Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no profit.
Acknowledgments: My friend CrimsonKnight and Zaion Indulias for some of the beta work. Sadly, the majority of the mistakes this time, are mine.
She hated working. Really, there wasn't anything she hated more. Well, the color orange was a possible exception. But that was a different kind of hate. That was purely because she didn't understand it. Like seriously? What was with orange? Nothing about it was attractive. Something about it was offensive.
That hatred, though, was starting to seem almost ironic to her.
But she hated working more. She cursed her parents every moment of the day. And twice on moments when she sat behind the desk in the potion shop, where she measured and peddled ingredients. They'd been wealthy, her parents. But they'd spent it all staying out of prison.
With how little she saw them now, she'd have almost preferred they were in Azkaban. At least then she'd have their lost fortune and she wouldn't have to work.
The nights at the shop were the worst. They just never seemed to end. No one ever came in. She couldn't understand why the owner didn't just close at five. But she was getting paid for doing next to nothing.
And he said he'd come in that night. He came in most nights. She was amazed she liked him. Certainly her parents would never, ever, approve of him. But that didn't matter. She liked him. And his money. He wouldn't have made her work.
She looked upwards when the door opened. Was it him? Was he early? Sometimes he'd come in and just talk to her all evening. It made the shifts pass faster. And she really wanted to see him.
But it wasn't him. It was just a customer. She frowned. So she'd actually have to do some work that evening. It beat being fired, but not by much. She slipped out from behind the front desk and approached the customer, getting ready to ask what he wanted and prepare his order. Maybe it would make the time go faster.
Chapter 7
"What?" Harry asked, feeling rather shocked.
"You know, the tall blonde one," she said, looking a little confused.
"Yeah, she's a prosecutor at the ministry," Harry said. Luna tilted her head to the side a little bit.
"Really?" she asked.
"Yes," Harry said. "Why?"
"She never struck me as the type," Luna said with a shrug. "She's haughty and kind of a bitch. I overheard them at Flourish and Blotts one day." She blushed as she swore, and Harry got the strangest sense she wasn't very comfortable with the word.
"Draco and Daphne are together a lot?" Harry asked. He suddenly had a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. And he couldn't get the thought of Draco's sloppy seconds out of his head.
But what did he suspect? It wasn't like he'd actually talked to Daphne during their fake-date. In fact they'd only gone out because of a flippant bet he'd made months before. There wasn't anything there at all.
Still, she'd seemed so interested in finding out what had happened to Pansy. But maybe that was all a front. He didn't know. The entire thing could have been an elaborate ruse. Maybe they'd even picked the date based on the outcome of the trial against Burick.
That was getting too far ahead of himself. He knew he shouldn't have felt betrayed. But that wasn't as easy of an emotion to shake off as he expected it to be. And he knew it was rude to not be paying attention to her.
"How would I know?" Luna asked, tilting her head to the side.
"You said you saw them," Harry sighed. She nodded.
"Yes, but it's not like I follow them around, Harry," she sighed. "And I see a lot of people in the alley."
"Oh," he said, doing his best to not sound annoyed that she wasn't being more helpful. He knew he shouldn't have expected any sort of help, but not having any sign of Draco for two days was starting to wear on him.
And it shouldn't have. He knew that. It wasn't like it was always the easiest thing to find people and question them. And if he was honest with himself, he didn't really suspect Draco. They just didn't have another lead. So he was really hoping that Draco would provide some sort of information that would help them close the case.
He paused for a moment, not quite able to believe that somehow he was relying on Draco Malfoy for the continuation of one of his cases. He and Hannah were going to have to sit down and brainstorm quite a bit if they didn't find Mr. Malfoy in a hurry.
"Why are you so interested in her?" Luna asked quietly. Harry paused and just looked at her for a moment. He noticed she'd put her silverware down and hadn't really started on their newly arrived food. He'd just been lazily picking at his.
"I'm not," Harry lied with a bright smile. Luna just tilted her head to the side so he speared a large chunk of his own dinner onto his fork and ate it. Once he swallowed he spoke again. "I'm more interested in Malfoy."
