Voodoo Magic, task 4: Write about preventing something

Word Count: 1094

For my darling, my other half, my twin flame, Bex. Ily!

It takes Harry only a few seconds to suspect that something is going on. He sits up in bed, yawning as he puts on his glasses. Kingsley freezes, eyes wide like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car; he looks almost guilty as he buttons the final button of his shirt.

"You should be sleeping," Kingsley says. "It's early."

Harry's brows raise. Early. Maybe it is, but Kingsley has never complained before. "You're one to talk," he says. "Why are you going into work on a Sunday?"

"I'm Minister of Magic, love," Kingsley reminds him, guiding his tie along the collar of his shirt, nimble fingers working skillfully to tie it with ease. "I'm always working, even when I'm not."

It's true enough, but it doesn't feel right. Kingsley never goes into the Ministry on the weekend. If work ever spills over, he sits in the living room with Harry, going through paperwork as the two enjoy beer and pizza and talk about anything new and exciting in their lives.

"Gotta go," Kingsley says, moving to Harry's side of the bed and kissing him quickly on the cheek.

"I'll see you at lunch?" Harry asks hopefully.

"I don't think so. Lots to do."

And then, before Harry can protest, he is gone.

…

"There he is!" George calls brightly when Harry enters the joke shop. "The most radiant twenty-four year old I've ever seen!"

Harry's lips twitch in amusement. George, as always, is nothing short of dramatic. "You wanted to see me?"

"Everything okay, mate?" George asks, his expression faltering slightly. "All radiance aside, you look miserable."

Harry considers telling him about Kingsley's weird behavior that morning, about the suspicions in the back of his mind. He shakes his head, trying to force the thoughts away. They're still there, looming most beneath the surface, but he thinks he does a good job of putting on a brave face. "Fine," he says. "What's up?"

George studies him a moment longer before shrugging. "Right. So, if you don't mind, I have some boxes that need to be moved the Muggle way."

"The Muggle way?" Harry echoes incredulously.

"Right. They're too delicate to risk a charm," he explains.

Harry doesn't quite believe him. As long as he's known him, George has always been the type to throw caution to the wind. Still, there isn't really a point in arguing. With a shrug, he allows his friend to lead the way. "Ron still on paternity leave?" he asks; George nods.

Harry doesn't blame him. Ron is dedicated to the shop, but his family means the world to him. After Hugo's birth two weeks earlier, Ron has said he would get back to the shop as soon as possible, but George has insisted that he enjoy his time with his newborn son.

…

They've been at it for an hour when Harry finally feels something snap inside him. He sets the sealed box down, pausing to catch his breath and wipe the sweat from his brow. The misery sets in without warning; all it takes is just the briefest break from the task at hand, and his brain jumps into overdrive.

"I think Kingsley is cheating on me," Harry says.

The words catch George so off-guard that he nearly drops the box he's carrying. "Why the hell would you think that? Don't be daft."

Harry narrows his eyes, annoyed. He takes a deep breath and shakes his head. Of course George would think he's mistaken. He's only ever seen how happy Harry and Kingsley are together.

He resumes his work, grabbing another box as he tells George about the incident earlier that morning. Why had Kingsley looked so guilty when Harry caught him dressing? Why would he be at the Ministry today, when weekends have always been for them?

As he speaks, he finds himself getting more and more worked up. His blood feels heated, like it's boiling within his veins, and he can't control the way he begins to shake and tremble. The box falls from Harry's hands, its contents spilling onto the floor.

"Shit!"

But his panic eases away, replaced with confusion when he sees that there isn't anything fragile in the box at all. A few boxes of Patented Daydream Charms lay at his feet.

Slowly, the pieces fall into place. George never actually needed his help. He only needed Harry to distract him, to prevent him from something. But what? Had he known about Kingsley? Had Kingsley put him up to it?

"What's going on?" he asks, his voice quivering as hurt makes his voice soft and weak.

"Look, I need you to trust me," George says, offering him a crooked grin. "I just need to keep you here until lunch. Kingsley asked."

"You knew about this?" Harry stares at George, mouth slightly ajar. It doesn't make any sense.

George shakes his head. "It wasn't what you think. Kingsley would never cheat on you."

It's the smallest reassurance. Of course Harry is overreacting. He sighs, relaxing slightly. "Right. Do you actually need my help, or…?"

George offers him a grin that's almost apologetic. "Not really. I'm just in charge of keeping you away from your house for a bit."

…

By the time lunch comes around, Harry feels like he might come out of his skin. How is it possible for anyone to be this impatient? But it finally comes, and he Floos home, his heart fluttering when he sees his boyfriend.

Kingsley grins at him, gesturing to the small feast that has been set out on their dining room table: his favorite burgers and chips from a pub in Manchester, cheese pizza with extra cheese, cookies that look suspiciously like the ones Mrs. Weasley bakes for special occasions, and a chocolate cake. "Surprise."

"What's the special occasion?" Harry asks.

Kingsley shakes his head, amusement clear in his dark eyes. "It's your birthday…"

Harry blinks, trying to comprehend it. His… birthday.

His cheeks glow with embarrased heat. He had been so caught up in his own confusion that morning that he hadn't even noticed the day. How could he ever think that Kingsley was unfaithful?

"Was it really necessary to get George in on it too?"

Kingsley just chuckles. "And expect you to actually stay put somehow? Nah. I had to make sure you didn't spoil your surprise."

With a smile on his lips, Harry wraps his arms around Kingsley. "Thank you."

"You can thank me later. Picking up all this food has made me hungry," he says. "Let's eat."