A new shop opens along the cobblestone streets of Diagon Alley. What happens when the talented owner of the shop is just as sweet as her beloved pastries?
Warnings: mentions of food
Word Count: 3.7 k
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It was another sunny morning on the streets of Diagon Alley. The last few weeks of June had not failed to establish the warm, summer weather most had been longing for. Hogwarts students were itching to finish school for the summer holidays, and shop-owners along the cobblestone trail began to prepare for booming business in the upcoming weeks.
Your fingers worked to sort through the till as you admired the shop that was finally yours. The early rays beamed through the open drapes as sparkling dust collected on the panes of every window, where the vacant street of Diagon Alley was found. There sat your usual round of customers, who you had grown to adore to no end.
First, there was Joice, a polite old woman who visited with her granddaughter, Lucy. They were the first to arrive every morning, ordering their usual round of chocolate chip biscuits and tea. The young girl - who had proven to become one of your favourites -was turning 7 in a month's time, and was excited for the red-velvet cupcakes that you would be preparing for the special day.
Then, there was Chester - a plump, chatty man who owned the cobbler shop down the street. He arrived on the dot at 9:30 every morning for a slice of your famous blueberry pie, never forgetting to complement its taste and the beautiful summer weather beaming through the glass. His wife had passed during the wizarding war and he vowed that blueberries were her favourite. He was known to leave an extra tip before setting off for the day, along with a friendly wave to you and the elderly woman he had become good friends with.
And lastly, there was Lola, a newly promoted writer for the Daily Prophet. She often strolled in a little past 10:00, a notebook in hand as she requested a different muffin each day. Today, her pick was carrot, smiling sweetly as she made her way to the usual booth by the bay window. She was much friendlier than the old gossip, Rita Skeeter, and was even kind enough to write an article about your beloved pastries.
You couldn't ask for anything better - a smile gracing your lips as you worked to intertwine a long strip of salted dough for your next batch of soft pretzels. So, you sighed happily as you worked to prepare for your next regular, giddy for the Hogwarts students that were sure to arrive any day now.
• -- ٠ ✤ ٠ -- •
The sun was slowly dipping beneath the horizon as the sky was painted pink by the end of the day. The humid weather brought longer afternoons, and you were glad to bid goodbye to your final customer while the sun was still out.
Although, some may have considered your routine a little boring, it was nice having some sort of consistency in your life. Same customers, same orders, same lock-up time; it all reassured you that life was on the right track - that you were headed in the right direction. With such a successful small business, there really wasn't much else to ask for. But as you watched your only employee leave with a fresh batch of doughnuts for his boyfriend back home, you wondered if maybe your perfectly planned lifestyle was missing something that you never knew you needed.
Turning to hang your apron on its designated rack and ensuring all oven-tops had been turned off, you set off to the front entrance with a pair of muggle keys in hand. Even in the Wizarding World, you picked up on old family habits.
Yet, as you began to close the silk drapes by each window, the sound of a bell chimed in the doorway where a tall, lanky man was found.
"Hello," the ginger smiled, dusting off his shoes on the front mat before making his way up to the till. He was clad in vibrant magenta, a colour that clashed magically with his fiery hair. It was striped in its usual unique pattern along with a deep purple waistcoat, both lacking sleeves and exposing his pale, muscular arms. You couldn't help but notice the prominent freckles that danced across his skin, as well as the loose tie draped around his neck. You clearly weren't the only one soaking up the lovely weather.
He, on the other hand, found himself rather nervous under your gaze. He could tell that you were about to lock up - based on the way you quickly retrieved your apron before pulling out a quill and a pad of paper, you weren't expecting any customers past this point.
He and his twin had been excited to meet the new, successful business owner when your sweet shop had first opened. Breakfast at the café every morning definitely didn't sound like a bad idea. But when news about the award-winning store made the paper, so did a picture of the boutique; along with a very beautiful, smiling photo of the young owner.
He hadn't wanted to admit it to Fred, playing it off as though he was too busy or exhausted to pay anyone a visit, but he was entranced by the ravishing girl down the street and couldn't gather the courage to talk to her. It was strange, really, seeing such a loud, charming bloke like him so flustered and afraid; but Fred hadn't ignored this, picking up on his twin's unusual behaviour the second it had begun.
"I'm sorry if you were about to close up. I can come back another time?" he offered, smiling shyly as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his trousers. He glanced up to find you flicking your wand towards the front entrance, where the recently flipped sign welcomed back hungry customers. His eyes lingered on the soft smear of flour against your cheek and he found himself smiling without reason.
