Harry*

Every Monday morning, I go to my favorite London coffee shop: Hearth & Roast. This coffee shop was only a few blocks away from the residential complex that I live in, and it is on my way to work. I also liked how it wasn't super busy all the time. It was quiet so I could actually read the newspaper.

Thankfully no one was in line, so I went up to the cashier, Zoey who has worked here for some time. "Hi Harry," she said with a smile. "Same old, same old today or do you want to try something a little different? We have our Pumpkin Spice flavor back today."

"You know what," I said, with a smile and my hands in my pocket. "It's fall. I'll try a medium roast hot, with some pumpkin spice flavoring and a vanilla shot."

"Such a delicious choice," she said, grinning even wider. "I love mixing Pumpkin Spice and Vanilla." Zoey then turned to face one of her colleagues. "You got that one, Roxanne?"

"I got it, Zoey. I'm slowly getting the hang of it, but I'm getting the hang of it," the girl named Roxanne said as she made my drinks.

"Hey Harry," said Zoey. "You free this weekend?"

"Uh, I believe so, why?" I asked. Was she going to ask me out on a date?

"Well, we're having a family game night. . .my mum and dad and sister are coming from out of town. And they think I've made some good friends here... but really, I haven't. . . This might be a weird ask, but would you be my friend this weekend?"

"Oh," I said. I was a little taken aback by her request. I really thought she was going to ask me out. But honestly, I'm thankful that she didn't.

"You can think about it, if you want. I know it's a big ask, considering we don't really know each other—"

I cut her off. "No. No, Zoey," I chuckled. "I'd be honored to be your friend this weekend. And you know what, why don't we just become friends? Why does it have to be fake?"

"Really?" she asked, her eyes lit up like Christmas Lights. I know that's such a cliche metaphor, but it's true, it's what her eyes looked like. I nodded. "You're the best! I will leave you the address on your coffee cup, and my phone number of course!"

I nodded. "Okay. Sounds like a plan."

As I wait for my coffee, I look around the shop, and I see a familiar face sitting in a window seat. I walked over to him. He too had a copy of the New York Times. He took a sip of his drink and looked up at me. "Oh, great, it's you again," he said, rolling his eyes.

"Yes, it's me again," I smiled, sitting across from him without asking.

The girl named Roxanne came over with my coffee. "So sorry it took so long—I'm new at this. . ." She handed me my paper cup of coffee.

The paper cup was so thin that I could feel the heat morphing through it and entering the pours of my skin. "It's alright, dear," I said, looking up at her with a smile. "I understand completely. Thank you very much."

Roxanne smiled at me and then went back behind the counter.

I then turned back to Draco. "You know, it's funny. I never pictured you in a Muggle coffee shop. I thought you would be more, you know. . . with the higher society."

"Maybe I've just grown tired of the expectations that come from that world. And I've just been getting bitter, like this coffee."

"You're not bitter, Draco," I said. He raised an eyebrow. "Okay, maybe a little. But I can understand why. I was bitter for some time too."

"You? You were bitter, Potter?"

I nodded. "After the war, I felt like everything was my fault. It did take me some time though, to realize that it wasn't."

"How did you—"

I cut him off, knowing exactly what he was going to ask me. "I'd be happy to talk more about this, but. . ." I looked at my antique golden watch on my left wrist given to me by Hermione and Ron as a birthday present. "I have to get going to work soon."

"Where do you work? You're an Auror aren't you?"

I shook my head. "Not anymore. I thought that was my dream, it wasn't. I'm now working with Neville Longbottom and Skylar Scamander at a shelter. It's called the Starlight Sanctuary, co-owned by Newt Scamander and Hagrid. It's for endangered magical species or for traumatized magical pets, that need caring. Listen, how about you come over to my flat tonight for a warm meal? And I can tell you about how I overcame my bitterness and became more so—bittersweet."

Honestly, I'm unsure if Draco will even say yes. He was already distant in the laundry room, and he didn't seem to want much of a conversation here in the coffee shop either. But when he actually asked me about my troubles was when I realized he might be interested in connecting. What's the trouble in asking? We're neighbors, right? Neighbors got to be neighborly.

Draco sighed. "Alright. . .um..." At first, Draco looked extremely confused. But then he said, "Uh, Sure. I will come over tonight. What time do you want me there Potter?"

"How about five o'clock? That is usually when I start making dinner, and it would be ready by six."

"Alright. Sounds good. See you tonight Potter."

I smiled at him, took a sip of my hot coffee, that actually tasted pretty good with the Pumpkin spice, and headed out the door.

Skylar and Neville wouldn't believe Draco's here in London. Hell, they wouldn't even believe that he is my Nextdoor neighbor! I chuckled to myself and continued walking to work, glancing back at the coffee shop window where Draco seemed to be deep in thought.