"I didn't think he was your type," Luna said quietly. But she picked up her fork and started on her food. So Harry figured that was a bit better of a situation. He bottled up any thoughts of Daphne, knowing that, at the very least, he wanted Luna to have a good evening.
"Oh I don't know, sexy and blonde is certainly my type," Harry said, tilting his head to the side and looking at Luna. She flushed a Gryffindor crimson.
"And very male. I didn't think you swung that way," Luna said quietly. She took a moment to take a sip of her wine and just look at him, her wide blue eyes giving her that perpetual surprised look he enjoyed.
"Well, you know, can't always be picky," Harry smiled, still trying to keep things light and joking. Luna just looked away from him and down at her food. She didn't say anything, but just ate quietly. It never really occurred to Harry that the last person Luna would want to joke about would be Draco Malfoy. Eventually, the silence started to bother him and he spoke up, again trying to create some sort of conversation.
"Uhm Seamus is having a party this weekend. Were you thinking of going?" Harry asked. He knew she probably got the invite. The old D.A members still used the coins to set little engagements. Typically they just lounged around and drank heavily while reminiscing about school. Harry was usually intentionally busy, but he figured he'd probably attend this one.
"I don't know," Luna said quietly. She still didn't look up at him and he just shrugged a little bit and went back to his food for a moment.
"You should. They're fun," he said without any real knowledge of if they were that fun or not. Even the ones he had attended he hadn't stuck around for very long. But he figured it was just a little white lie that wouldn't be that big of a deal in the end.
"Will you be there?" she asked.
"Probably," he nodded.
"Probably?" she asked.
"Well I was planning on it. But I never quite know what could happen at work. Barring any major catastrophe I'll be there," he said with a smile. Harry had long since learned that it was never a good idea to promise he'd be anywhere. Because he never really knew if he'd be able to make it or not.
Thankfully, most people understood. Ginny had been mildly annoyed when he'd missed a few of her early matches, especially because of how little leave they were granted at the Auror Academy. But she'd gotten over it, more or less, after a few weeks.
"Does that happen often?" She asked. He looked at her for a moment before she clarified. "The being called away at odd hours to work."
"Not really," Harry admitted. "Just when I've agreed to do something else or be somewhere else. Then it's almost a guarantee."
"Oh," she said. Harry got the strangest feeling she didn't really get, or care for, the joke. He frowned a little bit. His little lunch dates with Luna had never seemed this awkward. He wasn't quite sure what to expect when he'd arranged it, but he'd had something a bit more fun in his mind. He couldn't help but wonder just how much he'd ruined it by jumping down her throat about Daphne.
"Tell you what," he said. "You promise me you'll be there and I'll just apparate away from whatever I'm doing on Saturday and show up, regardless."
"I don't know," she frowned. "I'm not a big fan of parties."
"Me either," Harry admitted. "But it's always nice to see old friends."
"I guess," Luna said. Of course, if Harry thought about it, she wasn't really that close of friends with most of the people who would be attending. Still, he knew they'd be nice to her. They always were. Well, he assumed.
"So come on," he prodded. "It'll be fun."
"Fine," she sighed. "But I hope you're surrounded by Muggles when you have to apparate there so the only thing anyone talks about is how a lazy Harry Potter made an entire squad of Obliviators come out on a Saturday."
"Deal," Harry smiled at her.
"How was your food?" Luna asked changing the subject as she noticed that Harry's plate was empty while hers was still about half full. She'd stopped eating, though.
"Good, how's yours?" he asked, gazing down at her meal.
"Fine," she said quietly. "I don't usually eat much."
"I know," Harry laughed. She looked up at him, seeming even more surprised.
"How?" she asked.
"We go to lunch often enough, Luna. I don't think I've ever seen you finish an entire meal. Even if you just order a small salad," he teased. But the petite blond with him just frowned and shook her head a little bit.
"Sorry," she said quietly.
