Another chapter! No warnings for this one, but... eh. You'll see.

Some people will be happy, me thinks, that the story is moving forwards. :) Also, I'm pretty sure this is the longest chapter so far! ^^

Hold Your Head High

Chapter 7

Life returned to as close to normal as post-war could become after that.

If Harry had thought being on the run was hard -and it had been- then dealing with the post-war wizarding world was stressful to a ridiculous degree in a way running for your life as Undesirable nr 1 hadn't quite managed.

There were funerals, repairs, trials, catching the few Death Eaters that had escaped the law so far, not to mention the fact that Harry's fame and popularity had sky-rocketed to never before seen heights.

She hated it, but if it meant that she could give people hope for the future, then Harry would endure it for now.

Things had begun to calm down when Hermione caught Harry in the Burrow one morning, before the two of them were heading to the Ministry to talk to Kingsley about yet another thing he wanted either their input on -Hermione- or public support for -Harry. That wasn't to say Kingsley didn't value Harry's mind, but she was well aware where her talents lay, and she was far more an action kind of person than a thinker.

"Harry, can we talk for a moment?" Hermione said before Harry could get up from the table after finishing the breakfast Molly had made them. The woman herself had already hurried off to take care of something else. She'd been trying to keep as busy as possible after Fred died, and Fleur had recently discovered she was pregnant. She'd spent quite a bit of time with her daughter-in-law, trying to focus on the future and on happier things than the fact that one of her children hadn't made it out of the Battle of Hogwarts alive.

"What is it?" Harry asked, a bit distracted by her thoughts.

"Harry, do you remember when we were thirteen and I Matured?" Hermione began slowly, hands folded neatly on the table between them, as if it were an ornate desk instead of a worn kitchen table. "I promised you that even though I wasn't an Omega, I would still help you fight for Omega rights?"

"Yes." Harry nodded, her full attention on Hermione now.

"Good! Because I feel like this is the best opportunity we could ever have to really make a difference." The woman continued briskly, smiling slightly at Harry, who smiled back. "I've talked through it with Kingsley a few times recently, and he agrees with me."

"So what's the problem?" Harry asked, knowing that there was a catch in there somewhere. Hermione needed her to do something or she wouldn't have brought it up when they were both so busy.

"Harry," Hermione began, looking like she was gearing up for a proper speech, "it's well known that you are an Omega by now." Harry nodded when Hermione paused pointedly. "But when you mask your scent until it's impossible to pick up, it's easy for the majority of people to 'forget' and treat you like a Beta instead." The young woman explained patiently.

Harry frowned and wondered when Hermione would get to the point, even as she felt a sense of growing dread; she thought she knew where this was going.

"What I'm trying to say," Hermione continued, as if she had read Harry's thoughts, "Is that if we want to really change the way people think of and treat Omegas, then we've got to start somewhere." She said, giving Harry another pointed look.

"And you wand me to go around broadcasting my gender designation." Harry concluded neutrally.

Hermione nodded. "People can't deny the truth if they can smell your Omega pheromones, Harry! And you killed Voldemort! I'd like to see anyone try and tell you how weak and submissive you are!" She exclaimed, looking ferociously vindictive. The only thing that was missing was the victory pose.

"Right." Harry said flatly, trying to see how people would react to her on a general basis if they could smell her. "I'm not saying 'No', but I can't tell you that this doesn't sound like a disaster in the making."

"I'm not saying you have to flare hard enough to drive the Alphas from their minds, Harry." Hermione sighed with a long-suffering air, as if she thought Harry really should be able to figure these things out on her own by now. "We went over this when you dated Blaise, didn't we? Just, get used to letting out a fraction of your scent on a regular basis."

Harry thought it over. "I suppose I could do that." She eventually conceded. "How does that play into your excessive plans?" She asked next, raising an unimpressed eyebrow when Hermione looked like she was going to deny her plotting-tendencies.

"It will make people really notice." Hermione told her with a grudgingly amused smile. "It will force them to realise that women aren't useless for anything but rearing children just because they are Omega." She declared hotly.

Harry sighed. She had originally wanted to become an Auror, and while Kingsley had offered to support her through it, Harry couldn't say that the prospect of being the fore-runner there as well was very tempting. And as it was, Harry was thinking bigger.

There were no Omega in the Auror forces, and while Beta women were fairly common, Omega apparently weren't supposed to be sent out on the front-lines.

Hah!

That wasn't what people had been saying at the end of fifth year and all of sixth year when Voldemort moved out into the open, and it's not like anyone tried to stop her when she was facing down the Dark Lord.

'Useless Omega', right.

Harry would love to stomp a few big-headed Alphas on the Auror corps into the ground, but she was aiming higher.

For once, Harry was thinking big. She didn't like the spot-light, but she wasn't getting rid of it anytime soon and if she could use her fame for anything, brightening the future for Omegas everywhere in the Wizarding world, then Harry would do so with pleasure.

The fact that she had Hermione, Ginny and Luna there to help her all but ascertained her success.

Being on good foot with the Minister of Magic didn't hurt either.

"I'm writing a set of Equality Laws with Kingsley and Susan Bones that will include Muggleborns and Omegas; everyone." Hermione said with a smug smile. "Those aren't anywhere near finished yet, of course, but if we start to lay the groundwork now, there will be less resistance from 'stuffy Alphas' later on." She smirked. "So can you please start going about your days smelling temptingly like an Omega cupcake from now on, Harry? And can I please be there with you today to see the looks on people's faces when they are reminded?"

Harry snorted. "You're going to force me to go on a whole slew of fund raisers and such, aren't you?" She questioned wryly as she leaned back in her seat and focused on the amount of pheromones she let out into the air around her.

"That will be part of it eventually, yeah." Hermione nodded. "But that's just a fraction of it. We actually started working for Omega rights years ago, you know." She continued seriously. "All of fifth year, with Umbridge." Her mouth twisted distastefully at the mention of the vile woman. She'd spend the rest of her days in Azkaban for her actions before and during the war but that didn't erase everything she'd done. Harry would have the scars on the back of her hand for the rest of her life.

"What she was doing was despicable and I wasn't going to stand for it." Harry said calmly, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I know." Hermione smiled tenderly at her. As if she was asking her with her eyes to never change. "The thing is, Omega all over the wizarding world started cutting their hair short in a show of solidarity –that you started- that I hope we can replicate."

"Technically, it was Angelina who started it." Harry muttered, but nodded to show she understood. "Just, let me know before you toss me into anything, please?" She practically begged.

Hermione looked affronted. "Of course! What do you think I'm doing right now?"

"Just, needed to say that."

They left for the Ministry shortly after that and Harry spent the rest of the day enduring gob-smacked stares. Mostly by Alphas, but the occasional Omega as well.

Kingsley had had to blink quickly a few times before he'd been able to snap himself out of it, but all in all, that was one of the mildest reactions she got all day.

(The only one who beat him out entirely was George, who she met up with for lunch, and he didn't react at all, just pulled her close for a tight hug and then asked her how she'd been lately in a quiet voice. Harry really did love him and she shared every inch of his pain over Fred's loss.)

.

While Hermione plotted, planned and sorted out the Ministry with Kingsley, Harry was flitting all over the country hunting Death Eaters, attending too many trials to count without falling into depression, helping with restoring Hogwarts and trying to get her life in order.

Just because the war had been won, everything she had survived the last few years hadn't just... magically disappeared.

