Hey there people! =) Well this is the second « Chapter » I'm posting tonight lol and it's the third part of the MJ/Henry story. Things are finally starting to get interesting lol and I'd love to say more but it is now 2h3à in the morning and all I want to do is go to bed. And maybe wake up to a few lovely reviews hint hint ;)

You know the drill Read & Review! =)

Luv ya

Lili

X x x x x x x x


The owl let out an impatient screech and ruffled its feathers haughtily from it's golden perch, eying its master balefully. The man glanced up, his face smoothly composed and strikingly handsome, with one lock of hair falling from it's perfect order into his eyes. The eyes themselves held a gleam that could have been amusement, but the sleek head had bent once more over his desk before one could be sure. The owl plimmed itself up in indignation. It shot the occupant of the desk a malevolent glare and clicked its beak significantly but the man remained maddeningly oblivious, pausing to reread the letter he was composing, with a pensive abstraction that seemed too perfect to be anything but deliberate.

"…The usage of a muggle weapon can surely only have been deliberate, but I must admit old friend, I am at a loss to decipher the reasoning behind it. The likelihood of such an injury being fatal is almost nonexistent, but if the shooting was only a threat, what then is it warning against?

It is so long since I last had the pleasure of your company, and letters can be compromising, but I imagine that the ever-growing strength of support for the Pure-blood cause is in no small way down to you and yours. It seems therefore not unreasonable to suppose that if anyone can assist me in uncovering the reason for this attack, you yourself can discover the rogue extremists responsible.

I turn to you once again it seems, in the hope that you may be able to shed some light on who desires Miss Moniqua Monroe silenced and how far they will go to assure it."

The beautiful eagle-feather quill paused, nib touching the expensive sheet of parchment, in a moment of rare indecision. Finally however he continued, a look of disquiet still lingering in his disconcertingly acute eyes.

"You know I would not compromise you for the world and it occurs to me that you may feel some not unreasonable confusion as to my particular interest in this matter. I cannot however truly explain, even to my own satisfaction. I can only say that attempted murder of an innocent is a step too far on the road towards extremism.

But I can not write more. For one thing my ink has run out, as is always the way when one finally has a missive to write of urgent importance, and for another, Moriarty is ready to take off empty-handed if I tarry a minute longer. As always, the mere mention of your name is enough to put him in a vile humour.

Don't take it personally; the one person whose company he deigns to enjoy is the single human being on this earth that I myself have a frequently recurring desire to murder.

Farewell and I await your answer, yes old friend, almost impatiently. Merlin help us.

Signed

Henry Charlus Potter

The self-proclaimed Henry Charlus Potter placed his quill on the desk and reread the missive, a frown barely creasing his smooth brow. Then a goaded hoot made his gaze flicker upwards to blandly survey the superb black eagle-owl who was now shuffling from left to right on his perch, almost beside himself in fury. Moriarty looked ripe for murder and with an amused gleam in his eye, Henry finally rolled up the parchment and swiftly tied it around the mutinous bird's leg.

Henry leaned back in his chair with the ghost of a smile on his lips, as Moriarty spread his enormous wings and flapped pointedly a few times to stretch the cramped muscles. Henry's expression was faintly apologetic, but the glint of humour lurking in those swirling pools of gold and brown and green, made the owl let out a deafening screech before launching itself into the air and out the window without so much as a glance back.

Henry shook his head slightly and sighed, feeling the familiar wave of turmoil rise inside him and push aside the lingering warmth of affection. How long had it been? Fourteen years? It didn't seem possible, it shouldn't be possible. The striking face closed up until it could have been carved in stone and the hand resting lightly on the desk curled with dangerous slowness into a fist.

A knock on the door brought Henry out of unpalatable memories and into the present with a shake of his head. There was no time to even open his mouth before Sylvester marched into the tiny space like a ginger whirlwind, tawny eyes flashing in ferocious purpose.

"Potter; Crouch's office now!" he barked and exited without another word.

Henry rose to his feet and followed his superior out the door in carefully concealed confusion, moving briskly to catch up with Prewett's long, lean stride. As he drew shoulder to shoulder with the man's powerful bulk, Henry settled back into his natural glide, eyeing the roughly-cut, lined and tanned face in faint curiosity. But Prewett ignored the young auror completely, powering across the Department Floor as though oblivious the stares from the numerous secretaries and lower members, who paused and gaped from their desks as the two men strode by.

