Harry walked quickly down the corridor to the outdoor stables. Twice a week, at 1 o'clock, like clockwork, he would have lunch outside the ministry to watch the magical creatures being categorized and wrangled. He loved to watch the dragons, griffins and even the occasional Chimera. The wranglers for the Ministry worked diligently to check the condition of all the creatures that were bought in for medical care and registration. There were wizards from all over the world. Harry delighted in watching the score of witches and wizards arriving to have their Department of Magical Creatures, their expert, care for their creatures. Harry sat alongside the outside of the perimeter to eat his lunch, same time, every Tuesday and Thursday.

There she was.

She walked with a determined gait. Straight back and confident. Harry had never been that confident in his life. After the final battle, Harry had been thrust unwillingly into the limelight as the savior of the wizarding world, even when he felt anything but. He didn't want the notoriety. He wanted simply to be left alone. Instead, he was 'made' an Auror, which earned him the derision of most in the Auror department. This was why he ate his lunch alone on the days he wasn't in the field. He had to earn his place there. There were still dark forces out there and Harry had an affinity for finding them which at least earned him a modicum of respect among some of his younger co-workers, whilst the older ones still weren't sold on his type of celebrity. That was why instead of eating lunch with his coworkers or even in the main cafeteria, he decided instead to take the best seat in the house.

Maybe if he was lucky, she would sit by him and eat her meal as well as she had on many an occasion. Their's was an unspoken camaraderie. No banal chitchat just reserved admiration and a growing fondness (at least on Harry's part) that could no longer be denied.

Rounding a corner during the final battle he'd come face to face with a Death Eater. Having no chance to raise his wand he'd been thrown to the ground, his body covered by soft curves and cascading black curls. The curse had singed her robes at her shoulder. She scrambled hurriedly off him and turned to fire her own curse dropping the Death Eater.

"Go! Finish this Potter!" Millicent had shouted at him through her pain. Harry tried to help her, but she waved him off. She'd been covered in soot and blood, yet Harry noticed a spark in her eyes as she ran off to continue fighting. He wondered briefly if he'd in fact been stunned.

After the battle, the wounded were taken to Saint Mungo's Hospital. Among those hurt were Severus Snape and Millicent Bulstrode. Upon Harry finding out he'd gone to see her. He felt he needed to thank her for saving his life. In a magically induced coma, she'd remain that way for over a month to heal all the curse damage the battle had on her body. Harry would make the trek daily to see her. He'd often sit with Hermione as she read to a recovering Professor Snape. Had she not had a bezoar in her pocket, the anti-venom he'd used would have taken a lot longer to work. He had a feeling his friend harbored feelings for her former professor, but he kept his suspicions to himself, especially since she never mentioned why he'd come daily to visit their supposed former nemesis.

The day she finally woke up she'd found Harry sleeping in a chair in the corner of the room. Never one to mince words she made quick to ask just what he thought he was doing there. He'd lied and said he'd just found out she was there and had stopped off. He tried to thank her, but she wouldn't hear it and asked him to leave. He didn't see her again until two years after joining the ministry.

Harry had first seen her at work when she was wrangling an injured and rogue dragon Charlie had flown over from Romania. He nearly dropped his sandwich in the dirt when he saw the grace and raw talent in which she handled the creature. At first, he hadn't known it was her. All he had seen was a leather-clad witch approach the injured dragon. It was only after removing her helmet that he saw it was her. Long black curls framed a face flush with exertion. Again, he thought he'd been hit with a stunner.

"Potter..." she said nodding at him as he clumsily tried to keep his sandwich from falling out of his mouth.

He tried responding but she was gone, her attention and skill called upon again, this time by some very large and imposing Norse Wizards.

Harry felt wholly inadequate among the wizards and witches there and resigned instead to watch her work from afar. It took a few months for her to notice him. When she did finally see him sitting outside eating his lunch she smiled at him. Coming over to him, she was the first to speak, "Those McDonald's fries?"

Harry nodded, holding out the familiar red sleeve. "Thanks," she said as she took a few and continued back to work. If the following week Harry bought a large instead of a medium order of fries he reasoned it was just in case.