Which was why she spent many nights either sitting quietly with George in his shop while the man in question worked on his inventions -equally as unable to sleep as Harry- or ended up walking around outside.

This particular night, Harry had ended up apparating to London on a whim and was stalking the streets like she was trying to outrun her own demons. Being still made her skin crawl, as if someone was watching her and just waiting for the opportunity to pounce.

Molly was always worrying about Harry coming across more trouble than she could handle, but Harry wasn't really concerned.

After Voldemort and the war, the thought of normal people threatening her wasn't frightening. She didn't think she was being arrogant, just... it couldn't be worse than what she had already survived.

It was currently very late -or early, depending on how you looked at it- and most buildings were closed and dark. There were very little, if any, people other than Harry around and she enjoyed the silence.

Turning left on a spur of the moment decision, Harry's gaze was drawn to the cheerful lights illuminating one building up ahead.

When she got closer, she could see that it was a gym of some sort, and the sign above the door claimed it to be open 24/7. Harry slowed to a stop in front of the door, staring up at the sign. It wasn't like she didn't have the money to check it out; Kingsley and Bill had both helped her untangle most of the mess at Gringotts and Hermione had demanded that she keep at least some Muggle money on her if she insisted on roaming the Muggle world at night.

And while she wasn't familiar with kick-boxing, at least she knew a little about boxing, and it sounded like it could be interesting.

See what all the fuss Dudley had made about it was all about.

Harry pushed the door open and strolled into the well-lit facility, looking around with weary curiosity.

"Excuse me, miss. Can I help you?" Someone called out a moment later.

Harry turned to address the owner of the voice; she had spotted him the moment she stepped through the door, but had ended up scanning the rest of the place instead of showing that she had instantly zeroed in on him.

"Do you teach this kick-boxing thing regardless what time it is?" She asked, looking the man over.

He was tall, well-muscled and with short cropped brown hair. She supposed some would call him intimidating, but all Harry could think was that he had very kind eyes. When he stepped closer, it was easy to determine that he was also a Beta. Perfect.

"Depends. Why're you asking?" He asked, looking Harry over like he thought this was some sort of prank. Did Harry look like a drunk teenager? And it was supposed to be Tuesday. Well, Wednesday, now.

"Because I'd like to try it." Harry said, raising a pointed eyebrow at the man. What did he think? "Is now a good time or do you want me to come back?"

The man's eyebrows were slowly climbing towards his hairline. "You're aware that lessons are held in exchange for an hourly fee, right?" Harry didn't think that deserved an answer, so she just waited for the Beta male to get on with it. "Alright, kid." He finally relented.

Harry smiled slightly with wry amusement and followed the man further into the gym. She didn't think anyone had called her a kid in... well. Ages, that was for sure.

As the man -Robert, he introduced himself- was explaining how this worked, the fees he were expecting -not a problem- and what they would start with, Harry was taking off her jacket.

She supposed it was a good thing she usually dressed for comfort rather than style on her nightly walks, because she wouldn't have any problem working out in the sweatpants she was currently wearing, or the long-sleeved shirt.

Sports bras had become something of a standard wear lately, because regular bras were still painful to wear too long at a time. The steel wire pressed a little too close to the fresh curse scar on her chest.

"You're going to wear that shirt?" Robert question sceptically when he was done explaining, to which Harry nodded shortly.

She may just be eighteen, but after all the shit she'd been through, she had plenty of scars and she didn't particularly enjoy people gawking at them.

"Alright then." Robert sighed, in a long-suffering manner. Like he thought Harry was just yet another obnoxious teenager. "This is the most basic, default position-" He began to explain as he fell into a slight crouch that Harry eyed thoughtfully a moment before she did her best to copy every detail of.

And so it went. Harry was taught how to punch properly, how to kick and how to block.

By the end of the lesson, she was feeling pleasantly relaxed and her mind had quieted down, for once. And Robert looked less like he was indulging a child with long-suffering patience and more like he was properly focused on teaching an equal.

Harry whole-heartedly approved the shift in attitude.

"So do I have to book another lesson in advance or can I just drop in whenever?" Harry asked as she picked up her jacket and followed Robert back to the reception desk by the door.

"Feel free to come back whenever the mood strikes you, kid. Nights are usually calm, but we do have a few regulars who like to come around and work out." Robert shrugged as he rang up what she owed.

Harry absently went through her jacket pockets for the pounds she'd stuffed into one of them and she smiled.

"Sounds great. I'll make sure to come back, then." She said, finally pulling out the wad of notes and then counting out what she owed, politely ignoring the way Robert was side-eyeing her. Like he thought she was a criminal or something.

She supposed she looked the part, she mused as she left. And with things like Ministry infiltration and bank robbing on her résumé, he wasn't exactly wrong, either.

.

Hermione was planning to leave for Australia to find her parents and hopefully bring them back to England, but before that, Harry, Hermione, Ginny and Luna were all apparently having a slumber party.

Because that was supposedly what normal teenagers did and Ginny wanted to get together just the girls for some quality time.

"Okay, so what are you supposed to do on these things?" Harry asked with a sigh, plopping down on one of the mattresses they had crammed into Ginny's room in the Burrow, hugging a pillow to her stomach.

"Braid each other's hair?" Luna suggested with a dreamy smile.

"Sure, we can do that." Ginny nodded with a grin. "But what I really want to do is have some serious girl talk!"

Harry and Hermione exchanged a slightly wary look.

"Uh-huh. And that means?" Harry asked slowly, eyeing the redhead sitting in front of her like she had just said she wanted to run naked through the Great Hall during lunch. Together.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "We haven't really gotten a chance to catch up lately, and I thought this would be a nice idea." She explained in a more serious voice. "That we can talk about boys and be silly is just a bonus."

Hermione groaned. "You do realise that the only 'boy' in my life is your brother?" She questioned, looking like she was preparing herself to be mortified for most of the rest of the night anyway.

"I'm prepared to ignore that detail for female bonding time." Ginny waved it away with a dismissive hand. "So! Any men in your lives lately I haven't heard about?" She asked and somehow managed to leer at Luna and Harry at the same time, even though they were sitting on either side of Hermione.

That set the tone for the rest of the night.

Harry could admit that she was having more fun than she had initially imagined, and they were soon laughing at Ginny's latest disastrous attempt at dating.

"Hey!" Ginny affected an affronted look, smacking Harry on the arm. "What about you? I still can't believe you didn't go for it when you were dating Zabini! That Alpha is hot and you seriously need to lose your virginity and live a little!" The redhead joked.

Harry choked on the butterbeer they had stocked up on in preparation.

"Ginny!" She gasped once she could speak again. "I can't believe you just said that!"

Hermione had clapped both hands over her face and was giggling hysterically into her palms, while Luna merely looked greatly entertained.

"And besides, I don't need to lose my virginity." Harry added loftily, taking another sip of butterbeer.

"Please, Harry. If anyone here deserves some pleasure with no strings attached, it's you." Ginny shot back with a wicked grin but genuine warmth and concern in her brown eyes.

"I think, what Harry meant was that she has already lost her virginity." Luna joined the conversation with all the grace of one of her mystical creatures that no one else ever believed in.

Ginny and Hermione instantly stopped snickering and Harry sent Luna a vaguely betrayed look.

"I thought you wouldn't tell!" She accused teasingly.

"Merlin, I can't believe it!" Hermione cried, one hand held dramatically over her chest. "You had sex and you didn't tell me!?" There was some genuine hurt in Hermione's dramatics, so Harry shrugged and decided to answer the question seriously.

