The Unwanted Fiancé 2: Not Entirely Unwanted
Note: This chapter has been updated with an alternate ending.
Harry shuffled around awkwardly as he looked over the other guests at the ball. He'd already had a mini-confrontation with the hostess, who was surprised and a little upset that he'd arrived solo. His fiancée – that is, the woman who until an hour ago had been his fiancée – was a relative and the invitation had really been for her and a guest.
After the argument, Harry had come to the ball mostly out of inertia: his plans for the evening had involved showing up and mingling, and so once his brain was shut down from the argument and the let down, that's what he did.
Thinking of that, though, Harry needed to move away from the wall and mingle. He had been here only a few minutes but he'd wasted them. Even from where he stood near the wall, Harry saw a number of potential information sources. His work wasn't easy, exactly, but the doing part was easy compared to getting the information so he could approach people to get the contracts.
"Harry? Harry Potter?" He turned toward the smooth alto voice. "I thought I recognized you! That is, you look just like your most recent picture in the society pages of Witch Weekly."
The young woman stood tall in her heels, giving him an easy look into her startlingly green eyes. It took him a moment to notice the rest of her face, which formed a pretty frame for the wonder of her eyes. The hair, too, flowing dark chestnut, but those eyes…
She laughed merrily. "Yes, I know they're enchanting. No, in answer to your next question, it's not a charm. That's their real color. My eyes were always green, but over the past few years as I grew up both they and my hair darkened."
Em had been here only a few minutes but already she was pleased with how the evening was working out. The hostess had not hesitated in welcoming her to her first social outing. Her first ever. Given that her family was fairly well off and could claim pureblood status going back several centuries, she normally would have expected to have been introduced to society years ago. However, her family had acquired a bit of a bad odor – metaphorical, not actual; it was important to clarify that when magic was all around and could make the metaphorical turn real – and only now were she and her relatives beginning to be invited to any but family events.
And now, in the first ball she'd ever attended, she'd bumped into Harry Potter just minutes after she'd been introduced and then set free to mingle. She'd wanted to talk to him for years, sometimes to apologize for her and the others' behavior. Sometimes to try to kill him for his role in ruining her family years ago. Sometimes to simply stare into his bright green eyes. Her feelings depended on the phase of the moon. The back and forth was driving her crazy, but now at last she could do something about it.
And what she wanted to do was… grab onto him. Potter had certainly grown up well, tall and strong, wild black hair hinting at danger and promising an exciting loss of self-control, rimless glasses emphasizing his own enchanting green eyes.
Even if family honor required her to kill him, Em thought it wouldn't hurt anything if she put it off just a bit and spent some time with the eye candy. Except for one little thing.
"If it's not too forward of me, are you here alone or do I need to watch out for your fiancée? I've never met her myself, but the gossip is that she's not shy about throwing stingers at any witch who gets within ten feet of you."
"Ah, no," Harry said with a grimace. "No, I'm here by myself. And that was my previous fiancée who hexed everyone. And she's not my fiancée anymore. Neither one is, but I mean the most recent fiancée isn't." Not after he'd had the unmitigated gall to pick her up at her flat with a flower in his lapel but no flowers for her. Her screaming temper tantrum – there was no other word for it – concerning that and all of his endless list of thoughtless acts since they'd started dating was surely heard a block away. Harry was almost surprised that a special edition of Witch Weekly hadn't hit the streets by the time he got to the ball.
"Well, now, I sympathize with your poor fortune, of course, but perhaps we can make something of the evening after all. I'm here by myself, as well." 'By herself' except for her parents and aunt, but they didn't count. "Would you care to be my escort for the evening, Mr Potter?"
"How forward of you to ask me, Miss, er, I never did get your name."
"It wasn't set out to be gotten. But perhaps if the evening goes well?"
"I have to charm your name out of you? That's a new one. I'll just call you Miss Mysterious, how about that?"
The young woman smiled as she took his arm. "Oh, call me Em. All of my friends do."
Harry smiled, only his strength of mind allowing him to resist the allure of those wonderful eyes. "And you can call me Harry, but you knew that, M. Short for Mysterious, of course, but I wonder what it really stands for. Marigold? No. Margaret? No, definitely not. Margarita? No, you don't look Spanish."
"Just M. I'll tell you my whole name later, perhaps, unless you figure it out first."
Harry escorted M to the refreshments table, where she took a small plate of finger foods and a non-alcoholic drink.
