Chapter 6

It was in the middle of the afternoon that Friday when his phone buzzed, but Harry was just reading through some files, bringing himself up to date on an investigation the department was in the middle of conducting. And considering that his caller ID informed him that it was Ginny, and that he'd only spoken to her briefly a couple of times since he'd arrived in the U.S., he answered it.

"Hey Gin."

"Hey."

"How are you? I feel like we keep missing each other."

He heard her chuckle.

"We do. I'm sorry, I know it's still pretty early there but I thought I'd see if you were free."

"Just reading some reports, so I have a few minutes. How's training?"

"The usual with the Harpies, but that's actually why I called," there was a clear note of excitement in her voice.

"Why's that?"

"A representative from the English National Team was a practice today they want me to start training with them!"

"Oh wow, Gin, that's fantastic, congratulations!"

"Thanks, I'm really excited."

"You should be! And you've worked really hard, you've earned that spot."

"Well I don't have it yet, this is on a trial basis, I don't know if I'll make the roster, even as an alternate, but this is the first step."

"I have faith in you," he said, hoping the smile in his voice translated across the phone. "The Harpies don't mind you taking the time away?"

"No not at all. Actually, I thought Gwenog might kiss me when she heard the news." She giggled and his smile broadened. "This is great publicity for us, you know it's still rare for witches to be selected. And anyway, it's not full time. It will be more travel but you're there so I suppose it doesn't matter."

He heard this bitterness in her tone and suppressed a sigh. This was a constant source of tension in their relationship. It frustrated him that she traveled for her career but resented him for doing the same; while she didn't understand why he couldn't be an auror like her brother and just do domestic policing, why he took tough international assignments. They'd nearly broken up around the time Hermione had moved to New York as a result of their first argument over the issue.

He had been in auror training for just over a year- with another year to go- and he already knew that the traditional iteration of the job wasn't for him: issuing citations for improper wand usage and arresting people for petty crimes after the experience of defeating a dark lord just sounded ridiculous. He'd joined the corps because he wanted to make a difference, and that hadn't felt like making a difference. And then there had been the small matter of the fact that he was terrible at taking orders- which he really should have realized about himself much sooner.

So, he'd tested for and been accepted into the hit-wizard program with Magical Interpol which would include months of training on the continent, and the Ministry had been more than thrilled to send him for such specialized training. In hindsight, he probably should have at least told Ginny about it before he applied, but he wasn't used to consulting with people before he made decisions except for maybe Ron and Hermione, but that was different.

He'd been rather appalled when he realized that Ginny had basically expected him to use his fame to leverage himself into what amounted to a cushy desk job with an impressive title. She had argued that he'd already done enough for their world, that he shouldn't be putting himself in more danger, and he'd asked her if she knew him at all. The arrival of a letter from Hermione practically gushing with praise, telling him how proud she was of him for challenging himself and not taking the easy road had not helped matters one bit.

But when he'd mentioned that perhaps they should consider the months he'd be away as a break from their relationship, she'd cried and told him that she didn't want that at all. She apologized, and said that she realized that he deserved a partner who supported his career goals, especially given how supportive he'd been of her dream to play professional quidditch in the face of her mother's very vocal disapproval. Harry thought then that she had started to understand. And, well, he had never been very good at handling crying women.

So, he'd gone off to training with Ginny still holding the title of his girlfriend and when he came home they pretended it had never happened. Except in moments like these. He refused to rise to the bait.

"How are things there?" She eventually asked.

"Good," he sank into his chair. "I'm settling well. Everybody has been really welcoming and I like the city so far. It feels big, even compared to London. It's nice, being anonymous."

She laughed. "You could never be anonymous."

"What do you mean?"

"Just that you're Harry Potter, when you walk into a room people notice."

That had him sitting up straight again. "Maybe back home, but that's only because of all that Boy-Who-Lived, Golden Trio nonsense. It's not real, you know know that."

He heard a little huff from the other end of the line. "You underestimate yourself, you always have."

Harry shifted in his chair, trying to come up with a response, he didn't like it when she said things like that. It didn't happen often, but it was a little too reminiscent of the little girl who'd idolized him, and that made him highly uncomfortable, so he changed the subject. "The Malfoys are holding a party tonight to give us an opportunity to socialize with the department outside of work, meet their spouses, that kind of thing."

"That sounds nice."