Basilus Crouch's office was at the very end of the floor, slightly separated from the rest of the department as though to emphasise the fact that, in reality he had very little to do with the every-day running. A better Head of Department could have saved a lot of people a lot of extra work, but Basilius's position had more to do with the fact that his brother was the Minister's childhood friend and the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement itself, and less to do with his actual capability as a leader. Greedy, lazy and notoriously lecherous, the man cut an unimpressive figure as the two men stepped unceremoniously into his office, never more so when compared with Sylvester's experience and power.

Crouch nodded distractedly to Sylvester but his shrewd grey eyes were fixed on Henry's face.

"Ah Potter, there you are. You will be pleased to know that we have come up with a plan of action in regards to the attack on Miss Moniqua Monroe last week, an attack I believe you foiled, am I right.»

Henry nodded, his fathomless gaze never leaving the other man features.

"Excellent! Jolly good job! Mister Nimbus was most satisfied with your prompt and impeachable conduct."

Jasper stepped out of the shadows from around the other side of the desk with an apologetic shrug, wincing at the other man's pompous heartiness. Crouch clapped his hands but the action resembled more the unconscious action of a greedy businessman rather than an expression of admiration. Henry fought the urge to roll his eyes, feeling Sylvester's unspoken warning without even touching his mind.

"Yes, yes! Excellent." he repeated, eyeing Jasper Nimbus with undisguised glee. Then he seemed to recollect himself, clearing his throat in a more professional manner.

"To the point, I myself and Mister Nimbus have come to an agreement about what is best to be done, which I am sure will meet with your approval. Mister Nimbus has most…respectfully requested for a permanent protection to be put in place to guard the…lovely…young…damsel in distress."

All three men's' faces darkened as an all-too-obvious look of appreciation came into Crouch's eye. His tongue darted out to lap at his pale lips and Henry repressed the overwhelming urge to curl his own lip in disgust. Crouch was plainly lost in some repulsive fantasy of his own making and judging by the dazed look on the lecher's face, it was one vile enough to turn Moniqua's stomach.

Not to mention his.

Henry let out a carefully controlled breath, observing with some satisfaction that he was at least not the only one. Sylvester, for all his warnings of restraint and self-control, looked ready to strangle the disgusting leech on the spot for thinking about his little girl that way. Jasper too had a grim look in his eye and his knuckles clenching over the edge of the desk were almost white. Crouch was oblivious, and awoke from his day-dream in his own good time, clearing his throat with a self-satisfied grin before turning back to his guests and continuing where he'd left off.

"The usual wards, alarm systems, etc have already been set in place but Mister Nimbus has requested on top of these usual measures the added security of a body-guard chosen from among our top aurors, to keep a permanent watch on Miss…Moniqua."

He lilted appreciatively over the exotic syllables and Henry was so busy grinding his teeth that he almost missed the direction which this was going in. When he did, his face hardened into harsh lines.

"I was under the impression that only visiting dignitaries, statesmen or prisoners are entitled to a permanent auror protection."

The words were soft and impassive; his face gave nothing away. Crouch seemed unsure whether to reprimand the youth for speaking out of turn without a superior's expressed permission but the look in Henry's eye made him think it best to let it slide. He shuffled from side to side and threw a rather sheepishly look towards Nimbus who was now, also looking decidedly uncomfortable. Henry's lips compressed.

"Yes, well," Crouch tried for a jovial tone, " In these special circumstances, and due to our deepest gratitude towards Mister Nimbus for his generosity in certain matters, I, that is the Ministry, has seen fit to grant this, I admit, unusual request until such time as the culprit for this attack is taken into custody."

Henry's features didn't soften. Rather the rings of gold around his pupils darkened to an uncompromising black.

"In that case sir, allow me to set to work immediately in tracking down whoever responsible, I am confident that in under two weeks I may have…"

But Crouch cut him off with wave and a now thoroughly put-out scowl.

"Nonsense," he replied testily, "You will do nothing except accomplish the mission assigned to you by your superiors."

Henry's entire body tensed, knowing what was coming and furious that he was powerless to stop it. Sure enough, Crouch's weak winy, petulant tones pronounced the words he'd been dreading.

"You will serve as body-guard to the civilian Moniqua Monroe until such time as it is judged that there is no longer need for concern for her safety and well-being."

Sylvester's face was a mask. Henry set his jaw and forced out

"Sir, I really do feel…"

Crouch exploded.

"You will obey orders Potter! You will not question your superior's decisions! You will hold your tongue and you will do as you are TOLD!"