"It was more for the physical comfort that any love involved, and all of us have been so busy. When, exactly, was I supposed to pull you aside just to go, 'Oh, and Hermione, I've had sex'." She mused wryly, raising an eyebrow at her best friend.

Hermione grimaced slightly, but conceded the point.

"So who was it?" Ginny demanded once she was sure all hurt feelings had been soothed. "When?" She added with a speculative look on her freckled face, as if she was thinking back and trying to figure it out on her own.

"Um, Neville, actually." Harry admitted with a very slight blush. "And after the Battle." She added quietly. She frowned down on her butterbeer bottle. Was that a horrible thing? That she had wanted comfort after one of the worst nights of her life? That she had wanted to feel alive?

Ginny nudged her with one shoulder and Hermione wrapped an arm around her back.

"Was it nice?" Her bushy haired friend asked with a smile.

"It was." Harry grinned slightly. "Not enough to want to do it again; with him!" She quickly explained at the speculative, calculating glances that began to travel around their small numbers. "But I'm glad to have shared my first time with Neville." She added sincerely. "I trust him." She shrugged uncomfortably at the understanding looks that garnered.

Hermione hugged her again and Luna smiled encouragingly at her when Ginny began to tell them about a date she'd gone on last week, which had apparently not ended all that well.

.

Hermione went off to Australia with Ron in tow.

Harry was happy for them; they deserved some time to themselves to sort their new relationship out and get away from all the madness in England. And find Hermione's parents.

Harry's own escape had unexpectedly turned out to be the small gym she had stumbled over in London.

At least Molly was happy she was no longer roaming around aimlessly at night where she was alone and 'vulnerable'.

There was just something immensely satisfying about learning how to throw a proper punch and how to make it really hurt.

"Hey, Harry." Robert called when he spotted her by the door. "Just give me a moment." He added, and Harry could see that he was helping a middle-aged man with some of the training equipment that was taking up part of the main room.

Harry took one look at him and guessed he had some sort of stressful night job and had come here to wind down.

Not another insomniac like Smith, at least, that was for sure, who liked to be on one of the treadmills until he was ready to collapse, before he could go back home and hopefully catch a few hours' sleep.

Harry still stuck out like a sore thumb in the place, but she liked coming here.

She was short and slight -especially compared to most of the guys she had seen around the place- and she always wore long sleeves and sweatpants that covered as much of her skin as possible, but Robert never asked questions that didn't have anything with her training to do and the rest left her alone.

She had a feeling she had Robert to thank for that.

"Hey, Robert." She spoke up during a short break, mostly so they could drink a bit of water before continuing. "Are you ever here during the day?"

"Sometimes. Why? Thinking of ditching the night crowd?" Robert fired back with a crooked smile.

Harry shrugged. "My schedule will be a little less crazy for a while, and I was thinking it might be nice to get in a few more hours' training."

She endured Robert's long, probing look before putting down her water bottle and facing him fully.

"Harry, I hope you don't mind me asking but, if your schedule has been that 'crazy' why do you come here instead of getting a few more hours' sleep?" He finally settled on asking, looking perfectly serious.

Harry contemplated the question and what to tell him for a few seconds, before letting out a tired sigh.

"If I could sleep, I would. Trust me." She muttered, frowning slightly as she eyed the man. "Coming here is better than wandering aimlessly." She finished with a placid shrug.

Robert frowned, but nodded. If it was the thought of her being unable to sleep or wandering London at night on her own that made him frown, she couldn't tell.

"I live close by, so if you come around during the day, I'll tell the guys to give me a call and I'll come just for you if I'm available." He said, giving her a playful wink.

Harry snorted and gave him a dubious once-over. "One might think you've grown fond of me."

"Don't worry, midget. I just want to make sure no one else can take credit for your fighting prowess." Robert assured her with over-done care.

Harry rolled her eyes and then practice continued.

.

With things in the wizarding world finally calmed down enough that everyone weren't constantly nagging for her attention, Ron and Hermione out of the country and her other friends off doing their own things, Harry had more time on her hands than she really knew what to do with.

(George was busy running the shop, Neville had joined the Aurors -and had promised to knock some sense into a few thick heads for her- and Luna was helping her dad bring the Quibbler back to life and run the newspaper.)

She could only take so many hours cooped up in the Burrow with Molly and or a pregnant Fleur, so she soon found herself walking through the door to the gym she had come to frequent every other night when her nightmares chased her out of bed.

She couldn't bother Andromeda and Teddy all the time either, so.

It was quite different during the day, she could tell at a glance.

There were several people using the machines on the floor -mainly men, though one of the people on staff was a woman, Beta- and one or two personal lessons were in session further back.

"Can I help you, kid?" A voice asked from behind the reception counter. Harry turned to the bloke, who looked like he might have been a military man once.

"Is Robert in right now?" She asked evenly, disregarding the man's scrutiny with practised ease. "Could you call him and see if he's got time to come here for a session?" She continued when the man gave her a negative answer to her first question.

Harry could practically see the light go on in his eyes.

"You're 'Harry'." He stated after a lengthy pause.

"That would be me." Harry agreed mildly. Robert had told her that he had mentioned her to some of his co-workers. It wasn't a surprise. "And you're Mr Hunt." She continued with a once-over of her own.

Gregory Hunt, Robert had told her, was an older man with dark brown, greying hair and blue eyes. Had, in fact, been in the military when he was younger.

He was also the one in charge of this gym.

"I'll ring him up, Missy." Hunt told her with a nod, picking up the phone that was sitting on the desk.

Harry felt a strange twitch pull on some of her facial muscles at the 'Missy' but didn't say anything.

She was here for a work-out, not to pick fights with greying Alphas about how to address women properly.

Harry sourly shoved her hands deeper into her jacket pockets. She knew without hesitation that if Robert couldn't come, she'd leave and come back another day, because while not all the men present were Alphas, there was enough testosterone in the air to choke on, and Harry wasn't interested.

Robert treated her with respect and didn't ask questions about her weird quirks or knee-jerk reflexes, and she wasn't stupid enough to expect that from anyone else. She'd been lucky once, no way in hell would she be so twice.

"He'll come." Hunt's voice brought her out of her darkening thoughts and Harry nodded. "Give it ten to fifteen minutes, and he'll be here."

"Great." Harry muttered and kicked off her shoes. Pushing them to one side where they wouldn't be in the way, Harry then walked across the large room to the area she and Robert usually occupied, minding her own business.

"Excuse me, can I help you?" The woman -Marie or something? Or was it Mary?- asked politely, looking Harry over with curious interest.

"No, thank you." Harry replied with nothing more than a glance.

The woman blinked, gave a shrug and then went on her way, which suited Harry perfectly. She garnered quite some interest where she was waiting for Robert, stretching out her muscles in preparation for the punishing lesson she was here for.

Robert had learned early on not to pull his punches, and Harry appreciated it.

No one went about it half-arsed in a real fight and Harry had been in enough tight spots to fully appreciate the man dropping the silk gloves about five minutes into their first training session.

"Are you lost, lass?" One 'helpful' man asked her after five minutes of pleasantly undisturbed stretching.

"Nope." Harry didn't look up from her warm-up. She'd seen him approach in one of the mirrors that coated the walls at regular intervals, and wasn't surprised he had addressed her. "Please don't bother me." She added, because she wasn't here to chat with condescending arseholes.