"Truthfully, I'm having enough trouble walking in these heels with a clear head. I hope you're not hoping for any fast waltzing, either."
"What about slow dancing, if I promise to hold you close?"
"How forward of you to ask me, Mr Potter!" M gasped in mock shock. But then she smiled and stepped closer. "Perhaps if the evening goes well."
Agh! What was wrong with her? Em was pretty enough to have gotten some male attention at school despite the disgrace the others – and, to be honest, she herself – had brought onto her family name, so why was she acting like no one had ever flirted with her before? And it was Potter! He'd ruined her family and she hated him, no matter how nice he looked, standing there with a half smile and his head cocked to the side.
Harry was surprised at himself as his mouth ran almost on autopilot with little jokes and compliments. He'd had two fiancées and a few other serious girlfriends but he'd never been a ladies' man. He'd certainly never been a charmer – just ask anyone who'd ever met him. And he'd just been broken up with and he should be, well, broken up over that. Honestly, though, he'd been getting tired of her temper. Really, what was with him and being attracted to bad-tempered women who started screaming at him over nothing? He must be doing something wrong in picking girlfriends. He had thought that maybe an engagement ring would calm that down, make her feel more secure, but it hadn't worked out.
Say, he needed to get the ring back. He wasn't poor but he wasn't made of money, not yet, and she was the one who had called it off.
After they'd eaten their refreshments and flirted a little more, Harry noticed that the band had struck up a stately waltz suitable for a partner who was not confident in her footwear.
"Miss Mysteriously Music-Minded M, would you care to dance?"
Once M was a little more sure on her feet a few dances later, Harry brought up something he'd been wondering about for the past hour. "Say, M, do we know each other? When you first spoke to me, it sounded like you were greeting a friend you hadn't seen in a long time. But I don't think I know you. I'm sure I'd remember your face."
"Oh! You don't remember me at all! After all the times you held me in your arms!"
"Er…"
M laughed. "I'll give you a little hint: we did meet before, a few years ago."
"A few years? You'd still have been in Hogwarts a few years ago, wouldn't you? Were we in school together? How old are you, exactly?"
"Ah-ah-ah! No more hints! And it's never polite to ask a witch that question, either. How do you think you can make it up to me, both the forgetting and the terribly rude question?"
"I don't suppose a kiss would do the trick?"
"It might… if you didn't already owe me from before."
Harry was stumped. He had promised her a kiss? A few years ago? That didn't sound right. A few years ago M would have been a teenager. No, she was almost certainly a teen now. A few years ago she'd have been in her mid-teens. Even an early teen, if she was younger than she looked now and this was her introduction to society at sixteen or so. Harry couldn't imagine that he'd have knowingly promised an early teen a kiss when he was past twenty. Nor would the promise have been the result of a bet. He never made bets except for small amounts of cash with friends. He'd never in his life made a bet like "if you win, I'll do anything you tell me to do". He'd never even played Truth or Dare. He'd been about to, one time, but that had been interrupted by the noodle incident and the less said about that, the better.
Once again Em's merry laugh grabbed his attention. "Don't strain yourself, Harry. But don't ask for hints, either. I'm enjoying myself, watching you torture yourself trying to remember where you've met me."
Em had enjoyed the evening. She shouldn't have, she told herself repeatedly, because it was Potter. No matter how gorgeous he looked, he'd pranked her whole family for no reason than for a laugh. Though her family had certainly stepped into the prank with great enthusiasm.
But that didn't matter! If not for him, she wouldn't have been shamed for the past seven years and she'd still have her sister and cousin and grandmother, and her family deserved vengeance! No matter how comfortable she had felt dancing in his arms, when she'd forgotten to remember her grudge against him.
Em's conflicted musing was interrupted when her aunt tapped her on the shoulder in mid-spin.
"There you are! Your parents and I have been looking for you for the past half hour. The way we saw you acting with this Casanova earlier this evening, we had been checking dark corners of the garden and even the broom closet in the house. Now come along. Your parents are going home and you are clearly too young and irresponsible to be left alone here."
"Too young! I'm ei—" Em snapped her jaw shut as she glanced at her dance partner. She then gave up the argument. It wasn't worth it, she'd inevitably lose, and her aunt might let slip any number of things that Em was keeping to herself for now.
To show that she wasn't totally cowed, though, she asked Harry, "Escort me to the floo, Mr Potter? I've recently been informed that I'm too young to go anywhere by myself."