For the next few months, twice a week at one o'clock, two figures from two opposing houses sat either in complete silence or in hushed conversations about everything and nothing. He'd ask her about how she'd gotten interested in the care of Magical Creatures.

"As a little girl, then when I went to Hogwarts. I would often help Hagrid with the creatures in the forest."

Harry was surprised to hear that. He had not known anyone to willingly go into the forest. Harry made a mental note that her leather work gloves were worn and at risk of splitting at the seams. The fact that he noticed just how beautiful her hands are, was just happenstance.

"Did you want to be an Auror?" she asked between bites of an, especially ripe red apple. Harry had just come back from the Pacific Northwest in America and bought with him a bushel of some of the sweetest apples he'd ever had. He remembered her mentioning she liked sweet apples.

"Yes," he answered and they both watched the dragons being trained.

"Why?" he asked.

She knew what it was that he was asking.

"Because I wanted to," she answered, her eyes steady on his. He noticed her scarf was threadbare. It was early September, it would only get colder.

"Thank you," he said quietly.

On Halloween, she wore brown leather. He noticed how she admired the saddle and whip of one of the Hungarian witches. He noticed her whip had snapped while wrangling some dragons a couple weeks prior.

"Happy Halloween Potter," she said, her lip curling into a wicked smile as she walked by. It took him a moment to realize her socks had a miniature bespectacled wizard astride a broom, arm outstretched in an attempt to catch a snitch.

He laughed out loud, pumpkin juice spilling on his grey uniform. "Wicked woman," he murmured.

"Get it Marcus!" she yelled. The 'it' in question was a very tricky Niffler that had robbed her of a silver hair tie causing her hair to fall loose, almost down to her waist. Harry watched as Marcus Flint tried very unsuccessfully to catch the wily creature. Seeing the Niffler best her fellow Slytherin had Millie laughing raucously, a sound that made Harry wildly happy. They never did catch the little thief.

"Do you have a favourite dragon?"

"Which one did you choose during the Tri-Wizard Challenge?"

"Me? The Hungarian Horntail, why?"

Running off to chase a lost Thestral she called back, "that one."

"Oh..." Harry blushed.

On Christmas morning Millie sat in front of the hearth in her small house. She had a few packages under her tree and a few more sitting outside the door. After a strong cup of coffee, she began to open her presents. She had a couple of books on magical creatures from her grandmother and an oddly shaped cake from Hagrid. The remaining five gifts, those that had been left outside were, however, a mystery. They were each numbered and wrapped using muggle wrapping paper. Using her wand, she checked them for any curses.

Satisfied there were not cursed she picked up the first one and upon opening it she found a new pair of black leather gloves. They were enchanted to keep her hands from developing painful blisters and at the perfect temperature, whether winter or summer. She smiled. It was a very thoughtful gift. There was no note.

The second box was a scarf. It was clearly homemade; the material was warm and felt absolutely sinful against her skin. Once she put it on she found it to be enchanted to play her favourite songs where only she could hear them and charmed to keep her warm. She was incredibly happy at the thoughtfulness of both gifts. Searching the inside of the box she found this one did not contain a card or note.

The third box, a little larger than the other two, had a new dragon saddle. A beautiful oil rubbed leather that felt amazing to the touch. Along with it was a new whip. The ones she used didn't harm the creatures, they simply made a cracking noise that would help corral them. They were incredibly difficult to find which is why she hadn't been able to replace hers. Again, there was no note.

The fourth gift was a silver hair tie with a miniature Niffler pendant. The hair tie wouldn't allow her hair to come undone until she tapped it with her wand. It was ingenious. There was no note, but she didn't think she needed one.

The last present was enclosed in a small glass case no bigger than three inches. Etched on the glass there was written, 'Tap your wand here'. Picking up her wand from where it lay discarded among gift boxes she tapped the small glass case. When she did the glass fell away and inside was a tiny replica of a Hungarian Horntail Dragon. She smiled brightly as she watched it fly around her a couple times then land on her outstretched hand. Upon landing a tiny burst of fire came from its mouth and a charred edged wisp of paper floated onto the floor.

'Happy Christmas, Join me for lunch? Same time as always, Harry.'