouble yourself.  Everyone is talking about him.  And I see his wanted posters are plastered all up and down the Alley.  I’m going to have to get used to it eventually.”

They fell into an awkward silence.  Merlin, but Florean hated awkward silences.  Outside, Harry was pointing down Diagon Alley and the others were nodding and collecting their shopping bags.  The three of them rose to their feet and headed across the street.  Remus was watching them go with much the same expression as Harry had when looking at that broomstick in the window of Quality Quidditch Supplies.

“I’d rather have thought you would have gotten to know Harry before,” Florean observed mildly, glancing between Remus and Harry’s retreating back.  Clearly Remus cared deeply for this boy he’d never met properly.  “What with how close you and Lily and James and… and all of you were…”

Remus looked back at him, and that undercurrent of guilt was more prominent now.  Then he looked down, picking an imaginary speck of dust out from under a fingernail.  “No…” he said hesitantly.  “Dumbledore thought it best that Harry grow up away from the wizarding world as much as possible, at least to start.  I didn’t argue.  I… I wasn’t in a great place… back then…”

Florean thought it likely an understatement.  He couldn’t even begin to imagine the pain Remus had suffered.  In one fell swoop, three of his best friends (only friends, Florean suspected) were dead and one was in Azkaban for making it happen.  And he’d been so young.  Florean didn’t know of any single twenty-one-year-old men who would have taken a great deal of interest in an orphaned baby.  It was quite fair, really.

“Well, you’ll be getting to know him now, I expect.  What with you starting at Hogwarts,” he said bracingly.

Remus shrugged.  “As his teacher, yes.  Far cry from the relationship I may have had with him had… had things been different.  But maybe it’s better that way,” he added and Florean did not like the hint of self-loathing he heard in that comment.  But before he could quite process that, Remus had continued with a small rueful laugh.  “And I think I’m glad to have come across him here.  Get the shock out of the way now rather than on that first day of classes where it would have been a lot harder to hide.”

He stared out the window, lost in what Florean suspected was a rather miserable thought.  Then he blinked and glanced at Florean.  “I thought about reaching out, you know,” Remus defended himself, clearly thinking Florean would be judging him.  But Florean was not in the habit of judging.  “A few years after the war ended.  When I was feeling… better.  I thought about going to visit or… writing…  But when’s the right time to introduce yourself to your dead friends’ son who wouldn’t even remember you existed?  So I made excuses to myself, ‘He’s so young…’  ‘Maybe someday…’  Then the years started to go by, and it just felt more and more awkward to reach out.”  He was staring down the road after Harry, though the lad and his friends had long-since disappeared from view.  “Suppose I was a coward.  Didn’t want to face the question of where I’d been all those years…”

Florean contemplated Remus’s profile for a moment.  He really needed to lighten the mood out of this self-deprecating spiral.  “Life is like ice cream in that way,” he said.  Remus blinked in distraction and looked at him questioningly.  Florean smiled and leaned in a little with a conspiratorial mock-whisper.  “Gotta enjoy it before it melts.”  Remus huffed a begrudging laugh.

“And on that note…” continued Florean, looking Remus up and down thoughtfully.  “Coconut with chocolate swirl, I think.”  He nodded to himself and turned away from the window, heading toward the counter. 

Remus blinked.  “Pardon?”

“Ice cream.  Coconut with chocolate swirl.  Yes.  Definitely.”  He nodded as he moved around to situate himself behind the counter.  “One should always have chocolate on hand for when one is feeling down,” he called back in Remus’s direction.  Back when he’d known Remus in another lifetime, Florean might have picked out brandysnap ice cream for him.  But his mood today most definitely called for chocolate.

And so he took up a waiting sundae glass and set about packing it full with ice cream.  Remus watched him at it, a small smile on his lips.  “So this is your life now.  It’s so different from the one I remember you in,” he said as Florean drizzled a little extra chocolate on top and added a pinch of sliced almonds.

Florean smiled as he plucked up a freshly-baked macaroon to top off the sundae.  Then he held out his concoction to Remus before saying simply, “It’s been a very good life.”

“You don’t miss it then?” Remus asked him, accepting the sundae, though his gaze was on Florean’s face, reading his expression thoughtfully.

