Lemonade Days
Title: Lemonade Days
Rating: PG 13
Word Count: 1,700
Author's notes: Written for hd_pots_n_porn's prompt: Frozen Drinks.
Summary: Harry and Draco 'help' Rose run her lemonade stand.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. This was written for fun, not profit.
Harry struggled with the rickety plank for all of two hours before giving into reason and casting a quick Assembly Spell.
“There,” he finally announced, dusting his hands off with a satisfied air. “All done, Rosie.”
Rosie squealed in delight and bounced over to view his handiwork. Harry chuckled to himself as his little niece inspected her new lemonade stand with utmost seriousness.
Rosie nodded in satisfaction and added the final touch- a giant placard with ‘LEMINADE, 5 SIKLES’ scrawled over it in sparkly, pink letters.
“It’s perfect!” Rose announced happily. “Thank you, Uncle Harry!”
Harry grinned and scrubbed a hand through his sweaty hair. Rose’s little projects took a lot out of him but it was worth it to see that smile on her face. She was always so curious and determined to try things out on her own. Just like her mum, Harry thought fondly. As Favourite Uncle and Designated Best Babysitter Ever, Harry took great care to encourage her creativity.
More than once, Hermione and Ron had returned home, only to find Rose and Harry knee-deep in glitter and cardboard. Their teasing aside, Harry loved every minute of it and he wouldn’t change a thing.
“You’re sure you don’t need any help making the lemonade, Rose?” he offered.
“No, Uncle Harry,” Rose replied patiently, placing a large jug on the stand and dropping a few lemon slices in it. “I got Grammy’s recipe right here.”
“And do you have ice?” Harry asked. It was a hot day and he would have gladly sold his Firebolt for a frozen drink. Rose would make a killing out here.
“I know how to make lemonade, Uncle Harry,” Rose informed him with a put upon sigh. “But you can squeeze some lemons if you want to help.”
Oh, good. He could finally be useful. Harry reached out for a lemon wedge, only for Rose to wave him off indignantly.
“Wash your hands first!” she scolded.
Harry stifled his chuckle, gave a mock salute and left her to her devices.
He washed his hands in record time and took a quick detour to his kitchen. He grabbed a dozen more lemons, another bag of ice (you could never have too much ice on a day like this), two jugs of fresh water...
****
By the time Harry made it back from the kitchen, he could hear voices. He stopped short as he noted the telltale clink-clink of Sickles being tossed on the counter. Harry practically beamed with pride.
Rosie’s very first customer!
Harry smiled and decided to let her have her moment. He hung back to listen.
“And when someone gives you a Galleon, what do you say?” the bloke was asking.
“Sorry, no change. Would you like another glass?” Rose parroted obediently.
“Good girl. You’ll do just fine.”
Wait, what?
Harry’s jaw dropped and he hurried outside, only to have his suspicions confirmed.
Malfoy was hanging around indolently, holding a plastic cup full of icy lemonade and instilling fraudulent business practices in his sweet, wholesome little niece. Harry scowled at the sight.
“Now, about pricing,” Malfoy went on. “Five Sickles is decent, but on a hot day like this? You could double your rates without affecting net profit. Ten Sickles a glass, no question. And throw in some ice for an extra Knut or two. I’m telling you, in this economy...”
Harry had heard enough. “Oi!” he snapped, marching up.
Malfoy started, nearly spilling his lemonade. He caught sight of Harry and his brow arched in a scowl. “Oh, wonderful,” he grumbled. “Here comes the DMLE.”
“Uncle Harry!” Rose chirped happily. “Draco's teaching me how to increase profitability.”
She said those last two words very carefully and turned to Malfoy for confirmation. Harry could have sworn his eyes brightened as he nodded approvingly at her. A trick of the light, most likely. Or perhaps, Malfoy was reacting to the sunlight and preparing to turn into a bat again.
At any rate, Harry wasn’t standing for this. He levelled a dark glare in Malfoy’s general direction. “I think the correct term is extortion, Rosie,” he bit out.
