July 28, 1895 — Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlour, London
Judy whistled as she walked into the ice-creamery owned by the Fortescue family. Florean Fortescue’s Ice cream parlour was one of her favourite haunts - the perfect way to pick up her blood sugar after a long day staring at work and trying to just make it work and make sense. It hadn't by the end of the day and, after being ejected from the office as she was going around in circles, she'd stopped into the bakery at the end of Diagon Alley to purchase something to pass for dinner before heading off to one of her favourite stores.
The Fortescue's made the best ice cream in London, or so she had long decided, and it didn't hurt matters that it amused her so very much to have Ritchie Fortescue behind the counter and forced to serve her. She was now almost thirty and she liked to think of herself as mature, wise and beyond her childish and wild teenage years but nothing gave her quite the amount of glee than being served by a former rival. It also helped that she had a gigantic sweet tooth and she had an entirely separate stomach for dessert - and, with nobody judging her eating habits - she was quite happy to indulge herself.
And it was Monday which meant it was Mystery Monday. How could she ever say no to Mystery Monday?
"And how have you been this fine day?" She remarked to her former rival as she approached the counter, jump to her step and shit eating grin smile clearly on her face.
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