"Oh don't be sorry," he shrugged. "Not everyone can eat like Ron." And thankfully, she giggled just a little bit as he spoke.
"That would be unattractive, I think," Luna said.
"Very," Harry said. "You are looking pretty thin, though."
"I guess," Luna responded. "I'm just never that hungry."
"Well if it works for you," he said with a little shrug. And he reached over and took her hand in his, examining it carefully across the table. She didn't seem to mind. So he caressed her fingers a little bit and looked at her.
"It does," she said quietly.
"Dessert?" Harry asked. Luna just pressed her lips together.
"Okay," she nodded. So Harry flagged down a waitress and she returned moments later with a dessert menu. Harry let go of Luna's hand to read it. She seemed slightly disappointed by that.
"Anything sticking out?" he asked. She just frowned a little bit.
"Not really," she admitted.
"Tea?" he asked. She nodded. And so they decided to just sit and sip some tea. Harry ordered an Earl Grey, Luna settled on some type of red tea Harry hadn't ever heard of. She sipped it happily, though. And Harry just watched her for a few moments in awkward silence. Although Luna didn't seem to mind. So he didn't make anything of it.
Eventually their waitress returned with the bill and Harry paid it without question. Luna was mostly just gazing at him dreamily by that point. He could have sworn she was humming something under her breath, too. But again, he didn't comment.
After finishing their tea they decided to leave.
"Apparate or walk?" Harry asked as they stepped out into the warm late summer evening.
"Walk," Luna said.
"Alright," Harry smiled. And he took her hand as they rambled, slowly, back to her home. Harry didn't say anything and Luna just hummed, at least at first. After not too long she spoke up.
"So do you really think Malfoy was involved in the Parkinson murder?" she asked. He frowned a little bit before speaking.
"I'm really not supposed to discuss details of investigations, Luna," he sighed. He felt like they'd already gone over this. But Luna was usually persistent, in her own odd sort of way.
"Oh, I know," she frowned. "I just wish he was in Azkaban…" she let her voice trail off. Harry wasn't sure if he should press the issue or not.
"Why?" he asked. He knew she'd had the opportunity to testify at his trial, but she'd passed. He'd never asked her why. But neither she nor Ollivander had appeared. The prosecuting attorney said neither had wanted to, despite being crucial witnesses present at the manor.
"Because he's not a good person," Luna said quietly. She gripped Harry's hand tighter for a moment and part of him really wanted to ask just what happened at the manor before he dropped in. But he couldn't bring himself to do it.
"Unfortunately that's not usually enough to send someone to prison," Harry sighed. And he knew it was pretty much the perfectly incorrect thing to say. But, to his surprise, Luna just laughed quietly.
"I guess that would just make your job too easy, wouldn't it?" she asked. He laughed too.
"Yes, that would make it very easy," he said.
"Is it ever the opposite?" she asked.
"What, hard?" Harry blinked, fighting the urge to make the sex joke that came into his mind. But Luna just kept smiling at him, dreamily, and shook her head.
"No. I'm sure it's usually hard," she said without looking down. "I meant are they ever good people?"
"Sometimes," Harry admitted.
"How so?" she asked quietly.
"It can vary," Harry admitted. "It's circumstantial. Sometimes people are generally decent but in the wrong place at the wrong time. Sometimes it's self-defense. Sometimes it's just a lapse in judgment." Harry didn't really feel like talking much more about the situation. So he stopped talking and hoped that Luna wouldn't comment on it.
"What do you do?" she asked. Harry should have known better. Luna would always comment, whether or not you wanted her to ask about it.
"My job, usually," Harry shrugged. Luna just nodded a little bit.
"Is that it, really?" she asked. She turned and looked up at him as they walked, clearly confident enough to let Harry lead the way.
"Yes," Harry admitted. "I'm not paid to make philosophical decisions while I'm on a case, Luna. Usually we're faced with a crime and we need to find out who did it. It's nice to have a why, but often we just speculate on that in order to find the who."