“Hey!” Malfoy snapped indignantly. “That’s a legitimate sales tactic, Scarhead.”
Harry rolled his eyes and turned to the little girl, resolutely ignoring Malfoy. “Sweetheart, the first rule of business is good ethics,” he told her firmly. “Now, a lot of people who don’t care about others might tell you differently, but if you want repeat customers, you have to treat them right, okay?”
Rose’s brow furrowed. “So, I shouldn’t try to make more money?” she asked, sounding puzzled.
“Well, of course but...”
Malfoy scoffed. “Potter, this young lady is trying to run a business. Stop confusing her with your do-good nonsense,” he sneered. “Rose, I’ve been selling Potions for five years. I raise my prices all the time and my customers keep coming back. Who are you going to listen to- a successful businessman or some lout who clubs people over the head for a living?”
“That’s not what Aurors do!” Harry informed him angrily. “And stop teaching my niece how to fleece people, you two Knut swindler!”
“Excuse me?” Malfoy growled. “I’m a successful businessman, Potter, and I will not be spoken to like that!”
Harry’s inner twelve year old was screaming for retribution at this point. “I’m a successful businessman, I’m a successful businessman,” he mimicked in a high pitched voice. “Hey Malfoy, I forgot to ask. What do you do for a living? Are you a successful businessman, by any chance?”
Malfoy slammed his cup down on the counter and took a menacing step forward. “You want to take this outside, Potter?”
“We are outside, idiot!” Harry snarled, barging into Malfoy’s space.
They were almost at each others’ throats now. Malfoy’s eyes were flashing and Harry’s teeth were bared. They would most certainly have come to blows right there in the Harry’s front lawn, if it wasn’t for the tiny Voice of Reason.
“Excuse me,” Rose snapped, stepping between them. “But you’re scaring away all my customers!”
Harry blinked in surprise. He had forgotten all about Rose in the face of Malfoy’s gittishness. His little niece was glaring disapprovingly at him now. Harry cleared his throat and stepped back, feeling rather embarrassed by his behaviour. Malfoy looked rather chagrined himself.
“Sorry,” he muttered, shoving his hands in his pockets and looking away. “I was just trying to help.”
Harry felt even worse. He scuffed his shoes awkwardly and mumbled an apology. “I’m sorry too,” he offered. “I got carried away.”
Malfoy sniffed and crossed his arms. Evidently, the apology was not accepted but at least he wasn’t making it worse. For Rose’s sake, Harry was grateful.
Rose, as a matter of fact, looked rather happy. “I think I know what to do now,” she announced.
Harry exchanged a glance with Malfoy. Malfoy shrugged.
“You do?” Harry asked uneasily. “And you won’t take advantage of your customers?”
“While maintaining a decent profit to sales ratio?” Malfoy added at once.
Honestly, Harry could have decked him.
Rose favoured them both with an exasperated glance. “I know what to do,” she repeated in a tone that brooked no argument.
Harry nodded obediently. That was Hermione Granger’s daughter, alright.
“I’m sure you do,” Malfoy agreed. He flashed a small smile at Harry’s surprised expression and shrugged. Harry smiled back tentatively and came to a decision. This was about Rose, after all.
“How can I help?”
Rose handed him a bowl. “We need more syrup,” she informed him. “Will you help me make some, Uncle Harry?”
Harry couldn’t have said no if he tried. “I’d love to,” he said, pressing a kiss to Rose’s head.
Malfoy was still hanging around, looking somewhat uncomfortable. “I guess I’ll just go then,” he muttered, turning to walk away.
“Wait!” Harry blurted on instinct.
Malfoy stilled and turned around again, uncertainty flitting across his face. For some reason, Harry’s heart clenched at the sight. “We could use another pair of hands,” he offered carefully.
Malfoy’s expression brightened and he padded back at once. “What can I do?”
“Start slicing,” Rose ordered, handing him a lemon. “We’re going to be in business very soon.”