She took a discreet whiff, and of course he was an Alpha.

Harry barely managed to keep from rolling her eyes.

Why. Just... why.

"No need to be rude, you know," The man continued, clearly not taking the very obvious hint that Harry didn't want to talk to him. "I was just wonderin' if you'd like me to show you how some of the machines work." The idiot said with what he probably thought was a charming smile.

Harry wasn't impressed. "Look, I'm not interested." She answered shortly, attempting to be civil. She'd had another bad night, and she always had a shorter temper the next day after particularly vicious nightmares.

She got to re-live the highlights of the war, lucky her! Never mind all the shit that had happened before the war even started.

"So if you could leave me alone, I'd appreciate it." She added, because this bloke just didn't seem to want to accept defeat.

"I'm just trying to be helpful." He said, putting his hand on her shoulder and Harry's patience snapped. She imagined she could hear the sound of it breaking echoing throughout the room.

Harry bared her teeth in warning and growled because she did NOT like Alphas touching her without her permission!

The moron bothering her was so startled that he didn't even defend himself when Harry bodily sent him stumbling away from her with a half-hearted knee to the stomach. If she'd wanted to, she could have aimed a little lower...

"What's going on here?" Robert asked, eyeing Harry warily before turning narrowed eyes on the idiot Alpha.

It was very obvious the Beta male had just arrived and missed most of the exchange. The fact that he had instantly taken Harry's side simply cemented the fact that Harry was sticking with Robert or leaving the gym.

There were other gyms in London and at least some of them had to have a few decent guys on payroll.

"Don't touch me without permission, you fucking ass!" Harry spat at the still wheezing Alpha, a hint of a growl underlining her words.

"Right." Robert said with an unimpressed look at the downed idiot, "I'd appreciate it if you didn't harass my client, Clint."

'Clint' spluttered breathlessly, glaring alternately at Harry and Robert in turn.

Robert didn't give him a chance to speak up, though, because he immediately turned to Harry.

"Let's start our session, shall we, Harry?" He asked in a cheerful, chipper voice that felt a bit out of place.

Harry was still feeling a bit too worked up to properly respond in an appropriate manner, so she just gave a tense nod and stepped away from 'Clint'.

.

If that had been the end of it, Harry would have been if not happy, then at least content.

She didn't know if Clint the Alpha kept provoking her because she had wounded his pride beyond repair, or because he was just that thickheaded and couldn't recognize a flat 'No' when he was slapped in the face with it, but he just refused to leave her alone.

Harry didn't exactly keep to a regular schedule, so it took a while before Harry and Clint crossed paths again, but when they did, Harry could safely say she hadn't expected the Alpha to resort to such... juvenile methods.

She had just arrived to the gym, put away her shoes and warmed up.

Robert called out a greeting and Harry turned to smile at him, only to tense at the look on the man's face. He wasn't looking at Harry, though, but slightly behind and to the side of her.

Harry whirled around, falling into a ready stance, but she wasn't prepared for the face-full of water that actually met her.

She ended up staring incredulously at Clint, the Idiot Alpha, who was smirking at her with smug satisfaction, before he very deliberately let his gaze trail down to her drenched shirt.

Harry clenched her jaw, raised one unimpressed eyebrow and jumped the guy with an elbow to his face.

It was a very one-sided fight, and Harry came out of it not even a minute later feeling grimly satisfied.

"Jesus, Harry!" Robert said once he had crossed the room, completely ignoring Clint groaning on on the floor. "I am so sorry, give me a minute and I'll find you a shirt to change into."

Before Harry could say a word of protest, Robert had whirled away, calling for 'Mary!' and Harry supposed that that answered that particular question when the female Beta employee looked up from what she was doing.

He was back a few seconds later, holding a folded t-shirt in one hand and began to herd her towards one of the changing rooms before she could so much as blink.

Harry stared mutely when the door closed in her face and then reluctantly glanced down on the cursed t-shirt.

It wasn't like she could just dry her own, long-sleeved shirt with a quick spell now, because then Robert and everyone else would wonder how she'd done it.

The only alternative was to put on the damn t-shirt.

The short sleeved t-shirt.

Damn it all to Hell.

With a resigned sigh, Harry pulled off her wet shirt, grimacing unhappily when the water-logged cloth dragged against her face.

At least she could dry her sports bra without anyone being the wiser.

When she couldn't possibly put things off any longer, Harry pulled on the t-shirt with near-overwhelming reluctance.

There was a mirror in the changing room -of course- and Harry eyed her reflection with grim resignation. There was no way anyone would miss the scars on her arms.

The scattering of burn scars particularly were very eye-catching.

Harry still had no idea how she hadn't noticed getting them, but she supposed trying to escape from Death Eaters and angry goblins with her life intact was enough to make anyone miss being burned with dragon fire?

Right.

The burns hadn't even had the decency to cover up her older scars! The cut from Wormtail and the large circular scar from the Basilisk tooth were still clearly visible, if not as angry red at the fresher ones. Nagini's bite mark curled around her left forearm, too.

With one last sigh, Harry folded up her wet shirt and exited the changing room.

Robert and Hunt were both waiting for her back on the floor mat Harry had claimed before Alpha obnoxiousness had made itself known.

Harry walked up to them with her head held high, skilfully ignoring the long looks she was attracting. She'd been through worse; this was nothing but an annoyance.

"I do apologize, Harry. This session will be on the house and I'll have a nice little chat with Clint about how to behave in the gym." Hunt told her with a serious expression, his gaze tracing down her arms once and then returning to meet her eyes.

Harry shrugged. "Alpha obnoxiousness." She said, smiling with wry amusement, because Hunt was an Alpha too, but the man merely sighed heavily through the nose.

"I will do my best to ensure that this will be the last altercation of this sort you will encounter in my gym." Hunt said, a frown pulling on his mouth.

"It's appreciated." Harry returned, and if her expectations were low, she blamed her previous experiences. At least Robert hadn't gawked at her arms for more than a handful of seconds before he snapped himself out of it.

He did look like he understood Harry a bit better now.

.

The last drop came two weeks later, when Harry had once again showed up for a day-time session and found Clint to be present once more.

Determined to ignore the idiot, Harry went about her warm-up, greeted Robert and they even got to finish their training session before anything happened this time.

It probably helped that Hunt spent most of his time scowling warningly at Clint.

Harry had just finished cooling down when Clint approached her with an apologetic look on his face that Harry didn't buy for a second. She'd seen first years with more convincing expressions on their faces even when it was obvious that they were lying through their teeth.

"Hey, Harry." He greeted with a sheepish grin that made Harry frown. "I just wanted to apologize for my behaviour the last few times we've run into each other." He said.

It might have been more convincing if he hadn't simultaneously slammed the full force of his pheromones into her face.

Harry slowly bared her teeth, her patience truly reaching the end of her rope. Because this was such an underhanded move it made her sneer with disgust.

"Really? This is your next attempt?" She asked derisively, and for the first time in her life, let go of all restraints on her own scent. The general smell of Alpha in the room was drowned out by the sheer strength of the Omega pheromones Harry was releasing.

She was vaguely aware of the remaining Alphas currently in the room stiffening and or taking an automatic step away from her.