"So you don't really care about the people you have to find?" Luna asked.
"That's a difficult question," Harry admitted.
"Why?" Luna asked, before Harry had to chance to really think about, and answer, her previous question.
"Because I don't really think about it that way. The law, for the most part, is fairly straight forward. Thankfully in my line of work there's very little grey area. Most of the time people we're sent out to find have really violated the rules. And done so willingly. It's very rare we have to pass some sort of moral judgment."
"I see," Luna said quietly as Harry paused for air.
"So really, we find them, and we hand them over to the authorities. It's up to the barristers to deal with the semantics and the morality and all of that. Sometimes they'll ask for our opinion if they think it could help with the case. But even that is rare. Mostly, I try not to think about it too much," Harry admitted.
"Why?" Luna asked again. Harry had the strangest feeling he wasn't going to get out of this conversation any time soon.
"We're trained not to," Harry admitted. Judgment calls and passing judgment were two of the main philosophical classes at the Auror Academy. They had to learn how to think far more quickly than they'd ever had to before. And they had to learn to analyze more soundly based on observations.
He couldn't help but think back to his first year of school, when he was so sure that Snape was behind everything. Yet his Auror-trained mind would have noticed that Quirrell was there at every turn as well, and would have found that every bit as odd as Snape.
"That seems mean," Luna said and Harry felt like he hadn't gotten his point across quite as well as he'd hoped.
"It's not. It's…analytical…for lack of a better term. In the field a lot of it is reactionary. We need to be able to observe our surroundings and make split second decisions. If you're thinking about why your opponent wound up in that situation, whether he's just evil or made a series of bad choices, it may cause you to react slower and you may lose," Harry said, hoping that came out better aloud than it had in his mind. But he still wasn't sure he was answering the questions as fully as Luna would have liked. He was rather relieved, though, that he could see her home in the distance, so he didn't expect the conversation would last much longer. Unless she invited him inside.
Of course, if she invited him inside, answering her questions would be on the backburner of his thoughts. He'd be far more interested in getting her out of her outfit. She was overdressed for the evening after all.
Harry had to pause for a moment to shake that thought out of his head. Not that it was a bad thought. It was just distracting. And he didn't want to get his hopes up.
"I guess if it helps," Luna shrugged and squeezed his hand once more.
"It does," Harry said. "Part of me wishes I thought more like an Auror during my Hogwarts years. Probably would have saved me a lot of time. Although hindsight is twenty-twenty and all that," he let his voice trail off. Luna just giggled.
"You'd have just been paranoid trying to figure out who was killing you every year, like Moody," she teased.
"Yes, but something tells me I probably should have been," he smiled at her.
"Perhaps," she shrugged. "Thanks for walking me home."
"Thanks for accompanying me to dinner," he countered as they stepped up to her door. She stood there and took his other hand in hers, smiling up at him.
"I had a good time," she said.
"Me too," he responded. And she just kept looking at him with her surprised blue eyes. Harry didn't say anything, but rather just smiled back at her. And they just stood there, moments passing slowly as the blush spread up Luna's cheeks.
"Can we do this again?" she asked quietly.
"Of course," he smiled. "And I'll see you on Saturday for Seamus's party."
"Oh," she frowned. "I forgot about that."
"I better run into you there," he laughed.
"You will," she said. "Assuming you don't get called away on Auror business."
"I'll be apparating to the party regardless, remember?" he teased. She nodded a little bit and let go of his hands.
"Oh yes. In front of the Muggles."
"If need be."
"Well good night, Harry," she said quietly. Harry couldn't help but think she looked maybe a touch disappointed. But he just smiled at her and returned the farewell.
"Good night, Luna." And he waited for her to duck inside her home before he apparated away.
But he didn't apparate to his house, as he had intended. Instead he popped back into the world outside of Miss Greengrass's home. He walked up to the door, but paused outside. He wasn't really sure what else he could do. He knew he shouldn't have been there. But Luna's words had been bothering him far more than they probably should have. It would have been so much easier to just ambush her at the ministry. But he didn't want to wait. So he reached up and knocked on her door.
