A/N: I believe I have a slight canon violation here regarding Dumbledore's Will, but it's minor. So too bad.


Harry had somehow forgotten to contemplate just how horrible work was going to be the next morning, when he had to go into his supervisor's office and tell him why exactly he was no longer qualified to search the Malfoy place.

He finally managed to get the words out. But they didn't believe him, and they handed him a search order anyway, and it exploded in flames the moment he touched it. "See?" he snarled.

So, the secretary dipped her quill and dutifully entered into the official conflict log: Harry Potter – ongoing sexual relationship with Draco Malfoy.

The news circulated through the entire department within thirty seconds, and Harry thought his day couldn't get any worse.

But he should have known better. Now that he wasn't busy with the Malfoy assignment, he was free to do something else. He was handed a job (by a secretary who couldn't stop giggling when she looked at him) that first looked pretty good – go to Paris and check up on an old Grindelwald portrait whose Incarceration charms were starting to weaken. He was excited until the chairman gave him the small print.

"You'll leave your wand here, of course."

Harry frowned. "My wand? You want me to travel without my wand?"

"You're undercover, Potter. Disguised as a Muggle. The French Ministry of Magic cannot know that you're there."

"Why?"

The chairman made a face. "They're a bit… touchy regarding that Grindelwald picture," he said carefully. "They seem to think they've got it completely under control by themselves, and they've forbidden foreign governments from sending people in to look at it. It would cause an international incident if you were discovered. So: Polyjuice Potion, muggle transportation and a muggle passport. Details are in this file – yes, a muggle file, can't have you walking around Paris with a roll of parchment, can we. Get going. Flight leaves tomorrow morning, and I want you all caught up on your reports from last week before you go."

Harry sat down to read.


DEPARTMENT OF DANGEROUS MAGICAL OBJECTS

To: FILE
From: Classified
Re: Grindelwald painting maintenance

MEMORANDUM

An unsigned painting of Gellert Grindelwald was found among Albus Dumbledore's possessions after his death, hanging on a wall in his home. Though the inks and artistry suggest it was of Magical origin, the painting was flat and motionless. Experts believe that Dumbledore must have placed some kind of Incarceration charm on it for safety's sake. Since portions of Dumbledore's desk and papers were destroyed by a careless wardbreaker, however, we have been unable to confirm that theory, and unable to find any directions left by Dumbledore for maintaining the charms.

As per Dumbledore's last Will, all the artwork in his possession went to a muggle museum in Paris. The French ministry has therefore taken charge of the Grindelwald painting, and refuses to permit examination by foreign authorities.

Until further notice, our office policy will be that one agent per month will travel to France, disguised as a Muggle and carrying no Ministry identification of any kind, and examine the portrait to ensure that whatever magic Dumbledore used to restrain it is holding firm despite Dumbledore's death.

The portrait is located in the Louvre, where the Mona Lisa is supposed to be. It has been spelled with a weak glamour charm to make it look like the Mona Lisa – the French ministry did not want to upset the Muggles by informing them that their favorite painting has been replaced – so agents will need to use some form of anti-glamour lens in order to view it.


So, he was going to Paris tomorrow. That meant he had only one night to deal with the fallout from his great "revelation" at work, and that was probably a good thing. Ron and Hermione were probably going to kill him, and at least this way it couldn't be too slow of a death since he had to be on the plane tomorrow.

He left work early, supposedly to pack. (Really, it was because everybody's point-and-whisper routine had gotten on his last nerve and he couldn't take it anymore.)

Oddly, when he got home the wards were stirring. Not really acting up, not the way they would if someone truly unwelcome had tried to get in, but… Harry still opened the door with his wand out and Protego on the tip of his tongue, just in case.

"YOU!" shrieked someone from the foyer. Hermione. She had leaped on him and shaken him half to death before he could even sputter out a shield charm. "What happened to Malfoy's not my girlfriend!" she was practically screaming. "Harry! How could you lie to us?"

"Forget lying to us," Ron said, from the couch. "How could you boink Malfoy, is what I want to know."

"I'm not boinking Malfoy," Harry insisted. "And none of this was my idea. Honest." He sat down, but put his arms up to protect his head when he noticed that Hermione was holding a rolled-up newspaper. "Just let me explain, okay? Hey – did you actually leave work early today for this? Ow!"

She bonked him on the head once, then changed her mind and whipped out her wand. "Incarcerous!" Once Harry's arms were tied to his sides, she commenced bonking him like a whack-a-mole.

Eventually Ron came and sat at the table too, for a better view. "Is that actually doing anything?" he asked at last.

Harry was about to say no, but Hermione spoke up first. "It's making me feel better!"

So Harry just shrugged and let her bonk herself out.

When she was finally done she growled relashio and sat down as well. "We are supposed to be best friends," she reminded. "How could you keep something like this a secret?"

"Because Malfoy is not actually my girlfriend!" Harry finally got out. "Or boyfriend. Or whatever. Okay?" He told them the whole story.

And then, of course, Hermione felt compelled to apologize for having treated him like a naughty puppy. But after having apologized, she rolled up the newspaper again and reached across the table to whack him once more. "If he's your friend you should invite him over here sometime," she chided. "He's obviously lonely."

Ron started to whine, but when she turned on him with a terrible glare and a raised newspaper, he shut up. "Invite him over," she ordered Harry. "Tell him we'll all find a way to get along."

"What – now?"

"Yes. Tonight. You're leaving for Paris tomorrow, aren't you? Might as well have a goodbye dinner with your friends. With all your friends at once. Instead of hiding packs of them from each other."

Harry would have argued that Malfoy hardly constituted a pack and he wasn't hiding anybody from anything, but since she was still holding the newspaper, he just nodded and got out the Floo powder.


TBC.

Let me know what you think!