Bajtra Fizz
Harry watched the wizards and witches swirling across the dance floor and mingling in groups along the walls. This was the ministry party to celebrate the first anniversary of the true and final death of Voldemort and the defeat of his Death Eaters. He should be having fun but Harry felt rather apathetic. Perhaps he'd become jaded in the past year. When he looked out into the room instead of seeing a joyful party Harry saw networking, business deals in progress, and the not always subtle social climbing.
He wanted no part of it but he didn't want to deal with the backlash his avoidance would have garnered. Thankfully his anti-social attitude was well documented and a scowl kept most of the hangers on at bay. Harry sighed to himself and left his little nook. He'd finished his drink a while ago and the little plate of snacks was just not holding him over.
On his way to the bar he picked up a plate with a different variety of morsels then his first. About his only entertainment at these things was the exotic and inventive foods and drinks on offer. Once he'd moved out of his Aunt's house into the tiny flat he'd bought near the Alley in London Harry had developed quite an interest in foods from other countries. When not restricted to 'proper British' menu, Harry had found he liked experimenting with cooking.
Of course this had been noted at one of the endless rounds of functions he'd attended early on following Voldemort's defeat. After that the fair at these things had improved. Harry suspected the planers were trying to placate him. This was the one instance when he didn't care that his fame was being pandered to.
Harry stepped up to the bar as the bartender set two melon colored drinks with odd pieces of fruit as garnish before a young man. "What was that?" Harry asked when the barman turned to him, gesturing to the retreating gentleman. "A Bajtra Fizz, Mr. Potter. Bajtra is a prickly pear liquor and we mix it with a lemon wine."
"I don't think I've ever had lemon wine, or prickly pear for that matter."
"The wine is a small family pressing, sir, not commercially sold and the liquor is distilled in Malta."
"Well then I'll have to try one." Harry watched the man mix his drink and noted the names on each bottle, if it was good he might have to try and find some. "Thank you." Harry picked up his drink and left a tip in it's place. He took a small sip and smiled in pleasure at the taste. "It's good." He nodded to the bartender and left to find a quiet corner to hide in.
Harry took another sip of the drink, it made him think of summer and far away places. Maybe... maybe it was time he took a vacation. He'd finished his schooling and he didn't have to worry about money; between the Potter and Black vaults he had enough to live on comfortably for two or three lifetimes.
There was no reason for him to stick around England. Ron and Hermione had drifted away to their own things. Neville was the only other person he had kept touch with and he was busy getting his greenhouses sorted out and a new business off the ground.
Yes. A vacation would be just the thing. He could try exotic foods in their naive lands, maybe take in a bit of culture. Harry finished his drink and set the glass on a passing waiter's tray. Malta would definitely be on his travel list.
Harry spent the rest of the night planing his trip.
-END-
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