There was no response.
So he rang the buzzer.
Again there was no response. He kept knocking and buzzing and waiting. But there weren't any lights on in her house. And none turned on. And she didn't answer. After about twenty minutes he gave up. Purely because he didn't think that he should disrupt the neighborhood any further. Although, thankfully, no one had come to yell at him.
A very small part of him debated breaking into her home. But that would have been very rude. Not to mention illegal and would screw him if she wound up being involved in the case.
He debated waiting for her. But he couldn't sit out there all evening and expect to be a competent Auror in the morning. So instead he apparated to his home.
"Kreacher," he said immediately. He knew the elf didn't really like coming to his apartment, but it came when called.
"Master," it said, passively.
"Find me some booze," he said.
"Does master have a preference?"
"Whiskey of some sort, and a glass with some ice," Harry ordered. He walked toward his living room and by the time he sat across his couch a bottle of fire-whiskey and a glass occupied his end table. He poured the alcohol into the glass and took a deep sip. After he refilled it he let his thoughts shift back to the case.
Nothing really new came to his mind. He wondered idly if Draco returned home at all during the day, but he figured that if he had, Hannah, or whoever else was watching his home, would have sent for him.
He knew he should have gone to bed. But he wasn't tired. So he'd let the alcohol help with that. It may make rising in the morning more difficult, but it would help in the short term.
So he sipped the whiskey in his rather dark living room. Sometimes he'd stare out a window at the cityscape. But mostly he just tried to think of something useful. He didn't succeed.
So instead his thoughts shifted back to the Auror Academy. Specifically he thought of the aftermath of Oxford.
He'd showered immediately after returning to his dormitory. He'd spent far longer in the water than he would have ever normally considered. Part of him thought that maybe if he spent far too much time showering he'd annoy his roommate enough to have him come back. He knew it was silly. But he really didn't want to face the fact that even more people had died in the war he'd tried so hard to end at Hogwarts.
His only hope was that the Battle of Oxford would be the last engagement they'd have to deal with.
Eventually he focused on washing the dirt, blood, and other assorted grime from his body. It seemed to take an eternity, but soon enough he finally felt clean again. And when that moment came he stepped out of the water and took the time to towel himself off.
He brushed his teeth, purely because it seemed like the last thing to do to really make himself feel clean again. But he didn't bother with his hair. He just dried it to the point of not being annoying.
Harry wrapped the towel around his waist and walked back into his living quarters. That really wasn't calling it much. The room held two beds, two desks and two dressers. But they had ample room, thanks to magic. As a whole, it was probably about the same size as the boy's dormitory at Hogwarts. Part of him thought he should gather up his roommates things, but that would be admitting the other man wasn't coming back. So he left them out and went to sit at his desk.
He started on a report of the battle, purely because he didn't know what else to do. Elder Aurors advised writing down as much as you could, purely to keep a record of all incidents that could then be backed up by memory evidence if necessary.
It was something that Harry wasn't sure of the advantages on. But it was much easier to share the written word than memories, so he was trying to get into the habit. He spent the better part of an hour scratching at the paper, recounting what happened in the battle. He tried to keep his opinion out of the recounting. But it was harder than he expected.
A soft rapping on his door distracted him though. For a moment, he thought it may be his roommate, but the man had a key. And Harry hadn't bothered to lock the door anyway. So he stood and walked over to it.
"Hannah?" he said, legitimately surprised as he opened the door.
"Couldn't sleep either?" she asked. She was only wearing a white bathrobe, her hair was still damp as well. He swallowed hard as he looked at her. One of the first rules of the academy was to not get intimate with fellow trainees. It was believed to be too distracting.
"Hadn't tried," Harry said. And he stepped away from the door, allowing her room to enter, despite his better judgment. She slipped into his room and looked at him.
"I've been rolling around for like an hour," Hannah admitted. "But I can't get the images out of my head."
