A:N: I do not own Harry Potter, the characters and locations used in it, or the songs mentioned in it.

Sorry for the long wait. I've been busy trying moving to a new house and with jobs. I hope it hasn't been too long.

I hope you all enjoy this chapter!


I wanna take you somewhere so you know I care

But it's so cold and I don't know where

I brought you daffodils in a pretty string

But they won't flower like they did last spring

And I wanna kiss you, make you feel alright

I'm just so tired to share my nights

I wanna cry and I wanna love

But all my tears have been used up

- Another Love; Tom Odell


"I think you can either be friends with someone or in love with them. I don't think you can be both."

- Stefan Salvatore; The Vampire Diaries


Chapter Ten: Bewitched Promises

Harry was not looking forward to coming to work the following morning. He had not fallen asleep since that dream he had and he was a bit grumpy throughout his usual morning routine. He hardly paid attention to Lily at breakfast as she told him what kind of school project she would be presenting but he was able to respond at the right moments. She seemed to not want to talk about what happened the night before and he'd like to keep it that way for a while. He knows she overheard but she was patient until he decides to talk to her about it. He was glad to know she had gotten that from him.

Ginny did not talk to him but she still acted like they did not argue a few hours earlier. A part of him was alright to not be straightforward with the night but the other part of him loathes the fact that they left everything unresolved. He knew sooner or later that they will continue it again only it will be when Lily is not around. He did not mind wanting to fix the drift wedged between them but he was dreading for the moment to come because he knew that the calm before the storm will not last if one of them is vague to the other and he knew the one will be him.

Ginny had to leave earlier for work and he had to drive Lily to school. Ginny had gave her a kiss on the forehead and a wish for good luck but she never paid any attention to Harry. No kiss, no goodbye. She just left promptly without a glance. Harry knew he was going to have to get used to it for the meantime until they speak again. He knew she was very upset with him if she is giving him the silent treatment and he honestly cannot find it in him to be angry about it. He had spent the remaining silence of the morning thinking about his fight with her; he understood that what she said what true. He had been spending more time with Hermione than before and because of their previous living arrangements, Ginny had gotten used to seeing his face frequently throughout the day, but now he was taking any time of his day to see his best friend than his wife.

He knew he is the guilty party on this one.


The day was frigid as the last days of summer slowly morphed into the fall season. People were starting to sport heavier coats and baggier pants. Many coffee shops were flooded with greedy customers. Aromas of hot chocolates filled the atmosphere of Muggle London. Bus stops were deprived of daily passengers and the streets were crowded with more cars, honking loudly and rude words being exchanged. It was a typical day in London.

The school was not very far from Godric's Hollow and Harry did not mind the small traffic on the way there because he would get to see some of the rebuilt buildings that had been attacked on during the war, loving to see a reminder that the worst was truly over. He was glad he was the driver; he had the window sit automatically. The windows were rolled down and he tried to enjoy as much breeze from the morning, knowing that Lily was warmed up in her thick sweater.

Lily was playing with the radio while Harry drove, shaking her head in disapproval. Harry noticed this and smiled amusingly as he watched her continue to change stations from the corner of his eye.

"Is something wrong, princess?" he asked, his mood bright.

Lily groaned. "There's no good music on," she huffed, crossing her arms. "I hate morning stations."

"Check the glove box," he insisted, grinning. "I'm sure there are a couple of CD's in there."

Lily immediately complied eagerly and soon found a small CD case. She began to go through the sorts of genres on one page after another. Half of them belonged to James and Albus but Harry was willing to allow Lily to go through them to keep her entertained on the long drive to school. He also wanted to know what kind of music they have nowadays because the parental side of him wanted to make sure they were listening to songs appropriate to their ages. Whether they have caught the habit of growing up with old school music like Hermione did, some were still too strong for James and Albus to even know about. He would love to be able to have the horrid "talk" with his two boys as soon as they hit puberty.

Lily had pulled out a record and was already popping it into the radio slot. Harry was anxious; she did not tell him what album it was. As soon as the first few notes started to play, Lily let out a squeal and turned up the volume until it hurts Harry's ears then she leaned back as she sang along with the lyrics. Harry quickly rolled up the windows to avoid disturbing the peace of other pedestrians or drivers and then turned on the heater on low.

Harry concentrated very carefully to the music, his foot twitching along with the rhythm of the lyrics blasting through the speakers, and the rapid-beat tempo of the music was drumming into his ears. The way how the many instruments were being played gave Harry a cheerful spring, forcing a smile to stretch on his face, and bob his head along with the pace. A variety can be heard being played; the drums, the banjo, the piano, the accordion, the fiddle, the trombone, the tenor saxophone, the flute, and the bass. There was more than one vocalist heard singing and Harry wondered where are the voices like that nowadays. He could not understand but the song sounded oddly familiar.

"Who is this?" he asked Lily, who was swaying to the beat in the passenger's seat and shaking her head, her hair swishing along with her movements. It made him tap on the steering wheel with the rhythm.

Lily stopped moving to look at her father with a wide grin. "It's Come On Eileen by Dexy's Midnight Runners," she answered happily, her spirits as bright as the song. "It came out in 1982."

Impressed, Harry raised his eyebrows. "And you know this how?"

"Albus," she said with a shrug. "He always plays this for Christmas New Years."

Harry knitted his eyebrows together as he tilted his head to one side, focusing harder on the music overtaking his ears. He remembered it clearly now; James would have this song playing in the family room after everyone would open their presents and the kids would be seen dancing in the center of ripped wrapping paper and opened boxes or when they would go out in the backyard to play a few games of Quidditch. It was another thing that became a holiday tradition between the two merged families.

"What are we going to do for Christmas this year?" Lily asked.

"I don't know," he shrugged. "I haven't really talked to Ron or Hermione about that yet. Maybe we'll go to your grandparent's this year."

Lily frowned. "Isn't grandpa still in the hospital?"

"Yes," he sighed. He had forgotten that he should not have mentioned that around either of the kids. "But don't worry, I'm sure we'll see him for Christmas," he said with a grimace. He did not like to make promises that he could consider guaranteed especially when it is someone's life on the line and he was not sure whether Mr. Granger was recovering from his unknown disease.

"I hope so," Lily murmured. "I miss him, daddy."

"I know, sweetie. I miss him too."

He let it drop. His eyes became a darker shade of green as he glanced at his daughter worriedly. He slowed the car down slightly once he saw a row of cars ahead of him, and then he screeched to a stop when he was close to see the streetlight glow brightly red.

"Have you thought about what you want for this Christmas?" he asked as an attempt to prevent the conversation from going south over the mentioning of one of her favored grandparents.

Lily shook her head. "No. Well, actually…" she paused for a moment, humming lightly, drumming her fingers against her knees, and pursing her lips. She reached for the radio to turn down the volume a bit. "I just want to be with everybody this year. With James, Albus, Hugo, Victoire, Fred, Roxanne, Molly, Lucy, Dominique, Louis – everybody!"

Harry was amused at how she was able to say all of that in one breath.

"And I want the new Nintendo NX," she added cheekily.

Harry grinned. "You sure that's all you want? That's quite a big gift."

"That's what I want," Lily confirmed.

"You'll need to write the letter to Santa," he pointed out. "And I'll make sure he gets it."

The light flashed green; Harry didn't hesitate to quickly accelerate from the moment the cars began to disperse separately in front of him and he turned on Auson St. Other cars that were about to switch on the same lane had honked at him angrily because he had apparently cut them off but he knew that was an excuse to not seem idiotic for not looking.

"Will he be able to grant my wish?" Lily questioned curiously.

"I'm sure he will," Harry said. "He granted all your other Christmas wishes before. I'm sure he'll try to make this one happen. Remember, Santa Clause is one of the most powerful wizards in the world, honey. First and only one to be able to travel the world by night."

"I thought you were the most powerful wizard in the world," Lily pointed out with the innocent naiveté of a nine-year-old.

"No, besides me," Harry chortled. He enjoyed to see his children acknowledge him for an accomplishment he never thought he would work hard for in his life and that they held that respect for him as well as a father. He preferred theirs over the millions of the wizarding world.

"Does that mean Santa can beat you in a duel?"

"No, he can beat me in a race to send presents around the world in one night and being jolly – he's the best wizard at that. But I can beat him in a duel – that's my specialty."

"But you are jolly, daddy. You're always jolly when you're drinking butterbeer in Christmas."

Harry laughed, thinking, Nice to know that she can't tell what Firewhiskey looks like.