****
Two hours later, Harry and Draco were hard at work while Rose managed the counter. They had come up with a system of sorts and Harry was pleased to see that under Rose’s gentle leadership, Draco actually made a diligent employee. Plus, in the middle of the slicing and pouring and mixing, they’d had time to really talk.
Draco was quite witty and charming, once you got past that prickly exterior. Harry was really considering asking him out.
“I need two more glasses!” Rose called from the counter.
“On it!” Draco called, efficiently slicing another lemon wedge and dunking it in Harry’s syrup water.
Over at the counter, little Terry Brandt from across the street was conversing seriously with Rose. Harry nudged Draco and they paused for a moment, watching with interest.
“I only have four Sickles,” Terry lamented. “C’mon Rose, I let you borrow my toy broomstick that one time! Can’t we cut a deal?”
“I’m sorry, Terry,” Rose said firmly. “I don’t do discounts.”
Harry frowned and started to get up, but Draco pulled him back down. “It’s her stall, Harry,” he whispered. “Let her handle it.”
“But,” Rose went on, “if you tell Billy, Rob and Susie about my lemonade stand, I’ll give you a free glass. Deal?”
Terry nodded eagerly and ran off to spread the word. Harry grinned proudly and even Draco looked impressed. “I’ll be damned,” he drawled. “She could teach me a few things.”
“That’s my girl,” Harry chuckled, pouring out two glasses and handing one to Draco. Business was booming, but there was time for a small celebration.
Draco raised his glass in a toast and tossed it back in one go. Harry’s gaze drifted to that pale, slim throat and bobbing adam's apple, transfixed by the sultry sight. Draco sighed in relief. His lashes fluttered and his tongue darted out to trace the sugar from his lips. Harry swallowed and adjusted himself discreetly.
Not discreetly enough though, because Draco’s eyes landed on him. He froze for a moment and then his lips stretched in a sly, sexy grin. Grey eyes ran the length of Harry’s body approvingly. Harry’s pulse raced as Draco licked his lips again.
“So, Potter,” he purred. “What are you doing after work?”
Rating: PG 13
Word Count: 1,700
Author's notes: Written for hd_pots_n_porn's prompt: Frozen Drinks.
Summary: Harry and Draco 'help' Rose run her lemonade stand.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. This was written for fun, not profit.
Harry struggled with the rickety plank for all of two hours before giving into reason and casting a quick Assembly Spell.
“There,” he finally announced, dusting his hands off with a satisfied air. “All done, Rosie.”
Rosie squealed in delight and bounced over to view his handiwork. Harry chuckled to himself as his little niece inspected her new lemonade stand with utmost seriousness.
Rosie nodded in satisfaction and added the final touch- a giant placard with ‘LEMINADE, 5 SIKLES’ scrawled over it in sparkly, pink letters.
“It’s perfect!” Rose announced happily. “Thank you, Uncle Harry!”
Harry grinned and scrubbed a hand through his sweaty hair. Rose’s little projects took a lot out of him but it was worth it to see that smile on her face. She was always so curious and determined to try things out on her own. Just like her mum, Harry thought fondly. As Favourite Uncle and Designated Best Babysitter Ever, Harry took great care to encourage her creativity.
More than once, Hermione and Ron had returned home, only to find Rose and Harry knee-deep in glitter and cardboard. Their teasing aside, Harry loved every minute of it and he wouldn’t change a thing.
“You’re sure you don’t need any help making the lemonade, Rose?” he offered.
“No, Uncle Harry,” Rose replied patiently, placing a large jug on the stand and dropping a few lemon slices in it. “I got Grammy’s recipe right here.”
“And do you have ice?” Harry asked. It was a hot day and he would have gladly sold his Firebolt for a frozen drink. Rose would make a killing out here.
“I know how to make lemonade, Uncle Harry,” Rose informed him with a put upon sigh. “But you can squeeze some lemons if you want to help.”
Oh, good. He could finally be useful. Harry reached out for a lemon wedge, only for Rose to wave him off indignantly.
