you are what you eat | nova

[Albus Severus Potter]

don't speak too soon.

april, 2028

IT ALL STARTED WITH A BOX OF FOUR GLAZED treacle tarts, and a suspected theft on Horizont Alley just the week before. Albus had been a qualified auror over a year by then. He'd earned his ruby red robes, his brass pin. And yet, he was still being sent to process a couple of terrible shoplifters. Listening as the owner droned on about a 'citizen's arrest', and Albus had to explain that he could not hex a couple of teenagers for sticking their fingers into a pick n' mix. By the time he had taken the statements and sent them back to the Ministry for processing, he'd decided not to return for the evening. He'd gone to the bakery instead. It had been a nice little shop, right on the corner between Horizont and Diagon.

A perfect mixture of crumbling brick and shiny brass signage. Al had never been inside before, but his stomach had rumbled at the smell of fresh baked goods, even at the later hour. He'd looked sour, he supposed, in retrospect. The girl behind the counter seeming to pity and tease him all at once. She'd asked why he was so tense, he'd grumbled about the stupidity of entitled business owners. Somehow, somewhere, Albus had been given a 'very special' box of treacle tarts. Not something he'd come in for, but something he'd been assured he'd needed. To relax him, he'd been told, a glint in her eye. Albus couldn't resist, he'd eaten all four before he'd even took off his robes at home. The rest, they say, was history.

That night, Albus had forgone his entire pile of paperwork and turned them all into paper planes instead, failed to memo the Ministry to confirm he'd turned in for the night, and slept for a whole 18 hours in the same red auror robes. He'd almost been reported missing by his head auror. The treacle tarts had been beyond delicious, but Albus had known the moment his head had cleared that something wasn't quite right. He'd needed to relax, sure, and it was the best sleep of his life. That didn't really matter, though. He was absolutely certain he'd inadvertently drugged himself. And he knew just how to confront about it. There had just been a weeks worth of work, petty cases, and other responsibilities that stood in his way before he could.

The embarrassment of his night of leisure stayed with him. For multiple reasons he couldn't quite come to terms with it all, so when he arrived at the Pi Patisserie just before closing, he was a little red faced. The bell twinkled above his head, senses assaulted by powdered sugar and the last dribble of customers as they took their boxes and bags. He had half a mind to confiscate the lot, stern around the mouth as he cleared his throat and kept close to the front window as he waited for the shop to clear.

"Hey..." He tried to square his shoulders, purposefully still clad in his red auror robes, his short tie a little squint from countless nervous pulls. "You probably don't remember me, but I have to have a word with you." His brows pinched, head twisting to look out the window as a gaggle of people crossed the front window with an echo of raucous laughter. "Fancy closing up first?" He hinted, almost pleading when he turned back. He'd begun drumming his fingers restlessly on the front counter, almost glaring over the hatch at the baker. At that very moment, well he could have used a very special treacle tart. 

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Nova still wasn't sure if it had been a smart thing to hand an auror a box full of weed cookies. That had to be illegal, right? Drugging a magical police officer without warning? But as the days since then went by, she seemed to be in the clear. Almost forgetting it had even taken place. The thing was, she didn't totally feel bad about it. She had known the guy was Albus Potter and that there was more than enough crazy in that family for him to definitely need what she'd handed him. Despite graduating two years before him, it wasn't like she didn't know who he was. His older brother James had been the more talked about one in her dorm room, usually leading her to tuning out the gossip. That sort of thing had never interested in her in school. Class work and exams had been more important.

Of course all of that had to change right as she was about to close up for the night. Thankfully her aunt was gone and home, and all Nova had to do was lock up and cast a few cleaning charms to get the bakery set for the next morning. What should have been her last customers were collecting their box of baked goods and change as she heard the bell above the door jingle open one final time. The scarlet auror robes that caught her eye face made her heart jump into her throat immediately. Potter told. A million thoughts jumped through her head in an instant, first wondering how she'd explain to Decima what her side gig was, and then how what she'd done technically wasn't harmful to anyone. Her palms had started to get clammy as well as she gripped onto the counter and waited to see who would be dealing with her.

