Summary: A novel Which is basically a Romantic, Action/Adventure story. Note: episodes of rather dark violence and scenes of a sexual nature.

Disclaimer: Everything you recognize belongs to JK Rowling, and this story and it's original characters are mine. Contact before reproduction.

Pairing: Harry/OC and Ron/Hermione

Rating: M for adult themes, content, and recent additions.

A/N: This story will be the second in the 'Auror' series that began with 'Twelve Gates'. Inspired by the 'Hardboiled' giants, Hammett and Chandler, the story will hopefully have a slower and smokey beat reminiscent of those types of stories.

A/N2: As of 2.11.14 the story is being readdressed and several chapters have been re-written. One reviewer pleaded to give Harry a break with the women. Actually Harry had quite a bit of luck I thought, but the scenes were written so discretely some readers may have missed it entirely. Several of those scenes have been fleshed in. (no pun intended)

Harry Potter and the Wizards of Malta

Chapter 1.

This morning, and like most of his mornings at the Ministry now, Harry Potter was thumbing through the Daily Prophet to find the section for the weekly horoscopes.

Leo: 'A tragic experience will lead to adventure and romance.'

Complete codswallop. Last week's horoscope was somewhat believable, but this one was shite. Carefully laying that paper aside, he dug around in a pile on the floor for one with the crossword puzzle he hadn't finished. Familiar and heavy footsteps announced the ginger haired wizard with two cups of coffee from the canteen. Ron set the lidded cup on Harry's cubicle desk with a little wooden stir stick precariously balanced across the top.

"Thanks Ron. I'll get the next," he said, removing the stir stick and opening the paper to the crossword puzzle.

"Still hard at it I see," Ron said and plopped down at his own cube.

"If Kingsley would get off his arse and find me a new assignment," he said, looking for a quill.

"You get a date for this weekend?" Ron asked hopefully while testing the coffee with a small sip.

"You're kidding – right?"

"No – just hoping she might have a friend," he said and put the coffee down to cool.

"What's a four letter word for a wizard or magician?" Harry asked, ignoring the remark.

"You know – I heard about this new wizarding club in south Wales that just opened," Ron said, optimistically.

"Yeah, I think I heard something about that," Harry said, still engrossed in the puzzle.

"Well... whadyouthink? Maybe we ought to check it out – lot's of hot witches, from what I've heard."

"Yeah, and a lot of hot-headed wand slingers to go with em," Harry shot back. "Just the kind of trouble we don't need Ron. I'm in enough hot water with Kingsley as it is," he added and scribbled something down on the puzzle.

"Whiz!" Ron announced.

"Huh?"

"The four letter word for wizard," Ron said as if the answer was obvious.

"Nope – has to end in E," Harry clarified and popped the lid off the coffee.

"You need to square things up with Kingsley. Try being nice for a change," Ron said and pointed his stir stick at Harry for emphasis.

"Yeah, I suppose – I was little too rough on that last arrest," Harry said and put the paper down for a moment.

"A little too rough? Harry you almost killed the guy," Ron said with a wide eyed expression.

Harry shook his head with no answer and looked away, reflecting.

"Maybe if your sister wasn't giving it up to that guy from the Chudley Cannons."

"You don't know that," Ron stated emphatically.

"Don't know that she's not," he fired back.

"You started that row," replied Ron and a silence fell over the room.

"Mage!" Harry said with a perfect impersonation of a man saying 'Eureka'.

"What?" asked Ron.

"Mage – the four letter word for wizard or magician," he added.

"I'm serious Harry – you better get on better terms with Kingsley if you want another assignment."

"Thanks dad," Harry said and filled in the word in the crossword puzzle. "So what's Kingsley got you working on," he added, without looking up.

"Just got a new assignment – now that you mention it," Ron said, with a contented smile.

"Well... what it is then?" Harry asked, impatiently.

"You remember Penny Penthane from school don't you?"

"For sure. She's not the type one easily forgets."