"It's no trouble at all, really! What can I do for you?"
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"Ahhh, now there's the lover boy. How did it go?" Fred chimed, hopping up from his spot on the couch at the sound of the front door where he found George sporting a ridiculous smile. Weeks and weeks of hiding his feelings had gone completely down the drain as he allowed himself to finally bask in the sensation of his melting heart.
"I made the order," he spoke dreamily, completely ignoring the teasing tone his brother had sent him. He was too caught up in his daze to see him rolling his eyes before sitting down across the kitchen table where leftovers were prepared for dinner.
"Well of course you made the order, you bloody fool. I mean how did it go?" Fred scoffed, digging into the meal before him. George merely picked at his food, smiling into his plate as though you were there staring back at him.
"It went well. She really is a sweetheart," he smiled, avoiding Fred's gaze as his cheeks burned red. "Thank Godric Ginny is getting married. Otherwise, I wouldn't have had an excuse to talk to her."
The comment caused a scowl from the other end of the table, despite the smirk that grew upon Fred's face.
"Wow, George. What ever happened to our pact?" Fred chuckled, quickly realizing the effect you had on him. He hadn't seen George so foolishly happy since they opened the shop - and even then, his heart hadn't soared as far.
"Yeah, well, Harry can't be that bad. I suppose he's good enough for our dear sister," George shrugged, attempting to remain nonchalant but failing to hide the lovesick smile that tugged at his lips.
"Is that so? So this would have nothing to do with the fact that our dear sister has asked the beautiful baker across the street to cater for her wedding? Knowing full well that you are head over heels for her?" Fred mused, smirking as George's eyes went wide with embarrassment.
"Yeah, yeah. Laugh all you want. But she is the one who invited me over for a cup of tea tomorrow," George gloated, removing his waist jacket proudly before digging into his supper.
"Wow. Smooth, Georgie. And may I ask, does she plan on discussing cake flavours or frosting tints?"
"Oh shut it, you bloody git."
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"So, I hear business has been going well?" George smiled, sipping on his steamy drink as you let your eyes scan over the small, cozy shop. The scent of fresh cookies wafted through the room, along with a few new customers who had slipped through the door in need of something sweet. Drops of rain dripped down the window - quite a contrast from the bright and sunny day you had all just experienced. Yet, even under the gloomy sky, George found his eyes lingering on you, having to force them away every now and then to keep from looking like some lovesick puppy.
"Yeah. You really inspired me, you know? Well, you and your brother," you quickly corrected, blushing as your eyes darted to the swirl of milk in your coffee. Discussing colour themes for the upcoming wedding was quickly overlooked as you two fell into light chatter, occasionally flirting here and there.
"Well, you've really got a gift, love," he smiled fondly, checking the time with wide eyes to see that he was an hour late for work.
"I better get going. Fred will have my head if I stay any longer," he chuckled, collecting his mug along with his plate full of crumbs and assisting you in bringing them up to the front counter.
"I'll see you tomorrow, yeah? Erm, Ginny was hoping that I could help her with taste-testing!" he added, forgetting, for a moment, that your visits revolved around the upcoming ceremony.
"Yes, of course! I hope you like chocolate," you giggled, wiping down the counter as you waved goodbye and watched him exit into the pouring street. He turned back and smiled at you through the window before making his way towards his seething twin who waited just down the road.
You found yourself smiling as you collected Joice's dishes, unable to ignore the butterflies that went wild in your stomach.
"He's got a thing for you, dear. I can tell," the elderly woman giggled, wiggling her eyebrows at both you and Lucy, who blushed beneath her stare.
"Oh!" You smiled, eyes wide and cheeks pink as you shook your head, attempting to clean up as quickly as you could. "I'm flattered, really, but I think you've got the wrong idea."
"My eyes may have gone bad years ago, darling, but I know young love when I see it."
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It had been weeks of morning tea and evening strolls since George first entered your cinnamon-scented shop, becoming quite a regular over the last month. You were currently walking side-by-side the infamous twin, a laugh escaping your lips as you chatted about the upcoming event that was sure to leave his mother in tears. He had just finished filling you in on the other gingers he called family, including the famous wizard that would soon be wed to his sister. He assured you that once Harry became part of the Weasleys, he would no longer be safe from their pranks, causing you to scoff at their brotherly love but laugh nonetheless.