"Shoving your scent in someone's face, trying to make them cower in front of your awe-inspiring Alpha-ness?" Harry sneered, stalking towards a decidedly wide-eyed Clint, jabbing her index finger sharply into his chest to underline her words. "Let me tell you a little secret, you utter prat! An Alpha that tries to use their scent to make an Omega cower, is not strong. He's not even average; he's weak. Trying to force a female under your sway with fear!" Harry growled. "Let me show you just what it feels like." And she focused the full intensity of her own scent on the Alpha before her until it looked like he was going to wet himself.

Harry felt that her point had been made, and abruptly clamped down on her own pheromones again.

Every single Alpha in the room staggered slightly at the sudden absence of her scent, universally looking a little like someone had slapped them in the face.

Harry ran a cool eye over them before turning to Robert, who looked solemn and a little wide-eyed, even though he hadn't caught or even understood everything that had just happened.

"Thank you for all the lessons, and for treating me like a human being." She told him with a small, tight but heart-felt smile. "I've enjoyed it, but I don't think I will be coming back here anytime soon."

"Right. Sorry it didn't work out." Robert replied faintly, eyeing Hunt's gob-smacked expression with a hint of incredulous awe.

Harry snorted with genuine amusement, clapped the man on the shoulder and then picked up her jacket and headed for her shoes by the door.

It took no time at all to step into them and walk outside.

-x-x-x-

"So apparently my scent intimidates the average Alpha now." Harry said casually the next time she met up with Ginny and Luna for lunch. It was as good a way to start a conversation as any.

Ginny froze with her fork halfway between her plate and her mouth, while Luna gave a slow blink.

"How did you learn that?" Luna asked curiously, looking very interested to hear the answer.

The Three Broomsticks was fairly busy so there was little chance of them being over-heard. Some mistakes, you only did once, and Harry learned her lesson with the whole D.A. business at the Hog's Head.

Now that the two younger Omegas had returned to Hogwarts -a month back- to finish their last year, the Three Broomsticks was also the most convenient meeting place on days like this.

Harry told them about her pretty memorable goodbye to her training partner.

By the end of it, Ginny was in stitches while still managing to look low-key pissed off.

It was pretty impressive, actually.

Luna gave a slight hum, looking like she was proud of Harry, but also worried for her.

"I am a little concerned that things like this seem to happen to you so often, Harry." Luna said in a floaty voice that would probably sound clueless to anyone else. Harry and Ginny knew her too well for that, though.

"But good for you for showing that Alpha what was what." Ginny added with a firm nod, coming down from her bout of hilarity. She groaned a second later, making both Harry and Luna look at her questioningly. "Merlin, I wish Hermione was here for this, because she's been nagging about you releasing all your scent for years and she missed it!"

Harry snorted.

"I'll tell her when they come back home." She said with a shrug. "Do either of you know why Kingsley want to talk to me?" She moved on to the next topic she wanted to cover.

"Perhaps." Luna smiled. "Daddy heard about some sort of Ministry function coming up." She said sweetly, fairly batting her eyelashes at Harry, who instantly paled.

"Oh, no."

"Oh, yes!" Ginny perked up, pushing her cleared plate to the side so that she could lean across the table to grab Harry's hand, as if to prevent her from bolting. "This is going to be fantastic!" She exclaimed with a slightly manic grin on her pretty face.

Harry really, really didn't believe her.

.

She had been right.

Shopping for 'appropriate' dresses with Ginny was mildly terrifying, and Harry felt a bit like she had somehow survived a hurricane. The fact that the red-head had recruited Andromeda for the day hardly made anything better. Harry was coming to love the woman, but she could be terrifying.

Luna had drifted along for the ride, but the blonde had done it with style.

She did end up with a fair few beautiful dresses, though, that she could wear and still not put the majority of her scars on display.

Harry would love Ginny and Andy until the day she died just for that, and might even agree to another shopping trip. Eventually.

"You look dazzling, Harry." Kingsley greeted her with a charming grin, pulling her into a brief hug.

Harry smiled back, but it wasn't as genuine and warm as it would have been in any other setting. She still let the Minister tuck her hand into the crook of his arm and parade her around the room while Harry broadcast her scent a little stronger than usual.

She spent a very long night smiling stiffly at all sorts of people, making polite small talk and trying to make a good impression while suffering too many speculative, probing looks to count.

"Really sorry about this, Harry." Kingsley muttered to her out of the corner of his mouth during a brief lull in the evening.

Harry suppressed a snort. "For all the condescending congratulations for being alive, being an Omega, the not-so-subtle inquiries about my love-life or the blatant ogling?" Harry shot back in a bland voice, a slight grimace on her face despite her best efforts.

This... was not her favourite thing in the world. Hands down worse than the Triwizard Yule Ball.

Kingsley sighed. "All of it?" He shot her an apologetic, commiserating look. "I never knew being an Omega could be this bad."

"Welcome to my world." Harry muttered bitterly, before hastily pasting a polite smile on her face when she spotted another couple heading towards her and the Minister.

"I promise I'll do everything I can to help you and Hermione with those Equality Laws." Kingsley told her quietly and then greeted the French Minister of Magic with a friendly smile.

"And zis is ze woman we 'ave to thank for ze Dark Lord's defeat, oui?" The French Minister said once he and Kingsley had spent a short while catching up.

"A pleasure meeting you, Minister." Harry inclined her head the slightest degree, shaking the Beta's hand when he offered it. She endured the next few curious questions from the married couple with an impressive amount of patience.

The only truly interesting thing all evening were the few Alphas present who didn't seem to know how to treat her.

Their first reaction was blatantly obviously a dismissive 'Omega' but then their brains kicked in and added 'Defeater of Voldemort; incredibly powerful witch. Do Not Piss Off!' and it was fairly entertaining watching them flounder through their brief interactions.

The very Alpha Minister of the Italian Ministry couldn't seem to decide between respectful awe and looking down his nose at her even as he leered at her curves.

The smile she gave him at their parting had been sharp and mildly threatening.

Kingsley hadn't even berated her for her behaviour. In fact, the former Auror had been muttering darkly about the man right up until they greeted the next foreign emissary.

At the end of the night, Harry's cheeks were aching from all the fake-smiling, along with her feet. She had been forced to dance with a total of ten men from different countries and social standing.

She was honestly fed up with the whole thing and was seriously contemplating leaving the country the next time she heard so much as a whisper about having to go on another one.

"I need to find a new gym." Harry muttered to herself, causing Kingsley to eye her curiously. "I feel the need to hit something very hard." She explained blithely.

.

Ron and Hermione came home in the middle of October, a few days after Harry's 'date' with Minister Shacklebolt, with the happy news that the Grangers would be returning to Great Britain as soon as they had wrapped up their life in Australia.

Harry couldn't be happier for her friend.

Before she could catch them up on everything that had happened while they were gone, however, Hermione took one look at Harry and went;

"Where are your glasses?"

Harry blinked, caught entirely off guard, because that was not what she had been expecting.

"Eh?" Harry frowned and brought a hand to her face, realising that, no, she wasn't wearing her glasses, actually.

She blinked again, and stared at Hermione and Ron.

"How long have you forgotten to put on your glasses?" Ron asked with an amused, lopsided grin.

"Um..." Harry tried to think back, but she couldn't for the life of her remember when she had stopped putting her glasses on her face first thing in the mornings. Blinking again, she marvelled at the sharp contrasts; she couldn't even remember the last time she'd seen this well without glasses.

"Something to bring up with Poppy the next time I go for a check up." Harry eventually said, bringing a hand to her chest, grimacing slightly at the still tender spot over her heart.

Hermione nodded with a concerned frown, before her expression melted into a happy smile. "'Poppy' is it now?" She said, but was content enough to put that conversation on hold for the time being.