“Being an Auror?”  Florean contemplated this for a brief moment.  “Nah.  I really don’t.”  He turned and collected a long spoon from a drawer to pass to Remus.

He was quiet for a moment, thinking back to that past life.  That past version of himself.  He tried to think how to explain it.  Remus took a bite of his ice cream, still watching Florean.  Then he blinked and raised his eyebrows appreciatively, glancing at the ice cream.  Florean felt a small tick of satisfaction at the reaction, before turning his mind back to what he’d been wanting to say.

“I feel joy when the people around me feel joy,” said Florean at last.  “I laugh when they laugh.  But I also cry when they cry.  And hurt when they hurt.  And when I was an Auror… Oh, there was a lot of hurt.”  Even now, years later, it was painful to think back to those days. 

“I was constantly getting called from catastrophe to catastrophe.  I grew to dread it.  Getting called to a house with a Dark Mark floating above and just knowing what I was about to find inside…  I saw a lot of death.  That I could take.  It was the people they left behind… Notifying next of kin was always the worst.  Merlin, I still see their faces when I go to bed at night. 

“I remember going to tell Fabian and Gideon Prewett’s sister that they’d both been murdered.  She was surrounded by this gaggle of children, most of them too young to understand why their mum was sobbing.  Benjy Fenwick’s mother didn’t believe me.  Thought Benjy was playing one of his poor-taste practical jokes.  And Marleen McKinnon’s father just stared at me.  Like he didn’t understand a word.  His daughter and grandchildren all in one go.  It was two weeks later I’d heard he’d gone and hanged himself.”

“Then Barty Crouch goes and tells us we have permission to use extreme force in the fight against the Death Eaters.  ‘Fight Fiendfyre with Fiendfyre,’ he says.  Clears us to use the Unforgivable Curses against them.  Started throwing people in Azkaban without trial if there was enough evidence against them.  ‘Efficiency,’ he called it.”  Florean shook his head disgustedly.  “Well… That’s not why I became an Auror.  Never wanted to choose efficiency over doing the right thing.  Never wanted to stoop to the Death Eaters' level.  I became an Auror because I wanted to make the world better.  Wanted to help people.  But in the end, it seemed all I was doing was bringing people misery.”

Florean stared off into the distance, not really seeing anything, but still feeling the pain of so many people in turn.  After a moment, he blinked and remembered where he was.  He turned and smiled kindly at Remus.  “Nah.  I don’t miss it.”  Then he laughed to himself.  “Nowadays, the most arduous task I’ve been set is to ply a sweet thirteen year-old boy with copious amounts of ice cream to keep him too distracted to go wandering off.  Merlin knows it’s a refreshingly enjoyable task compared to some of the past requests I got from Albus back when I was in the Order.”

Remus laughed appreciatively, his most earnest laugh yet.  Florean was not sure if this was due to his wit or that the ice cream was finally doing its job, but either way, it made him pleased.  The pair of them sat in companionable silence for a moment. 

Remus took another bite of ice cream contemplatively.  “I miss it sometimes,” he admitted.  “The war.”

Florean blinked.  How could anyone miss war?  There was no beauty there.  No happiness.  Only misery and pain and loss.  Something must have showed in his expression because Remus clarified, “Well, perhaps not the war itself, per se.  But I miss having a job.  Having purpose.  And I miss the Order.  Miss having that community.  Miss… well, I miss having friends.”

He looked as though this were a shameful admission.  But Florean could see nothing shameful in it.  Only pitiable.  Remus had had a lonely life.  He had suffered a childhood in seclusion due to his condition.  Then he finally found the happiness of friendship only to have it snatched away again. 

Florean felt guilt that he had never thought to look in on Remus since the war ended.  He really couldn’t remember if they’d seen each other at all since Lily and James’s funeral.  He tried to find the words to apologise for this.  To tell Remus how sorry he was that he’d not been there for him in what must have been the most challenging time of his life. 