"Oh, leave the poor boy alone," you chuckled, missing the way George's eyes lit up at the sound of your laughter.
"Yeah, well, I guess we could cut him some slack. You know, for saving the whole world and all," he shrugged, looking down at the floor shyly but being unable to stop himself from glancing back up at you. He couldn't help but focus on the way your skin glowed from beneath the setting sun.
"You're coming, aren't you? To the wedding, I mean?" he spoke hopefully, a sudden waver in his tone that was normally as smooth as honey. You took notice of the way his eyes peered into yours - no longer cheerful, however, as they seemed pleading; as though he longed for a particular answer.
"Well, of course I'm coming, George. I have to serve the cake!" you smiled, forcing yourself to gaze into his deep, caramel eyes despite the urge you had to look away. You noticed the way his expression had not changed, his eyes still burning into yours.
"Would you like to come with me?" he suddenly spoke, a gentle smile now gracing his lips as he shifted from foot to foot. "You've done so much for us all, and I know mum would go mad if she knew that you were never invited."
Your cheeks heated up at the request - your eyes wide and mouth agape - utterly shocked that the ginger who had invaded your dreams was now offering you his hand at his sister's wedding. Maybe it was his nervous tone or the way his ears burnt red, but something about the invite seemed a lot more serious than a thoughtful favour.
"Are you sure? I wouldn't want to impose," you smiled softly, recognizing the way his gaze had fallen - as though he had been rejected.
"No, not at all! I - Ginny would love to have you there," he finished, scratching the back of his head awkwardly. He hoped to Merlin that you had not caught onto his awful save, no matter how poorly it may have been hidden.
"Well, as long as the bride is okay with it," you smiled, turning your gaze from his to the apartment building before you where you spent every night in Muggle London.
"See you at the wedding!" you blushed, waving happily as you made your way through the front door, a pair of golden keys quickly replacing your elm wand. Yet, as you unlocked your front door and rested on the countertop in your small kitchen, you burst into girlish laughter at the realization of what had happened, excited for the days yet to come.
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"Wow," George sighed as he entered the oh-so-familiar café. His eyes were caught in a daze as they traced the figure of the beautiful girl before him. You were clad in a soft pink, the trail of your dress floating in the light, morning breeze that slipped through the doorway. Your nude heels clicked against the floor as you gave him a little spin, smiling sheepishly as you noticed his mouth fall open.
"Why thank you, George," you giggled, patting down the soft fabric of your dress as you took your own time to admire the lovable red-head before you. His suit was much less lively than it usually was, showcasing a simple bow tie from beneath a classy, navy dress-robe. Being part of the wedding party meant that the typically charismatic twin had to dial down his charm. But of course, this didn't work very well, as the blush on your skin managed to deepen from beneath your makeup.
"And what a beautiful cake!" George gasped, sporting a clumsy smile as he watched your head roll back in laughter. The noise was one he hoped to hear all night as he watched you attempt to block the delicious 3-tiered dessert from behind you, claiming that so much as a look from any guests before the wedding would cause for bad luck.
"Bad luck? Darling, I think it's safe to say that nothing you bake can turn out bad," George chuckled, eying the cake behind you with a curious glint in his eyes as you proceeded to place it into an elegant travel box. He thought it was sweet that you cared so deeply about what your customers would think. He knew, however, not to doubt your talent - especially after being lucky enough to taste every one of your delicious desserts.
His hand brushed with yours for the first of many times that day, causing electricity to shoot through your bones. But, as he took your hand gently and waved happily at the smirking employee behind the till, he apparated both you and the cake to Ottery St. Catchpole where a family of gingers awaited your arrival.
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Pale, orange tent walls lined the Burrow's vast yard as well-dressed witches and wizards gathered for the union of the Potter and Weasley family. The Weird Sisters were stationed in the corner of the beautifully crafted hall, a touch both the bride and groom felt was needed. And as old and young couples alike enjoyed the food before them while congratulating the happy newlyweds, you were glad to hear many guests fawn over the cake you worked hard to prepare over the weeks.
George sighed as he swigged back his glass, eyes trained on you in the middle of the swarming dance floor as you chatted happily with Ginny and her wedding guests. She had been very pleased when the beautifully decorated, salted caramel cake made its way to the dessert table. After all, it was her plan to set the two of you up - after a little convincing from Fred, of course. But as George stood on the sidelines, smiling dreamily as he admired you and your addicting smile, he was reminded that the two of you were still nothing more than friends - even if he thought of you as so much more.