St. Paul's Cathedral School was considered to be the White House of London due to its uncanny resemblance and often mistaken as a daycare with the many children seen in the large field playing various games of soccer and cricket. The uniforms reminded Harry a bit of the ones from Hogwarts only it did not come with robes, just a formal dress shirt, sweater, trousers, skirts, and shoes. The genders were separated by color; blue for boys and white for girls. He actually liked the idea because it made it easier to spot Lily among the crowd even though her red hair stood out the most.

A few minutes later, Harry saw the entrance to the school parking lot and he slowed down as he went into the line of cars. After he reached the gate guard, he showed him his license and ID before he proceeded forward to drive up to the curb of the drop-off area. He undid his seatbelt and climbed out of the car to gather her bag from the backseat but then, as Lily shut the door to her side, he froze on the spot at the scene he saw in front of him.

Standing a few feet by the entrance, talking to the headmaster of the school, Neil Chippington, and to woman with jet black hair and a petite form, was Hermione. Hugo was standing behind her with his arms crossed and was sending a scowl at the young boy behind the woman, who was sticking his tongue out and making rude gestures with his hands. Neither of the three adults have noticed as they were in what seems to be a deep conversation.

"Uh oh."

Harry glanced down at Lily, seeing that she had her Tangled backpack strapped to her shoulders, and she had an expectant look on her face as she watched, shaking her head.

"What's going on?" he asked curiously.

"Hugo got in a row with Jamie yesterday," Lily answered swiftly. "He's been bullying Hugo ever since he beat him in football. He's a sore loser, that one. And yesterday, he said something about Rose and that set Hugo off."

Harry stared at her. "You knew what was going on and you didn't say anything about it?"

"I did," Lily said quickly. "But Hugo always lied and got mad at me. He said I should mind my own business. We're not talking anymore."

Like father, like son. Harry frowned and looked ahead to see Hugo and Jamie were awkwardly shaking hands in front of the three adults. Hermione had her brow arched dangerously so Harry knew that she had scolded him to behave better and Harry understood if Hugo complied wordlessly if he ever saw that. He had been on the receiving end of that look. That brow arch of hers was surprisingly terrifying; it meant many possibilities but one never knows what could happen.

He looked back down at his daughter to see her pouting sadly as she watched her cousin with downcast eyes. He lowered himself onto one knee and turned her to him by the shoulder. Her eyes seem brighter than normal and glistened a bit.

"I'm sure he'll come around, sweetie," Harry reassured comfortingly. "I can promise you that he didn't mean what he said to you. He was just upset. People say things they don't mean when they're sad or angry. Now that his problem with Jamie is over, I'm sure he'll apologize and everything will go back to normal between you two."

Lily sniffed. "Really?"

"Really," he nodded before he pulled her in his arms for a tight embrace, kissing her on the crown of her head as he stroked her hair and she laid her head on his shoulder with a light whimper. He knew she did not want to be in any bad terms with Hugo because he was the closest person she can have around as a sibling like she is to him. They complete the absence of their missing siblings and it helps them not yearn for their return often.

Harry pulled back, letting her lift her head, and gently rubbed his thumb over her eyes to wipe away the unshed tears.

"Now go with your chums, ok? I'm sure they're missing you," he said and she nodded. He gave a brief kiss to her forehead before he straightened himself and stepped back as she skipped away. He watched her for a moment as she made her way towards the entrance, seeing her short swish across her backpack, making sure that neither of the older students bumped into her as he knew that some can be abusive to the younger years with unnecessary reasons.

"Auntie!" she called out excitedly.

He was not expecting his daughter to head over to Hermione on her way to the entrance. He noticed that Hugo had already left, probably on his way to play more soccer with some of his other friends, and Jamie was also gone along with his mother and the headmaster. It seemed the conflict between Hugo and Jamie had been resolved.

"Lily Bear!" Hermione laughed as she caught her niece in her arms when she leapt into her and lifted her from the ground to spin her around, making the young girl to giggle pleasantly.

Harry smiled fondly, tilting his head slightly. He enjoyed being able to see the motherly side of Hermione whether it came from her children or his. It seemed like an inevitable nature of hers from the start and seeing it towards the younglings, he can see what others saw when she cared about him and Ron. Then Harry frowned when he caught himself admiring her. He had not come to terms that he might possibly be in love with Hermione – he found it too soon to tell over a couple of dreams.

He made his way over to the two as Hermione settled Lily down on her feet.

"Are you coming over for supper tomorrow?" Lily asked, hopeful. Harry can picture her ears lowered and a tail wagging like a puppy.

"Only if you're coming today," Hermione said.

Lily nodded vigorously. "We will!" She turned to her father. "We will, won't we, daddy?"

"Yes, we will," Harry grinned. It was impossible for him to not smile whenever he saw her act so enthusiastic. "But you need to behave until then."

"I will!"

Hermione laughed as she stroked the top of Lily's hair affectionately, combing her fingers through the luscious strands. Harry had to stop himself from thinking how perfectly normal it seems for his daughter and best friend to be in sync like she is with Ginny. It felt wrong to even have that kind of thought of a child of his with another woman who isn't her maternal mother but he was not sure if it was because he felt awful for Ginny or because Lily was not truly Hermione's daughter.

"Auntie? Is Hugo still mad at me?" Lily asked sadly.

Hermione frowned with a sigh. Harry figured that Hugo must have complained to her about Lily. She kneeled by her niece and gently placed her hands on her shoulders as she stared directly in her eyes with a shine of comfort.

"Don't worry about Hugo," she said. "You know how he is with his pride and all. Unfortunately, he inherited his father's emotional range of a teaspoon when he was in his age."

Harry had to hide his smile with the back of his hand as she said this. It was the same words she told Ron in their fifth year and to this day he still found it humorous because it was true. Sometimes he and Ron would tease Hermione about that comeback because she was rather sheepish to have said it without a thought. According to her, it came out beyond her control but they knew that she was just enjoying the moment of tease and laughter.

"But knowing that, he'll come apologizing before supper tonight," Hermione continued. "You're his best friend and he'll never want to lose you. So don't worry, ok?"

Lily gave her a watery smile as she nodded in understanding. She lunged forward to give Hermione a warm hug, which she returned with earnest and gave her a soft kiss on the temple as she stroked her back.

Then the school bell rang; all the kids were already moving towards the main entrance, chatting animatedly, and others were seen sprinting hastily as they had just arrived to the school. Lily pulls away from Hermione as she straightens up to her feet.

"Best get to class now," Harry said, nodding his head towards the flowing crowd.

Lily pouted but nodded before she turned and skipped her way towards the main entrance, glancing back at her father and aunt over her shoulder with a bright smile. Her figure was slowly disappearing within the crowd of older students but, through the gaps, Harry can see that she had reached her friends and was already engaged in a hyper conversation full of giggles and secrets as she trudged through the front door.

Harry looked at Hermione to see her starring after Lily's disappearing form with a pleased smile, her fingers gently stroking the hollow of her neck. He hadn't noticed that she was wearing the necklace he got for her birthday until he saw the glint shining off from the dim sunlight. He was also admiring how the chain was perfectly settled around the arc of her throat and how the otter-shaped pendent rested on her collarbone. He felt a sense of pride at this.

"Let's get going, Harry," Hermione said, turning to walk back to her car. He did not see the slick gray 99' BMW parked in front of his car until he saw her striding towards it.

Harry recalled Ron and Hermione struggling to pick an automobile suitable for their family but also to their liking. They settled in buying one for each when their pays were manageable. Ron always preferred to have the style of the latest generation like the Volvo S80 because he wanted to be able to speed through the narrow streets of London. However, Hermione fancies the idea of owning a classical car like the ones her parents used to own but still manage to stay in the era. Personally, Harry liked both styles of transportation but he'd rather to have Hermione's car because Ron's had several breakdowns that needed to be taken to the mechanics and Harry did not want to be the cause of heavy traffic and Hermione has own the same car for over nine years and she had not gotten one problems except whenever she needed to change its oil.

Apart from that, Harry would go with the classics.

Harry was disappointed by her lack of communication with him and it also worried him a bit. Normally whenever Hermione does not talk much it meant that she has many thoughts running through her mind or she is sad or she had another disagreement with Ron. He can only hope that it has nothing to do with the last option. He decided to follow her to their car without a word, thinking that perhaps she would speak to him when she wanted to.