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure the new and improved Malfoy plan for world domination includes an obscene amount of booze and canapes." He heard a snort from across the office. "Hermione will be there," he blurted.

There was a long pause. "So you've seen her?"

"Well, yeah, we work in the same building, I wasn't just going to ignore her."

"Why not?" She asked, her voice deceptively calm. "She's been ignoring us."

"She's still my best friend, Ginny. I missed her and I wanted to see her. And I'm sure she had her reasons."

"Oh yeah, and what were they?"

Harry didn't say anything, because wasn't that a damn good question? And one he hadn't gotten the answer to. But he was beginning to wonder if he had any right to demand that Hermione explain herself. In so many ways it felt like out of all the people on the planet the very last person who owed him anything was Hermione Granger, and he was just happy to have her back. But then again, what if she pulled another disappearing act? He had no idea how to prevent that.

"Did you even ask?" Ginny continued to demand.

"She's entitled to her privacy," he said but he sounded sheepish and unconvincing even to his own ears.

"Right."

There was another uncomfortable pause.

"Okay, well, Mum just tried to floo so I should go see what she wants and you should probably get back to work."

It was the worst excuse Harry had ever heard, Ginny avoided her mother's floo calls like the plague. He let her get away with it though, he didn't have the energy for a fight and this was really not the place for it anyway.

"Oh, okay then," he agreed, trying to sound upbeat.

"I'll talk to you later, have fun tonight."

"Thanks, I love you."

"Love you too." She said the words, but there was absolutely no emotion in her voice.

The line went dead and he pulled the mobile away from his face and just stared at it.

"Trouble in paradise?" Malfoy drawled.

Harry nearly dropped his phone, he'd momentarily forgotten the other man was in the room. He turned to face him, Malfoy hadn't even looked up from his work.

"I don't know," Harry confessed.

Malfoy scribbled a few things in the margins of a report and then finally looked up and regarded Harry evenly, leaning back in his chair like he hadn't a care in the world. Harry felt himself growing irritated; the other wizard practically had a mastery in the art.

"Potter, if you don't know the answer to that question, then there is."

"I think she's still upset that I took this assignment."

"Really," he arched one brow, "because it didn't sound like things got frosty until you mentioned Granger."

Harry just shrugged.

"In my experience it's not wise to just bring up other witches out of the blue. If you do, your witch starts wondering if she has something to worry about."

"Really?" Harry snorted. "In your experience? Malfoy, I've seen you blatantly flirt with other women when your wife was standing right beside you."

"Well that's because Astoria is awesome. She understands it's just in my nature to flirt and that I would never cheat on her. Actually, I think she kind of enjoys watching me fluster other women knowing I'm coming home with her," he mused with a typical smirk.

"Merlin," Harry muttered. "There really is no end to your ego."

"But," Malfoy continued as if he hadn't been interrupted, "for witches in general it's true. And haven't you noticed that your fiancée is sensitive on the subject of Granger?" There was a pause. "Merlin why am I having to explain this to you? You and the Weaslette have been together forever, I think you were engaged before Astoria and I even started dating. And why are you still engaged, for that matter?"

"You think we should break up?" He blurted out of alarm. Because, despite himself, Malfoy actually knew him quite well. When he'd first become an auror many people had refused to work with Malfoy, Harry had been one of the few exceptions, so they'd been paired up fairly often, especially because Malfoy had always been given the least-desirable, most-dangerous assignments, whereas Harry had regularly volunteered for them. And then he'd realized that Malfoy was actually a good partner: smart, efficient, and- when it was called for- ruthless.

They were not friends. They weren't. But he trusted the man.

Malfoy's features fell into an expression of almost comical surprise. "Wow. Okay, that is not what I just said, but it's very interesting that's how you would interpret it."

Harry felt his neck grow hot and he removed his perfectly clean glasses and began to polish the lenses so that he had something to do with his hands. "What did you mean then?"

"Why aren't you married yet?"

"We're getting married next June." It was an automatic response and he knew it was the wrong thing to say when he saw Malfoy's exaggerated eye roll.

"That's not what I asked. Merlin, man, are you you purposefully misunderstanding me?"

Harry ground his teeth. "No, perhaps you're just not being specific enough."

"You've been engaged for how long?" Malfoy asked very slowly, like he was addressing a toddler.

"Three years."

"And you were a couple for how long before that?"

"Two years, plus that time during sixth year."