The scrawny man was breathing heavily through his flared nostrils, his face tinged with spots of colour over his flabby cheeks. It took all of Henry's legendary self-control to swallow the blistering retort hovering on his lips, but Sylvester's tigerish gaze caught his and, imperceptively, the older man shook his grizzled head. With a final flash of those hazel eyes, Henry took a deep breath and forced chin to tilt in bitterly unwilling compliance.

"Yes,…sir." the words were almost ground out but Crouch, thankfully, didn't seem to notice. Instead he sniffed waspishly and waved his hand towards the door.

"Now, I have much to do. Prewett, I leave it with you to explain to Mister Potter what exactly his duties for this mission will be. Mister Nimbus, in case you have anything to add, I would advise you to attend this meeting. Potter, you will report to me before you leave. That is all."

It was an obvious snub. With a distinct sniff, he turned on his heel and flounced over to his desk, with now further thought for his guests. Crouch slumped into his chair, picked up a cigar and nodded once final time in the vague direction of the door.

"And send Michelle in on your way out."

Jasper looked as though he couldn't believe his eyes. Sylvester and Henry, long accustomed to their superior's complete lack of shame or morality of any kind, both simply bowed their heads one final time and strode out the door.


"Henry listen to me. Please!"

The tall rigid figure standing on the other side of Sylvester's desk made no movement, and Jasper wiped his brow wearily with his hand. He took a deep breath, trying to find the words to placate his young friend and business partner before this discordance caused permanent damage to their relationship.

"I need her protected, Henry. Financially Moniqua Monroe is worth millions to me and on a side-note, therefore to you too. But even if she wasn't…" he broke of with an exasperated sigh, and glanced for help towards Prewett. It did not gain him much. The Deputy Head of Department was sitting back in his chair, legs crossed, his amber gaze boring a hole in his own desk as he listened to the proceedings. Jasper glared at his childhood friend and spread his hands in appeal.

"I will admit to being biased in where MJ is concerned, as I would have thought, Sylvester would too." another icy look shot from under thin blond brows. "We are both fond of the girl and more importantly, we are both all too aware of her tendency towards…" he hesitated.

"Towards pig-headed, imprudent and irrational behaviour." Henry finished for him in a voice like steel. Jasper winced.

"Towards a certain level of…recklessness." he compromised helplessly. Henry rolled his eyes. Jasper pressed forward none the less.

"In any event, this assignment would not exceed two years. I trust that this will remain within these walls but, MJ has expressed a desire to leave the world of Quidditch," Jasper sounded almost in pain, "as soon as her own contract with the Montrose Magpies finishes."

Nimbus smiled widely towards the young auror, as though hoping that the mention of the Team that had been nicknamed "Monroe's Magpies" after his old schoolmate would somehow soften his resolve. He should have known better. Henry looked blankly unimpressed. Then his brows snapped together in a glare that could have rivalled Sylvester's in ferocity.

"Two years…?" he repeated in a voice deadly soft.

"Two years!" Jasper nodded enthusiastically, believing that his friend was finally coming round. "Until the end of the World cup, which Moniqua has expressed her willingness to play one final time her role as Captain of the French National Team…"

Henry was no longer listening. Instead he spun round to stare down at Sylvester's unresponsive form with a look as dark as night.

"Two years." he said once more, even softer and if possible, even more menacing. Jasper broke off, puzzled, looking from one to the other. Neither enlightened him, but eventually Henry finally asked with deceptive gentleness.

"Is Monroe a pureblood by any chance?"

Jasper's expression was now one of complete bewilderment. Sylvester on the other hand showed a tiny flicker of emotion on his gnarled features. His bushy brows descended into a faintly uncomfortable scowl, shutting his eyes briefly before suddenly fixing them on Henry's face with a stubbornly defiant glare.

"She is."

Henry's entire body became as still as stone. His face was so blank, so emotionless in sent the familiar chills down even Jasper's accustomed spine and his eyes when they finally opened, were deadly.

"You…bastard!"

The two words, lilted so softly, trembled with such icy contempt that Jasper flinched away and even Sylvester couldn't help but swallow. Nimbus opened his hands again, this time in confused, impatient appeal.

"What?" he demanded with a hint of his formidable temper, "For Merlin's sake would one of you please explain to me why Henry, you look ready to commit murder!"

Sylvester sighed wearily, but Henry was there before him, his words lashing like silk as he stared into nothing, his hands clenched into impressive fists.

"As Prewett has apparently neglected to inform you Jasper of the implications of this mission, it seems it falls to me. The only way for it to being publicly acceptable to be permanently seen in Monroe's presence without staining her reputation, is by informally announcing that we are courting."

