The baker and the potion master

Chapter two: tabloid scones and meltdowns

Severus stopped at the newsstand on his way to Deathly Confections. He purchased a Daily Prophet. His subscription had expired a year ago and he hadn't bothered to renew it. After all, they hadn't improved in quality or substance. Severus only purchased it on occasion to see what outlandish things they reported on lately.

Like today.

In big bold capital letters, the headline caught the Potion Master's eye. It read:

CHOSEN ONE SEEN AT SEEKERS AND BEATERS. NEW ROMANCE WITH QUIDDITCH STAR DAVID, BEATER FOR THE CHUDLEY CANNONS! (Details Inside!)
Below, Potter was pictured mid-kiss with David, a burly man.

Severus snorted, a scowl on his lips. It seemed just as things changed, others stayed the same. Potter still sought attention. His need for the spotlight stuck out like a too bright Lumos. Why else would Potter flaunt his sexual escapades in front of everyone?

Why else would he display his preferences in front of everyone?

Severus wasn't jealous. Not at all.

He didn't think Potter looked lovely with a blush on his cheeks or the delicate lashes fluttering over his eyes. Certainly not.

"They look ridiculous together. Is that brute kissing him or trying to devour Potter's face?" Severus muttered, tempted to throw the news rag away.

Folding it with a crisp snap, Severus pocketed it instead. He might need to renew his subscription. He wanted to see how long Potter would continue this fling.

"What rubbish. Why should I care what that entitled brat is doing?" Severus entered the bakery, just doors down from his shop.

Its decor was soft blue and green. Little tables dotted the checkerboard floor. An expansive counter and display case provided a wide variety of treats. Silver stencils dotted the counter. Upon inspection, Severus realized that they were the Deathly Hallows. On the case front, a frosted version etched its way across the glass. He arched an eyebrow at its prominence.

It was certainly a bold decoration choice.

The baked goods on silver and white dishes looked as professionally done as the custard he had received the night before—and as delectable. Severus spotted that they also provided tea and coffee. The rich aroma of the beverages brewing wafted through the space, giving it a welcoming warmth. He breathed it in as it banished the morning fog in his mind.

A large beefy man stood behind the counter, assisting the customer ahead of Severus. He had heavy jowls and piggy eyes. A friendly smile crossed his face as he thanked the woman for her purchases. A small woman emerged from the back, saying something to the man. Severus surmised that he must be the master baker by how she deferred to him.

The man nodded, waving her away. He looked up, his expression morphing from polite greeting to astonishment. His small eyes widened comically, almost bulging. A ruddy blush flushed his fat cheeks. A broad smile broke over his large face. He approached, bouncing on the balls of his feet like an overeager puppy greeting a returning master.

Severus narrowed his eyes, knowing he had never seen this man before. He supposed his reputation must have preceded him yet again. Damn Potter, he thought to himself. If the sodding Savior of the Wizarding World hadn't turned him into a celebrity this way, he'd be able to visit this bakery in peace and sweet anonymity. Severus folded his arms across his chest, and his back straightened. Severus detested the hero-worship almost as much as the revulsion.

All he wanted was some damn breakfast.

"Welcome to Deathly Confections, sir." The honorific had great emphasis. It unnerved Severus. "What can I get you?"