"What'ya doing, Georgie?" Fred's voice rang, pulling him out of his thoughts as he dove back into the slice of cake before him. Ron, Lee, and Charlie were quick to join in on the gossip as all three were aware of the rumours floating around George's love life - specifically, the girl who had made her way into his heart.
"George, mate. Just ask her to dance!" his elder brother chuckled, clearly a little tipsy as he swung back another one of his many glasses.
"Yeah, what's holding you back?" Lee piped in, swinging an arm over his friend's shoulder while sneakily inching him closer to the dancefloor.
"Do you really think she would say yes?" George wondered, wiping his sweaty palms against his trousers while pulling at the bow around his neck. Even after years of running a bustling joke shop, nothing compared to the way you made his heart beat out of his chest.
"There's only one way to find out!"
And before George knew it, he was shoved into your side, eyes wide as he caught the smirking faces of Ginny and Luna.
"Oh, hi there, George!" you greeted, smiling shyly as your cheeks burnt red. His suit-jacket was left at one of the many elegant tables, leaving him in a dashing white button-up.
"Would you care to dance?" he suddenly spoke, glancing nervously at the giggling gingers who were watching from across the room. Even Fleur, who sat with her husband and one-year-old daughter, smiled giddily as she took in the sight of you.
"Of course," you smiled timidly, following his lead as he linked his left hand with yours, both avoiding each other's gaze as the room began to feel warmer.
George smiled as the two of you fell into a steady rhythm, swaying side-to-side while joining in on light chatter. He was relieved to hear a laugh escape your lips as you grew more comfortable from within his arms, allowing your hand to relax in his as he happily twirled you around.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" you sighed, gazing behind him where you found Molly and Arthur waltzing happily in the centre of the crowd - quite a contrast from the heavy tears they once shed as they watched their only daughter leave the nest.
"You mean my mum's dancing?" George barked, smirking as you laughed and hit his chest playfully, causing his ears to burn red.
"No! I mean, look how in love they are!" you giggled, missing the way George's eyes softened at your words. He couldn't help but feel his heart swell, basking in the mere idea of sharing a love like theirs with you.
"Yeah, well, us Weasley men are quite the charmers," George shrugged, a smug smile gracing.
"Is that so?" you mocked, failing to hide your smile as you felt his grip tighten around you. "Anyone you fancy using it on?"
"There is this one girl," he began, feeling his heart rate pick up to match the rowdy pace of his words. "She's beautiful, and smart, and unbelievably gifted."
Despite your smile, your heart sank as he spoke so fondly of this perfect girl. Although you had hoped that it was you, the chance felt slim at the thought of any other girl catching his eye.
"She sounds special," you smiled weakly, looking down at your shoes before glancing back up into his chestnut eyes, noticing the way they seemed lost in yours.
"She is. And she makes the most amazing chocolate cake," he grinned, softly tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as his face inched closer to yours, planting a gentle kiss on your rosy cheek.
Your eyes went wide at the realization, a smile immediately gracing your lips.
"You're a real sweetheart, you know that?" he sighed, forehead practically touching yours as soft music continued to play in the background. If it wasn't for your spiralling mind, you would have heard the gasping gingers from across the room.
"Even sweeter than my cupcakes?" you joked, feeling your face grow hot as he tugged you closer. Your senses were on overdrive, completely overwhelmed by the proximity between you.
He chuckled, humming before pressing a soft kiss to your lips.
"Even sweeter than your cupcakes, love."
"It's time for the bouquet toss!" Hermione giggled, grabbing hold of your wrist as she excitedly pulled you toward the swarm of desperate witches. You caught on to the way she sent Ronald Weasley a cheeky wink, causing his face to flush pink.
Shaking your head playfully, you smiled as George chuckled at the sight of you, sipping on his glass of champagne as Ginny counted down with a bouquet of tulips in hand.
"Looks like we may have another wedding to prepare for," Molly giggled, wrapping her arms around her son as he chuckled at the sudden affection, knowing his mother longed for some comfort after a long and emotional day.
"Don't get too ahead of yourself, mum," George grinned, happily embracing his mother as a tear dripped down her cheek. She admired her beautiful clan of gingers as though she knew that things would never be the same.
Some day, he thought to himself, laughing along with his mother as the bouquet flew over every gasping head before landing directly into your open arms.
Some day.