Every time Harry Potter returns to Magical England, he feels like a time traveler. He grew up here, but it feels like a time capsule sealed decades ago. It looks exactly the same as when he was a child - the same brick buildings lining the dozen side streets, and the same railway leading to Hogsmeade. Sure, there are cell towers and satellite antennas visible even near Hogwarts, but they all serve as reminders of the present times.
After completing his education at Hogwarts fifteen years ago and moving to the USA, Harry has been living there ever since. He used to come back home roughly once a year for Christmas, until his godfather passed away two years ago. This time, he came to discuss the future of the family bakery with Sirius's children.
The traffic on Main Street in Hogsmeade is unusually slow, and he takes a route that he rarely uses. When he catches sight of Hogwarts, he can't help but slow down, despite the warning voice in his head. He has avoided being near his school for years, and the end-of-year ball was the last time he was there. But the green lawn dotted with oak trees enters his peripheral vision, whether he likes it or not, forcing him to hit the brakes and turn his head.
His eyes search for a place he couldn't erase from his memory, no matter how hard he tried. It doesn't take him long to spot the school crest painted on the building and the large oak tree right beside it. A mix of emotions instantly overwhelms him - it was under that tree where he first kissed Daphne Greengrass, his first girlfriend. Later, it became their favorite spot for rendezvous. He can't even count how many times Daphne made him reach ecstasy with her mouth right there, and he still remembers the twinkle in her eyes as she exclaimed his name on prom night, telling him that she would forever be his.
The memory of those carefree times initially fills him with longing, but then sadness and anger take over. Just a few months after starting college in the USA, Daphne broke up with him and married someone else.
Knowing that he wouldn't be able to continue with the emotional turmoil, Harry stops right by the campus and leans against the fence to catch his breath. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath to calm himself, while trying to push away the memory of the blue-eyed blonde who captivated his heart when he first saw her. Daphne's family supported the Order of the Phoenix in its darkest times. He still remembers the moment he saw the shy, slender girl standing in front of him and the Weasleys, wearing a buttoned-up white shirt and a pleated knee-length skirt. Her formal attire immediately set her apart from the casually dressed kids, and he couldn't take his eyes off her. He didn't even hear half of Dumbledore's introduction because he was too busy observing her. He had an overwhelming desire to touch her silky hair and rosy cheeks, not to mention her long legs. He also longed to taste her thin, glossy lips. Damn, he had never kissed a girl before, but he knew perfectly well how sweet Daphne's lips tasted. He must have stared at her like an idiot because her eyes landed on him after a quick glance at the whole group of teenagers, and she blinked. Okay, he could have imagined that blink, but he was definitely in love back then.
Kissing those lips took him another year, as Daphne was shy, if not distant. Her family didn't blend well with the community. Daphne's mother came from a highly traditional pure-blood family, while her father had equally pure blood but more liberal views.
If it weren't for their relentless Potions teacher, Severus Snape, Harry might never have had a chance or the courage to talk to Daphne. Snape made them repeatedly fix the potions ruined by previous years, and Daphne, who hated Potions, had Neville's cauldron explode and the faulty potion spilled on her. Without hesitation, Harry carried her to the school nurse, and on the way back, she kissed him under the oak tree. The memories sparked in his mind like scenes from a movie, along with the blissful joy and excitement that were buried with them.
He thought he was the happiest guy on Earth during their courtship year, and when it ended, he was the most miserable. It took him some time to come to terms with Daphne's departure. Looking back, it was all childish. But this experience made him realize that love wasn't everything, as he naively thought. Daphne married a magical livestock breeder who supplied meat directly to her father's restaurant and later paid off his debts as well. In other words, she married for money.
Harry was down in the dumps for many months. He returned home immediately upon hearing the news, but he could do little as Daphne wasn't even at home or her father's restaurant. She had moved out and settled on her husband's ranch. He couldn't exactly remember how he managed to pick himself up, but he certainly owed it to his family, especially Susan, Sirius's daughter.
His phone buzzed with an incoming message, interrupting his train of thoughts. He took a deep breath and checked the message – damn. It was a message from Susan.
"Are you almost here? I baked your favorite cream puffs."