Harry thought that the walk to the fireplace in the other room, with farewells to the disapproving hostess, would have been more pleasant without the disapproving aunt but it wasn't all bad. M was a pretty girl even when he couldn't see her eyes. And she was hugging his upper arm to her torso quite firmly. There were worse ways to end an evening. Worse ways like having the police come to the scene of the disturbance when he took a pureblood girlfriend to a movie, but it was better not to think about that one.
Harry pulled loose from M's grip when they neared a couple who must be her parents. He turned to say goodnight, only to find her inches away, arms reaching up to lace around his neck.
"If it isn't too forward for me to suggest, Mr Potter, a goodbye kiss would seem to be called for."
Harry obligingly leaned down, but kept it to a decorous peck on the cheek because of the watching parents.
"I suppose that will have to do," M whispered to him, "as it was my first, but I hope for more in future kisses. By my count, you owe me at least a dozen more. No no, don't ask why. My parents are waiting. You'll have to charm the story out of me some other time."
Harry watched, bemused, as M's parents hustled her into the floo, shooting him displeased glances when her back was turned. Her aunt didn't bother to wait for her to turn her back.
...ooo000ooo...
The next day found Harry floo-calling the previous evening's hostess at the earliest polite hour. Thanks to the difference in the daily schedules of the elegant class and the working class, he had time take care of a job. And to think about the mysterious Miss M and her enchanting eyes. And her sparkling wit; he wasn't shallow enough to lose his head over nothing more than a pretty face.
"Good morning, Madam Long. I wonder if you could do me a favor."
Talking the witch into contacting M on his behalf was quite a lot of work. She'd spoken to Harry's former fiancée and gotten the story about the breakup. One side of the story, of course, but that was enough for her. And even if she weren't related to the jilted witch, it was unseemly for him to be trying to pick up a new girl immediately afterward.
Luckily, Harry had a bit of a reputation. He'd earned it first by dealing with that mess with Voldemort, which got him gratitude from most of the magical world. And it got him murder attempts by a small part of the world, but he dealt with them as they came up.
More recently, he'd been earning a reputation of another sort, as a specialist who dealt with problems which others could not.
Harry's reputation was now sufficient for people to come to him with their problems. They came to him secretively and with great care, but they came to him.
"Perhaps we can come to an arrangement, Mr Potter. I have recently been made aware of a minor difficulty which would cause no end of embarrassment if it were to be made public."
"Do continue, Madam."
"I'm now speaking to you in your role as The Exterminator, of course."
"Of course, Madam."
By the time he pulled his head from the floo, Harry had a promise that a bouquet and card would be delivered to M immediately after he discretely took care of a pest for the woman's friend. He wouldn't be getting paid for the work but it would be worth it.
...ooo000ooo...
Harry met M at Flourish and Blotts. She'd owled him a message suggesting a time and place, drawing little smiley faces instead of dots over each of the "i"s. Harry wasn't quite sure what that meant, but it was probably almost as good as hearts, in a letter agreeing to a date.
Em had been delighted to receive the note and flowers. On the one hand, she couldn't set a herd of angry unicorns after Potter if she didn't know how to reach him. And her mother and aunt had been very clear the other night after they flooed home that she was to have nothing to do with him.
On the other hand… On the other hand, while they were dancing she hadn't thought even once about ways to kill him. She'd luxuriated in the moment, the comfort of Harry's arms, not having to worry about balance on those heels, not having to think about long-held grudges, not thinking about anything but keeping up the banter. It had been so nice, being free of the constant worries and doubts. She could get used to that.
Defying her parents and aunt was just a bonus. Didn't they realize that the family's shame was only a tiny bit Harry's doing? He'd almost been as much of a victim of that mess as Em herself, and she'd only been a child at the time. How could they blame him?
Here, today, she was meeting Harry at the bookshop because she needed to look for books for work. Never mind that it was supposed to be her one day off. Her uncle and aunt insisted that thinking about the job all the time was the only way to get ahead.
"M!" Harry strode purposefully to intercept his date, not hurrying because he didn't want to look desperate, but he was very, very happy to see her. By now he was familiar with the temporary insanity which came with starting a new romance. He knew how to deal with it and how to avoid getting totally stupid. But still, he was very happy to see her.
M seemed just as happy as he, judging by the wide smile and quick steps toward him before she got it under control.