“Wash your hands first!” she scolded.
Harry stifled his chuckle, gave a mock salute and left her to her devices.
He washed his hands in record time and took a quick detour to his kitchen. He grabbed a dozen more lemons, another bag of ice (you could never have too much ice on a day like this), two jugs of fresh water...
****
By the time Harry made it back from the kitchen, he could hear voices. He stopped short as he noted the telltale clink-clink of Sickles being tossed on the counter. Harry practically beamed with pride.
Rosie’s very first customer!
Harry smiled and decided to let her have her moment. He hung back to listen.
“And when someone gives you a Galleon, what do you say?” the bloke was asking.
“Sorry, no change. Would you like another glass?” Rose parroted obediently.
“Good girl. You’ll do just fine.”
Wait, what?
Harry’s jaw dropped and he hurried outside, only to have his suspicions confirmed.
Malfoy was hanging around indolently, holding a plastic cup full of icy lemonade and instilling fraudulent business practices in his sweet, wholesome little niece. Harry scowled at the sight.
“Now, about pricing,” Malfoy went on. “Five Sickles is decent, but on a hot day like this? You could double your rates without affecting net profit. Ten Sickles a glass, no question. And throw in some ice for an extra Knut or two. I’m telling you, in this economy...”
Harry had heard enough. “Oi!” he snapped, marching up.
Malfoy started, nearly spilling his lemonade. He caught sight of Harry and his brow arched in a scowl. “Oh, wonderful,” he grumbled. “Here comes the DMLE.”
“Uncle Harry!” Rose chirped happily. “Draco's teaching me how to increase profitability.”
She said those last two words very carefully and turned to Malfoy for confirmation. Harry could have sworn his eyes brightened as he nodded approvingly at her. A trick of the light, most likely. Or perhaps, Malfoy was reacting to the sunlight and preparing to turn into a bat again.
At any rate, Harry wasn’t standing for this. He levelled a dark glare in Malfoy’s general direction. “I think the correct term is extortion, Rosie,” he bit out.
“Hey!” Malfoy snapped indignantly. “That’s a legitimate sales tactic, Scarhead.”
Harry rolled his eyes and turned to the little girl, resolutely ignoring Malfoy. “Sweetheart, the first rule of business is good ethics,” he told her firmly. “Now, a lot of people who don’t care about others might tell you differently, but if you want repeat customers, you have to treat them right, okay?”
Rose’s brow furrowed. “So, I shouldn’t try to make more money?” she asked, sounding puzzled.
“Well, of course but...”
Malfoy scoffed. “Potter, this young lady is trying to run a business. Stop confusing her with your do-good nonsense,” he sneered. “Rose, I’ve been selling Potions for five years. I raise my prices all the time and my customers keep coming back. Who are you going to listen to- a successful businessman or some lout who clubs people over the head for a living?”
“That’s not what Aurors do!” Harry informed him angrily. “And stop teaching my niece how to fleece people, you two Knut swindler!”
“Excuse me?” Malfoy growled. “I’m a successful businessman, Potter, and I will not be spoken to like that!”
Harry’s inner twelve year old was screaming for retribution at this point. “I’m a successful businessman, I’m a successful businessman,” he mimicked in a high pitched voice. “Hey Malfoy, I forgot to ask. What do you do for a living? Are you a successful businessman, by any chance?”
Malfoy slammed his cup down on the counter and took a menacing step forward. “You want to take this outside, Potter?”
“We are outside, idiot!” Harry snarled, barging into Malfoy’s space.
They were almost at each others’ throats now. Malfoy’s eyes were flashing and Harry’s teeth were bared. They would most certainly have come to blows right there in the Harry’s front lawn, if it wasn’t for the tiny Voice of Reason.
“Excuse me,” Rose snapped, stepping between them. “But you’re scaring away all my customers!”
Harry blinked in surprise. He had forgotten all about Rose in the face of Malfoy’s gittishness. His little niece was glaring disapprovingly at him now. Harry cleared his throat and stepped back, feeling rather embarrassed by his behaviour. Malfoy looked rather chagrined himself.