It seemed like an impossible task for him to stop fumbling with the handle of the door and slide inside the car, knowing that Hermione is in the car in front of him. His hand would not stop trembling under his dismay as he shoved the key in the ignition and he heard Hermione's car purr to life. His foot had swiftly threw the car in reverse, almost hitting the Toyota Corolla behind him, but luckily he was able to stomp on the brake in time. He took a deep breath before he pulled out of the drop-out zone with greater success and passed Hermione's car. He stared straight ahead as he reached the exit but from a peripheral peek, he could have sworn he saw Hermione laughing.

Driving down the road, Harry tried to think hard about the case and not at the sounds of an engine roaring trailing behind him. He did not drive slowly, not wanting to cause a path of destruction, but he certainly did not go any faster than he normally does. He did use a bit of magic to be able to pass the red lights.

When they reached a restaurant, they parked nearby an alleyway. Harry kept his head down as he climbed out his car and casted a Locking Charm on it. His cheeks burned red when he heard Hermione let out a giggle as the clacking of her heels came closer to him, and he stuffed his hands in his pockets while he walked down the alley self-consciously. Hermione never stopped giggling. She sounded like she was trying not to but was failing unashamedly.

"Not funny," he mumbled.

"I didn't say anything," she said.

"Your laughter says otherwise," he pointed out, and she choked out a snicker. He glared at her but it only made her sniggering increase and rolls her eyes while she puts her hand in the crook of his arm.

"Are you sure you got that license fairly, Harry?" she asked teasingly. "Or was a bit of the Confundus Charm used?"

"I feel insulted by this," Harry replied in false hurt, and pouted. "I can't believe my own best friend thinks so little on my abilities as a Muggle."

Hermione laughed. "Don't act so soft, Mister Potter or then I'll begin to question your abilities as Head Auror. Sensitivity is not required in your job description."

"You're in a teasing mood today, aren't you?" Harry raised an eyebrow. "A bit too cheery, may I add."

Hermione matched his strange expression. "What? I can't have my good days?"

"No, no, you can," he said quickly, noting the edge in her tone. "It's just you…I thought…never mind," he sighed, shaking his head.

"No, you were going to say something," she said. "Tell me."

Harry shrugged. "There's nothing."

Sighing, Hermione frowned. "Harry, tell me."

"No."

"Don't be stubborn – just tell me!"

"I don't want to."

"Harry!"

"Hermione!" Harry said in the same childish, whining voice she had used as an attempt to persuade him into confessing, and then he let out a laugh when he saw the impassive face she had on. He loved these moments when he can get her riled so easily and knowing she isn't exactly bothered by his tantalizing acts but actually amused. He knew how to not push the boundaries of her limited sense of humor.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Haha. Funny."

"You're bipolar today," Harry commented bluntly.

"I should be saying that to you," Hermione said. "One minute you're embarrassed from your "almost accident" and now you're mocking me."

"I always mock you," Harry said with a sly grin. "You're not that hard of a person to impersonate."

"Is that so?" Hermione challenged with a slight laugh. "Say and do something I normally do then."

Harry, seeing this as another opportunity to tease the witch, just turned his head away abruptly, tilted his chin up with a fake scowl, and then, in his best feminine voice, huffed out, "Honestly!"

Hermione, after a moment of her mind registering what she saw, bursts out in howling laughter, the sound heard echoing in the alleyway and then rebounding back to them. Harry watched her look alive, admiring the little things that came when she was loose from her uptight composure; the lift of her cheeks, the crinkling corners of her eyes, and the tip of her tongue tracing the corner of her lips. He instantly realized what he was doing and immediately turned away, forcing his eyes to stare ahead. It was difficult because of the infectious sounds coming from her but he restrained himself.

"I – do – not – sound – like – that!" Hermione said through her cackling.

"Yes you do."

"I do not."

"Hermione," Harry said. "Come on."

"I do not sound like that, Harry Potter," she huffed, rolling her eyes. "Hone-" She quickly clamped a hand over her mouth, her eyes widening in surprise, and Harry laughed pleasantly as he gave her a sly grin.

"See? Told you," he said smugly.

Hermione swatted him in the arm lightly and he chuckled as she blushed heavily, grumbling lowly under her breath, "Cocky prat." They continued to trek down the alley, their footsteps heard pattering on the concrete, the horns and tire squeals of cars zooming by, the chattering of people walking by heard buzzing, and also various dogs barking or cats hissing are sounded nearby. They were reaching the end of the alley where they can see the bright redness of a telephone booth.

"Seriously, what were you going to say before?" Hermione asked.

Harry groaned, tilting his head back. "Is it really that important to know?"

"Yes." She looked like she was joking but Harry could not be so sure. "You just seem to be acting very coolly – not too emotionless but not intact with them. It makes me wonder what you're thinking about."

"I always tell you what I'm thinking," Harry said.

"Not all the time," Hermione accused playfully. "About ninety-seven percent of the time, you edit."

"Not very much," Harry muttered under his breath.

"I'm still curious about what's on your mind," Hermione retorted casually, never taking her eyes off of his face.

Harry did not respond and he wondered if he should ruin the moment of playful peace with his thoughts. He did not want to speak about his disagreement with Ginny from the previous night because he did not want to relive the guilt and sadness that comes with it but he truly wanted to know about Hermione's night. He figured perhaps she does want to talk about it with him but does not know how to bring it up. But then that would not sound like Hermione at all. She takes things head on and if she wanted to talk about it, she would have brought it up as soon as they left their cars. Or it could be that she knew what he had on his mind. She was always able to read his mind like the thousand open books she owns. He was not sure if he should be glad about that or aggravated.

In the end, Harry decided to throw caution to the wind. He lets out a deep sigh as he comb back his hair, revealing his lightning bolt-shaped scar on his forehead temporarily, and then he scratched his neck.

"Ginny and I had a row last night," he admitted reluctantly.

"I'm guessing it's because of that article by that wretched bint, Rita Skeeter," Hermione said, her tone soft with guilt and defeated in acceptance. Harry instantly knew that she already saw the newspaper and he was glad that he did not have to explain in full detail like Hermione would have liked.

"You guessed right."

"Ginny should know better than to believe a word from that bint. She read her articles and she worked with her for years now. Making faux stories is her specialty. You would think she learned her lesson after fourth year but obviously she doesn't have a brain in that thick head of hers. Nothing but a hollow skull, I say. And she's trying to relive that old story of me going after famous wizards again. Honestly. She doesn't know a thing about originality. Maybe I should go pay her a visit and bring her back to her small home of a jar to-"

"Hermione. Hermione!" Harry interrupted abruptly, slipping his arm away from her hand and then grasped her by her shoulders to give her a quick shake. Once he saw that he has her attention, he said with an amused smile, "Breathe. You're rambling."

Hermione exhaled deeply, her shoulders slagging slightly. Harry can feel the tense knots of her muscles disappear into soft skin as she breathed evenly.

"Better?" he asked.

"Loads," she replied with a nod as Harry pulled his hands away from her shoulders then she slipped her hands back on the bend of his elbows and they resumed walking towards the telephone booth. "Sorry about that. You know how I feel about her."

"I do," he said.

"So what did Ginny say about it?" she questioned carefully.

Harry frowned. "What do you think?"

Hermione ignored the rough tone of his words and said, "Assumption of being unfaithful. Dislike of spending too much time with me. And rumors running amuck. The list is endless."

Harry blinked. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're spying on me or the same thing happened to you with Ron."

He saw her grimace at the mentioning of her husband; he immediately knew that he had reached the peak of her behavior and that his previous thoughts were once again correct. He would not be surprised if Ron had waited for Hermione's arrival to stealthy mention the article and Hermione, being observant and aware, probably caught on to his trick and they ended up having a loud discussion themselves. He was honestly glad that his arguments with Ginny were not as strong as Ron and Hermione's or otherwise the neighbors would have called the police for making such a ruckus.

"I wish the first one was true rather than the latter," Hermione sighed.

"Ron cornered you too?"

"Last night and this morning," she said. "I have a feeling we're going to have another one when I get home."

"Makes two of us," Harry mumbled.

"Please, Harry," Hermione scoffed, rolling her eyes. "You have a bigger advantage to getting Ginny's forgiveness than I have with Ron."

"What do you mean?" Harry inquired.

"You can get her a present or something – anything that she likes," Hermione answered with a shrugs. "Some girls love stuff like flowers, chocolate, and maybe even a small apology stuffed bear. Anything that shows how sorry you are really."

"Not Ginny," Harry chuckle. "Have her met her, Hermione? She doesn't have a soft spot for those kinds of things."

"I said some girls," Hermione pointed out. "I know better than to even suggest flowers or stuffed bears to Ginny. Chocolates on the other hand – you can get her some chocolate eclairs. I remember her telling me once that she's obsessed with those at George and Angelina's wedding. Try getting her that."

