Moved from my junk drawer to this collection. Chronologically accurate, so set way after Bioshock 1 + 2. Low-priority.
The Enemy Within
The morning air was damp and fresh and Hermione breathed it in deeply as she opened a set of french windows. Pale yellow sun streaked through early fog which would probably be cleared up by the time her crumpets finished toasting. Smiling softly, glad she'd decided to eat breakfast outside, she twitched a finger to summon the necessary materials to the iron-and-oak table before her, then flicked her fingers at the matching seat to dry it. Sitting with a sigh, she picked up one of four newspapers (delivered to her doorstep these days, she had very little patience for strange owls bothering her during meals) and shook it out to skim the headlines.
Oh.
Boy Who Lived Eloping With Employer?
She shook her head, only mildly feeling the combination of outrage and pity that such scandalous articles once fired up within her. By now, of course, she was just too used to them. Beneath the headline was a candid photo of Luna Lovegood - registered Explorer and Magic Analyst - peering at an upside down map with unfocused interest whilst in the background her sponsor - and employee - juggled almost twenty bags and boxes of various sizes and shapes with an exasperated expression. Even with magic, it was a tricky task since some of them seemed to be trying to actively run away.
Technically, Harry was Luna's 'Assistant'. It was an actual job title in the Wizarding World, particularly for Explorers - which was also an actual job. Explorers were considered a rung below - or above, depending on who you talked to - curse breakers. They tended to have no formal training or qualifications beyond a passion to dive into the unexplored depths of the world and a habit of coming out alive again. The Ministries of various countries employed one or two as they fell in and out of fashion (or as rumours of various lost magical sites rose and fell) but most were either offspring of, or funded by, wealthy sponsors.
Luna had approached Harry at their final year in Hogwarts, offering him a job with her if he'd fund her searches for gulping plimbies, rambling oilafs and various other creatures that didn't exist.
Harry, weary to the bone and with no clear plan for after school, had agreed. When Hermione had railed at him for throwing his money away - especially on an unreliable girl like Luna and especially when he'd actually be working for her - he'd just waited her out before saying just five words that rocked her on her metaphorical heels.
"It's my life. Isn't it?"
Firm, yet honestly questioning. A boy who'd been pushed and pulled, bullied and manipulated for his whole life, both knowingly and unknowingly, had essentially asked her if she planned to try taking his choices away too. Chastised, she'd backed down.
But it had been the beginning of the end, for them. For their friendship. She'd felt it, in that moment. A sad, inevitable feeling. It was like the moment of emptiness, of regret, of 'now what?' after sex. Their adolescent lives had built up to Voldemort and the war and once that climax was over and their final year of schooling was racing to end before they were ready… well.
They were all tired. They all needed a break. Maybe even from each other.
But that didn't mean she wanted it to happen. That didn't mean it didn't hurt, to have seven years of closeness beyond description just… fade away.
That wasn't to say that they were strangers now, exactly. Harry still wrote to her, on a semi-regular basis. But he was… just… obviously content, with the way his life was now. With being the all-important assistant to a scatterbrained witch who was often living life half in her own head. Harry was the one who organised everything, who made things happened, who kept Luna and himself safe whilst Luna herself just came up with one crazy plan after another. So far they hadn't discovered anything - big surprise - but they'd been all over the world in all sorts of pickles and sometimes… only sometimes, mind… she could admit she was a little jealous. If only of how the two of them had managed to spit in Voldemort's face one more time by living their lives energetically to the full instead of being bogged down in post-war depression like most everyone else.
Harry and Luna were, last she'd heard, kicking back on a tropical island somewhere 'searching for Atlantis' in a manner which apparently required a great deal of banana daiquiris and limbo dancing.
And here she was, being content with just having a nice cup of tea and a crumpet in the early morning air, like an old granny.
In the background, said crumpets popped out of the toaster and she summoned them with a flicker of magic. Once they hit her plate, her cutlery - well used to this procedure - began slathering on butter and jam just the way she liked it.
Not that she hadn't done well, she hastened to assure herself - as she often did. Although her home was technically a cottage, it was one that sprawled over a decent amount of land with an excellent view of Skye Island's untouched Wizarding expanse. She had several workshops for her varying interests and although she didn't technically hold a job, she made quite a good living through her many little 'projects' and commissions. Although she held the skills to do many jobs - warding, runework, enchantment - a problem she had was that she simply found them all too boring. She was very happy to make something as an experiment or exercise in intellectual exertion but once she'd made a mirror which reflected the viewer's 'could have beens', well… she just wasn't interested in doing it again. So her market was always the wealthier crowd who didn't mind buying one-of-a-kind pieces from an upstart Muggleborn, the kind of people who would only ever purchase her expensive work as a conversation piece or simply to have it forgotten in a room somewhere. The kind of people who didn't appreciate or understand the skill that went into it, and didn't have any intention of ever doing so either.
