Victoire stepped into the sweet-smelling shop, inhaling deeply as she admired the shelves and shelves of candy lining the walls. Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlor, read a sign above her, glowing a light shade of blue and white as magical sparkles flew around it. It was her favorite shop along the entire length of Diagon Alley: she always deserved a treat after a long day of shopping with her siblings and arguing with her mother over whether she or Dominique would receive new robes this year. Letting out a light sigh, she approached the counter and stared up at the long list of flavors. “You know,” she began. “I always get the same flavor, but I want to try something new. What do you recommend?” She asked the person next to her, a bright smile written on her face.




