"I'll keep that in mind," Harry said. "What about you? What happened with Ron?"

Hermione frowned. "He's upset with me, obviously. Telling me that I'm spending too much time at work and not enough at home with him and Hugo. Then he tells me about the article, saying that instead of going to a pub, I could have gone and visit Rose. He's angry about how Skeeter wrote that article about us but he also didn't like how "cozy" we looked in the photo either. He found it a bit discouraging…"

Harry felt her grip on his arm tighten, her nails digging through the fabric of his black slim, long-sleeve shirt, and raised his eyebrows in alarm as he watched her face transition from sourness to fury.

"But the main reason why we had a row was because he dared to bring my father into it," she continued, her voice filled with an animosity that Harry did not think she was really capable to gather. "Saying that I hardly ever visit him anymore now and how upset he must be by my lack of attention to him, talking about him as if he's already dead. I may have said a couple of things that pushed the wrong buttons in him but I don't regret it. He brought my father in it and he should know better than doing that. Especially now."

Harry did not need to hear any further. He knew what Hermione meant. The topic of speaking of one's parent who has their life balancing between life and death has a heavy sensitivity. Along with being pressure with work and trying to maintain a healthy relationship with a child is also difficult. Harry wished he could understand how Hermione felt about the conflict she is in. He only knew what it is like to have a row with his spouse but to have the pressure of a community to put a man behind bars, the stress of a significant other having expectations that seem impossible to reach, the weight of needing to attend a child, the apprehension of a parent's health on the line, and then the drifting relationship of a first born seemed too much for Harry to even think about.

He is rather startled that Hermione is even able to stay sane. The immense workload she has to juggle with every day, hourly, was frightening. With bills to pay and taxes due lodged in the equation, Harry could feel his head throbbing in pain as he tried to calculate how she is able to do so. He has no doubt that Ron takes care half of the responsibilities like he is supposed to as husband and father but when he thinks about Hermione's part, he was appalled. Although she is one of the most organizing people he knows, there is a limit to such payments and he wondered if she had ever reached it without his knowledge.

They were near the telephone booth when Harry heard a choked squeak and a sniffle coming from Hermione. Horrified, he looked at her to see her eyes were swollen, red around the rim, and a wall of tears were forming up, making her brown eyes seem blurry. He paused on walking, her moving along with him, and he took her hand off his arm to turn her to him by her shoulders. She gazed at his collarbone, avoiding his worried eyes on her.

"Hermione," he whispered cautiously. She slowly lifted her eyes up to meet his as soon as her tears spilled over and ran down on her pink cheeks. Seeing this, Harry sighed and brought one hand up to her face to gently wipe away the unwanted tears with his thumbs. "Come on. Don't cry," he pleaded helplessly.

Hermione's lips quivered as a ragged hiccup escaped from the back of her throat and more tears leaked onto her face, moistening her cheeks in a drenched mess. Then, unexpectedly, she dropped her head forward onto Harry's chest, burying her face in his torso, making him let out a stunned gasp, and then her body began to shake violently as she released one sob after another, the sound muffled in his shirt. Her arms came up to wrap around his middle strongly in a tight embrace, locking her hands together behind his back, as she cried.

Harry's had his arms helplessly limped on his sides, unsure how he should continue. He did not have much experience when it came to girls crying. Ginny hardly ever cried, at least not in front of him, and neither of his children ever wailed whenever they got a scrap on the knee or when they end up hurting each other as they wrestled. They all just embraced the pain that came with a wound and kept on with their activities. He had seen Hermione cry; he had offered her his shoulder when she was broken over Ron and Lavender's then relationship. But, aside from that, he did not know how to handle in comforting someone crying. Emotions through physical contact or mentally were never his specialty. He had lacked it all his life because of the Dursley's and even though he has many dear women in his life now, he still did not know what to do.

He felt horrible to not be able to do much for Hermione, knowing how crushed and despondent she is, and he wish he had allowed himself to get involved with more women during their Hogwarts years so he could have the experience. He can feel his shirt was beginning to feel wet in her drowning tears and her breathing was unleveled as she kept bawling. The noises pained Harry; he justify that the thousand pressuring weights have finally gotten to her and she clearly held off a lot of emotions for a long time with the way how she lamented depressingly into his torso.

Hesitantly, Harry raised one hand to gently stroke her hair while he slithered the other around her waist, landing his palm on the small of her back, and began to carefully rub in a circular motion. He felt her stiffen, and he was worried that perhaps he was doing something wrong, but then he relaxed as she loosened with a deep breath. Relieved, he continued to hold her whilst she wept, listening to her in silence (as much silence as he can with the commotion of the streets from the end of the alley) and after a moment of consideration, he tentatively rested his cheek on the top of her head as he pulled her closer to him, engulfing her petite figure in his arms.

Hermione sniffled, turning her head to press her cheek against his chest, and tightened her hold around him. Another broken sob emerges from her and she heaved in a gulp of air.

"Shh," Harry hushed her quietly, surprising himself from the softly and gentleness he showed. He weaved his fingers through her hair, scratched his nails across her scalp, and rubbing the nape of her neck.

"I just wish he could see things through my perspective," Hermione whimpered. "He makes me seem like the bad guy without considering the things I do. He doesn't understand the sacrifices I'm making."

Harry remained silent. He knew that she needed to rant out all the pent up feelings she has been keeping bottled up for a long time and he did not know how long it has been since these specific problems began between his best friends, but he just knew that he wanted Hermione to stop feeling so small. It made his chest squeeze in an unpleasant way that made it seem incredible how he is able to still breathe and the emotions he can sense coming from her are affecting him greatly that he can feel the back of his eyes stinging a bit. He never knew that the tears of a woman can have such a powerful effect on him.

"He's always going on about how I'm not home often, how I need to spend more time with the kids, and how we barely see each other now. He doesn't understand. I'm working so hard to make sure our kids have everything they need and that it's safe for them to go out. I don't like the idea of them being outside when there's dark wizards or snatchers on the loose and I'm working hard to make sure they're put behind bars – all of them. I know Ron or the kids don't like me being away so much. I know that's why Rose isn't so close to me – I know Ron talked to you about her that night – and it hurts me so much that she thinks so little of me as a mother. I don't want the same thing to happen with Hugo. I love the both of them so much…" she paused for a moment to breathe in deeply before she continued, "Ron makes it worse whenever he reminds me that my daughter resents me. He has an easy job where he can come home whenever he likes but mine requires my time almost twenty-four-seven. I can't take a break and Ron can't seem to just support me through it and that's unfair because when he was training to be an Auror, he hardly had time for me or he was too tired and I supported him through that. So why can't he do the same for me?"

Harry sighed deeply. He understood Hermione's position perfectly. When Ginny used to play for the Holyhead Harpies, she was gone on tour for months and her letters to him were less than often. He had begun his Auror missions with Ron at the same time so he hardly sent any of his own too but whenever he did he would sent her his words of encouragement and honesty. He had missed her terribly but he understood that the distance between them was caused for good purposes and when she had gotten pregnant with James, she chose to retire from her Quidditch career so she could be closer to her family.

However, they did have their heated moments about his career whenever he was not home to help raise James. He felt unsupported at the fact that he's risking his life daily to arrest the wanted people who tried to kill them in the war and he was close to his breaking point as the responsibilities of his merged world piled up. But the difference was that Hermione had been there to even things between him and Ginny. She would take the time of her day to help Ginny with James at home and with him at his job when she was just an beginner of her job at the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures at the time so her work was not as intense as it was now. He was grateful for her involvement at the time because he knew that if she hadn't offered her help then his marriage with Ginny probably wouldn't have lasted.

But this bothered Harry, mainly with himself. Hermione had been able to help him with his struggles yet he is not doing the same. A few lunch dates and leaving their job together was not gratifying enough for him. He just witnessed her having a breakdown on the many hardships she is facing – a feat he did not think to be possible for someone like Hermione – and all he is doing is holding her while she cried. It was not enough for him. She needed more than just a simple hug from a friend – she needed somebody to show her that there is faith in what she does and her reasons behind it. Ron was too focused on the effects outside of her actions that he is blinded to what is behind. Harry felt a sense of disappointment in his best friend for that.

They stood there for a couple of minutes, tightly holding each other, as Hermione cried her tears into Harry's already-damped shirt with him gently stroking her tamed hair and his other hand stilled on her trembling back. Through the moment, he can hope that she cannot feel the rapid beating of his heart thumping in his chest due to the close proximity between them, and he tried to not think about it because his main priority is to stop her from crying. He did not like the noises or the sight; he felt uncomfortable just standing there not being able to do much.