Small talk and compliments out of the way, Em took Harry's arm as they entered the shop. "I need one particular book and besides that would like to browse for whatever catches my eye." Em wasn't like the Ravenclaws in school, reading and even memorizing books simply for the joy of learning everything they could. She read widely but always with an eye to utility. A book on household charms, despite their simplicity, could get her through the day's chores more quickly. A history book could give a clue to a long-standing antipathy between families.
"What do you need? I can help you find it before we browse." Harry thought he'd see if Flourish and Blotts had any books on business and investing, with information specifically useful to the magical world. He'd been getting his business books from the normal world but it didn't hurt to look as long as he was here. He also wanted to pick up a few other books for research.
"I need a book on keeping the books of a family business. My uncle says that it was just published. Before, every shop owner had to learn from his parents or figure it out on his own, or else pay someone to do it. I'm supposed to take over the business and can't get out of it, so I have to start learning and have to work all the time."
That came out in a rush driven by pent-up resentment. Em hadn't yet decided on what she wanted to do with her life when the decision was taken away from her a year ago. One thing she did know was that running the family store had not been on the list.
Still, family was family, and the shop had been in the family for generations, and her aunt and uncle weren't that old but they weren't young, either, and there was no one else who could take it over.
For the past year Em had been hinting to her mother that she wouldn't mind getting a younger brother or sister, but no luck so far. Same with her aunt.
Harry caught the meaning in the tone of her voice. "Family pressure? Responsibility for something you didn't have anything to do with? And you feel obligated to do it even though you don't want to and you aren't sure if you'll get anything out of it? And people get angry at you if you don't act like you're grateful to do what they're dumping on you?" He nodded sympathetically. "I know what it's like." Did he ever!
Em's temper flared. How dare he think he knew what she was going through? But then it subsided just as quickly. The whole world knew his story. If anyone could understand, it would be Harry.
Em regretted her earlier venting as a lapse in self control, but it wasn't all bad. She'd let him know that she wasn't just another fluff-headed teen witch with nothing on her mind other than fashion and weddings. She'd let him know that she had good prospects and would bring something to the marr—
With a choke, Em stopped that train of thought. Even if Potter hadn't played a large role in ruining her family's reputation, it was much too early to be thinking of marrying him. She blamed that unnamed ministry clerk and his inability to read and all the trouble he had caused for putting the idea in her head.
"Come, then, Mr Potter, and let us be about our business."
Harry snorted as he followed her. "Why so old-fashioned and formal, Miss Mysterious? Did you think you'd fallen into the historical novels section?"
M paused and then laughed. "No, but my family is rather old-fashioned and I was just thinking of a lecture they gave me."
"A lecture? On anything good? Like on the best way to deal with those upstart colonials in the Americas?"
Em smiled. "Nothing quite so out of date. No, they were warning me to have nothing to do with you. You may have noticed how much I took it to heart."
M found her bookkeeping book and Harry picked out the one money management book which didn't boil down to "spend less than you earn" and "discreet payments to Ministry officials can earn you more than you paid".
"Let's find some autobiographies next," he suggested. "I need to get a few for research."
"Research? Every one that I've read was nonsense. What could you possibly learn by researching them?"
"I'm thinking of writing one myself. Nonsense or not, some of them sell well."
Harry wasn't poor, exactly, but he was always on the lookout for more income and for ways to avoid spending what he had. He had a bit left in the vault he'd received as a child and had inherited a bit from Sirius. His current occupation paid well even if contracts came only sporadically. However, though he wasn't poor, he hadn't earned enough to get into the Potter vault.
One of the ways the Potter family had avoided falling to thriftlessness or dissolution had been by requiring would-be heirs to become established before gaining access to the family wealth. "Established", for this purpose, meant a career, honestly earned wealth, and a spouse. Consequently, Harry lived on a tight budget and saved most of his income so that he could earn his way to much greater wealth. This also was the driving reason that he was steadily looking for a wife rather than dating casually and thinking about maybe getting married sometime when he was older.
Many Potters never did qualify for vault access. Harry had matched up the list of Potter births to the list of those who'd gained access and found that barely over half managed it. His own father hadn't made it, though he had put fighting a war over becoming wealthy and then, of course, he'd been killed while still young.
Though it was an inconvenience to him, he saw the wisdom of the Potter family policy. Just look at the Blacks. Word was that they'd been monstrously wealthy a few centuries ago. That had been squandered by inbred family members who spent buckets on luxuries, vanity projects, and dark lords, with never a thought for increasing the family wealth nor even for preserving it. With the death of all of the other Blacks, Harry and Tonks had inherited a few thousand Galleons, an unlivable house that neither wanted, and an ancient house-elf that neither wanted, the pathetic remains of a vast fortune.