Except it was Potter again, and not some other auror. Nova wasn't sure which was better. He waited for the customers to leave before speaking, asking if she'd remembered him and then if she could lock up. Nova was too nervous to answer, only nodding her head and then flicking her wand at the door and windows, locking it and pulling the curtains down respectively. They were now shrouded from the rest of Horizont Alley. "So...I'm guessing you're here to tell me I can't sell those anymore?" she asked carefully. That had to be it, right?

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[Albus Severus Potter]

don't speak too soon.

april, 2028

SHE LOOKED NERVOUS, ALBUS THOUGHT WITH very little satisfaction. Not a word spoken between them as her wand was pulled out, the shutters charmed closed and the snick of the lock giving him just a little bit of relief. Nobody need hear what he had to say next. He was supposed to be an enforcer of the law, and he couldn't even tell if his treacle tarts had been tampered with? God, what a loser, he chided himself. At the very least, she looked guilty of something.

"Oh." Albus breathed, surprised by the bakers chosen greeting. Most people who'd been caught doing something they shouldn't at least tried for denial. It had been weeks, Al could be back for anything. But, she seemed to be confessing immediately. At least, Al thought she was. "Sell what?" He asked with a short lift of his brows. His mouth, he firmed at the corners, afraid he might smirk at the frisson of nervous energy that palpated the little shop. She was not the brazen drug dealer he'd expected. In fact, all of her previous teasing and bravado was gone. Giving Al a bit of amusement he hadn't prepared for.

"Is this your shop?" He asked, switching the subject delicately as he walked the length of the bakery. Peering into the glass display and wondering if she had any treacle tarts left. "You are the one that served me last time, right?" His eyes flicked up from where he was bent over the glass. His gaze catching on the little ornate nametag pinned to the bakers chest. 'Nova', he didn't recognise it immediately. But he did recognise her. 

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Nova's experience with the Aurors was infrequent, though when they did show up in her life it was because someone close to her had died. To say she didn't know the proper procedure in which to talk to one was an understatement. That was why she immediately realized that keeping her mouth shut would probably be to her benefit here. "The Dementor donuts?" Nova immediately changed gears and lied. They both knew what she actually meant, but there had been a complaint or two throughout the day for her choice in design today. Waving her wand with an effortless flourish, the display case door opened and one of the aforementioned donuts levitated out. "I hardly think they're that offensive...maybe for some, but they taste great." Nova slid wax paper around it and held it out for Potter to take, if he wanted. At this hour, she didn't mind giving hand outs.

"My aunt's. I run it half the week though," she responded as she eyed him curiously. "So yeah, that was me that helped you last time." Because Decima never would have given out weed-laced treacle tarts. The way Potter was inspecting her display case, it made it seemed like he was scrutinizing her work. Usually customers had a different look on their face as they tried to decide what they wanted - one of curiosity and wonder over what the Vectors had cooked up for the day. The regulars always decimated the usual baked goodies in the morning, which left everyone else to have the fun ones. There were more dementor donuts left over than she'd wished, but it happened on occasion. "Is there something I can help you with?" she added as she watched him continue to gaze into her display. "Because I have to start cleaning up soon."

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[Albus Severus Potter]

don't speak too soon.

april, 2028

THE SHIFT IN TACTICS WAS ABRUPT, BUT QUITE clever. Albus stood back slightly as the display was charmed open and Nova The Baker pulled a large doughnut from near the back. Dementor Doughnuts was something he hadn't heard of before, the urge to laugh almost winning before he bit it back between his teeth. Very nearly curious enough to forget why he'd come, Albus took the doughnut when it was offered. If only to see exactly what a Dementor Doughnut was. It was... exactly as expected.

A glaze so dark it drank in the light, with two gaping smoky holes where the eyes should be. The middle hole a yawning mouth that gusted a grey, sugary smoke that immediately adhered to his fingers. It was a caricature, but it still gave a bit of pause as he examined it. "Looks..." Al cleared his throat, rubbing his sticky fingers together before placing the wax paper on the counter with a polite smile. "Pretty unappealing, to be honest." He admitted with a small smirk he couldn't quite hide.