He opened his mouth to speak, but at that moment, the bell on the door jingled.  They both looked around as two old witches bustled in, one chittering away in a continuous stream, forgetting to pause long enough to ever let her companion answer.  “Oh, I’ve just heard the best things about Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlour.  Oh look, that must be him.  Now we have to pick a flavour, don’t we.  Gracious me, but there’s a lot of options aren’t there?  Which do you think, Matilda?  Hm, I’ve always been fond of rum raisin.  And mint chip is always a delight.  But perhaps I should try something different today.  Something I can’t just get at the shops.  There certainly are a lot of unique combinations here.  Do you suppose we should treat ourselves to a cone?  What’s a few extra calories, after all.  Oh and goodness me!  Look at all those toppings.  However is one to pick!”

“Good afternoon, ladies,” Florean said, deciding to cut in before the woman passed out from lack of oxygen.  “Can I offer any assistance?”

“Oh, hello dear!  You must be Mr. Fortescue.  We’ve heard ever such lovely things about your ice cream.  Have we not, Matilda?  We’re in town for the big herbology show, you know.  It’s the national finals, and Matilda’s Fanged Geranium is sure to take a ribbon!  But when everyone heard we were off to London, they all told us, ‘you absolutely must pop in for an ice cream at Florean Fortescue’s,’ they said.  So here we are, and I must say, we are quite delighted, isn't that right, Matilda?” 

Matilda, a stooped grey-haired lady in olive tweed robes, was merely blinking through her enormous spectacles in a rather spacey way.  She made no particular attempt to answer or indeed any sign at all that she had heard her friend’s question.  Florean suspected she was rather in the habit of tuning out the other woman’s chatter.  Or perhaps she was a little deaf.  But if so, Florean could not help but feel this would just mean the pair of them were really quite wonderfully suited to each other.

The first lady was still chittering away happily.  A pink headscarf was wrapped around neatly curled hair which was dyed a rather unnatural shade of orange.  Both of these clashed quite spectacularly with her red lipstick.  Florean internally commended her for her fearless sense of fashion.  “Yes, so here we are,” she was saying.  “And now we must pick a flavour.  But how ever should I pick just one?  You have so many to choose from!  And each looks better than the last, I must say!  Goodness, who’s ever heard of a peppercorn and cheddar ice cream!  That does sound a bit too adventurous for me.  But the pear and ginger sounds interesting, doesn’t it?  But perhaps I would like something a little sweeter.  I do have such a sweet tooth.”

Florean smiled at her warmly.  “If you find it too intimidating to pick for yourself, I would be happy to make a selection for you.  I have something of a knack for it, I’m told.  I’m never wrong.”

“Oh, goodness, do you really?  How clever of you!  Why, we would find it quite thrilling to have you pick for us, would we not, Matilda?  Oh, yes.  Please do.  Something sweet and a little out of the ordinary.  But not too out of the ordinary, if you take my meaning.”

Florean laughed happily for a moment before taking up a cone and his ice cream scoop.  A moment later, he was proffering an elegant ice cream across the counter.  “Honey, cardamom, and rose.  The flavours should come nicely one after the other.  The honey hits first with a nice sweetness on the tongue.  Then the rose water—it’s subtle, not too overpowering.  And finally just a hint of cardamom at the end to add that spice.  The pistachios on top offer a little texture and should pair beautifully with all the other flavours.”

“Oh, gracious!  You are so very clever!  I never would have thought of such a combination, but my goodness, it’s just gorgeous.  And exactly what I wanted, though I never knew I wanted it, if you understand me.”

“And for Madam Matilda…” Florean cut in, turning to her friend and contemplating her for a moment.  Then he picked up his scoop again to work his own personal brand of magic.  “Lavender and bergamot.  The candied lemon zest on top is a personal favourite.  Lightens everything up and with the earthy flavour from the bergamot with the floral lavender, the combination tastes like sunshine in the garden.”  Matilda’s eyes blinked owlishly at him from behind her thick spectacles for a moment, then a slow and happy smile spread across her lips.  She reached a shaky hand out to grasp the cone.

“Oh, what a lovely image you’ve gone and conjured in my brain, Mr. Fortescue.  Just lovely.  Does yours taste as smashing as mine, Matilda?  Oh, what fun this has been.  Now how much do we owe you, dear.  Now you keep the change.  No, no!  I absolutely insist.  You deserve every knut.  Now, Matilda.  Shall we leave these gentlemen in peace?  I fear we interrupted their conversation.  Let’s you and I go sit out in the sunshine, shall we?”