"Is that such a problem?" Jasper frowned, still not comprehending. "You played the role of her date at the gala, with flawless results. I fail to see how…"

"What you are apparently unaware of, is the existence of an ancient, outdated wizarding law that states "If two purebloods of marriageable age have formally courted for a year and a day, they implicitly enter of their own free will into a formal contract of engagement that can only be broken by declaration of the groom that his bride to be is somehow unfit for matrimony.""

"That law is in the process of being revised and in all probability annulled." Sylvester interrupted quietly.

"But as yet it still stands!" Henry flashed back. Jasper looked simply stunned.

"Engaged?" he mumbled, flabbergasted. "But that's ridiculous." He looked round to Prewett, hoping for a denial, but to his shock the grizzled head merely nodded tiredly and Sylvester sat up straight.

"It was a law set in place to marry off Pureblood youngsters as fast and easily as possible. Arranged marriages have been traditional among our class for centuries. With our numbers so heavily falling, the Ministry felt itself obliged to step in and…facilitate the process."

Jasper rubbed the skin at his temples, as though trying to forcibly press the words into his stunned brain.

"But then surely all we have to do is go through with the plan and then you can break of the so-called engagement as soon as her contract finishes."

Henry let out a bitter half-laugh, never taking his eyes of Sylvester's rugged face.

"Once an official engagement is formed the only valid reason for it's being broken is the loss of honour of the bride. Meaning that to do so would mean my formally denouncing Monroe as a shameless, defiled whore, unfit for marriage to any self-respecting pureblood this side of the Channel. In other words, she would be ruined. Whatever else I may be, I am not such a cur."

Jasper was as pale as a sheet. He turned to Prewett with a look of horror, but the old warrior wouldn't meet his eye. The words sank numbly in, but Nimbus tried to pull himself together and asked rather weakly.

"And if we avoided them courting. What if we simply announced that Henry was serving as bodyguard to MJ? Not only would it be deemed normal for him to always be at her side but it would also serve as a deterrent to whichever group wishes her harm. They would have to murder one of the most prominent pureblood heirs to do so."

The idea seemed perfectly logical but both Henry and Sylvester were shaking their heads.

The Ministry can't be allowed to be seen using one of their best pureblood aurors simply to protect a civilian." Sylvester growled impatiently. "People would guess immediately that money was changing hands and, however true, the public would be up in arms at such blatant corruption in the government."

Jasper had the grace to look slightly sheepish.

"Ah…yes well, what to you propose we do then Sylvester?" impatient once more. "I would suggest the reassignment of the mission to a muggleborn auror instead, thereby negating the condition of this law, but MJ has sworn that if she has to have an auror tail her for two years…" he paused suddenly looking extremely embarrassed.

Henry waited, brows faintly narrowed in intense curiosity at what his business partner felt so uncomfortable declaring. Nimbus coughed and finally admitted with an embarrassed shrug

"She will have you and no one else."

Henry for once was completely and utterly stunned. His lips had parted to instinctively protest but no sound seemed to come. It was unthinkable, ridiculous that she could have made such a demand, but when he spun round towards Prewett, the expression on the man's rough features only confirmed the truth of the statement. Jasper took in the younger man's blank expression with a worried glance and hurriedly continued,

"I told me that she would do her level best to escape, lose or otherwise impede the chosen auror from dogging her every step and that you were the only person she has ever met that she could not triumph over in a duel."

Thick glowing brown locks fell forward over his brow and his shoulders as Henry nodded without even really being aware of it. There was some truth in that at least. Monroe had flattened every member of the Hogwarts Duelling association more times than he could count, winning the trophy all three years since her transfer. The entire school knew however, that had he bothered to compete, the silver shield would have been his with his wand arm tied behind his back. The one time he had, in an unprecedented fit of temper, accepted Monroe's challenge had been a defining moment of history. She had been disarmed in less than three minutes, but those three minutes were, according to Professor Dumbledore before his intervention, one of the greatest examples of wand-work he had ever seen.

There were a few members of the Department who were more than a match for even Monroe's skill, but an uncooperative mark was any aurors worst nightmare. The risks became doubled if the person one was trying to protect was putting all their energy into eluding their bodyguard. They took foolish risks, made selfish mistakes and almost always got hurt. It wasn't safe, nor was it fair. And of course it had to be said that if the girl had to be protected, there was a certain nagging part of him that defied anyone to do it better than himself.