(Amazing, green) eyes bright with interest, M helped Harry by getting a clerk's attention and having him pick out the autobiographies which sold the best.
As they paid for their purchases, Em saw Harry's head turn when he was hailed. "What are you doing here, Harry? I don't recall you ever buying a book except as required for school."
Em didn't recognize Granger until Harry answered, "Stranger things have happened, Hermione. What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be working on your perfectly ordinary, boring, all-consuming, desk job?"
"Those of us with perfectly routine jobs have these things called lunch breaks, a concept which is no doubt lost on layabouts and odd-jobs men."
"Better an odd-jobs man than a jobsworth."
"Ooh, nice! Point to you, Harry."
"You wouldn't believe how long I've been saving that so I could use it on you."
Granger laughed. "I would. It's been too long, Harry. We need to catch up sometime." Her eyes drifted Em's way and lingered for a moment. "Aren't you going to introduce me to your friend?"
"Right. M, this is Hermione Granger, my best friend from Hogwarts. Hermione, this is the Mysterious Miss M, my date. We met a few nights ago."
Granger looked at Em again, longer this time. "You're going by Em now? I'll keep that in mind."
"Oh, you know each other? And her name isn't Em, I've just been calling her Miss M, for Mysterious, because she won't tell me her real name."
Granger stared at Harry for several heartbeats, jaw working soundlessly. "Right. Of course. I'll leave you to that, then."
Em had been afraid that Granger would spoil her running joke, but that had worked out as well as could be hoped. She found it funny that Granger had recognized her immediately, whereas Harry still hadn't caught on after they'd been together for hours at the ball and another hour today. Of course, he'd first seen her in a fancy gown with a neckline that was a few inches lower than conservative, so the scrawny little girl was the farthest thing from his mind. And he spent a lot of time staring into her eyes with his brain shut off… something Em understood perfectly, as she realized with a start that they had been staring at each other with silly smiles on their faces for some unknown length of time.
Deciding to catch a late lunch, the couple strolled into a small restaurant. Harry offered to pay, which Em appreciated. She wasn't poor, exactly, and she expected to inherit the business where she now worked, sometime in the distant future, but her parents insisted on her learning the value of a sickle by earning her own way. She still lived at the family home for a nominal rental payment, which helped greatly, but she was still adjusting to how far a shop clerk's wages didn't go.
"Harry? How're ya doing, mate?" Em frowned momentarily at the third interruption of their meal. People had greeted him every few seconds as they walked along Diagon Alley, but Harry had just waved and kept walking and told her that he didn't even know most of them. That was bad enough. What was worse was that people bothered him while he was eating lunch, especially when he was eating with a pretty, young witch, whom any normal witch, wizard, or creature would realize he was having a lunch date with. That was the peril of dating a world-saving hero, Em supposed. Odd that it had never occurred to her before it was rubbed in her face.
"Hello, Ron. M, this is my friend Ron from school. Ron, this is M. We met at a dance and now we're out for the day. Ah, Ron, I'd appreciate it if you didn't stare at my date quite so intently."
"Uh, what? Oh, right, sorry, mate. Sorry, Em. It's just that you look familiar and I can't think of where."
"Harry and I did meet some years ago, though he doesn't remember. You might have seen me here and there. I've been around Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade most of my life. I recognize you, of course, from the photos and write-up in the Prophet about two years ago."
Harry winced. He couldn't blame M for bringing that up, because that scandal was how Ron's name had come to the world's attention, finally bringing him the fame he'd wanted for his whole life if not quite in the way he'd wanted, but he wished that she hadn't said anything.
Em was enjoying this game. How to Mislead Friends and Influence People, all without telling a single lie.
Thankfully for the sake of her date, her remark caused Ron to shuffle off to order his lunch and she and Harry were able to finish their lunch in peace.
Harry and M wandered Diagon and Knockturn Alleys a while longer before she asked if they could stop.
"My feet are killing me. I chose these shoes because they go with these robes rather than for comfort."
"Would you like me to carry you to the apparition point or floo, Miss M?"
"How gallant of you, Mr Potter! Your reputation for rescuing fair maidens was well earned, I see. But no, thank you. Reserve your heroism for maidens in mortal peril, not maidens who don't think before setting out for the day."