Then, finally, Hermione pulled away from Harry and wiped away the lingering tears from her cheeks, sniffling a little. Harry had slid his hands down to her waist, barely brushing his fingers, but he never moved them in case she needed another hug. Hermione must have noticed his indecisive hesitance because she took his hands in her and loosely held them between them as she looked up at him with a watery smile.

"Sorry about that," she said. "I didn't mean to ramble on like that."

Harry shook his head. "It's fine."

"It's just," Hermione sighed. "It's a lot, you know?"

Harry nodded, pursing his lips. He did not trust his voice at the moment; his mind was wired at how well the moist skin of her fingers felt grazing on his. Bloody Potter! She's crying in front of you and you're more interested in her hands? You twit. It's not the first time she held your hand! Quit acting so ridiculous for Merlin's sake!

Breathing deeply, Hermione released his hands to wipe them over the thigh of her slacks and Harry noticed what she was wearing for the first time since he saw her; a black blazer over a white and black striped shirt, and her choice of footwear were a pair of matte black heels. The shine of her wedding ring nearly blinded Harry with its sparkling diamond.

Harry stared at it for a moment before Hermione cleared her throat and he blinked to refocus on her, realizing that she was looking back at him.

"We should get going," she said, giving him a vague smile before turning away from him and taking a few steps towards the telephone booth. "We'll be late."

Harry nodded, still staring after her. He had recognized the look on her face to be the same one she had on that night he saw her talking to her mother. The smile seemed broken, like she was forcing it. The corners of her mouth were twitching slightly and it never reached her eyes. They seem darker than they possibly could. And that worried Harry to no end.

"Hermione?" he called out to her and she turned to him with curious eyes. He did not know what possessed him to say it but the red rims of her eyes brought an unexplainable pull of the words that stung out of his mouth. "I'm here."

Her face matched the confusion he felt; he did not know why he would say that. But he continued to speak.

"I don't blame you," he said, bemused. "And I don't think Rose thinks little of you as a mother – she just misses you."

Hermione's eye began to glisten and become brighter at his words. Harry was afraid that she might start to cry again and that he was the reason behind her tears; he turned away because he would not know what to do next. He would not be sure if another hug would be sufficient enough to comfort her. But, as he looked at her face again, he was relieved to see that she had a hopeful smile and her eyes were still full of tears but they were of happiness and joy. Harry was glad that he was able to make her feel like that.

Then he held his breath as Hermione took two long strides towards him and flung her arms around him. His heart accelerated into a double pace as the scent of chocolate hit his senses and the sound of her laughter hitting his ears gave his chest a pleasant squeeze but he felt like he was suffocating by the lack of oxygen. He gently patted her on the back as she nuzzled her face into the crok of his neck, her hair tickling his ear and cheek.

"Thank you, Harry," she whispered, her lips grazing over the shell of her ear as she breathed. "Thank you so much."

Harry nodded silently, swallowing thickly. Hermione released him, flashing him the kind smile that seems to have a strong effect on him lately, and was wiping away the tears from her face again. For a moment, he was brought back to how she looked when the war was over.

"Better?" he asked cautiously.

"Loads," she said. The smile on her face did not seem to falter. She placed her hand lightly on his arm and gently squeezed it, nodding her head towards the telephone booth. "Now come on or we'll be late for work."

Harry smiled as she went to open the door to the booth and followed her inside, sliding the door closed behind him whilst she dialed in the code. When she was done, she turned around to face him and he can feel his face become exceptionally warm at the fact that there was hardly space between them as he stared at her. From this day, he is still surprised that he was able to grow tall enough to be looking down at her rather than forward, and he did allow himself to accept the fact that he did find Hermione's short height to be adorable. He found short girls attractive. He figured that must be one of the reasons why he was attracted to Ginny and now he is to Hermione.

He wanted to smack himself for thinking like that. Really, Potter? You're comparing what attracted you to Ginny with Hermione now? They're both the same height so it doesn't make much of a difference!

As they began to descend, he looked down at Hermione; her doe eyes were so dark that he could not see her pupils, too brown to be able to pinpoint what she feels or what she knows, and held a mysterious void of endless curiosity that gives Harry an unbearable itch to find out. He can feel his toes curling in excitement – the same feeling he usually gets whenever he is out on an assignment or whenever he is sharing a night of sensual passion with Ginny – and he could not understand what it was that Hermione's eyes held to make him feel such a way.

Had he ever felt like this whenever he looked into Ginny's eyes? He had. In the beginnings of his attractions towards her, he would feel a surge of an electrical current shake through him like wires and it would draw him towards her to want to stare deeper in its depths. They reminded him of blue lightning of a storm or the lights of Bluebell Flames spell. They were enchanting, enticing even, and he never saw a perfect shade of blue like Ginny's. But now, he just felt a rush of simple respect and faith whenever he looked in Ginny's eyes; the rush of adrenaline had died down into a tame routine now and it concerned Harry that what he felt for Ginny at the start is now happening with Hermione, especially when he had looked into her eyes many times before.

Could this be another notice that he is realizing now?

Harry cleared his throat loudly as he leaned back against the booth, stuffing one hand in his pocket and the other scratching his nose while he gazed down at his feet.

"Are you going to interrogate Amycus today?" Hermione asked, her voice startling him a bit.

"Yes," Harry answered quickly.

"It's a shame I can't be there to see the action," Hermione said wistfully. "I got an appointment with Twinky and later a meeting with Kingsley about the case. He wants to know how the process of collecting evidence is doing."

"He should have locked that blimey bastard a long time ago – no trial needed," Harry pointed out. "He saw him at the war – Voldemort was too occupied with me to keep track of a spell – all of this is unnecessary."

Hermione sighed. "I couldn't agree with you more. But unfortunately, it doesn't work like that in the government. If it weren't for the vote of the other counselors, Kingsley would have sent him straight to the Dementor's as a treat."

"Counselor's votes be damned – no offense," Harry said.

"None taken. I know I was excluded," Hermione said with a smirk before her face hardened. "But Kingsley couldn't just claim Rowle's defense guilty if it isn't in his favor. He may be the Minister but there are certain things he can't overpower by title. Think of it as the President of the United States – he needs the acceptance of other houses on his decisions. He's there to keep order of things and lead the nation just like Kingsley is. You get what I'm trying to say?"

Harry stared at her blankly.

"You didn't get it?" Hermione asked in disbelief.

"No, I got it," Harry nodded. "I'm just starting to question why I'm working with politics now."

Hermione laughed.

The booth halted; Harry slides the door open and stepped out quickly from the cramped space, rolling his shoulders with a groan. He never liked that choice of transportation because he felt claustrophobic whether he was alone or accompanied with another, his frame was much too large for the booth.

"I'll see you later, Harry," Hermione said. "A little warning though – Ron is cooking supper today. Probably spaghetti."

Harry raised a brow. "We're not eating lunch today?"

"The meeting might take longer than an hour and I don't want to leave you alone like that. I certainly don't want to leave you alone with that prat of an assistant of mine either. Gerald would make you go mad for sure without me there to restrain him," she chuckled, shaking her head. "Plus, you should take the time making up with Ginny. Go and visit her during lunch. I'm sure she'll appreciate it and you'll be back to her good graces again."

Scratching his head, Harry murmured, "I suppose so."

"Good luck with Amycus."

"Thanks. Good luck with Kingsley."

Hermione smiled and gave his elbow a quick, soft squeeze before she turned away. Harry stared after her, feeling like every step she took away from him and the smaller her form became within the bustling crowd, he could feel a strong force wanting to demand his feet to follow after her. He wanted to see her eyes again, he wanted to get lost in the black hole of her gaze, and he wanted to feel his heart run another marathon as the outpouring of thrill tremble within him.

He wanted to go in a secret frenzy but he knew he needed to keep himself tamed for the sake of himself. He did not want to go through the fuss of embarrassment and confusion like he almost did a few minutes ago in the booth. He was surprised that she was relaxed while he was in turmoil within his thoughts.

Harry sighed, shaking his head to push out his thoughts of her eyes, and began walking down with the flow of the crowd towards the lifts, feeling rather ashamed of himself.

Because, as bright and captivating Ginny's blue eyes were to him, and how easily enchanted he can get with a simple glance of them, it seemed pale in contrast to the dark and alluring epinephrine he would leave him as a mess that comes from Hermione's brown eyes.