Her voice was lost in the tinkling of the bell as the door swung shut behind them.  Florean smiled fondly after them for a moment before turning back to Remus.  Remus, in turn, was smiling at Florean with the expression of one enjoying a private joke.

“What?” asked Florean.

Remus shook his head in humorous bemusement.  “You know I never understood it.  How you could give it all up.  The Order of the Phoenix.  The Ministry—and you primed to be the next Head of the Auror Office.  All for something so banal as an ice cream parlour.  It just didn’t seem like ‘you’.”

He paused here, regarding Florean with that curious smile.  Florean could not help but smile back.  “But?” he prompted him.

Remus raised his eye brows and let out a small laugh, shaking his head.  “But I get it now.  You’re at home here.  You belong here.  Surrounded by happy people.  People who are happy because of what you bring to the world.”

“And who isn’t happy in an ice cream parlour,” Florean contributed.  He felt his eyes crinkle again as he looked around his shop lovingly, running a hand along the counter top as though stroking a faithful pet.  After a moment of quiet contemplation, he said, “It was Lily who gave me the idea to open this shop, did you know?”

“Lily?  Lily Potter?  No.  I had no idea.”  There was genuine surprise in Remus’s voice.

Florean laughed to himself.  “Not directly.  It all started as a bit of a joke.  She’d come across me after I’d had something of a bad day.  Charlotte had just left me and taken the boys to Australia, you remember?  No laws protecting visitation rights for step-fathers.  So I was already having a rough go of it.  Then at work… Remember Ceradoc Dearborn?  I was in charge of his case.  His was that one case…  That one that you always remember.  The one that you can never really let lie.  He’d just disappeared.  Not a trace.  Of course we all knew he must be dead.  But we couldn’t prove it, you know?  No body no crime.

“And so Barty Crouch comes and tells me that I’ve got to drop it.  ‘It’s a cold case,’ he says.  ‘Nothing’s going to come of it, so better to focus our efforts on cases we can crack.  Death Eaters we can actually round up.’  Well, you can imagine, Ceradoc’s mum wasn’t happy about that.  She was grieving, I get it.  Can’t blame the poor lady.  She’d had no closure, no peace.  But she came storming into the Auror Office that day and just let me have it.  Screaming at the top of her lungs about how I didn’t care about Ceradoc at all, that I’d never even bothered to try to find him, that I was completely incompetent…

“Well, anyway… Like I said.  It’d been a rough day.  And Lily came up to me after an Order meeting and asked me how I was and just let me vent about it.  She was just that way, wasn’t she?  I was never so close to the Potters as you, of course, but she was such a sweet little thing.  She always made a point to check in on you if you were struggling.  So I’m telling her all about Ceradoc and his mum and Barty Crouch and about how much I miss my boys and about how angry I was at Charlotte for moving them so far away… And then you know what she says to me, Lily?  She says, ‘You know you can’t make everyone happy, Florean.  You’re not ice cream.’”

Florean roared with laughter at the memory, and Remus chuckled softly as well.  “That does sound like Lily.”

“Oh, she used to make me laugh, that girl.  Anyway.  I didn’t think anything of it at all, really.  Just Lily being her usual charming and witty self.  Honestly never dreamed I’d make a career out of it.  It was probably over a year later, when I remembered it…”

Florean paused, remembering the day he’d taken his last call as an Auror.  “I was called to their home in Godric’s Hallow, you know?  I must have been one of the first on the scene from the Ministry.  But Albus was quicker, as he always is—he’d already seen to it that Harry was taken away.  No Dark Mark there, this time.  But you didn’t need it.  Most of the upper story of the house was completely blown away.  And Lily and James were still there.  Their… their bodies… I found myself with this terrible thought… That at least I didn’t have to notify next of kin.  Because everyone would know, soon enough.”  He still cringed with shame at that thought.

“It was the strangest sort of mood around that day.  People were… happy… excited.  Normally I’d soak that up, but…”  He sighed.  “I get it, of course.  Why they were happy.  Voldemort was gone.  The war was over.  But still… It was like no one seemed to care that two good people were dead.  I remember just feeling so lost.  Numb.  Like I didn’t know how to feel.  People were gathering, celebrating.  But I just felt apart from it all.  And I was walking down Diagon Alley.  And I came across this shop.  And there was a sign in the window saying it was up for lease. 