Harry smiled back and was happy to fill them in on everything they had missed while they'd been abroad, which was incredibly amusing, if only for the colourful reactions.

Then Hermione went off to Hogwarts to get her NEWTs and Ron went to work with George in the joke shop while he contemplated if he really wanted to join the Aurors without Harry there beside him.

Harry, on her end, was reluctantly knighted for 'Services rendered Great Britain and all her people' together with her best friends. Which she supposed was the closest to the truth you could get without mentioning things like 'Lord Voldemort', 'Magic' or 'Wizarding War' to the Muggles. But at least the Queen seemed like a nice lady.

And she didn't have to suffer through it on her own. For once Ron and Hermione were just as much in the spotlight as she was!

Harry amused herself by briefly imagining her Aunt and Uncle's reactions to Harry being Knighted on national television. (Though she had made Kingsley request it to be a relatively small, quiet thing. She didn't need more publicity than necessary.)

She was now -apparently- Dame Harriet Potter, in addition to her Magical titles of Lady of Houses Potter and Black.

Well, there were worse fates to suffer; Harry knew.

(The reactions in the gym she had been visiting in London were hilarious, which she would learn years later when she bumped into Robert again and he regaled her with the tale.)

In other news, quite literally, the Daily Prophet had written a story where they speculated about if Harry's night with Kingsley acting like his equivalent to political bragging rights meant that the two of them were in a romantic relationship.

The next time she met up with Ginny, Hermione, Luna and Ron after the article was released, Ginny laughed her way through a recounting of professor McGonagall's reaction, and Luna had heard from a reliable source that Kingsley looked like he had been suffering from a constant migraine the days since he had read it.

(Xenophilius Lovegood was a whole lot more accepted in official circles after his efforts during the war, and while he was still just as weird, he did write a few interesting pieces about the political changes Kingsley was bringing about.)

The following Monday, Kingsley sent out an official announcement -which was printed in the Daily Prophet- that he was happily Bonded and married to his Mate, thank you very much, and if they didn't stop with the ridiculous theories, Kingsley would work in a few laws about Slander in his next proposal.

(He'd do that anyway, he confessed to Harry the next time they met, and Harry would have hugged him if not for their public setting. The rumours about her and him dating had just started to die down and Harry didn't want to bring them back to life. Never mind that he was older than her parents would have been!)

Weeks turned to months and Harry was still helping where she was needed, attending trials, spending time with her friends when they all found a few minutes to spare, working out and relaxing at the Burrow.

"Harriet, dear?" Molly called into the sitting room, where Harry had curled up with a book Ginny had recommended. She was trying to relax a little and not lose her mind to boredom at the same time.

"Yes?" Harry bookmarked her place and put the book down, ignoring just how eager she was for something else to do. No offense to the book.

"There's a Floo call for you; Kingsley wants a few words." Molly told her before bustling off again.

The closer Fleur's due date came, the more excited Molly got. She had been in a state of maternal whirlwind in the last few days and Harry, Hermione and all the Weasleys were silently wondering (and betting about, in a few cases) how long she could keep it up.

Harry got up off the sofa with a small sigh and a stretch.

She wanted a distraction, but that didn't mean she necessarily wanted to hear what Kingsley had to say; if it was about another one of those functions, she might end up socking him in the eye through the floo. Her arms were already scarred, what would a few more burns do?

"Kingsley." She greeted the man with a smile nonetheless. "You wished to speak with me?" She prompted, silently wondering what was important enough that it couldn't wait until the next time they'd scheduled to meet face to face.

"Harry." Kingsley's head nodded amongst the flames in the fireplace. "Something came up and I was wondering if you might mind stepping through to discuss it in person?"

"Not at all." Harry said, hoping it wasn't another obstacle in their plans to better the Magical Ministry; they'd seen too many of those already and it hadn't even been a year.

Some of her thoughts must have been visible on her face -or Kingsley merely knew her well enough by now to guess- because he shook his head.

"It's mostly a good thing."

"Mostly?" Harry questioned as she dug out a piece of parchment to write a quick note to Molly, who had disappeared up into the house. Most likely to drag out another box of stored baby clothes from the attic to go through and sort.

"Well, I'm not sure if you'll approve of my plans or not." Kingsley replied with a surprisingly boyish grin.

Harry eyed him with wry amusement. Kingsley's sense of humour was mostly nice, but he tended to be a bit too amused with other people's misfortunes, from time to time. (As long as those misfortunes fell on the safe but tedious side, and not the life-threatening and or damaging one.)

"See you in a tiffy, Minister." Was Harry's reply. Kingsley nodded and withdrew his head out of the fire and Harry followed him through shortly.

Dusting herself off on the rug in front of the Minister's personal fireplace, Harry gave Kingsley an expectant look.

The man didn't waste any time in launching into an explanation. Apparently, the Italians were interested in cooperating with them about some of the laws Kingsley wanted to get passed with the ICW, as well as the two Death Eaters that had fled to the country when they had managed to slip out of England before the Ministry had been able to get back in full control.

The Italian magicals were a bit territorial, and had so far stalled any and all of Kingsley's requests to hunt the two men down.

"I want you to go as our liaison, Harry." The man finished with a grin.

Harry gave Kingsley a long, narrow-eyed look. "...The Italian Minister of Magic was the most sexist person present at the function the other month." She pointed out slowly.

"Yes." Kingsley nodded, looking pleased with himself. "I figured that Minister Ganza could do with an Omega in his immediate proximity that he can't ignore."

Harry snorted. "You just want to make him squirm, don't you?"

"I knew you'd see it my way." Kingsley looked far too happy about it all, but Harry couldn't really fault him. Ganza had been one of the most insufferable Alphas Harry had ever met and she'd gone to school with Draco Malfoy.

It might actually be worth working close to him just to see him try to curb his own automatic response to Omegas. Maybe.

Harry took a seat in the chair in front of Kingsley's desk. "Convince me." She dared him with a wicked grin.

"You wouldn't be chasing our DEs personally, but you'd get to inspect the Italian Aurors, which I think you'd find to be entertaining." Kingsley looked like this here was his every dream come true; Setting Harry -Omega extraordinaire- on a pack of Alphas with over-blown egos and enough bias to supply an entire country on their own. "It would be an excellent opportunity for some vacation time, too, Harry." Kingsley continued, looking more serious now. "You haven't taken any time for yourself since the Battle. I have watched you run yourself ragged." He eyed her contemplatively a moment. "All your friends have taken time off to... recuperate and find a way back to themselves, in a way. You haven't."

Harry sighed and closed her eyes.

Kingsley... had a point.

"It's not like I could just take a step back and disappear out of the spot-light for a few weeks." She said, a wry smile twisting her lips into a semblance of a smile.

Kingsley inclined his head with a sympathetic look.

"But you have time and opportunity now." He pointed out. "I'm giving you the perfect out."

Harry snorted. "You just want to torment a man you know you're gonna have to work closely with for years from now on." She grinned tiredly. "But a vacation sounds... nice."

"Italy has a great deal of both Magical and Muggle tourist attractions and the food is amazing." The Minister said with a smile.

"I'm sorry, are you the Minister of Magic or a travel agent trying to make me your client?" Harry snorted with amusement and Kingsley laughed.

"Can't I be both?"

Harry just shook her head. "So when is this thing?"