He smiled when he saw the picture: round, golden-brown cream puffs. His stomach growled with hunger. Damn it. He left most of his lunch untouched at the Ministry's cafeteria.
He pushed himself off the fence and continued on. Just before taking two steps, he heard a girl singing. Damn it. She sounded exactly like Daphne. He must have misheard. But a second later, the blonde girl emerged from the school building, carrying a bag of books on her shoulders. He froze. He couldn't see her face clearly, let alone the color of her eyes. But the fair complexion, long straight blond hair, and tall, slender figure belonged to Daphne Greengrass. Was he hallucinating? His heart leapt into his throat when a skinny guy in a white baseball cap caught up to her. "Hey Mia, wanna fly with me on a broomstick?"
He took a deep breath. Silly old man. Of course, it wasn't Daphne. That girl is at most eighteen. Besides, long blond hair and slender bodies are nothing uncommon among teenage girls in town.
He hurried ahead, distancing himself as quickly as he could from Hogwarts while simultaneously pushing the past out of his mind.
He reached the center of the village, now a small town where Bruno's bakery is located. He spent many weekends there during his childhood, helping out in the family business, and unlike his adopted step-brother, Neville, he enjoyed baking. It's almost five in the afternoon, close to the bakery's closing time. The square isn't crowded.
Harry barely makes it to the square when the aroma of baked goods wafts into his nostrils, causing his stomach to growl. The bakery doors swing open before he can reach them, and a petite brunette barrels into him. He grabs her arms to steady her. The familiar scent of milk, yeast, and herbs instantly tells him who she is – his adopted sister as well.
"Susan, are you okay? Where are you headed?" he asks, loosening his grip and stepping back to get a better look at her. She still looks the same: large eyes that appear hazel one moment and brown the next, depending on the lighting. Pouty lips, a defiant chin, and high cheekbones.
Susan gasps as she meets his gaze. "Oh my God, Harry! You're finally here. I've been waiting for this forever!" She then pulls him into a tight hug, pressing her plump breasts against him and resting her head on his shoulder. Images of her pair of golden melons bouncing above her flat stomach and wide hips flash in his mind, and his erection twitches despite his efforts to stay put. Damn it. Not again. Why does he always feel like a horny teenager whenever he's near Susan?
He steps back and takes a deep breath to rid himself of the dirty thoughts he's been wrestling with for years. "I'm sorry, but ministry matters always take longer," he says to her. "Is there any event happening?"
Susan blinks for a moment. "Oh, that's probably the tourists. They opened a hot springs resort right near the Forbidden Forest."
"No kidding," he mutters, recalling the forest where Hagrid took them on a camping trip when they were young. "I guess it's good for the local business."
Susan shrugs. "Probably. The shops on Main Street have certainly gotten busier. But the tours usually don't make it to the market."
"That's a shame," he says.
"I have to go to the market for strawberries," Susan changes the subject. "I was supposed to do it this morning, but I didn't get a chance. I was planning to do it on my way back home, but Gregory said he won't hold them for me any longer. You know what a grump he is. Go inside and have a seat. Help yourself to the cream puffs and coffee. I'll be right back, little brother."
"Yeah, sure, mom," he says, rolling his eyes. Susan is actually a month younger than him, but she always acts like the older sister. After their stepmother's death, Susan took on the role of the homemaker. She took care of the bakery and later their ailing adopted father without any complaints.
Harry closes the door behind him and enters the bakery. Inside, there are no customers, and he once again succumbs to his nostalgia. Susan hasn't changed the store decor at all. The same wooden tables and chairs, the same display cases and shelves filled with the same pastries: ciabatta loaves, brioches, cannoli, and buttery cookies.
On the wall behind the counter hangs a framed article from the local newspaper with a picture of his grandparents. The title of the article is "A Slice of Magic in Bread." His eyes focus on the picture as if he hasn't seen it a million times. His grandfather is wearing a baker's uniform, and beside him stands his grandmother in a summer dress, cradling his godfather as a baby. He stares at the photo, fighting back tears. Both his grandfather and godfather dedicated their entire lives to the bakery, striving to bake truly magical pastries. It's a small, nameless place known only to the townsfolk, but it supported him and his adopted siblings throughout his journey at Hogwarts. He remembers learning to bake when he was only six years old, and he recalls how proud Sirius was when he baked his first brioche.