"I was trying to write a report," Harry commented with a shrug of his shoulders.
"I should have probably done that," she said, frowning and looking toward his desk where the report sat.
"It's not helping," Harry sighed. "It's just making me relive it." Hannah just nodded as he finished speaking and stood, somewhat awkwardly, in the middle of his room.
"Did your roommate come back?" she asked quietly.
"Not yet," Harry said, still not quite giving up hope.
"Mine either," Hannah frowned.
"It's been a long day," Harry sighed.
"That's an understatement," Hannah responded. "I wish I could just crawl into a bathtub and soak for hours."
"Why don't you?" Harry asked, tilting his head to the side.
"No bathtub in the dorms, just showers," Hannah said.
"Says the witch," Harry commented.
"Have you tried to magically alter anything in your room?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest and looking slightly annoyed.
"Uh, no," Harry admitted.
"Well there's some sort of nullification charm on it. Nothing you do lasts more than a couple of seconds," Hannah explained.
"That's disappointing," Harry admitted. Frankly, it hadn't ever occurred to him to charm something in the room. They were furnished with everything they would need for daily use, and it wasn't like Harry spent a lot of time in the dormitory, anyway. He was pretty much only there to sleep and shower.
"Very," She said, taking a step closer to him in the room. They still were just standing around and it was slightly awkward. Harry looked at her and then just swallowed hard.
"I just noticed something," he said quietly.
"What's that?" she asked, looking up at him.
"You're only wearing a bathrobe," he said.
"And you're only wearing a towel," she commented. He frowned and realized he should have probably gotten dressed. What was he thinking just sitting around in a towel? But he really hadn't expected anyone to come knocking.
And, while he was busy scolding himself about his lack of attire, he didn't notice that she closed the gap between them. At least until her lips were pressing against his. He kissed her back, more out of instinct than anything else. But he caught himself, after a moment.
"Hannah," he said, stepping back. She'd wrapped her arms around him and held him even as he moved away.
"Harry," she said quietly, just staring up at him, her eyes almost begging him to step back toward her.
"I'm with Ginny," he said quietly. He knew he should have sounded a bit more sure of himself as he said it. But at least he got the words out. To his surprise, though, Hannah just shrugged her shoulders.
"And I'm with Ernie," she countered. He vaguely remembered something to that effect. And then she kissed him again.
"So we shouldn't do this," Harry said, slipping his lips away from hers.
"Probably not," she admitted, tracing her lips across his neck.
"Hannah," he said, thinking of nothing to do that would dissuade her. But his problem lay more in the fact that he didn't really want to dissuade her.
"Shush, Harry. I don't know about you, but I really need a reason to stay. Every part of me wants to leave and never come back. But we're going to need Aurors," she paused and took his hands. Before he realized it they were resting on the front of her robe, where it tied around her body. "And I need someone to hold me right now. And to love me. And we're both adults. And I'm certainly not going to tell anyone. So it's up to you, Harry."
So Harry found himself staring down at Hannah Abbott. Her blonde hair was still damp and a mess, her blue eyes were locked on his, and he knew that all he had to do to have her naked and make her his was pull slightly on the loose tie of her bathrobe.
But he hesitated. It was wrong. He didn't want to cheat on Ginny. She didn't deserve that. He could picture her still waiting for him at school. She'd been so supportive with his Auror training, too.
Still, she was so far away. And he felt much the same way Hannah described. And suddenly the decision seemed so easy. He gave her robe a tug and moved her to his bed.
After, he just lay there, staring up at the ceiling in his dark dormitory. Hannah was wedged into the crook of his arm. She didn't say anything. He suspected she was sleeping. For a moment, he felt completely off. Like everything was wrong and he'd just made a gigantic mistake.
But it had been so wonderful. And he felt much better, at least physically, than he had earlier in the evening. He shifted slightly in the bed, attempting to get a little more comfortable. Hannah let out a soft noise and spoke.
"Do you want me to leave?" she asked, her voice trailing off in the darkness. Harry paused and thought. He did want her to leave. Having her there just enforced everything they'd done. And everything that he knew was wrong.