It felt chaotic…

…it felt violent…

…and it felt hostile…

…and Harry had never felt so alive like that before.


One of the difficulties that come with Harry's job is when he has to look directly in the face of those who murdered thousands of his life and have to grip his fists tightly as he stared into the eyes that taunt him with the screams of the ghosts they had tortured. He could not recall the numerous times he had to be pulled away from interrogation sessions by his colleagues in his earlier days whenever he was assigned to question a suspect under custody or the many times he had to be suspended until he is clear in the mind to continue with a case. He should have been fired when he had punched a Snatcher for disrespecting him by mocking the many people he had snatched in return for money but oddly he had been given a warning instead and he never got to find out why. He was just pleased with the good luck he had.

Harry had decided to go in the interrogation room alone but he had two Aurors stationed outside the room in case Amycus had tried any methods to escape. He is wondering if his abilities as an Auror is faltering if one of his wanted criminals was able to live in disguise for the past nineteen years under his nose and he wanted to be cautious. It had been a while since a Death Eater was held down and he did not want to go through the struggle of hunting him again.

Harry was walking down the narrow hallway towards the interrogation room, his eyes skimming over the unrolled parchment in his hands. He had just finished writing the terms of the Bewitched Contract not too long ago and he was proofreading in case he did not make an error because one mistake would ruin when he performed the charm on it. It could cause the contract to burn into ashes as soon as the receiver signs it.

Harry scanned over the parchment thoroughly once again. He thinks that Hermione's studious ways had finally rubbed off on him.

Witness Agreement

This Contract is made on [Insert Date]

Between

The Ministry of Magic

And

[Insert Name of Inmate]

Number: [Insert Inmate Number]

THE PARTIES AGREE AS FOLLOWS

1. The following are the terms agreed under the binding contract between the Ministry and the Inmate

FUNDAMENTAL TERMS

2. The purpose of this contract is to have permission of the witness to be present in court under the favor of the Ministry when called upon and speak under the oath of law.

3. The witness must agree to not speak to suspect in custody before or after the court is in session. Witness may acknowledge suspect through eye contact when under oath of law.

4. Witness will be required to write a statement which will be presented in court. If a change in the statement is spotted, witness shall be escorted back to Azkaban with doubled sentence.

5. Witness will be under the protection of the Department of Aurors until after the end of court session. Aurors are required to use physical force on witness if necessary or if any signs of homicidal behavior are anticipated from witness or among suspect and witness.

6. Witness shall not speak about case to those excluded from contract.

7. Witness agrees to proceed with previous sentence once court session has ended.

COMMENCEMENT AND TERM

8. The witness enter into this contract on the Commencement Date is fully aware of all terms and undertake to abide its conditions without exception.

9. This contract shall be effective for the period of time from the Commencement Date. The parties shall discuss whether this contract and the arrangements made under this contract are satisfactory and whether the terms of each party have been met.

CONCLUSION

10. We the undersigned have read and understood the arrangement of this contract. We freely accept the terms of this contract and have acknowledged this by our signatures below.

Signature: [Insert Name]

Date: [Insert Date]

Signature: [Insert Name]

Date: [Insert Date]

Seeing that there was no grammar error in sight, Harry took out his wand and pointed it towards the parchment. He was already standing in front of the interrogation room without him realizing and the two Aurors he requested were already stationed at their post, watching him expectantly yet readily. He nodded at them respectfully before he performed the charm.

"Occultae Veritatis," he recited and then the words on the parchment were seen becoming blur for a minute then it became clear. He saw that the ink was solid and the words above turned from AGREEMENT to RELEASE FORM, covering up its true form. He scanned the parchment once again before he rolled it up and then placed it inside the folder. He turned to the two Aurors in front of him with a stone expression.

"Make sure no one gets in unless it is confirmed by me and no one gets out unless they're with me," he commanded.

"Yes chief!"

Harry pushed the door open and stepped inside the room. The scene was bright to him as soon as he entered. He can see Amycus seated at the same chair where Rowle once occupied; he was wearing the same clothes he was arrested in only they were clad in dried dirt and smelled of sewer water – the scene to the prison. There were also dark smudges around his face and slight purple bruises from when he collapsed at the market.

"Carrow," Harry said curtly.

Amycus raised his head from his arms, a hard scowl on her face. Harry flicked his wand towards the door, casting a quick Locking Spell and then the Silencing Charm. He did not want to risk any information being leaked out from within any walls under the name of his department or Hermione's and he knew that reporters from the Daily Prophet would try to gather as much as they could through anything and everybody.

"You know why you're in here right?" Harry asked as he went to sit down on the chair across from Amycus and set the folder on the table in front of him.

"Hmm," Amycus sighed dramatically, rolling his eyes. "I'm guessing for selling clothes to witches and wizards? Living a life under another name? I don't see any reasons for my arrest, Chief Potter."

"You're under arrest for the murder of witches and wizards throughout the years, your servitude to Lord Voldemort, the usage of the Cruciatus Curse on innocent students of Hogwarts, usage of the Killing Curse, impersonation of another fellow wizard, murder of Charlie Twan – my officers found his real body in the storage back at the store - and association with the werewolf, Fenrir Greyback," Harry explained. "You're also being charged for hiding from imprisonment and assisting other wanted criminals such as Jugson. For all your actions, you're facing twenty five years to life as punishment. Parole will not be included. Other punishments will be decided by the counselors of the Wizengamot."

"Well that's a bit harsh, don't you think, Chief?" Amycus inquired mockingly, cupping his jaw as he leaned against his elbow on the table. "And with no evidence too? Not even a trial to prove my innocence? I'm starting to think you favor your suspects."

"Statements from witnesses and memories of those who survived against you are concrete enough to confirm your judgment," Harry said gruffly. "No trial needed – counselor's words."

"I see," Amycus murmured. "So what am I here for if my fate is already decided?"

"You're here for another case," Harry said. He pulled out the parchment from the folder and slides it towards Amycus across the table then he transfigured the folder into a quill. "I have a proposition for you and I'm sure you will find it to your liking."

Amycus took the parchment in his hands and glanced over it before he raised an astonished brow. "A release form?"

"Yes."

"For what price?"

"For a case I need you in. I'm sure you've heard about your comrade Thorfinn Rowle going to trial for his crimes, yeah?"

"Yeah, I've read about them," Amycus replied casually. "Surprised that barmy git isn't rotting in hell like I expected. Guess not all good things happen to just good people."

Harry ignored him. "I need you as a witness on the stand for court."

Amycus raised a brow in amusement and surprise. Harry tangled his hands on the table, his face impassive of all emotions, and he pursed his lips.

"And why should I agree to this?" Amycus questioned.

"Because if you follow along with this then I can assure you that I will drop all charges against you for all your crimes."

"I highly doubt you would."

"I would have to if you sign that release form," Harry lied effortlessly. "It's charmed the same way as the Unbreakable Vow. The terms are that if you go along with the process then you will be freed, you won't be under surveillance, and you will be welcomed to go where you like if you do not go against the law."

"So if I do break this vow then I'll die?" Amycus asked. "And if you do the same so will you?"

"I will die but if it's broken on your end then the binding of this contract is done and I will be allowed to hunt you down again and arrest you for all previous charges," Harry answered gruffly.

Amycus scoffed, sliding the parchment back toward Harry with an uneasy scowl, and leaned back into his chair as he folded his arms.

"I'm afraid I'll have to decline," he said, not sounding sad at all. "To risk my freed or lack of and for another who had stupidly let himself get captured by you fools is not worth so much to me."

Harry chose to go on a different approach. "And your sister?"

"What?" Amycus' interest was piqued. "What about my sister?"

"If you look closely at the fundamental terms," Harry began, sliding the parchment back at Amycus. "You can see that if you choose to agree then the charges on her with also be dropped and I'll call back my officers who are searching for her at this moment. From my last report, they are close to cornering her over at the Virgin Komi Forests in Russia. And from what she's done, she'll be facing a life sentence in Azkaban with no parole."

Amycus was silence; his Adam's apple was bobbing up and down as he shifted his weight around in his chair and his eyes were darted everywhere except Harry. The Head Auror instantly knew that he already got the suspect under contemplation and had broken the ignorant barrier with the mentioning of his sibling. Like Alecto is to Amycus, he would shield one of the only precious people he can depend on with his life. For a moment, Harry felt bad for manipulating.