"Yeah – well, she quit singing for the Weird Sisters," he said and took a pull from the coffee. "She's singing lead for a big time Muggle band now," he added.

"That good to know – so how do you fit in?"

"It's Jerry and me. We're to help her out a bit," Ron said and gloated.

"What kind of help?" Harry asked, with a dubious expression.

"Just watch out for her I guess – she's got a stalker or something like that," Ron said and rolled his shoulders into a shrug.

"What – she doesn't have Muggle bodyguards?"

"It's not a Muggle stalker! That's whats so odd about it. She convinced Kingsley he's a wizard," he explained through furrowed brows.

"Yeah, that is kinda odd. So, how'd she figure that out?"

"Don't know – Kingsley didn't tell us much, but we're off to talk with her this afternoon," Ron said.

Harry threw down the crossword paper and shook his head. "What a load – playing wetmaid to a crumpet like Penny Penthane," he said, dejectedly.

"It's Electra."

"What?"

"Electra – her stage name is Electra," Ron explained. "Anyway, her band will be in London for a few weeks – should be a nice assignment," he said and chuckled.

"Yeah – that's like saying the Pope's in Rome."

Eddie, the courier for out of office post, stepped in the Auror office and opened the flap of a large leather shoulder bag.

"Morning Eddie," Ron and Harry chorused. He paused by Harry's cubicle.

"Morning... I think there's something for you Harry," he said as he fished through the bag. He pulled out a small envelope and handed it to Harry.

"Thanks..." Harry said, looking at the envelope curiously.

"A fan letter?" Ron asked with an animated tone.

Harry studied the note for few moments and stared off into space.

"No... it's from Hannah Abbot. Says there's been a scary stranger hanging around the pub," Harry said and threw down the note.

Ron nodded and pursed his lips. "Hm... that's odd. Seems the world is full of weirdos these days. Is she still dating that guy from Durmstrang?"

"No idea – what's a nine letter word for a type of toad?"

"You better go down there and help her out mate," Ron said, grinning. "She's looking pretty good these days," he added and nodded deeply.

"Ron, is sex the only thing on your mind?" Harry asked, still struggling over the crossword.

"No, of course not – I like a good meal every now and then," he quipped and swallowed down the last of the coffee.

‡‡‡‡‡

Diagon Alley was always different at night. The air was fresher, cleaner somehow. The patrons would be talking and laughing as they came out of the shops and onto the cobblestone street. There were fewer worried looks and fewer sad faces. Knockturn Alley was more sinister at night for almost exactly the same reasons.

Most along the alley knew the Aurors and were happy to see them. The war was over and the greater part of the magical community had relaxed by now. But tensions could flair up easily over the smallest things and some were still nervous when strangers came to hang around the alley. Hannah had broken up with the guy from Durmstrang several weeks ago, but Ron could find that out on his own.

Of all the Aurors that entered the alley, Harry was the most respected. Walking toward the Leaky Cauldron on this night reminded him of sombre thoughts. Thoughts that led him to understand that respect had not come without a loss. The loss sometimes almost seemed more than he could bear. Sometimes he felt angry. Several of his arrests had gone down rather bad lately and now he was regarded as one not to cross wands with. Kingsley had been upset about it and thought Harry had used unnecessary force. Harry knew it was the black wand. The damned thing had a mind of it own. Or it was connected to a darker side of himself. He really didn't know which.

Old Tom had disappeared after the war and Hannah Abbot had taken over the Leaky Cauldron as publican or landlady. She had worked really hard the first year to get the place back in shape. The last thing she needed was some scary creep hanging around and frightening the customers away. She had hired some new kid to work the place and she was beginning to take a little time off to take care of herself as well. Her straw colored hair was always neat and plaited now, and the outer layers were almost blonde from the sun. She had garnered a kind of outdoorsy good looks with a copper color and shapely legs from frequent walks along the countryside.