But she felt so nice cuddled up next to him. Her body was so warm and so soft. And he knew he certainly didn't want her anywhere else at that time. If he was honest, though, his answer really did surprise him a little.
"No," he said. "That's alright. Sorry, arm was just falling asleep."
"Oh," she sighed and rolled onto her side, her back to him. "Spoon me?"
"Okay," Harry said and obeyed. Moments later he was asleep.
Even years later he had a hard time really quantifying his relationship with Hannah Abbot. After Oxford they'd spent another two months finishing their training at the Auror Academy. It was probably excessive at that point, but since there were so few members of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, former trainees found themselves instructing the newest of recruits.
Both Harry and Hannah were happy to help out.
Everything changed, though. Neither of their roommates returned. His was found dead the next morning during the cleanup efforts in Oxford. Her was injured and then just went home.
But they hadn't stayed alone for long. She came to his dormitory every evening. And they'd talk about everything. Really everything. Just about any topic came up at some point. A lot of it was reminiscing about friends and school. But some of it was talking of the future and their interests. They'd finish every evening in one another's arms and the started every morning the same way.
Harry paused for a moment, remembering those nights at the Academy. In his mind, every moment had certainly been worth it. He poured himself more whiskey and went back to staring outside.
Things changed when they matriculated. They hadn't been that shocked they'd been assigned as partners. They'd worked very well out of the chute and had the closest thing to seniority.
As they moved back to their own homes they really only saw each other at work. They decided, without really saying anything to each other, that they needed to be more professional. So they didn't touch. And it worked very well. At least until they went off to Birmingham.
Harry had never seen Hannah as distraught by a case as when they spent a month looking for Burick. He knew she wasn't going to let him get away, even if they couldn't find any evidence of who was actually committing the crimes.
At some point they'd decided to just get a hotel in Birmingham. It was easier than apparating in and out every day, and they could spend their evenings going over the case. One night, late, she'd crawled into his bed and it was like they were back at the Academy. By that point, he'd recently broken things off with Ginny, but she was still with Ernie.
They didn't talk about that, though. And Harry had to admit, he was almost disappointed when they caught Burick.
And then she'd broken up with Ernie. He'd thrown a punch at her. Harry never asked what they'd argued about. He didn't think it was any of his business. But deep down he was pretty sure he knew.
Her options had been staying with her parents or intruding upon Susan Bones. So he'd told her he had a spare room at his apartment. She never saw it.
She'd spent five days with him in the master bedroom before finding her own place. But now it was back to the normal, professional relationship. They never really talked about the things they did. Sometimes, in private, something got referenced, but that was it.
His fire roaring pulled him back to reality.
"Potter, you awake?" her voice rang out through his apartment. He nodded a bit, stood, and walked over to the fireplace.
"Yes, What's up, Hannah? I was just thinking about you..." he let his voice trail off.
"Fun," she said dryly. She must have noticed the glass in his hand, too. "Are you drunk?"
"Not yet," he admitted. "Come over?"
"Harry…" She looked as surprised as he felt that he'd asked. They both knew exactly what he was asking, too.
"Please?"
"Harry…"
"Hannah, please?" he asked again. He saw her fiery face press its lips together for a moment.
"This weekend?" she asked. And it was a better answer than he suspected. He was surprised he'd even worked up the courage to ask.
"Okay," he said.
"Now you know that park on Crown?"
"Yeah. What about it?"
"Meet me there as soon as you can. We've got another one." Her words sobered him up immediately. He nodded and started checking his pockets, making sure he had both wands and his department credentials.
"I'll be there in a few."
Author's Note: I'm, once again, looking for another beta to look over this story. PM me if you're interested. Chapters 8 is complete and I just need to edit it, but since I'd rather finish up chapter 9, which is about half done, I'll probably hope my betas respond with it at some point. I just got sick of sitting on seven.
Thanks for reading. As always the best way to contact me is through PM on the site.