But all this was irrelevant. However unexpected it was that Monroe had actually asked for him, it made no difference. She could have demanded someone else until she was blue in the face and it would have gotten her nowhere. Because at the end of the day, only the Ministry could decide which, if any, auror would be assigned as bodyguard to an intended mark. And the Ministry had no interest nor advantage to gain by assigning anyone but him.

He was beautifully and effectively trapped.

The realisation was almost accepted, however bitterly reluctant but an overwhelming, blazing anger still fumed beneath the surface, simmering quietly towards his Deputy Head of Department and by the look of Sylvester's face, he was well aware of the reason behind it. The black fire in the young auror's eye promised dire retribution but Prewett squared his massive shoulders and met him look for look.

"I had to inform Higher-Up, Potter. You knew that. Just like you knew they wouldn't let you go"

Jasper exhaled in frustration as, once more he had no clue what they were now talking about. He raised an eyebrow at the pair, waiting expectantly but Henry's jaw was locked so tight he couldn't speak.

"Let WHO go WHERE? For Merlin's sake!" Sylvester didn't even glance at him, his amber eyes scorching a hole in the youth's handsome face.

It was Sylvester who answered him, with obvious reluctance, grinding out each word as though it physically hurt him.

"In old Pureblood law, woman were never originally expected to actually hold a profession. They were thought to be physically weaker than the male, and it was therefore the duty of any husband to protect his wife. When our witches first began to work, dangerous jobs such as the Auror Department insisted on a clause that a woman could only join there ranks if her husband did as much, transferring any responsibility in case of her injury or death to him. It was done to protect the Ministry from being sued by bereaving husbands and satisfy the old traditions. Such laws are dying out, and rarely used but until they are fully removed from the constitution, they can still be enforced…when deemed necessary. ."

Henry unclenched his jaw to bite out softly

"She told you."

Sylvester nodded.

"MJ was the person you were waiting for to replace you. You would have walked out of the Ministry in less than two years, Potter. They can't let that happen. You're too exceptional. They need you too much to let you walk out that door."

Henry's voice was like ice.

"So they would entrap me into marriage with a woman sworn to join their ranks. How honourable."

Prewett closed his eyes and grit his teeth.

"Don't look at me like that, Potter. The Ministry has to work for the greater good."

Henry turned his blazing eyes towards the old tiger, two raging infernos set in a face smooth and expressionless as cream silk. Power seemed to radiate from him; frightening, abnormal waves of pure intensity rippling through the air around him until the very room seemed to shake. Jasper swallowed as a glass on the oak desk shattered into pieces.

Sylvester did not back down.

"I could quit today." Henry breathed, lingering over the syllables like a deadly caress, never breaking eye contact with his superior. Prewett nodded briskly.

"That you could. And the Ministry would refuse any protection to a mere…civilian, as you put it. Tyrannius don't do something for nothing, Potter. And what he wants right now…is you. Your power, skill not to mention galleons, tied to this government. So it's really your choice. You can walk away and let her die. Because if I know Malfoy, he'll find some way to let whoever's out there know that she's alone and unprotected. He doesn't like people saying no to him Potter. Even if it gains him nothing, you humiliate him, and he won't forget it."

Sylvester slumped back into the antique mahogany arm-chair, his expression suddenly terribly old and weary.

"I'm sorry for this Potter. You probably don't know how much. But arranged marriages are part of our society and always have been. And when so much money and power is at stake, you can't expect the Ministry to play fair. Trust me; I've been there."

An ancient sadness twisted the man's smile into a grimace, and something, perhaps the compassion and understanding in his eyes made the harsh expression on Henry's face soften ever so slightly. He forced his body to relax, allowing the tension to seep away, and finally swallowed.

"Does Monroe…has she any idea what you all have planned for her."

Another flash of pain contorted Sylvester features. He looked away. Henry's temper ignited once more.

"Do you truly believe she could ever be happy tied to a man she cares nothing for? A man she can barely stand the sight of?"

The words were cut with an odd sense of bitterness. Those beautifully shaped lips were curled into such a sneer of derision that Sylvester almost blinked. Their was an almost hurt edge to the youth's ice-cold anger, some flavour of resentment, maybe even…pain. But before it could register the strange flicker of emotion was gone. Henry's face was as blank and controlled as it had ever been, his voice empty as a grave.

"You would condemn her to a life of misery without even informing her? Or perhaps you feel it would be more romantic for me to perform the office myself?" he drawled with heavy irony.