“I don’t even really remember deciding to do it.  I don’t remember thinking it through at all.  I just walked in, slapped a deposit on the counter, and told them I wanted it.  Then I went to the Ministry and handed in my notice.”

Remus was staring at him.  He said not a word, but there was sorrow and wonder and something almost like envy in his gaze.  And Florean smiled at him, pushing aside all traces of the melancholy the memory had brought to the surface.  “And I’ve never looked back,” he said.  “Not even once.  Not even that first year when I almost went under a dozen times because I hadn’t the faintest clue how to make a decent ice cream.”  And he laughed.  Because, after all, Florean very much liked to laugh.

Remus watched him laughing with quiet bemusement.  But he was at least smiling faintly, though there was sadness too.  Dragging all this up to the surface was hard.  But Florean hoped it could be therapeutic for them both.

“Well, it seems it all worked out in the end.  It’s good to see you looking so happy,” said Remus.  “And for what it’s worth, I can attest to the fact that you now most definitely do know how to make a decent ice cream.”  He gestured into the dregs at the bottom of his glass with his spoon to enunciate these words and smiled.  Florean chuckled appreciatively. 

Remus glanced at his watch.  “I really should be going…”

“Oh, can you not stay?  I could close up shop early, and we could get some dinner and a pint in the Leaky Cauldron.  And perhaps find a more cheerful topic of conversation,” Florean added, chortling.

“That does sound terribly tempting.  It really has been wonderful to catch up with you, it’s just…”  For some reason, Remus glanced out the window at the afternoon sky.  “I only came by to pick up a few last minute things before the start of term.  But… I really need to be gone before… before nightfall.”

Here Remus gave Florean a significant look that he did not immediately understand.  Florean looked out the window too, then his eyes widened.  “Oh, goodness.  It’s the full moon, is it?”  Then another thought crossed his mind.  “Oh, Remus.  The night before you start a new job, and all.  That’s bad luck, isn’t it?”  Remus huffed a small humourless laugh as though to say, just my luck.  Florean regarded him sympathetically.  “Will you be well enough to Apparate to Hogsmead tomorrow?”

“No.  Not likely,” Remus sighed.  “But Dumbledore’s thought of that.  He sent me a ticket for the Hogwarts Express and a batch of Wolfsbane Potion.  I’ll stay here in London tonight, then I think I can make it as far as Kings Cross in the morning.  It will be a rough start to the day, but I can sleep it off on the train.  Dumbledore also sent me my class schedule, and I notice he has labelled my first day as ‘Administrative.’  No classes scheduled until the following day.” 

Remus gave a dry smile and Florean chuckled appreciatively.  “Sounds like Albus.  Doesn’t miss a trick, that man.”

“No, he certainly does not.”

They both stared at each other in silence for a moment.  Neither quite wanting to initiate a goodbye.  Would they leave it another twelve years before they saw each other again?  Florean hoped not.

“It really was wonderful to see you, Florean,” said Remus softly after a moment.  And his eyes were earnest.  “And as hard as it’s been… I’m glad to have had a chance to talk about the old days again…  I can’t say I have a great many people to talk to about… everything…”

“Not so very many of us left, are there?” commented Florean.  Then he blinked at himself.  That had been an uncharacteristically negative comment.

“No.  Not so much.”  Remus bent to pick up his shopping bag.

There was silence for a moment again.  Then Remus held out his hand in a farewell handshake.  Florean took it in both of his own.  “Good luck on that new job, Professor,” he said, managing a smile.

Remus laughed softly.  “That title sure sounds strange.”

“Well, best get used to it right quick,” Florean suggested.

Remus’s head nodded softly in a silent laugh, and he turned away toward the door.  Florean looked down at his feet, trying to push away the melancholy.  His eyes fell on a box behind the counter.

“Here, now!  Take one of these for the road.”  Remus paused and looked back over his shoulder, his hand outstretched for the door.  Florean dove for the box and snatched up a bar of chocolate.  He rounded the counter, holding it out to Remus.  “I’ve got loads.  Shipment just came in today.  Honeyduke’s finest.  I have to owl-order it in.  I’ve tried the local stuff, but never comes out as good as Honeydukes.”  Remus looked for a moment as though he were going to argue, but Florean pressed on before he could.  “Take it for the train ride tomorrow.  I’m a firm believer in always having chocolate on hand in case of emergency.”  He laughed.  And so did Remus.