"In a few weeks. Enough time to make a few preparations on both ends." Kingsley said while he began to dig through his overflowing desk for a specific set of files. "The Italians are horrible at English, so I wanted to ask if you'd be willing to learn Italian before you go."

"Doesn't that take a lot of time?" Harry asked, blinking, surprised.

"With the proper magical aids, it doesn't."

So Harry shrugged, inclined her head and bunkered down with Kingsley to go through everything she'd need to know for the trip.

Harry absently wondered when the Minister had decided to use Harry as his international diplomat.

.

In between all the things she had to do to prepare for her 'diplomatic mission' Harry took the time to go up to Hogwarts for a meeting with Madam Pomfrey.

"Harry, dear!" The matron greeted her with a warm smile.

"Hello, Poppy." Harry replied, following the woman into her office when she mentioned her that way. "How have you been?"

"A new term is always busy, but this one... a bit more than usual." Pomfrey said with a faint, sad smile.

Harry nodded. She didn't have trouble at all to imagine all the traumatised children there must be after the previous year. The Carrows hadn't exactly been fit for a school, never mind being basically in charge of it.

Pomfrey spent a few minutes giving Harry her check up, inspected her chest and the still fresh-looking scar marring it now, before they settled down for tea.

"I think there were a few questions you wanted to ask me?" The woman prompted when Harry spent a little too long lost in thought.

"I have more than one question, actually." She frowned. "You-" she paused a little, because she didn't want to bring this up. At all. "You know about the- the potion," She had to pause for a grimace, "Bellatrix forced into me."

Poppy gave a short nod, fury burning in her eyes at the reminder. The traces of that vile potion had been in her system for a long time.

"I haven't had a heat since then." Harry finally said in a quiet voice.

Pomfrey was silent at first, but then she took a deep breath, before releasing it explosively.

"A potion like that-" her voice was trembling with suppressed emotion, "puts an enormous amount of stress on your body. It forces you into heat, and there is nothing natural or normal about it, my dear." She took another deep breath. "The pain you were in is a reaction to that, but that's not the full extent of the effects."

"You mean there's more." Harry closed her eyes tiredly. She couldn't honestly say she was surprised.

Pomfrey nodded. "It threw your body out of balance, in a way. That kind of potions doesn't just affect your body, though; it targets your magic as well. I wouldn't be surprised if your heat cycle will be very strange for a good long while." She was silent a moment, to let Harry digest that. "I mentioned it your fourth year, but mucking about with an Omega's heat isn't healthy. It has long-reaching consequences."

"Of course." Harry muttered, rubbing the fingers of one hand over her forehead. "It won't leave me infertile or anything at least, will it?" She asked with a weak laugh.

"No." Pomfrey said quietly. "Forcing a heat isn't as dangerous as suppressing or halting one."

Harry rubbed at her face and was reminded of her second question. "I don't think I need glasses any more." She changed the subject abruptly.

"Oh?"

"I didn't even notice, but then Ron and Hermione came home and I suppose it was a sudden change for them." She chuckled a little. "I don't know what's going on."

And wasn't that a near-constant state for her lately? Her life in general, really.

"Tell me, Harry." Pomfrey began. "Have you been suffering from headaches lately? In the time between the Battle and now?"

Harry frowned as she thought back. "I suppose. Maybe? There was so much going on after the battle, so much to do, and it's not like I wasn't in general pain all the time back then either." She muttered awkwardly, trying to ignore Pomfrey's irritated scowl. She hadn't gone to see the Healer as quickly as she maybe ought to have, and the woman still hadn't forgotten it.

"Sit still a moment." Pomfrey said and got up. The moment she was standing in front of Harry, she waved her wand over her face for an in depth, target specific diagnostic spell. "It appears your eye-sight has improved significantly since the last time I checked." Pomfrey frowned thoughtfully.

"That's strange." Harry murmured, trying to think.

"Did anything happen lately that might have affected you like this?"

Harry's frown deepened. Not lately, no... But at the Battle...

She had died. Or, more accurately, technically, the Horcrux in her head had been 'killed'. Could a Horcrux give you bad eye-sight?

"I can't think of anything." Harry lied when she blinked back to the present.

Pomfrey didn't look like she believed her, but she didn't say anything to call her on her lie.

"I have another jar of cream for your chest. I want you to apply it every evening before bed, but this will be the last dose I give you." She said, giving Harry a stern look, but it softened soon enough. "There's only so much I can do for a curse wound like this."

"Thank you, Poppy." Harry smiled and took the jar with care when the woman handed it to her.

.

Hermione had kindly showed her how to charm her own bag to be much larger on the inside than the outside. So at the beginning of January, Harry arrived in the Italian Ministry via portkey with just one small but sturdy backpack slung over one shoulder and dressed in comfortable, sensible clothes.

The welcome committee consisted of Minister Ganza, what must have been his aid or secretary, along with a few Alphas that Harry suspected to be the Heads of various departments. There was just a single Beta amongst them, and he was male.

"Boungiorno." Harry greeted with a polite, professional smile, shaking Ganza's hand when he held it out to her. "Quite the welcome, Minister." She said in near-perfect Italian, eyeing the staring Alphas with wry amusement.

"We're all eager to work together with such an accomplished witch." Ganza replied, and Harry almost wanted to give him extra points for his diplomatic phrasing.

"I'm sure you are." Harry said with a slight smirk.

Ganza then introduced her to his subordinates in rapid Italian and Harry tried her best to memorize their names and faces. She'd bet that that would come in handy during her stay, however long that ended up being.

Kingsley had very pointedly not given her a date to be back on British soil.

"Lady Potter." One lumbering Alpha said, giving her slight hand a firm shake. "Dario Accardi, Head Auror." He introduced himself with a slight, respectful nod. He looked much like the stereotypical Italian, tall with olive skin, dark hair -greying at the temples- and work-rough hands. Harry absently took in the scars littering his rather fuzzy forearms.

"Nice to meet you, signore Accardi." Harry gave the man a slight smile. "It'll be interesting to be working with you. See how another country operates."

"We shall see, Lady Potter." Was the man's neutral reply.

Harry wasn't offended. She knew she wasn't very impressive-looking at first glance, or even second and third. Right now, the most these people knew about her was that she had -supposedly- killed the most dangerous Dark Lord Europe had seen in centuries, and that she was an Omega.

She could imagine that that would clash something fierce in their minds with the general prejudice against Omegas, which there was plenty of.

"Allow me to show you around and then I'll have one of my men take you to your residence for your stay." Ganza said with a charming grin, holding out his hand towards the closest door. If nothing else, the man was at least charismatic enough for his position, she supposed.

Harry kept her pleasant smile fixed on her face throughout the tour.

The Italian Ministry turned out to be largely like the British one, if only with a lot more people who were inclined to shout conversations at each other from opposite ends of the room instead of using PMs. With accompanying wild hand-gestures, of course.

They finished off by walking through the Auror department, and Accardi gruffly told her where to find what, where his office was and where they would spend the most time planning the hunt for the errant Death Eaters.

Harry nodded along with genuine interest now, listening to the man with a thoughtful tilt of her head.

It was surprisingly easy to ignore all the attention she was under, the blatant scrutiny. After the last few years Harry had had, this was nothing.

As long as no one grabbed her unexpectedly, there would be no incidents that might put Kingsley in a tricky situation.

"Well then, Lady Potter." Accardi said, mentioning one of his Aurors to step forward. "Cattaneo will escort you back and forth between the Ministry and your Hotel each day."