Sylvester swallowed the snarled retort and fought to control his emotions. Did the kid think it was easy? Having been there himself, lived through the pain of having his life and his dreams sold off to better the family fortune? At least Potter and MJ actually knew the person they were promised to. At least they hadn't already given their heart to someone else.

Sylvester closed his eyes briefly at the familiar pang that still lay buried in the very depths of his heart. He loved Mary deeply, and after almost forty years he couldn't now imagine life without her. But sometimes, when he was least expecting it, the memory of Arabella's face, the dark blue depths of her eyes, the soft curve of her cheek, it would fill his chest like a barrel of water. He would, for a brief moment, choke on the past before locking up that precious recollection once more as though it had never surfaced. Mary, sweet, patient Mary had always known she was not his first choice, nor indeed his choice at all, but her loyalty and love had never faltered, and in time it had even warmed his frozen heart.

Henry's fathomless gaze on his face made the fifty-year put himself together. A suspicious glance at the lad's slightly softened expression had him swearing for the thousandth time that the kid could read minds. Stupid and undignified though it was, Sylvester found himself imagining in deliberately vivid detail exactly what methods of torture Potter would be subjected to if he ever discovered that he'd been digging round in his head.

Potter's lips may or may not have twitched. As it was, Sylvester shot him one last ferocious glare before coming back to their original topic with a suddenly despondent sigh.

"If you want me to tell her, I will." he growled under his breath, not with anger but rather with the pang of betrayal.

Henry considered him for a long moment before finally shaking his head. It was just the merest movement from side to side, but it made Sylvester's face warm slightly with a flicker of gratitude. Henry's own face was as always a mask, but the anger that had been sizzling off his skin seemed to have cooled somewhat, to both other men's intense relief.

"No. It is my choice and if anyone's, it is my fault. I should have known better."

Jasper frowned in obvious bewilderment.

"But my boy, this is foolish; how could you have known that this would happen?"

Henry threw his older friend a look of faint, rueful affection despite the urge to roll his eyes at Jasper's naivety. Instead he explained gently

"One does not miss what one has never had. If I had simply allowed myself to relax into the typical life of wealthy pureblood pleasure, they would have regretted the loss but they would have accepted it as inevitable. I did not. I stepped into the lion's jaws and showed them exactly what they stood to gain from me and more importantly, would they stood to lose at my departure. Now the Ministry would rather kill me than let me go. It was, to a certain extent, inevitable."

Jasper's blond head shook in a mixture of disbelief and confusion, his bony hands reaching up to rub his stressed temples.

"But then why...? Why do it in the first place? That is what I do not understand, my friend."

Nimbus' blue eyes were filled with genuine concern as he desperately tried to comprehend. Sylvester's tawny gaze had lifted from his grim observation of his desk to stare with a tiger's ferocity into the young auror's face. The seconds passed in silence as the two men simply watched and waited for the youth's answer but for once Henry Potter did not seem to have one ready. His features were settled into their typical mask of ice but in the depths of his hazel eyes, almost invisible save to those who knew him well, an emotion lurked and flickered. Unprecedented, inexplicable but nevertheless it was there, if only one could put a name to it...

Henry seemed to stir, his voice an empty murmur lingering on the air long after the words escaped.

" A whim, Jasper. The result of constant oppressive boredom." he finally said softly to the room. Then more loudly

"I will leave you immediately sir, to inform Monroe of our pending nuptials." he drawled, lips faintly curled, "May I offer her your congratulations and your best wishes for our happiness?."

Sylvester was not impressed.

"Out of my office Potter, or it's be your funeral you'll be bloody preparing for."

Henry merely blinked and wisely refrained from commenting on the rather microscopic chance of Sylvester finding anyone capable of sending him to hell. He made a bow, the gracious respect deliberately exaggerated to be almost insulting but before his superior could let out the scathing comment that was bursting on his lips, Henry turned on his heel and glided out the door.

Jasper looked at his disgruntled friend rather warily but Prewett was still glowering at the place the young man had stood.

"Whim…" he growled to no one in particular, "Now there's a name for it I hadn't heard before."


"MARRIAGE!"

The husky exclamation echoed round the luxurious hotel room, bouncing off the power-blue wall paper and the gilded mirror that hung above the ornamental fireplace. Henry didn't flinch, his gaze never waving from the empty space in front of him, his expression faintly bored as he stared into nothing. His nonchalance, his cold, indifferent way of announcing the news, it all only served to enrage her further.