"But if you sign this form then I can guarantee you that she won't have to live like that as well as you," Harry said with false sincerity, bottling up the remorse he felt bubbling up in him. "You two will be able to live life normally and start over. You can get away from this life. All I need is for you to sign this and come to court as a witness. After that, you're free to go."

Amycus stared at Harry intently. "What do I need to be a witness of?"

Harry held out the quill to Amycus, pointing at the parchment. Amycus reluctantly took the quill and quickly wrote his signature in a messy scrawl, added his cell number, and then the date before he tossed both items back at Harry who copied his actions. Once he was done, he slipped the parchment back in the folder.

Now we're getting somewhere, Harry thought. "The night when Rowle's parents were murdered," he explained. "We have sources confirming you were there along with your sister. We know how Rowle killed his parents too. We have evidence to put him behind bars – quadrupling his charges to a possible death sentence."

"Okay and…?"

"Unfortunately he came up with a ridiculous story of being under the Imperius Curse by Voldemort," Harry said. "It was enough to convince the counselors because it was possible enough to be true but unfortunately he had a few flaws in his story. Right now we need to confirm that he was never under the influence of the curse. That's where you come in and tell me." Harry stared directly into Amycus' eyes with a dark look. "Was he under the Imperius Curse when he murdered his family?"

Amycus laughed heartily. "Of course he wasn't!"

Harry felt a wave of pride and relief wash over him, rolling over to the base of his spine as he tingled in anticipation. He was able to manage himself and seem unaffected by this as he cleared his throat, balling his hands into loose fists.

"Thorfinn is – how to I say it? A complex fellow," Amycus continued. "He hated his parents with a passion and his loyalty to the Dark Lord was so deep that it was frightening. Some even thought he was obsessed. When he came across Voldemort, he was given the test to prove how much faith he had in ridding the world of all Mud- sorry Muggle-borns," Amycus quickly corrected himself when he saw Harry had given him a hard look, "and he came with the idea of killing his parents."

"But why his parents?" Harry asked. "They were pure-bloods."

"They were supporters – they were blood traitors," Amycus said. "Thorfinn never got along with his parents because they were fascinated by all things related to Muggles. They were involved in several campaigns for Muggle-born rights and worked with such a kind. Thorfinn, however, saw them as dirt. Inferior, below, or lower than the ground he walked on, Thorfinn would spit on it. He quickly won the trust of Voldemort when he came with the idea of his parent's death."

"I see," Harry murmured.

"Is that all?" Amycus asked.

"Yes it is," Harry said, rising up from his chair and stuffing the folder in the pocket of his coat. "Thank you for your time, Carrow. Now I'm going to send in one of my officers so you can write a statement and all you have to worry about is coming to court and then you're free from all charges. Your sister included."

Amycus nodded silently. "This isn't a trick, Potter? I'll actually be able to leave after this case?"

Harry kept his face steady of all emotions. "Yes," he said calmly. He pushed his chair in and walked away from the table as an attempt to avoid being interrogating of his true intentions. He already felt bad for using a family relative as an excuse to gain information but he quickly crushed the feeling with the fact that he is able to put two men behind bars where they belong and he was glad to know that he is able to move forward.

"Potter."

Harry halted and turned back to Amycus to see him staring at him cautiously, almost as if he was thinking hard.

"Last time I saw Jugson, he was using Polyjuice Potion to look like Galvin Gudgeon," Amycus said. "He told me he was going to Montana for a meeting with one of our own. I don't know who but all I know is that he is traveling there like a Muggle. He has on an Apparation-Locating Charm he was never able to take off. I suggest you look through trains and planes if you want to capture him and whoever he is meeting up with."

Harry's eyes widen. He recognized Galvin Gudgeon as the Seeker for the Chudley Cannons, Ron's most favored Quidditch team. He remembered reading in the Daily Prophet that Galvin was spotted in Twilfitt and Tattings signing autographs to his fans and was reported to be doing poorly in the practice hours recently as if "he had never flown a broomstick before in his life" according to what he read in the article. Harry found it strange that a well-known sports icon is suddenly faltering and he had shrug it off because he knew that the Chudley Cannons were not exactly an elite team in the league. But now he understood why: Galvin Gudgeon must have been murdered by Jugson.

Swallowing thickly, Harry nodded. "Appreciate it."

"No problem."

Harry undid the Locking Charm on the door before quickly exited the interrogation room with ease, his jaw clenched tightly. He can hear his knuckles cracking as he tightened his fist, nearly breaking the skin of his palm as his nails dug deeper.

"Chief?" one of the Auror's standing by the door called out worriedly, probably noticing the strong look on Harry's face.

"Dillingham," Harry breathed deeply through his nose and turned to the focused Auror, handing him the folder he just took out of his coat. "Take these to Counselor Granger and send in Mal for Carrow – and you, Carter – get Smith and Reynolds. Tell them to go to Galvin Gudgeon's house for an investigation and come back with a full report on my desk before nightfall – now!"

Both Aurors nodded, blessedly not asking for any further information, and then they separated to opposite directions down the hallways, living Harry to guard the door until the writer comes. He pushed back the sleeve of his coat and looked at his watch; the hand containing Ginny's picture was seen pointing at the Daily Prophet and above the time read to be eleven-fifty-two. It was eight minutes until his lunch break.

Perhaps he should take Hermione's advice and visit Ginny at her job. He will need to see where he can buy those chocolate eclairs she is obsessed about once the writer comes.


Harry was quick to disapparate from the Ministry as soon as the writer came with a security escort and he was immediately consumed within the rapid crowds of Diagon Alley. He was able to slide through the flow of consumers to head over to the bakery, hardly acknowledging the greetings from those he passed by and entered the colorful building, the sugary smells instantly hitting his nose as soon as he stepped inside.

The baker was a small, plump woman with cherry red lipstick and a pixie haircut. She had a warm vibe with the soft stare of her hazel eyes and she smelled like the bread and frosting, a tasting flavor. When Harry pushed the door open, her attention looked up as the small bell rang and Harry felt flustered at the encouraged smile she sent his way.

"G'day, Auror Potter," she said kindly as she wiped her hands off the ragged apron tied securely around her waist and swiping off the cake batter stains on her blouse. She seemed excited to see a famously known wizard such as Harry to be searching through her store and he was not sure if it was because she hardly had any celebrity visits for a while or if it was because he hardly ever showed up in the bakery. Ginny is the one who comes to collect the desserts or he would bake for evening dinners when he has the ingredients he needs and judging by the look of admiration, he knew that Ginny spoke of him during her visits.

Harry approached the display counter calmly. "Uh…" He placed his hands on the top as he looked through the selections on sight. He can see various kinds; toffees, cupcakes, brownies, cakes, bread and butter puddings, Chelsea Buns, Eccles cakes, fruit cakes, mince pies, and trifles. They were all deliciously tempting that Harry could feel a sweet tooth growing and his mouth watering at the sight.

"Anything you like sure?" the woman asked patiently.

"Um," Harry pursed his lips. "By any chance, do you have any chocolate éclairs?"

"Chocolate éclair?" the woman grimaced. "I'm sorry, we don't make that here."

"Oh," Harry frowned. "That's fine then."

He was about to bid his farewells to the baker and leave the building but then the woman had stopped him. He turned back to her out of curiosity as she went around the counter, walking towards the door that will lead her to a backroom.

"Let me Floo Chef Fournier," she said. "He makes the best chocolate eclairs in France. Just give me a moment."

Then she elbowed her way into the backroom.

Harry looked around the bakery aimlessly, wanting to distract himself from the uncomfortable tension he is feeling for being in an atmosphere so foreign to him. The bakery had been built in 2008 to replace the old one that had been shattered during the war and it had quickly been named as number two in the sweet charts due to its famous Tickle Taffy. He had not tried them but he had heard that the cherry flavor could be felt tingling on the tongue, making it last at least twenty-four hours. It did not affect the other food eaten on the particular day it is consumed but the taste does not leave at all either. It is a clever invention for children or the holidays such as Valentine's Day and Christmas. He figured he should buys some for the kids.

A rattling sound came from inside the backroom, startling Harry out of his thoughts. He was able to hop over the counter and head inside to assist the baker but then the woman was seen stepping out with a white square box that held an aroma tempting Harry to peek inside. She smiled at him warmly as she placed the box on top of the counter.

"Here they are, sir – chocolate eclairs," she stated.

Harry pulled out his wallet. "How much?"

"Oh no, it's on the house," she said quickly. "Chef Fournier was so honored to have you request for them that he wants you to just have them. He said it was enough of a price for him."

Harry frowned. He really did not like when someone would give him something for free all because of his name. He took out six Galleons from his wallet and placed them on the counter next to the box.