Even when they were both seeing someone, Hannah was often warm and affectionate. More than once he noticed the swish of her skirt across his forearm as she passed his table. Then there were the times when she would touch his shoulder or hand when the conversation was particularly appealing. At first, Harry thought she was one of those touchy-feely kind of girls, but now he wondered if he had been too thick-headed to take a hint.

He entered the Cauldron from the entrance to Diagon Alley and quickly scanned the dining area for any new faces. Not seeing anyone new, he proceeded to the bar where a young man was drying beer mugs. The young barkeep snapped around as Harry approached and almost dropped a mug.

"Oh, Mister Potter – didn't see you," he said. "Can I get you something?"

The barkeep was Charlie, the new helper Hannah had hired.

"I was looking for Hannah – is she about?"

"I'll ring for her sir," the kid said.

"Thanks Charlie," Harry replied, leaning back on the bar and looking over the room.

A few moments later Hannah's heels could be heard coming around the bar.

"Harry – thanks for stopping by."

Hannah was a wearing loose fitting shirt-style frock with buttons up the front. For another night at the pub, the outfit was overdress. She was wearing heeled sandals and sporting nice legs with athletic gams below the short hemline. With the sun she'd been getting she didn't need hosiery for color. The straw colored hair was neat, clean, and plaited behind her.

"I got the note you sent. Is your problem here tonight?" Harry asked, immediately getting to business.

She nodded. "We can talk over here," she said and motioned to a small corner table.

Harry sat with his back to the corner with a good look of the dining area. Hannah pulled a chair very close to his and with her free hand tugged at the hem-line, which was doing it's best to creep up to mid-thigh.

"He's over there – in the other corner," she said, with a quick glance over her shoulder.

"So how long has this been going on?"

"A couple of weeks Harry. He comes in early in the evening and stays until closing. He buys a beer, maybe two," she whispered.

"Has he been obnoxious – or threatening?" he inquired.

Hannah, shook her head and the straw colored plait lifted a little. "No, but he's scary and the customers won't get near that corner," she said and bit her lower lip.

"Okay, I'll talk to him," Harry said as he made a motion to get up.

Hannah nodded with a look of concern. "Be careful."

Cupping his hands down the lapels of his jacket, he felt the reassuring bulge of each wand sitting properly in the lapel pockets. Stretching his fingers like a concert pianist, he relaxed and let the hands fall gently to his sides.

Most Knockturn Alley vagrants were fairly easy to evict from unwelcome establishments, but one always had to be careful. Harry had trained for hundreds of hours for just such situations as these. There was one problem however: no two were ever alike and while you trained for the expected, it was the unexpected that got you killed. The last Auror killed in a situation like this was hit from a curse fired under the table. If the wizard's hands were under the table he would stun first and ask questions later. He paused for a moment to let his eyes adjust to the scarcity of light from this part of the room.

The dark shadow didn't move or look up as Harry approached the corner table in which he was nestled. Just a few steps from the table, he paused to address the man. He was wrapped in a coarsely woven dark cloak and hood. The whole thing looked archaic and very inappropriate for the weather. There was a single beer mug on the table and his oversize hands were resting beside it. Harry paused until the wizard slowly lifted his head to take full notice. Shadow Man peered back with onyx black eyes.

"What brings you to Diagon Alley?" Harry asked the wizard.

"Just come in for a beer," the man replied in a voice like road gravel and motioned toward the evidence on the table. "And who might you be?"

"I'm from the Ministry of Magic. And who are you?" Harry fired back.

The man squinted with eyes like oily black marbles.

"A law enforcement official then – Have I broken the law?" he asked with his hands still on the table.

The wizard had casually side-stepped the question of who he was and why he was there. This was no time to be affable or loquacious. Harry felt his left hand trying to connect with the black wand - the fingers were beginning to twitch.

"No but you're scaring the customers – and there's been complaints – you'll have to leave," he added firmly.

"If I don't?" the man asked with a wry smile.

"You'll be having your next beer in Azkaban – you make the choice," Harry told the wizard as calmly as if he was explaining to a child.