Moniqua Monroe stamped her foot so vigorously that the glass ornaments on the mantelpiece tinkled in protest. When even this failed to provoked a reaction from him she swung on her heel in high dudgeon, whipped out her wand and blasted the entire set into smithereens.

Henry finally broke out his abstraction to roll his eyes derisively.

"You missed one." he drawled. Moniqua followed his cold gaze, her own positively spitting black sparks. Sure enough one remaining crystal fairy seemed to tremble in fear at the very end of the polished wood surface. It was the last straw.

"APUGNO!" the ebony wand slashed through the air as sharply as her thick black mane and the tiny ornament shot like a gleaming bullet towards the young man's face.

Henry Potter rolled his eyes once more before lifting his was with insulting nonchalance and, at the very last second before it made contact, lazily flicked it. The ornament curved past him and collided with the wall in an explosion of glittering crystal.

Moniqua glared at it ferociously before spinning round and resuming her hasty march back and forth across the room. The sight brought the tiniest flicker of amusement to the man's hazel eyes, softening the hard set of his lips and jaw. Inside a voice was telling him that he was acting childishly, deliberately provoking the rampaging Quidditch Star but when he caught his name muttered under her breath along with various interesting words in no less than three languages, the sight was so reminiscent of their Hogwarts days that he couldn't resist.

"There's a vase behind you, if you require more ammunition."

Sure enough she spun round like a roaring inferno, steam practically coming out her ears and her mouth open in speechless indignation. The corner of his lips twitched.

"You, you….ARGH! Especes de petits conssale batard…CABRON!" she stormed, resuming her furious pacing once more, throwing him the odd vicious glower from time to time. Finally she whirled round again, hands wide and outstretched, foot stamping in outrage.

"How could you agree? To z'is…z'is folie!"

The hint of amusement disappeared completely. Henry's face closed up until it could have been set in stone.

"I was given little choice." he said coldly. Moniqua stamped her foot again, throwing up her hands in disbelief.

"You are Henry Potter, merde! What power can z'ey hold over you?" she demanded. Henry's jaw clenched but he said nothing and she stepped closer, confusion overpowering the anger for the moment.

"Well? They cannot bribe you! They cannot blackmail you! What then can they do? Why are you just…accepting this?"

The smooth cream of his throat flexed as he swallowed down the biting retort as he fought to keep calm. For a few moments he simply breathed, refusing to lower his gaze to hers, staring instead over the top of her head into the flashing eyes of his own reflexion. Only when the blackness there had finally cooled, only then did he look away from the gilded mirror and met her look for look.

"If I refuse they will…allow someone to die…someone that I would not see dead." he finally said, so softly that she almost didn't hear. Moniqua's eyes widened in shock before narrowing into a fierce frown.

"They would not dare!" she hissed, black eyes snapping in anger but not, this time directed at him. Henry stared into nothing once more.

"I can assure you they would." he murmured, with just the faintest hint of bitterness.

A thought suddenly crossed Moniqua's mind. He felt her body tense despite her head still being lowered and Henry looked down with a faint frown, curious as to what had provoked her sudden reaction. Without looking up she said quietly

"This person…you must care about them much."

It was a statement rather than a question and for once Henry had no idea how to respond. His lips moved of their own accord, repeated his words from earlier whilst his brain accustomed to the novel feeling of being momentarily blank.

"I would not see her dead." he said expressionlessly.

Moniqua kept her eyes firmly on the floor but again he felt her tense, and in the sunlight steaming in through the open window he could see her fingers quiver ever so slightly, as though she was forcibly stopping them from clenching.

"You would marry someone you despise and tie yourself to a cause you do not believe in…all to keep t'is person safe. It seems to me obvious that you care for her very much."

Suddenly she lifted her head and the white flash of her smile momentarily blinded him.

"Parbleu Henri, you are in love!"

She laughed, a rich husky trill that may or may not have stuck half-way, Henry didn't notice. Instead he was standing as one stunned, eyes wide and jaw hanging open till suddenly sanity returned and he cut back instantly

"Don't be a fool!"

"Je pourrais dire pareille." I could say the same.

His eyes narrowed, his deep voice becoming harsher.

"Believe me, I am not in love with her."

Her eyes gleamed, bright with mockery or pain. He could feel his temper rising, crawling up his throat in a way only she could provoke in him so that he had to fight to keep his voice level.

"I am a pureblood Monroe, the sole heir to the Greatest Wizarding Family and Fortune in the land. From birth I have known that my marriage would be nothing but a business arrangement that would somehow benefit both my own situation and my spouses. Not once in my entire life have I ever indulged in the foolish notion of joining myself in matrimony to someone for love and have no intention of starting now."