Once, she'd turned her nose up at those people. Now they paid the bills whilst she tried to find something a little more reliable - but still interesting - to do.
The worst of it all, if she was totally honest with herself… was the loneliness. She'd never really had friends outside of Ron and Harry and it was coming back to bite her now. After Ron had… well. After he'd broken their friendship in his typical pigheaded manner, she'd clung to Harry… only to find Harry not a port to anchor herself to but just another boat, looking for his own place to shelter.
And now Harry was somewhere in the world having an interesting life. Ron was somewhere in England, hopefully choking on his own self-importance and she was…
Reading four newspapers, two British, one French and one American. Because she had more time than she knew what to do with.
Sighing, she took a bite of her crumpet and continued reading.
War-hero Harry Potter recently confounded the world when he announced his intention to not only sponsor an Explorer - something not seen in Britain since the 40's - but also to be employed by the very Explorer he was sponsoring.
"He's always been cracked." An ex-classmate offered flatly. "And not in the good way. You know he thinks House Elves should be free?"
She glared a bit at the paper. Seriously? After all her work - maybe a touch too passionate at times - organising S.P.E.W and badges and raising a stink over the whole issue - the end memory was of it being Harry's crusade?
Is this another example of our legendarily unstable hero? In a time when the Ministry and single women alike are clamouring for his attention, he chooses to play servant to a girl known for her own mental imbalance.
"I think it's sweet." A member of the public considered. "Maybe he's trying to catch her eye."
"Don't be stupid." A close friend of Mr Potter scoffed. "Harry and Looney? He's just got too much money and too much nobility to know what to do with it all - 'course he's gonna go along with her, if he thinks it's the right thing to do. He's thick like that."
Hermione's lips pursed. That sounded like Ron. He was a lot freer with the press these days. Not quite milking his friendship with Harry so much as feeling that he was newsworthy enough himself that anyone asking him questions did so because they were interested in him and his opinion on things.
Or maybe that was her bitterness talking.
As Mr Potter remains unavailable for comment, we at the Daily Prophet can only speculate. The lack of any apparent success of previous expeditions have lead some to wonder if the arrangement is simply a cover story - be it for a quiet romance or less-than-legal activities.
Clive Monolith, a recent auror graduate, is independently investigating the possibility of an international smuggling ring. The Daily Prophet will follow this story as it develops.
This time she rolled her eyes. Considering how unforgiving Minister Brocklehurst was of any abuse of power (that wasn't her own) she rather expected the next development would be the firing of one Clive Monolith.
She rested the paper in her lap and picked up her tea instead. The fog was almost completely gone by now and the morning sun was touching gold to the green and purple hills unrolling before her. Maybe she should stop reading the papers. Stop fooling herself that she was an active, contributing member of society. Stop pretending she was anything but an aimless shut-in with no goals, no family and no life.
…Maybe she should just have another drink.
The Enemy Within
"…I don't think this is the place." Harry lifted his hand to cover his nose. The sea breeze was rancid here, choked with rotting seaweed or whatever the slime coating all the rocks was.
"Of course it is." Luna replied absently, studying a massive metal door set flush into the large stone lighthouse the two of them stood outside. It was midday and the sun was beating down with unrelenting force. Only the breeze - stinking though it was - offered any relief. But whereas Luna, in her one-piece yellow swimsuit under a loose orange macrame t-shirt and pants, had plenty of opportunity to enjoy it, as her official pack mule… well, Harry wasn't so lucky.
Over the three years since leaving school, the two of them had found a comfortable rhythm in their Explorer jobs. Luna had the wild ideas, dug up the strange stories to chase and somehow found them one ancient or undiscovered corner of the world after another. Harry? Well, Harry was The Assistant. He was the guy who booked and paid for all their tickets, who took care of customs and snuck them past border guards. He was also their wand and shield, tackling the various protections or dangerous conditions they stumbled over with a combination of brute force and the edge the Elder Wand gave him. Luna was clever and abstract and she could decipher languages she'd never seen before simply by (apparently) listening to their echoes. Her odd 'sight' which had all of them wondering if she was a seer or just intuitive during the war, continued to manifest itself in unexpected and minor ways. She never, ever, stepped on the trap stones or touched the electrified handles or tripped the concealed wires. When something she couldn't avoid came up, she just stopped and waited for Harry to handle it.
There had been some teething problems, in the beginning, but by now? They worked well together.