"So who are you? Your name that is," the wizard inquired, just as casually.

"Harry Potter."

"Oh... I've heard of you," he said and nodded with a smile. The wizard lifted the hand from the table and reached for something under the cloak. Before the hand could get there, Harry's black wand jumped from the right lapel pocket and into his now extended left hand with a slapping sound. He was reaching under the opposite lapel with his right hand when the wizard froze.

"Slowly," Harry ordered.

The wizard laughed a gravelly laugh and cautiously pulled a gold Galleon from behind the cloak and placed it on the table with exaggerated carefulness. With palms open and hands clearly in view he rose from the table and started for the door.

"Good night Mister Potter," he said with a little salute.

"Don't come back," Harry said and replaced the wand gently in his right lapel pocket. He watched until the stranger vanished behind the double doors and then turned to his own corner table. Hannah had been watching from behind the bar and let out a deep breath and a sigh of relief.

"I'm glad he's gone, and I hope he never comes back," she said.

"I don't think he will," Harry said reassuringly and Hannah gave him a little nudge back toward to the table. Hannah took the same chair she'd used earlier, which was at a cozy distance from Harry's.

"Did he say where he was from and what he was doing here?" she asked.

"Nah, he didn't say – probably just a drifter waiting for work in Knockturn Alley. I wouldn't worry about him," Harry said and gave Hannah a reassuring smile.

"I really hated asking you down here after work – you must be tired," she said.

"Don't worry about that. Things are slow at work. Boring really."

"Can I get you a beer?"

"Sure," he answered with a little nod.

"And something to eat – are you hungry?"

Harry shook his head. "No, not really, no."

Hannah pulled a face and looked over to Charlie. "Charlie, bring Harry a beer – and a sandwich too, please."

"You don't have to bother with all that Hannah."

"It's no trouble, and I do appreciate you helping out here," she said and she brushed a swatch of the forelocks out of her eyes.

"That's what friends are for – isn't it?" he asked and she ignored the remark.

"Be back in a second," she said and looked impatiently toward Charlie. A few moments later Hannah came back with two mugs of cold beer.

"You mind if I join you?" she asked playfully and easing the mugs on the table.

"Be my guest," he said, watching her curl one leg under the other as she sat down. A trick only a girl could do.

Charlie arrived a few moments later with a roast beef sandwich, cut diagonally in half and resting on a plate with crisps.

"Thanks Charlie," they chorused, and Hannah immediately focused on Harry.

"So how's you love life Hannah – seeing anyone new?" he asked.

Hannah nodded. "It's pretty good Harry, and you?" she replied with a grin.

"Yeah, couldn't be better," he said, nodding and reached for the beer.

Holding straight faces as long as possible, they both broke out laughing.

"We're terrible liars Harry."

"Yeah – we are," he said and took a long pull from the beer.

"I saw your ex the other day," she said with blue eyes watching his reaction from under the fringe.

"Really," he said. "It's a small world – did she come in here?"

"No, she was in Diagon Alley with some guy. Is that..."

"Probably – she's been seeing a Quidditch player with the Chudley Cannons," he said and grabbed a half of the sandwich. "And she's playing for the Hollyhead Harpies – you knew that, right?"

Hannah nodded. "You think she could have found someone on a winning team?" she said with a grin.

"Yeah... to say the least. That gent from Durmstrang you were seeing – any word from him?" Harry asked, between bites of the sandwich.

"Nope – I may have mentioned – his family sent him off to university," she said and took a pull from her mug. "No letters since then."

Harry shook his head in a mock show of sympathy, and a quiet fell over the table. There they were again. Sitting at the table with a white Elephant between them. When they both were seeing someone else they could gab for hours. They talked of places they went, and things they had done with no problem. They even kidded one another about their sex lives. But now it was different. They were both between lovers and the right words were suddenly difficult to find. Several times they had talked like this only to have the conversation stall out and Hannah would have to run off and see to something. Harry felt somehow that tonight would be different.