There was a beat where they shared a look over the counter and Al stopped examining the glass to stand up straight. She'd tried diverting his attention, even insuring he knew he was on borrowed time. Al rocked on his heels, lifting his brows carefully and letting her sweat briefly. "Your aunt... she here?" He asked with a taunting little tilt to his head. It had been Nova who sold him the psychedelic treat, and Al was almost certain her aunt hadn't a clue about the 'extracurriculars' Nova was partaking in.

"Does she make the treacle tarts?" Al asked, approaching the counter to very deliberately place an arm to lean against. "Or... are they your specialty?" He asked, almost enjoying himself as he leaned into his intention with a renewed determination. Edging up against the truth with a bit of a thrill. There was nothing in particular weighing on the interaction, and he found the lack of pressure almost... fun. Of course, it was at Nova's expense. Albus promised he'd get to the point soon enough, he just wanted to see how long it would take before Nova confessed herself. 

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Nova had spent all day trying not to laugh whenever a customer picked out the dementor donut and got blasted by the sugar dusting that was inside. At first she figured it might be too chalky tasting, as most fillings tended to be jelly or crème, instead of a sudden smoke in your face. But people liked it well enough, at least by the chuckles she'd gotten out of those brave enough to try one. Potter didn't seem to want it though, which considering how 'official' he was trying to look right now, sort of made sense. The corners of her mouth turned downward into a slight frown as she picked it back up, immediately taking a large bite out of its head. Her mouth instantly filled with all of the powdered sugar, and she remembered why she'd only had the one this morning. An instant dryness as the powder adhered to every available spot in her mouth. "You sure? Its really good?" she mumbled through her words as a cloud of white puffed out. Now she looked like an idiot on top of being a drug dealer. Excellent. The report Potter wrote up was going to be one for the ages.

"No," she answered. Her body stiffened up as she realized that she hadn't evaded the questioning she knew was coming. The aurors probably would have never cared about such a thing, except she'd gone and handed over a box to Albus Potter of all people. Nova knew better, and yet here were the consequences of her actions, about to slap her silly while she was still exhaling powdered sugar like a fool. Finally, she managed to swallow what felt like most of what was coating the inside of her mouth, her tongue managing to snag everything on her cheeks. "They're made by whomever is working...so that day it would have been me." Which totally wasn't always true, considering there were days where they were both in. But those specific treacle tarts? Absolutely they'd been one of her products. Maybe even her last. "Was there something wrong with them?"

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[Albus Severus Potter]

don't speak too soon.

april, 2028

THE BITE NOVA THE BAKER TOOK WAS SPITEFUL, the demented doughnut disappearing into her mouth just as quickly as Al had discarded it onto the counter. There was grey, smokey sugar clinging to her bottom lip, but he hadn't the guts to tell her so. "Pretty sure," He muttered, watching her chew around the gummy, doughy texture. He was sure the effort was worth the taste, but he wasn't in the habit of showing himself up quite so soon. Although, when he considered the night he'd had last time he'd visited... that ship had likely sailed away.

The visible tension made Al almost hungry for a confession. Nova clammed up, her cheery, powdered sugar demeanour melting away as she stiffened in place. Her replies short and final, giving no wiggle room for Al to squeeze an extra meaning from. He'd approached the counter, fingers drumming on the top as he eyed her over it. Narrow and suspicious, he made no show of pretending he knew no better. That approach obviously hadn't worked, she'd just used it to her very own advantage. "Shame..." He mused, fingers pausing briefly. "I'd have liked her opinion on the whole matter."

Albus didn't care who Nova's aunt was, he just wondered if his suspicions were correct. Nova worked alone, and without permission. "No, they were delicious." He admitted honestly, shrugging one shoulder and dropping his gaze as he drew in a sobering breath. "Actually- nevermind, I see no point in all this." He flattened his palm on the counter and leaned forward, catching Nova's eye. "You can't sell those- those- those things to people without telling them!" He exclaimed haughtily, all guises dropping in place of his outrage. "My work- my boss, they almost reported me missing." He huffed, nostrils flaring. 