Remus stood for a moment, staring down at the bar of chocolate in his hands.   He licked his lips.  Then he glanced up and smiled a sad sort of smile. 

“Goodbye, Florean.”

“Goodbye, Remus.”

And with a jingle of the front bell, he was gone.

Florean stood in the centre of his empty shop, looking around.  This moment seemed significant in a way he couldn’t quite put his finger on.  So now he just stood there, feeling lost. 

He hated when the shop was empty.  He glanced out the window, but even the batty old ladies had moved on at some point without him noticing.  He sighed and turned around looking for something to do.  Anything. 

Cones, he decided.  Time to make cones.  He very much liked making waffle cones.  There was something comforting in the repetitive motions, and the sweet smell invariably drew in a passing customer or two.  He smiled to himself, remembering the first time he had smelled Amortentia—it had smelled of ice cream cones.

He didn’t need to measure anything.  Practiced hands tipped ingredient after ingredient into the bowl automatically.  Flour, sugar, salt, vanilla…  Absently, he stirred the batter, focusing on this task rather than any of the more troubling thoughts which were trying to force their way in.  Pulling out his wand, he tapped the waffle iron and it instantly heated.  Then he set to work.  He ladled a spoonful of batter in to the waffle iron, watched as the steam rose.  When cooked through, a well-practiced twist his wand had the waffle winding into a cone shape before balancing itself on its point on the counter.  He repeated this over and over, allowing it to occupy all his attention.

A few customers came in as the afternoon wore on, but the day was slowing down as they approached dinner time.  He particularly enjoyed the company of a young couple out with their small child who was little more than a babe.  The little boy enjoyed his very first lick of ice cream, while Florean joined his mother and father at laughing heartily at the look of wonder on his face.  Florean thanked whatever powers that be that he could be a part of little happy moments like this.

But too soon, the shop was empty again and Florean was out of waffle batter and the dishes were cleaned and the batch of ice cream cones were neatly lined up to cool.  Florean stood there a moment, watching the cones revolving slowly on their points as they cooled.

May as well put away that order from Honeydukes, Florean thought.  And he bent to lift the box from behind the counter, carrying it over to a storage cupboard in the corner.  He toggled the latch and pulled open the cupboard and—

“BLOODY HELL!”  Florean sprang back, dropping the box to the floor with a thump. 

Out of the cupboard, a flash of green light shot out at him.  It flew over his head where it twisted into shape.  A colossal skull with a serpent tongue floated up to the ceiling.  It hung there, twinkling down on him from a haze of green smoke like some perverse constellation.

Florean stood there frozen for a brief moment, staring up at the Dark Mark over his head.  His heart was pounding.  He drew deep comforting breaths in through his nose as he forced his heartrate to slow.  He licked his lips.  It took all his effort to banish the emotions that had welled inside his heart.  The fear.  Fear of death, no.  Rather a fear of grief.  Of the human suffering that death left behind.

Taking one last deep steadying breath, he put his hands on his hips and glowered up at the skull as one might do a naughty child.  “Now how did you get in there, you pesky little bugger?” 

The Dark Mark did not answer.

Sighing, Florean pulled his wand from the pocket of his apron, shaking his head.  “Riddikulus!” he cried, pointing his wand toward the Dark Mark.

Crack!  The twinkly skull exploded into a spectacular green and gold firework.  There was a soft wizzzz and a BOOM! and another firework went off.  Then another.  A bright pink Catherine wheel was spinning, sending harmless sparks across the room.  A yellow Crackler went off with a pop-pop-pop-pop-pop. 

Florean slowly backed away, his eyes on the fireworks display of his own creation.  But it did not make him laugh today.  For once in his life, Florean did not feel like laughing.

Of all days…  Of all days for a boggart to have worked itself into his cupboard, it had to be this day.  This day when he had just taken such an unexpected and gloomy trip down memory lane.  What were the odds?