“Sorry,” he muttered, shoving his hands in his pockets and looking away. “I was just trying to help.”
Harry felt even worse. He scuffed his shoes awkwardly and mumbled an apology. “I’m sorry too,” he offered. “I got carried away.”
Malfoy sniffed and crossed his arms. Evidently, the apology was not accepted but at least he wasn’t making it worse. For Rose’s sake, Harry was grateful.
Rose, as a matter of fact, looked rather happy. “I think I know what to do now,” she announced.
Harry exchanged a glance with Malfoy. Malfoy shrugged.
“You do?” Harry asked uneasily. “And you won’t take advantage of your customers?”
“While maintaining a decent profit to sales ratio?” Malfoy added at once.
Honestly, Harry could have decked him.
Rose favoured them both with an exasperated glance. “I know what to do,” she repeated in a tone that brooked no argument.
Harry nodded obediently. That was Hermione Granger’s daughter, alright.
“I’m sure you do,” Malfoy agreed. He flashed a small smile at Harry’s surprised expression and shrugged. Harry smiled back tentatively and came to a decision. This was about Rose, after all.
“How can I help?”
Rose handed him a bowl. “We need more syrup,” she informed him. “Will you help me make some, Uncle Harry?”
Harry couldn’t have said no if he tried. “I’d love to,” he said, pressing a kiss to Rose’s head.
Malfoy was still hanging around, looking somewhat uncomfortable. “I guess I’ll just go then,” he muttered, turning to walk away.
“Wait!” Harry blurted on instinct.
Malfoy stilled and turned around again, uncertainty flitting across his face. For some reason, Harry’s heart clenched at the sight. “We could use another pair of hands,” he offered carefully.
Malfoy’s expression brightened and he padded back at once. “What can I do?”
“Start slicing,” Rose ordered, handing him a lemon. “We’re going to be in business very soon.”
****
Two hours later, Harry and Draco were hard at work while Rose managed the counter. They had come up with a system of sorts and Harry was pleased to see that under Rose’s gentle leadership, Draco actually made a diligent employee. Plus, in the middle of the slicing and pouring and mixing, they’d had time to really talk.
Draco was quite witty and charming, once you got past that prickly exterior. Harry was really considering asking him out.
“I need two more glasses!” Rose called from the counter.
“On it!” Draco called, efficiently slicing another lemon wedge and dunking it in Harry’s syrup water.
Over at the counter, little Terry Brandt from across the street was conversing seriously with Rose. Harry nudged Draco and they paused for a moment, watching with interest.
“I only have four Sickles,” Terry lamented. “C’mon Rose, I let you borrow my toy broomstick that one time! Can’t we cut a deal?”
“I’m sorry, Terry,” Rose said firmly. “I don’t do discounts.”
Harry frowned and started to get up, but Draco pulled him back down. “It’s her stall, Harry,” he whispered. “Let her handle it.”
“But,” Rose went on, “if you tell Billy, Rob and Susie about my lemonade stand, I’ll give you a free glass. Deal?”
Terry nodded eagerly and ran off to spread the word. Harry grinned proudly and even Draco looked impressed. “I’ll be damned,” he drawled. “She could teach me a few things.”
“That’s my girl,” Harry chuckled, pouring out two glasses and handing one to Draco. Business was booming, but there was time for a small celebration.
Draco raised his glass in a toast and tossed it back in one go. Harry’s gaze drifted to that pale, slim throat and bobbing adam's apple, transfixed by the sultry sight. Draco sighed in relief. His lashes fluttered and his tongue darted out to trace the sugar from his lips. Harry swallowed and adjusted himself discreetly.
Not discreetly enough though, because Draco’s eyes landed on him. He froze for a moment and then his lips stretched in a sly, sexy grin. Grey eyes ran the length of Harry’s body approvingly. Harry’s pulse raced as Draco licked his lips again.
“So, Potter,” he purred. “What are you doing after work?”