He had contemplated skipping his education and becoming a baker like his godfather, but the old man was adamant about his schooling. Sure, he also loved runes and transfiguration, but deep down, he preferred baking. It was calming and fulfilling for him, not to mention the tangible results. If he hadn't broken up with Daphne, maybe he would have returned home after studying in the USA and taken over the family business. But Daphne's loss made him realize that money, not love, determines happiness. If their family were wealthy, Daphne could have married him... Damn it. Not again.
Seeing the tray of cream puffs on the kitchen table, he doesn't hesitate to step inside, grab one, and shove it into his mouth. Mmmm. Susan has truly mastered the art of pastry baking. The woman knows how to maintain a crispy shell and a melt-in-your-mouth cream.
The heavenly moment is interrupted by a crash. He swallows the bite and listens. Someone is cursing in the storeroom next to the kitchen. What the hell? Why didn't Susan mention that someone else is working here? He heads to the storeroom to check if everything is okay.
There's a knock on the door. "Is everything okay?"
"Yes! Yes!" the woman responds.
But soon after saying that, he hears more crashing sounds. It seems like she knocked over a few baking sheets. He doesn't hesitate to push the door open and enter the room. Before he can fully comprehend the scene, he is greeted first by the sweet smell of alcohol, and then by a pair of large milk buns in a silky beige bra. The rest of her body is clad in a matching pair of panties. His jaw drops, and his eyes linger on the deep snowy valley for a moment longer before he swallows and lifts his gaze. Startled blue eyes stare back at him, ruby lips parted in equal astonishment.
Holy fuck. He curses. "Daphne? Am I hallucinating again? But there's no mistaking those pale and translucent irises with the golden flecks around the pupils. Damn it, those eyes often transported him to heaven, along with her silky lips. More beautiful than in high school? Her cheeks are still plump, not sagging in the slightest. Her curves are fuller, but she's far from being fat. Her slender teenage body was perfect, but the mature hourglass figure in front of him is even more enticing. In fact, she looks like a Penthouse model who took a wrong turn on her way to a photo shoot and ended up in a place she doesn't belong. He always thought she was too good to be true when they were together, as if she was his by mistake.
Harry gazes at Daphne, and his intense stare makes her tremble. Instinctively, he reaches out and places his hand on her shoulder, feeling an electric current course through his body as he touches her silky skin. He pauses for a moment, then rubs his thumb against her shoulder, causing a moan to escape from her throat. She doesn't resist his touch, but he resists the temptation to slide his hand lower or bury his face in her alluring cleavage. He despises himself for still desiring her after all these years and the pain she inflicted upon him.
Gripping her shoulder, making her flinch, Harry speaks sharply, "How dare you show up in my life and work in my bakery, Daphne, after what you've done to me?"
Daphne nervously licks her lips and responds with a trembling voice, "I'm sorry, Harry, but Susan told me you had moved on and wouldn't mind."
His anger momentarily wavers as he recalls Susan's meddling. "Susan, that meddling sister of mine," he mutters. Then, his anger resurfaces. "But that doesn't give you the right to barge back into my life without a warning, Daphne. You left me shattered. Do you have any idea how much pain I went through?"
Tears start welling up in Daphne's eyes, her voice quivering even more. "I... I never meant to hurt you that much, Harry. It was a mistake, a terrible mistake. I thought I was doing what was best for both of us."
He tightens his grip on her shoulder, his voice cold and cutting. "Best for both of us? Breaking my heart was best for us? I don't think so, Daphne. You moved on and got married. You made your choice. Now, I suggest you leave and never come back."
Daphne's lower lip trembles, and she takes a step back. "I... I understand. I'll leave. But please know that I never stopped loving you, Harry. I never stopped regretting what I did."
He releases his grip on her shoulder and watches as she walks away, the weight of their shared past heavy in the air. As she reaches the door, she turns to look at him one last time, her eyes filled with sorrow. Then, without another word, she exits the bakery, leaving him to grapple with the tangled emotions that her unexpected return has stirred up.