There was a beat of heavy silence. They both knew why the relationship had been interrupted. But even though they'd come a long way over the years, they had never, ever discussed that terrible night when Malfoy had let Death Eaters into Hogwarts and Dumbledore had died, and Harry very much doubted they ever would.

Malfoy cleared his throat. "Well, that's my point. Astoria and I have only been together a little over three years and we've already been married a year and a half. What's the hold-up with you two?"

"The timing just hasn't been right. And it takes a long time to plan a wedding."

"What do you mean, 'the timing hasn't been right?' And I know that you being you, there are certain expectations for any social event you might host, but you cannot tell me that your wedding would take longer to plan than a Malfoy wedding. Mother and Astoria don't even get along and they pulled it off."

Harry felt himself growing defensive but he couldn't figure out why. "We just haven't been able to find a date where one of us wasn't busy. We both have very demanding careers."

"I work the same job as you do Potter, most of the same assignments even. And Astoria was in the middle of her Charms mastery while she was planning our wedding."

"What's your point Malfoy!" He snapped.

He shook his head. "Look, I have a- grudging- respect for you. But most importantly my wife is fond of you in a way that sometimes makes me question her otherwise immaculate tastes. I just don't want to see you make a mistake you can't take back."

Well wasn't that just a bludger to the chest? "Are you telling me you think marrying Ginny is a mistake? Is this because she's a Weasley?"

"Don't insult me," he hissed, eyes narrowed, "I've never been anything but polite to your witch, at least since Hogwarts. And I'm not saying it's a mistake, I was just saying you should think about it because that conversation you just had with her was painful to listen to."

Harry opened his mouth but Malfoy interrupted. "I'm done with this conversation." There were a few beats of silence. "But Potter, my plan for world domination absolutely does not involve canapes."

Harry bit back a laugh and turned back to his work, but his gut was roiling.

Later that evening Harry was one of the first to arrive at the Malfoys suite for the party, considering that he was staying in a room just a few floors down. He and Malfoy had spent the afternoon pretending that they hadn't had a heart to heart like a couple of witches about the state of his relationship. But that didn't mean it had ever left his mind.

On one hand, Malfoy had a point. But on the other it had been Ginny and only Ginny since he was sixteen years old, that meant something, didn't it? It was probably just that, from the outside looking in, Malfoy couldn't really understand. The Weasleys were family, he belonged with them.

He heard Hermione before he saw her, he would have known her voice anywhere. He looked up to see her strolling into the room, led by Astoria, her arm linked with another witch's who strangely reminded him of Luna Lovegood, though they really didn't look very much alike aside from both having long blonde hair. She just had a calm aura about her that was very reminiscent of his old friend.

Given their body language he could immediately tell that she and Hermione were close, which warmed his heart. Looking back on it, he was fairly certain she'd been starved of female companionship at Hogwarts. She'd been so wrapped up in his problems, she'd had little time for anything else. And while she and Ginny had been friends, the fact of the matter was that Ginny was almost two years younger than Hermione and he could now see that theirs had been much more like a mentor/mentee relationship than an equal friendship; and, of course, her roommates had never been any match for her.

But it wasn't his desire to watch her interact with her friend that had him frozen in place, it was all the skin she had on display. She wasn't dressed obscenely by any means. In fact, she looked elegant in a deep purple dress which was tied around the neck, displaying her back. It hugged her curves but it wasn't too tight- as if she was begging for attention- and fell to just above her knees. He'd simply never seen her like this before. Between the old-fashioned nature of fashion in magical Britain, and the fact that the climate in Scotland where they'd spent most of their time together was fairly unforgiving, he'd never seen her dressed so scantily.

"Gods man, shut your mouth before she sees you!" Somebody hissed into his ear. "It's like you've never seen a woman before."

He turned to look at the other wizard he'd been having a drink with before Hermione arrived. Malfoy's eyes went wide when he met his gaze.

"Oh shite," he muttered.

"What?"

Malfoy just shook his head.

"What!" He slammed his glass down on the table beside him.

Malfoy didn't flinch, just stared at him until he met his eyes again. "Harry, trust me, this is something you're going to have to figure out for yourself."

The use of his first name, which he'd only heard Malfoy utter perhaps a handful of times before- at least three of those instances had been to get his attention to warn him that they were about to be ambushed- brought him up short and kept him from making further demands.

Instead, his eyes drifted back to Hermione and he ignored the sigh he heard from beside him.