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It wasn’t like she was hiding her aunt away in some closet, bound and gagged and pretending that she was away on some sort of vacation, just to assume her identity as the owner of the bakery. No, that was more of her dear dead father’s thing. Nova liked murdering taste buds with her food, not ending people’s lives. If Albus Potter really wanted to speak to her aunt, all he had to do was stop by when she was working. Which was most likely in a day or two. But she wasn’t going to tell him that. She secretly hoped that she could get to the bottom of whatever this was before Decima returned to work. Sweep it under the table, so to speak. All she did as a response to his statement was shrug her shoulders and take another bite out of the dementor’s head. It made her feel better to aggressively chew on something.

To say it was a surprise that Potter actually liked them would be an understatement. If her mouth hadn’t been full of chocolate dough and powdered sugar, her jaw may have dropped slightly. This guy? The stiff that everyone always said was sort of boring and the antithesis of his siblings, actually liked the treacle tarts? What had once been a poor decision created by her own mischievousness now seemed to potentially have been a good one. The way he leaned in closer, as if he was telling a secret despite them both knowing what he was getting at was hilarious, and the fact that he was furious because he had liked it but it almost got him in trouble was even better. “I’m sorry,” Nova stated through a small laugh that started to bubble out after she finished chewing. “To be fair, I did say that they would relax you. I thought you knew what you were getting into.” When Decima wasn’t in, that was exactly how things worked. Not that there were code words, per se, but her usual customers would come in and ask for the special order that would help them out. Did she think Potter was one of those? Nope. Should she have warned him? Absolutely. He wasn’t wrong there.

“Can I be serious for a moment?” she asked as she tried to stifle her laugh with her hand. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have given them to you without telling you what was in them. That’s on me. First time I’ve done it, swear on Merlin’s left shoe.” It didn’t keep her laughing at bay for long, and she eventually had to put the donut down and wave her wand for a glass of water, the powdered sugar agitating a cough as it was all inhaled at the same time. “So…do you want more?” Nova asked him from behind the glass.

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[Albus Severus Potter]

don't speak too soon.

april, 2028

ALBUS WAS TRYING TO PROFESSIONAL, BUT IT was a difficult cart to pull when he was so utterly embarrassed. The whole charade of the perfect interrogator didn't even get an inch off the ground before he caved. He couldn't stand the subterfuge, or the sugar glazed look on Nova's face as she tried to pretend she'd done absolutely nothing untoward. He wanted absolute truth, and the only way he knew for sure how to get that was... well, to ask for it.

"Relax-!" Albus spluttered, his hand a bit sweaty where it lay flat on the countertop. "I thought you meant essence of Lavender, or something like Dreamless Sleep not-" Albus pressed his lips together, casting an eye over his shoulder at the misty windows as if he were to be overheard. "Not hallucinogenics." He hissed, wide eyed and a little goofy looking. Nova seemed to ooze laughter, so cheerful he wondered if she'd had some of the merchandise just before he'd arrived. He wouldn't put it past her, really. She didn't look very sorry at all.

Albus sighed as he leaned back, feeling like he was fighting some kind of moral losing battle. Nova seemed to draw a serious breath then, as if fuelled by his withdrawal as she leaned close to the counter. He saw a glisten of sugar at the corner of her mouth, it sort of ruined the request, but he bit back a smirk and nodded mutely. Let her be as serious as she could stomach, he doubted that was very serious at all. And he was right, her words dripping with snickering humour. He rolled his eyes toward the ceiling and mumbled a prayer for strength before he dropped his chin and knocked a knuckle on the glass.

"You know, you don't look very sorry to me," He told her with a grim little tilt of his head. "In fact, you look pretty pleased with yourself." He lifted his brows, daring her to deny it. Unfortunately, her determined little smirk of laughter was hard not to mimic and Albus had to rub a hand over his mouth to stop himself from slipping a smile in response. And then she choked on a mouthful of powdered sugar and Albus almost turned away, exasperated by how funny she found the whole ordeal, but not entirely annoyed enough to threaten a fine.