The fireworks continued, sending off all the colours of the rainbow.  They were really quite beautiful.  Florean sighed.  He turned and helped himself to a spoon from the drawer, then a scoop of triple chocolate fudge ice cream.  He patted his rather extensive girth as he did so.  His love of ice cream and his sedentary lifestyle had long claimed his Auror physic as a victim.  His Healer had told him he really ought to be laying off the sugar and getting more exercise.  But one more scoop wasn’t going to change things.  He turned back to watch the fireworks.  He licked his spoon thoughtfully as he eyed the beautiful flashes and sparklers.  But still he could not laugh.

He had tried so hard to leave his old life behind.  He’d done everything in his power to get well and truly shot of it.  That life had brought him nothing but grief.  Sometimes it had been his own grief.  Sometimes it had been the grief of perfect strangers that he nonetheless felt as his own grief.

No, damn it.  Why could he not let it go?  His two decades as an Auror had nearly destroyed him.  People had looked to him to make things right that could never be made right.  The result was that he had been lost in misery, in depression, in an obsessive desire to fix what could not be fixed.  And it had run so deep that he had scarcely even noticed as his marriage had fallen to pieces.  Just one more thing he couldn’t fix.

But it was over.  That time was over.  The war was over.  He’d turned things around.  He had left his past life behind in favour of one filled with laughter and ice cream.

So why wasn’t he laughing now?  Now when he really needed it.

Perhaps because it’s not as over as you think, whispered a traitorous voice inside his head. 

Albus had always said Voldemort would come back some day.  Florean wished he didn’t believe it.  But he did. 

In his time as an Auror, Florean had done his fair share of research into Voldemort’s past.  He’d even had the opportunity to interrogate Emlyn Avery about Voldemort’s school days.  Avery had mentioned that Voldemort had been obsessed with finding a path to immortality.  Consequently, Florean had looked into more ways to cheat death than he cared to admit.  Avery had also let slip something about an interest in the Hogwarts Founders before he’d clammed up. 

When Florean put these hints together, he found himself coming to frightening conclusions.  Conclusions that still haunted him.  Could he have made a horcrux?  And could he have used something that no one would think to look for?  Something that had already been deemed lost for centuries?  The Diadem of Ravenclaw, for example?

Stop this.  Let it go, Florean!  It was all moot anyway.  Why was he even still dwelling on this?  Avery had died in Azkaban not long after this interview, and anything else he may have known he took to his grave, even if Florean had wanted to do more digging. 

Which you do not! he told himself firmly.  No.  He mustn’t go down this road.  Not again.  He was happy now.  He loved his job.  Loved his life.  He would not let himself stray down this dangerous path of self-destruction.  The only thing he wanted to do with all that research he had done back then was to help a young schoolboy finish his History of Magic homework!

And anyway.  Florean was an old man now.  If Voldemort did return, it need not be his fight.  He could leave it to the next generation.  The next generation?  By which you mean Harry Potter? came the rebuttal of another annoying internal voice.  He cringed, thinking of that sweet young lad who was sure to have a far more difficult life than he deserved.  If it came to it, could Florean really just sit back and leave Harry and other children like him on their own?

“Oooh!  Dad, look!  Fireworks!”

Florean looked around from the firework display he had been watching without really seeing.  He’d not heard the bell over the BOOM! of the latest firecracker.  But now two young witches of about six and eight with their father stood staring wide eyed and smiling in awe at the display.  They ‘oohed’ and ‘awed’ with each crackle of light. 

“Ice cream and a show!” Florean cried to them merrily.  The girls giggled and Florean laughed a booming laugh.  And with that laugh and with one last crackling Catherine Wheel, the fireworks display exploded into mist.

“Now!”  He clapped once and rubbed his big hands together, bending down to be on eye level with the two giggling girls.  “What flavours would you young ladies like today?  Let me guess.  You look like a chocolate and peanut butter cup, if ever I saw one!  And for you, my dear… hmm.  How’s Drooble’s Best Blowing Gum?”

“With strawberry jam and sprinkles and whipped cream and a cherry!” one of the girls cried happily.

And Florean laughed even harder as he set to work concocting their masterpieces.  The sounds of the girls giggling in delighted excitement bounced off the walls of Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlour in a cacophony of joy. 

Perhaps if Voldemort returned one day, he would have to make a choice.  But that was not today.  Today, Florean chose laughter and ice cream.