Although sometimes it really did suck to have her pull 'Me Explorer, You Assistant' so that he had to carry all their stuff himself. Especially when life-or-death situations meant you couldn't afford to rummage in a pouch for a shrunken item. Because of that, over a quality tank top Harry wore what was essentially a vest of straps and belts. Three courier bags (saddle bags, Luna insisted, for 'the loot') were clipped to his waist, one on either hip and one over his backside. A simple system of loops and Velcro strips allowed him to sheath a crowbar against his back, laid cross-wise over a short, magically reinforced machete (both unbelievably useful in their line of work) and all manner of pockets and clasps along his front let him maintain ready access to various potions/materials, pencils, torches, wrenches, snacks etc. Add to that his black hemp pants and sturdy boots? Yeah, he was sweating.
"Hmm. Harry?" Luna stepped back from the door, apparently unable to open it. Harry glanced up at it, then up some more. He couldn't help but feel a strange sense of foreboding. Then again, it wouldn't be the first time.
"You're sure?" He asked again. Luna slanted him an exasperated look but placed her wand on her palm regardless.
"Point me: What I'm looking for." She commanded. Her wand spun once and then tugged down towards the ground. Snatching it up and stowing it away, she looked to Harry with an arched brow.
"Fine." Harry sighed, waving his hand at the door from which came the sound of massive metal bolts sliding back before it cracked open. With the Elder Wand braced to his dominant arm, little and familiar spells came easily.
Luna squealed and dragged the door open wider before slipping in, dashing into the gloom beyond. Harry chased her, stepping a little slower as lights cracked on automatically only for half to crackle, throw sparks and die.
This place… it's Muggle?
"Come on, Harry!" Luna's voice floated up from below, distorted slightly by the metal walls. Harry slunk down to join her, back to the wall and watchful. Muggle places had their own style of security and unlike magical ones, they tended not to reveal themselves to the magically sensitive.
Still, nothing jumped out at them. An old song was playing over the speaker system but it kept skipping and repeating like an old record. Creepy, but not necessarily dangerous. At the deepest part of the room there was a large pool of water that glittered malevolently black.
Luna directed a focused beam of light from her wand into the depths, revealing a mossy green but smooth tunnel running dead straight down. Harry rolled his shoulders and tried not to sigh. You wouldn't think he'd be claustrophobic after his childhood in the cupboard, but it seemed to grow on him with every narrow crawlspace or dark tunnel.
"Clear it." Luna muttered, staring intently at the even distribution of lumps. A twitch of Harry's finger and even he was blinking in impressed surprise at the polished steel statues and tinted stones revealed beneath.
"This is no hidden military base." He observed. "They don't tend to bother with decor."
Luna looked up at him, eyes wide with childlike excitement.
"It's much better!" She breathed. "I think… Harry, I think I've finally found it!"
She sat on the edge, slipping her legs into the freezing Atlantic water without a single shiver. A swish of her wand and globes of light sunk down to illuminate at least a mile. Almost laughing with delight, she bit her lip and beckoned him down with her.
"Harry… We've found Rapture!"
The Enemy Within
"Woah, there, Luna." Harry quickly wrapped a hand around her upper arm to stop her just diving in to try swimming down. "I'm not an expert or anything, but even I know that humans can't go very deep under water unprotected."
Luna tilted her head at him - her 'I don't think you know as much as you think you know' look - but obligingly pulled her legs out of the water.
"Okay, Harry." She humoured him. "We can use the drop-ball."
Harry looked around at the empty room. Looked back. Refused to ask what a drop-ball was.
Grinning cheekily, Luna pulled a small metal ball from her pocket and flicked her wand to restore it to proper size. It landed in the water and bobbed cheerily, bouncing from edge to edge.
"Oh." Luna frowned. The metal ball was very obviously too small to fit into the brackets running down the back of the tunnel.
Harry flicked his wand into his hand.
"Assistant!" Luna commanded. "Enlarge the drop-ball!"
Harry enlarged it, twisting his wand slightly in order to gently lift and re-place the sphere's backside onto the tracks built for it. Helpfully, his magic snapped open and closed the locks as needed.
As he finished, his magic dropping away, something connected with a loud clunk and the lights inside the sphere flickered on. Luna squealed and dashed inside, throwing herself on to one of the seats. Ducking carefully through the opening after her (and wondering if enlarging a metal ball designed to withstand massive pressure was the smartest of ideas), Harry settled on the opposite seat and kept the incantation for the bubble-head charm firmly in mind. Or would it be better to try apparition?
"Onward!" Luna cheered, grabbing a lever and pulling. With a wrench of metal the door slammed shut, locked, and they descended.
The Enemy Within