"I don't know what the actual price is for them but give him three of these for me," he said, taking the box in his hands. "The other three are for you. Thank you for your services."

He gave her a gleaming smile, dazing the baker momentarily.

"Uh," The baker shook her head, blinking. "Y-your welcome. Have a good day, sir."

"You too."

Harry walked out of the bakery, clutch on the box. Several eyes turned to him as he walked south down the market place, other murmuring his name under their breath as they spoke to their comrade, and other just simply watching him closely. It was a rare sight to see him come out of the bakery with a mysterious box especially when he never goes there.

In the south side of Diagon Alley is where the publishing building, Whizz Hard Books, is at and next to it is where the Daily Prophet's main office is located. Before he used to remember it there because the publisher is the one who made his favorite book, Quidditch through the Ages, that Hermione had given to him in their first year and he remembered Rita Skeeter giving it a horrible review. He still held a grudge against her for that out of the millions ones he has.

When he reached the Prophet building, he was bombarded with reporters asking him about Amycus and the Rowle case, although, he swiftly passed by them with ease without them knocking over the box. The building was larger inside than it seemed on the outside; there were various cubicles of typewriters magical writing down what the reporter is speaking, manual machines magically steaming out papers of new editions, large walls of window glass where Harry can see people setting up collected information into the familiar organized structure he has seen for years, and there were closed rooms where Harry assumed to be dark rooms were photographs. He had heard Ginny speak about her job frequently from the beginning that he already knew what was inside. He did not expect himself to feel like he was reverted back into 1922.

Technology is slowly taking over, Harry thought musingly, staring around at the typewriters he sees as he trudge past the cubicles.

"Chief Potter?"

Harry turned around to find himself facing a dashing man with bright hair, dark eyes, and a chiseled chin. He was wearing a gray button-up shirt rolled up to his elbows and black slacks. His matching shoes seemed polished in the light. He recognized him to be Dean Rogue; he was a regular colleague of Ginny's and he would occasionally come to their house for dinner with his wife.

"Hey," Harry said.

Dean grinned. "Hey mate. What you doing here?"

"Um," Harry blushed lightly, lowering his head a bit as he gestured towards the box. "Is Ginny around?"

"Ginny?" Dean's brows knitted together. "Erm, I think she's in a meeting now with her team. You want me to tell her you're here?"

"Yes, please," Harry said, nodding.

Dean quickly ran off to the east directly, waving at those who call out to him, and Harry saw him cautiously knock on a door. He waited for a minute of silence then the door opened and he entered.

Harry exhaled a huge breath as he leaned against an empty table, seeing at the surface was vacant of supplies and an occupant. He can see some of the employers were beginning to stare at him, some seeming hesitant to come up to him while other were unwelcoming – he knew those were the ones who are grumpy at him for not giving away any information on his cases - and there are friendly ones who would greet him as they walked by carefully to not tip over the box from his hands.

Knots were forming in his stomach to be caught within the eye of lies and gossip when he heard heels stepping towards his direction and he looked up to see Ginny heading his way.

He pushed himself off the table as soon as she stopped in front of him and crossed her arms.

"Hey," he murmured, feeling a bit self-conscious under her hard stare. Her face was calm and free from signs of anger but, after knowing her for a long time, Harry learned that it is her eyes that truly show what she feels. And he can see through the pale blue that there was a raging dark ocean at the sight of him.

"Hey," she said insolently. "What are you doing here?"

"Um," he flicked his eyes around the area for a second, noting that the roar of questions had suddenly died, and then he turned to her. "Can we talk somewhere private?"

Ginny sighed, biting her lip. "They're staring at us, aren't they?"

"Yes."

Ginny sighed and turned away from Harry, walking towards the stairs that lead up to the second floor as Harry followed behind her not too closely. He could hear light murmurs and whispers softly surface from among the cubicles but he chose to ignore them. The only thing he is concern of is to fix things with Ginny. She literally pushed her way into her office and he trailed afterwards, kicking the door open behind him before he placed the box on her desk.

"So why are you here?" Ginny asked after a brief moment of silence.

"I came to apologize – for last night."

Ginny breathed deeply, crossing her arms again. She did not respond immediately and Harry did not pushed in any deeper. He knew she was collecting her thoughts on his random visit and his reason why as he was too. He did not think of it as unbelievable or odd but he just felt like he was being brought back to the beginning of when he used to do this often and the feelings of exhilaration and the ease in his nerves whenever he saw her reminded him why he was in a relationship with her. Perhaps that is why Hermione suggested him to see her.

Wicked witch that one, Harry thought cheerily at the realization.

"You were right about last night," he began to explain. "I haven't been focusing on you since Hermione's father got admitted. I haven't been home often. And I have been too focused on Hermione lately too – I won't deny that. I disrespected you as my wife and I didn't mean to. I just had a lot going on in my mind."

Ginny leaned against her desk, her posture never changing. Harry felt anxious at her lack of communication and chose the latter; he opened the box, revealing the deliciously baked chocolate eclairs covered in various frosting flavors. He can hope that one of them is her favored taste. He looked at Ginny to see her mesmerized by the view, clearly astonished to see her preferred dessert displayed to her from him, and he smiled slightly. It reminded him the many Christmases and New Year's he shared with her. But then she erased all emotions from her face as she turned back to him and his smile dropped.

"I know it sounds like an excuse but it's just…I had a lot of things going through my head right now and I am trying to sort them out," he continued. "I didn't mean to make it seem like I don't care about you or to be inconsiderate when it comes to you…my mind just isn't with me lately. I've been rattled on about everything that's been going on that I've been really thick about you and Lily." He let out a sigh as he scratched his head. "As for the whole thing with Hermione…I'm sorry about that the most. I really didn't realize how much I've been spending time with her until you pointed it out. She is one of the many reasons why I'm so out of it – I'm worried about her. Her father and her…they share a really close bond – closer than the one she has with me or Ron or anybody in her – and for her to see him in the hospital…it's hard for her to just sit there and not be able to do anything. If it weren't for that bloody law of not performing any form of magic to or in front of a Muggle then he would be back in health again."

Ginny's face began to soften again.

"I really am sorry," he repeated, his eyes pleading and his voice soft in desperation. He truly wanted his wife's forgiveness. He does not know why but whenever it came to a member of the Weasley family, he could not live with the idea of any of them enraged towards him. His fights with Ron would be torturous, his disagreements with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were heartbreaking, and some of his arguments with Ginny were unbearable. It was like they had a magnetic pull within him that hurts when he is beyond the range of five feet from them. He does not know if it was because he has seen them as his family for years or because they are the only family he knew who welcomed him warmly for the first time.

Ginny sighed. "I told you last night about the whole Hermione's dad in the hospital but it's about you being so stressed is what I don't get. You never come to me about these things and that affects me and Lily a lot more than you think."

"I know," Harry said.

"No, you don't," Ginny shook her head. "You don't know what it's like, Harry. So don't act like you do when it's not true."

Harry exhaled. "Alright."

Ginny's lips twitched as she glanced down at the delicate treats. "Is that all?" she asked. "Because I got a meeting to get back to."

"I…" Harry hesitated to reach out to her, not sure if she would allow him to hold her hand or push him away like he did to her. "I don't like us being this way, Gin. I want to fix this."

"It'll have to wait till I get home," she said haughtily, turning to make her way towards the door.

Harry followed her closely. "Gin-"

"I'll see you at home," she said as she opened the door and held it for him. "Leave the chocolates - I'll make sure they won't get spoiled."

Seeing as she was determined on her choice for later, Harry sighed deeply and stuffed his hands in his pocket as he slowly walked out of the office with his head low. He heard the hinges creak behind him and he quickly turned around as the door shut tightly, the shade drawn. He can see the silhouette of his wife fade as she walked away from the door.

For a moment, he thought of a humiliating scenario in his head where he bursts into the office and bows onto his knees as he loudly proclaimed his love for her so the entire Prophet building can hear like he saw those unrealistic romantic movies do but then he decided against it. He could not find the courage to do that; he barely had enough to have his relationship with Ginny be announced publically.

He glanced around at the area again for a second before he inhaled sharply and then disapparated from the spot.

He suppose he would have to wait until he got home to try again to fix things with Ginny and he is willing to do what he can to make sure everything between go back on track again. But a part of him cannot help but wonder how everything are going with Hermione with Ron and hoped that she is having a better luck in getting his forgiveness than he is.


A:N: Tension! Tension! Tension!

Occultae Veritatis: Hidden Truth

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