"I-" Albus barked an aghast laugh, almost impressed by her level of confidence as she offered him a second batch. And yet, he didn't say no. His mouth dropped a bit, his head rearing back as he looked at her to check if she were serious. And then, as quickly as his refusal should have came, his consideration overwhelmed it instead. "I'm not paying for it." He said with a sniff, leaning into the counter to narrow his eyes at her searching look. "I meant it when I said there were people looking for me." 

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Hallucinogenic? He hallucinated from some weed brownies? Albus Potter was a goddamn lightweight if she’d ever seen one. Merlin, she hadn’t even been that bad when she first dabbled back in like, fifth year. And the stuff she gave him had not been that strong by any standard. To say she was shocked was certainly one way to put it, though Nova did her best to wipe that off of her face. Whether or not she was pleased about the fact that Potter seemed to have somewhat enjoyed it didn’t really matter if it meant she was in trouble with the law. By this point, she was positive it wasn’t trending that way, and it was more him trying to throw his weight around a bit. Because he definitely didn’t come across as intimidating. Nor had he ever. ”I’m sort of sorry because I thought you knew what I gave you. But it was also harmless. Mostly.” Missing days was definitely not a good thing.

”That’s fine,” she said as he seemingly took up the offer. ”How about this then,” Nova continued, ”You eat them at my place, with me, and I can absolutely guarantee you won’t have anyone looking for you. That way you’re safe or whatever, and I can monitor it.” Because there was no way a couple of brownies were going to totally knock her out for days. Her tolerance was way too high at this point for that to happen. A nice little fun buzz for a few hours? Absolutely possible. Plus she was sort of intrigued by Potter’s brazenness to confront her like this and then seemingly accept more. Obviously he liked loosening up every once in a while despite what others said about him. ”How about Friday night? I live right upstairs,” she added, pointing above her.

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[Albus Severus Potter]

don't speak too soon.

april, 2028

WITH A LONG, CONTEMPLATING LOOK OF PURE exasperation on his face, Al tried to figure out if she was telling the truth or not. Did everybody just know they were being sold weed without ever actually saying it? Had Al missed some major plotline of young adulthood where this was normal. No, he felt pretty certain he hadn't, but he didn't necessarily disbelieve Nova either. "That's a pretty rubbish excuse, if you ask me." He told her with a pinched mouth, but he didn't elaborate beyond that, because it had satisfied his need for justice, almost. Maybe, just a little bit, they were both to blame for the outcome. Mostly her, though.

Momentarily, Al was taken aback by Nova's quick and easy offer. He felt his head draw back, his brows pulling together as he gave her a considering look. She couldn't be serious, he thought, shocked by the gall of it. She hadn't a lick of human hesitation. Albus was almost impressed by it, struck silent for a minute. "You seem pretty sure of yourself." He said while refraining from smirking, lest she think they were friendly or something. "Why would you want to do that anyway?" He asked suspiciously, shifting in place restlessly, but he hadn't said no yet. In fact, he'd practically said yes.

Shifting to look over his shoulder, Al watched a crowd bustle by the window with an uproarious laugh and felt suddenly like he was 'up to something'. What would James or Vivian say if they say him? Probably make some kind of joke about buying doughnuts for the team, or something. He cleared his throat and turned back, imagining that they would never expect him to be plotting with the likes of Nova. With her red rimmed eyes and dopey, careless grin.

"Friday... fine." He nodded once, a bit stiff around the shoulders, as if he was saying exactly what he did not want to say. "Like... 8?" He offered, stuffing his hands into his pockets and taking a careful step backwards. He wondered if she would call his bluff, or maybe laugh like she'd never been serious. He felt suddenly insecure, but tried not to let it show as he moved for the door. "And no more selling to unsuspecting customers!" Al warned her with a stern clench of his jaw.

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