JULY 1, 1993

"OH, JUST HURRY UP ALREADY!" Batty stomped her foot. She bore quite the resemblance to Grandma Tilly with her hands on her hips and her squiggly red hair.

"I'm coming, okay?" Billie huffed in frustration. How come her little sister was already taller than her?

"Let's go in!" Batty said eagerly, grabbing Billie's hand, deftly avoiding a few passersby and zooming towards Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor. 

Sandwiched between Flourish and Blotts and Carmelita's Cauldrons, the ice cream parlor a shock of purple-and-green wallpaper. It peeled in several places, and the front of the stoor only consisted of a disproportionally small oak door next to an enormous front window. Ribbons of gold shaped like tree branches spun around like a carousel behind the glass, with each branch holding the base of an ice cream cone. The ice cream scoops, each a different flavor, shouted out their names with squeaky voices as they passed the front of the glass. Though in reality, most of them simply argued with the other ice cream cones about which one was better.

"No, she obviously hates cookie batter, she'll want me!" yelled Black Raspberry in a shrilly tone, to Cookie Batter's indignance.

Batty shoved Billie's back through the door, and the smell of black tea, churned cream, and chocolate filled their senses. The inside of Uncle Florean's shop was a shocking juxtaposition to its charming-but-unassuming outside. Wizards and witches filled every table, with children running around, the sounds of spoons clinking filling the air, and dogs and cats taking nibbles of ice cream goblets when their owners weren't looking. 

"My little girls!" Uncle Flo said. A lively man with a red-streaked goatee, he wore a regular white apron with several multicolored ice cream stains and a checkered shirt behind it. 

"Hi, Uncle Flo," Batty said excitedly, while Billie just looked neutral as she stared away at a child pressing his face against the ice cream bar's glass cover.

"Well, come on, girls, let's see how you fit in!" he said joyously, as he led the two small children behind the counter. "Excited for your first year, Bat?"

"Oh, yes," Batty said, grabbing the biggest cup available and handing it to Uncle Flo with her caramel eyes pleading. "I've got all my books already, and Dad got me a cat! I named him Clementine, or Minty for short,"

"Is that so?" Uncle Florean chuckled, magicking an ice cream scooper to load Batty's cup with peanut butter ice cream. He then turned to Billie. "Anything for you, dear?"

Billie pursed her lips, looking down at the daily assortment of flavors. She saw her favorite, raspberry, yet she wasn't in the mood for ice cream at the moment. "No, thanks, Uncle Flo,"

"Very well," Uncle Flo chuckled again, as he led Batty by her shoulders. "You know, one day, Bat, all this will be yours,"

"Mine?" Batty said, and there they went again, on about the same conversation once more. Billie smiled. Uncle Flo had originally talked about making the parlor a shared business between the two siblings, but with Billie's repeated insistence that she did not want an ice cream shop to own, he relented, and would mostly talk about the shop with Batty.

Billie swerved around a few tables, before stopping as a smile of surprise came over her face. For in walked Mason Fowler, a Muggleborn boy that Billie met her first year at Hogwarts, and had become her best (and only) friend. 

"Billie!" he exclaimed, opening his arms as Billie barreled into him. "I knew I'd find you!"

"What are you doing here?" Billie said in confusion, breaking away from the hug. Mason's eyes crinkled against his dark skin as he smiled. "I thought you got all of your things already,"

"No," Mason rolled his eyes. "Turns out Gene forgot to buy half his supplies, so we're back again and Mum's tasked me with helping him buy them all,"

Gene was Mason's slightly bumbly twin, and, although Billie knew he did not mean it, Mason would constantly complain about him. 

"Well, why aren't you helping him, then?" Billie rolled her eyes.

"Because I'd rather be with you, of course!" he looked affronted.

"You mean, you'd rather be bribing me into getting you free ice cream?"

"Maybe,"

Billie laughed and sent Mason on his way with a mango sundae and a flick to the forehead. 

Stepping outside, the sun sliced into her eyesight with surprising force. It wasn't always completely sunny in London, so today was a rarity. She looked longingly towards Flourish and Blotts, the shop next door. Inside were books of any and every kind, about anything Billie could possibly want. Though her two favorite kinds of books were the tall tales of ancient witches and wizards.

She sighed and sat down at one of the tables in front of the ice cream parlor. How she wished she could go in there and spend the rest of the day with her nose under a book. But no, her Dad would be coming to fetch her soon, and Mum had promised to make apple tarts tonight.

"Are you alright?" a boy to her left said. Billie turned around, and there was a boy with very, very mussed hair and glasses looking concernedly at her. His hair resembled Mason's after the latter had blown up his potion one time in Snape's class.

"Yes- why?" Billie furrowed her brows as she flicked a few strands of chestnut-colored hair out of her eyes.

"Nothing," the boy shrugged, then gave her a hesitant smile. "Just wanted to be sure,"

"Well, thanks, then," Billie said. The boy sat at the largest table among the spread, and Billie could see why; he had at least eight empty ice cream goblets next to him, and the rest of the table was taken up by two mighty textbooks and three scrolls of parchment. "I'm Billie,"

"Harry," he said.

"Oh- Harry Potter?" Billie's eyes widened a little as they flicked up to his forehead.

"Um, yeah," Harry Potter said, scratching his chin sheepishly.

"Oh," Billie noticed his embarrassment. There was a moment's pause, and Billie changed the subject: "Is that History of Magic?" she pointed at the history books about witch hunts.

"Yeah. Binns' summer work," Harry said, scooting to show her the essay about witch burnings, and his current paragraph about Garth the Gross. 

I could be reading about Garth the Gross's adventures right now if I didn't have to go home soon.

"That's too bad," Billie murmured. "I'm a second year, so I don't have homework over the summer yet,"

"You're lucky," Harry said, as a flock of birds ascended from a tower above Gringotts. 

"I suppose. Well, goodbye, Harry Potter," she mused, and left her seat to head back inside.

What she found past the dining tables was an overzealous Batty staring at a silver pot churning strawberry ice cream. 

"I can't wait for when I'll be working here," Batty said longingly, red lashes blinking up at Billie.

"Sure, Bat," Billie sighed.

"You can work at Flourish and Blotts! Then we'll be next-door neighbors," Batty exclaimed.

That wouldn't be too bad. Batty could be overwhelming sometimes, just like other younger sisters, so maybe that arrangement could work out.

"Well, we'd have to get through Hogwarts first," Billie said, a small smile playing with the corners of her lips.

"Duh, but you've only got five more years to go, so you can have a head start on me," Batty scrunched her nose. "I'll be a sixth year when you leave Hogwarts,"

"True," Billie said, watching the way a ladle folded the churned ice cream over itself again and again. "We'll just have to wait and see,"