"Pleasure to meet you." Harry greeted the man, taking in his appearance and the way he held himself. "New on the job?" She asked curiously, and then wondered if that was really something she should have said out loud.

"Ah, yes, signo- Lady Potter." Cattaneo said, stumbling slightly over how to address her properly.

"Cattaneo is one of my most promising recruits." Accardi said evenly, looking like his view of Harry was adjusting ever so slightly. "Acting as your guide out of the Ministry is perfectly within his capabilities."

"I wasn't questioning his competence, signore." Harry assured him with slight amusement. "I'm sure signore Cattaneo will be perfectly adequate at his job."

He couldn't be much older than Harry, actually, perhaps twenty-one at most. Taking a discreet whiff revealed that he was a Beta, which she suspected had been arranged intentionally with her... Omega-ness in mind.

Couldn't have an un-Mated Omega spending time alone with an unattached Alpha on a regular basis, could you?

The outrage, Harry mused wryly. She very nearly rolled her eyes, but caught herself.

"I shall see you tomorrow then, Lady Potter." Accardi concluded, waving his hand at Cattaneo again, telling him to escort Harry outside.

,

"This way, Lady Potter." Cattaneo said as he led her to a Muggle car, a nervous undercurrent to his voice that made Harry want to sigh.

"Just Harry is fine, signore." She said once they had gotten seated, but at the wide eyes in the rear-view mirror, she amended. "Or just Potter, then."

"You may call me Ettore, then, La- Potter." He replied slowly as he navigated the streets of... what city were they in? A few quick questions later, they had established that they were in Florence, Firenze in Italian.

"Why not Rome?" Harry questioned out loud, thought she wasn't really expecting an answer.

"The Catholics aren't very fond of magic, see?" Ettore smiled slightly at her in the rear-view mirror, and Harry laughed.

"True!" She hadn't really thought of that. "Are you a Muggleborn?" She asked curiously, mentioning towards the car around them with a wave of her hand. Ettore's nod made a lot of sense. "So how old are you, Ettore?" She asked when the silence grew too heavy.

"Twenty, ma'am."

Harry felt her eyebrows rise at the form of address. "There's no need to call me 'ma'am'. Not when I'm younger than you." She pointed out, feeling fairly bemused at Ettore's visible shock at her words.

"How old are you then, Lady Potter?" He asked.

And they were apparently back to the 'Lady' business, now.

"I'm eighteen." She told him honestly, biting back a few choice words when the man turned around to stare at her, taking his eyes off the busy road they were currently driving down.

Well, at least magic ensured that they wouldn't actually crash into anything. Or anyone.

"You are the one who killed your Dark Lord, yes? You have survived two Killing Curses!" There was enough astonishment in his voice to make Harry uncomfortable. "I did not know you are just eighteen!" He added, and there was something like awe in his eyes.

Harry watched him with growing dread.

Oh, no. Not more hero-worship.

She gave an awkward shrug. "How old did you think I was?"

"Not younger than me!" Ettore exclaimed. "You must be very skilled with a wand." He added, looking excited now.

"Minister Ganza mentioned something about mock duels that are held every month?" She questioned, relaxing slightly now that the air between them wasn't so tense.

"Yes!" Ettore smiled. "They are very exciting, and the winner each month get free coupons for the cafeteria."

"Sounds nice." Harry murmured and leaned back to listen to Ettore's excited chatter.

.

The hotel Ettore drove her to was a fair bit fancier than anything Harry would choose for herself, but she supposed she couldn't complain about the hotel being too nice. Not when the Italians were trying to avoid an international incident in case Harry got offended.

When the door closed behind her and she got her first look at her suite, Harry let out a tired sigh and tried not to think about the opulence surrounding her, or Ettore's enthusiastic promise to pick her up first thing in the morning.

With a deep breath, Harry started to dig through her backpack to get out everything she'd need for the night.

The next few days were spent mostly briefing Accardi on the two Death Eaters that had fled into his country, getting used to the Italian Ministry.

Breaking a few hands.

Harry was walking down the corridor towards Accardi's office, reading through one of the files the man had given her on the case progress so far. She wasn't expecting someone to grab her bum in passing.

The reaction was purely reflexive.

Harry dropped the file -which clattered loudly to the floor- snatched up the hand that was still on her ass, whirled around and twisted it harshly until there was a loud, audible snap.

Harry glared at the swearing Alpha that had taken liberties and bared her teeth.

"Don't even think about it." She growled lowly, and then let go of his now-broken wrist with a sneer of contempt. Once she was sure the Alpha -still hissing and swearing viciously with pain- wouldn't try anything else, she crouched down to pick up her case file and then continued on her way, ignoring the ringing silence around her.

The message didn't sink in, apparently, because Harry ended up breaking two more wrists before the week was up.

The next time Harry walked into Accardi's office, the man was wearing a rather serious expression.

"Did something happen?" Harry asked, feeling concerned. The men they were chasing were dangerous and she could see plenty of scenarios where everything went sideways.

Accardi shook his head and mentioned at the chair in front of his desk. Harry tilted her head slightly in thought, but gladly took a seat. Accardi was a good man, and his gruff demeanour hid a sharp, fair mind that he didn't seem to have any compounds about down-playing.

Harry liked him. Reminded her a bit about Ron, actually.

"Potter, would you mind telling me why you keep breaking my Aurors' wrists?" He began in a deep, slow voice that conveyed how seriously he viewed this subject perfectly.

Harry scowled. "Well, if they stopped trying to grab my ass, I wouldn't be touching them."

Accardi gave a very slow blink. "I was not told the full story, it seems." Was his only reaction and that was that. "We have tracked down one of our targets to-"

The rest of the afternoon was spent discussing strategies for arresting one of the men they were after with as little collateral damage as possible.

When Harry was finally leaving, Accardi's voice stopped her by the door.

"Oh, and Potter." Harry turned to look at him. "The monthly Auror tournament will begin tomorrow. I will write up your name in the registry, so prepare yourself accordingly."

Harry nodded and walked out the door with an eager grin.

.

She didn't win the tournament, but she was one of the finalists.

Much to the gathered spectators' general shock and surprise.

Ettore later informed her -on the way back to her hotel- that the small handful of Omegas working in the Ministry had started an unofficial fan-club dedicated to Harry.

"So that's why some of the secretaries have been looking at me weirdly." Harry muttered, biting back a groan.

"You were amazing." Ettore continued, sounding a bit like Ron when her friend was discussing Quidditch in general and the Chudley Cannons specifically.

"It was lots of fun." Harry smiled. It had reminded her of the D.A and the training they had been doing together. And Harry was good at Defence, there was no denying it. But that didn't mean that she could take down people with decades' worth of experience just like that. She knew full well that the only reason she had gotten as far in the tournament as she had was because the majority of her opponents had been underestimating her. Severely.

"You have a few days off now that the department is moving in to apprehend the targets." Ettore said once he pulled up in front of her hotel. "Have any plans?"

"I was thinking I'd just do some sightseeing." Harry said. "I haven't really had any time to look around yet and Firenze has a lot worth seeing."

Ettore launched into a passionate lecture about all the best spots in his city, making it obvious just where he had grown up.

Harry smiled as she listened and promised the wizard that she would definitely take the time to check out a few of his suggestions.

"Have a good weekend, Harry!" He called after her when she exited the car and walked towards the hotel doors.

Harry gave him a wave over her shoulder and a fond smile.

-x-x-x-