The harsh monologue paused briefly and became a little more cold, more empty of whatever little emotions there had previously been.

"As my wife you will have anything you have ever dreamed of possessing. You will be free to live your own life however you desire and with whomever you see fit as long as you are discreet. Anything you want you will have, every door will be open to you. You shall have every freedom to go your own way as I shall go mine. You need see as little of me as you choose. The only thing I require in return is the eventual conception of an heir but neither of us need be concerned about that yet."

Moniqua felt as though he had punched her in the stomach. The cold, indifferent description of their life together made her almost want to vomit. Tears stung her eyes, imagining the years ahead, of loving her husband whilst knowing that he did not love her back. Knowing that he loved another. Living with him, touching him, making….

"And when the time comes….when we do need to be concerned about it…?" her voice echoed hollowly in her own ears but he seemed not to notice how they stuck in her throat.

"When the time comes there are spells and potions that can guarantee pregnancy thereby rendering only one attempt necessary. After the child is born you are then welcome to demand a divorce and I will bestow upon you whatever settlement you choose; the child will remain a Potter but you will have the right to see them as often as you wish."

The nausea reared again stronger than before as his words struck her cold. Her hands shook so she clasped tightly together hoping he would not see. The silence seemed to throb in the air like a bloody pulse until she finally sucked a deep breath and shattered it with a simple

"No."

She felt him tense and then force his body to relax.

"No?" he inquired, still carefully polite.

"No."

She lifted her head, black eyes blazing with determination and fire, fingers balling into fists as the irritated expression on his face only served to anger her further.

"I won't entrap you into marriage. T'ey can't make me! I won't let you do t'is!"

Henry's face could have been carved in marble.

"There is no question of entrapment. My marriage was always going to be a mercenary arrangement. One might say I am lucky to at least be acquainted with my proposed partner. Many purebloods are not so fortunate. As for you, I regret forcing you into an arrangement that you have not been brought up to consider inevitable. I would however point out that the advantages to becoming my wife are numerable and that I shall only inflict my presence upon you with your expressed permission. You are free to seek amusement or satisfaction with whomever you choose as long as you use precautions and remain, as I mentioned, discreet.…»

Moniqua cut him off with a bitter half-laugh.

"In other words I may fuck whom I want as long I don't get knocked up or flaunt it."

The cruel, mocking edge to her tone made his chiselled jaw set hard but he remained silent, merely bowing his head. She rather wished he'd used his acid tongue and cut her to pieces. Instead he stayed cold and callous and utterly impenetrable behind his mask of ice. Moniqua swallowed in pure frustration and swept away to the other side of the room to pause beside the brightly lit window.

"Does she really mean to you so much?" she bit out finally,

Henry did not answer straight away, and after the pause had stretched to long she turned her head to stare at him in a mixture of bitterness and hurt.

"What if I refuse?" she said finally.

"You won't." He turned his handsome head and looked her straight in the eye. "You would never let an innocent die if you had the means to prevent it."

Moniqua stared back at him, hating him for being right and yet…oddly pleased that he knew her so well. That he understood her so completely. The silence held for a long long moment but finally her lips parted

"I will do everything I possibly can to escape t'is coil…"

"Monroe…"

"BUT until then," she cut him off with a wave of her hand, "until then we will follow t'is plan and keep your…friend…alive."

Henry let out a silent sigh almost of regret but then, reluctantly he nodded, a single, sharp movement before stepping gracefully across the room until he was at her side, face to face, the pair of them like two shadows framed by the sunlit window. She straightened as he came near, her chin lifting in defiant pride, her eyes sparkling militantly despite her capitulation. He stared down at her for a moment before holding out one graceful hand.

"Then, Miss Moniqua Jasmina Monroe, will you do me the honour of becoming my…future wife."

Her lips lifted into the smirk he remembered so well, arrogant and mocking and completely irresistible.

"Why, Henry Charlus Potter, I believe I will."

She lifted her brown hand and slipped into his so that the morning sunshine seemed to turn them red like hot metal and weld them together. Moniqua Monroe looked him straight in the eye and the smile faded just a little.

"For now."


Translations;

Especes de petits conssale batard…CABRON :your basic swearwords lol, bastard, git, shitbag, take your pick ;)

Parbleu: an exclamation, either Jesus, Holy crow, you get the idea ;)

So? Tell me what you think! Chapter 26 of AOA is up if you don't already know! Must sleep lol

Luv y'all

Lili