Hannah was the first to jump in and try the water.

"Sooo, tell me. Why are you bored at work?" she asked as she lent forward cozily. Her top fell open, giving Harry a furtive glimpse. It was a warm beginning, and when his eyes rose to meet hers she was watching with a faint smile.

"Uh, a couple of things, I guess," Harry said, shaking his head and looking out into space.

"Well, lately – several arrests went down rather bad – and Kingsley thought I used excessive force."

Hannah reflected on this tidbit as she furrowed her brows and beckoned for him to continue. Harry adjusted his glasses, stalling for time. He rubbed his jaw where he picked up a new scar while on assignment in Romania. It was mostly invisible now and it only showed up when surrounded by five-o'clock shadow.

"After the war and that ugly thing in Romania – well now I have trouble dialing it down," he said and reached for an empty beer mug. He glanced into the mug and set it back down. Hannah grabbed the mug and lifted it into the air.

"Charlie," Hannah called out to the young barkeep. "The war was a lot to go through Harry, particularly for you – is that fair?"

"Kingsley's been through it as well – no it's me. I get angry quite often and stay narky a lot," he said with a mock frown.

Charlie scurried back to the table and set down a fresh mug. He hung around the table wearing an inquisitive smile. Hannah gave him a cold look and he scurried off just as fast.

"Oh – I see," she said and then curled one corner of her mouth into a wry grin.

"What's so funny?" he asked, smiling back.

"You're just cranky then," she said with a smile, as they both realized she had just reduced a terribly complex problem to a simple one.

"Yeah, I guess so," he said and laughed.

"Harry, I don't mean to pry – "

"But I think you're going too..." he injected with a grin.

" – how long has it been since you've been out on a date?"

"A date?" he asked, pulling a face.

"Yeah... you know what I mean," she said and Harry returned her a puzzled look. "Okay – a full service date then," she added, then blushed.

"I don't know," he said and shook his head. "Oh... back with Sandy I guess."

"Harry that's forever. You mean you and Ginny never..."

"We never got back together before she left the Burrow."

"That might be your problem Harry."

He scratched his ear and grinned. "Maybe... yeah maybe you're right. It's just that – after the last two, I don't feel like getting into another relationship right now," he said apologetically and watched Hannah closely for any reaction.

She gave no clue and looked over at Charlie struggling with a tray of clean beer mugs. Most of the customers had called it a night and several more were saying goodbyes. She uncrossed her legs and the hem of the frock crept up to a portion of creamy skin not darkened by tan.

"Think I'll bolt the front door and help Charlie a bit – you need another beer?" she said, rising from the chair.

"No I'm fine, but thanks."

"Don't run off," she said and emphasized with a pointed finger.

Harry finished up the beer and thought on what Hannah had said. What she struggled to say was bang-on, a little female attention wouldn't hurt, but she didn't know the whole story. Maybe sometime he should tell her. Hannah had been a good friend, and he was getting a strong feeling things might get a lot friendlier if he let them. Between the beer, the catty conversation and Hannah's cute frock, he was beginning to feel relaxed and warm all over. It was that kind of feeling you get when destiny and desire are on a collision course and the world takes on an aura of honey-dew sweetness.

Hannah was desirable, very much so, but he didn't see a future for the two of them beyond comfort for the night. If it came to that, would she still be friends later? He was thinking he wouldn't be that lucky. As his friends were in short supply right now he couldn't afford to lose any more. It might be best to chill-out and call it a night since his powers of reasoning were melting and his vision was clouded by the veiled honey-dew aura of the evening. Yes, he would give Hannah some time to chew on his comments before desire and lust took control of his actions.

Ignoring Hannah's instructions, he quietly got up from the corner setting and walked around the empty tables to leave by the front door. It was the way he had always left the Leaky Cauldron after the night Sandy died. He locked the door and shut it gently behind him. He took a deep breath of moist night air. Pausing to take in the street scene around him, he continued on, wondering if perhaps he had been a fool.