Harry didn't mind ending the date in mid-afternoon. He was going to be up all night on a job and he should get a little sleep before heading out.
A kiss would have been nice but, "I hope you're not too disappointed but I'd rather save those for when we know each other better. Or for when you remember where we met before and why you owe me kisses."
"What about the other night?"
"Ah, well, my aunt had annoyed me in trying to keep us apart and I have a teeny bit of a temper."
As she tumbled home from her date, Em realized with a start that she'd spent four hours with Potter and hadn't thought once of killing him.
...ooo000ooo...
A warm afternoon a week later saw Harry and M on their third date, this time walking up a mountain trail with Harry trying to guess her name whenever he saw a thing starting with 'M'. So far, her name wasn't Mountain, Mushroom, Mulberry, Mosquito, or Maple. He hadn't guessed her name yet but he'd learned that she didn't take herself too seriously. She'd even volunteered that her name wasn't Mouse, either.
They had met up a few days before, mainly to buy M clothing suitable for hiking a rough trail. Harry had been pleased to see that she took his advice on practicality over fashion. He'd been more pleased to see that she didn't expect him to buy her an entire wardrobe on their second date; many witches thought that as the sole member of an old family he must have more money than he knew what to do with. Thus, a small test before things got too serious.
Some advice Harry had gotten after his first engagement had publicly blown up was to arrange a wide variety of dates in order to see how well he and a girlfriend got along. A few semi-formal balls, or a few dinner-and-a-movies for the muggleborn, didn't tell you much about each other.
Add on a policy which he had figured out on his own: have things go wrong so he could see how she handled stress. True, this was nothing Harry had ever set up on purpose. Things just went wrong on their own. Like that one time when he and a date had apparated into an alley which was burning because some football hooligans were celebrating or because their team had lost. It didn't much matter. What did matter was that Harry's date had been in hysterics over smoke smell getting in her hair and clothes, never mind that Harry was on fire because he'd taken care of her first, shielding her and getting her to safety. He knew how to handle a situation like that: take her home, leave immediately, and tear up her floo address.
The point being, Harry's life seemed to attract chaos. He couldn't be with anyone who couldn't handle it.
Today, though, there was none of that. No football hooligans, no angry girlfriend starting a fistfight with another witch who'd innocently jostled her, no drunken girlfriend who'd declared that it was too hot and sunny to be wearing clothes. That last one would have been fine with Harry if she hadn't done it on a tour boat carrying a dozen other passengers. No, none of that. Just a smiling young lady who didn't mind him sneaking peeks at her bottom in her new blue jeans – snug, new blue jeans – except that she kept lagging behind so she could look at him in his jeans. Fair's fair; he couldn't honestly object.
Em was glad to spend time with Harry again. She would have been working today but she'd gotten her uncle to give her an extra half day off. Her aunt and parents still vehemently opposed her having any relationship with "that damned Potter menace" but her uncle acknowledged that Harry had had barely anything to do with the mess. He might not be ready to welcome Harry into the family but he had noticed that Em didn't have a line of suitors pounding down her door. Certainly no other suitors who'd single-handedly ended the threat of a dark lord. He also realized that Em had had ambitions for her life other than running a small shop, and that letting her have this was the least they could do in response to her sacrifice. Bottom line, he supported her against the rest of the family and let her have a few hours off specifically for dating.
Harry was glad to spend time with M again. She was usually cheerful, with a few dips into annoyance to show that the cheerfulness wasn't totally fake. Today she was chatty and enthusiastic about the novel experience of walking to get somewhere. M had loved the view whenever the ground fell away enough to see anything besides the trees around them. It was funny, Harry thought, because any witch or wizard could get a better view by taking a broom up a few hundred feet. Maybe it was the knowledge that she'd gotten up here by her own exertions, or even the exertion itself. Few magicals did any more physical effort than they could avoid. Harry knew, even if they didn't, that getting up and moving around could lift up one's mood.
Um. Could that be why dancing was so popular with witches and wizards? Could that be why so many relationships started at dances?
As Em eased onto a rocky finger sticking out over a drop, she wondered if she was strong enough to shove Potter off the edge and whether the fall would be enough to kill a wizard. Probably not but it should stun him long enough for her to get her wand out of her backpack and finish the job. She'd have to be very fast and very sure in what she did. Her mother had relayed a bit of news. No, not news, exactly. It was more of a rumor whispered between those who needed to know. Potter was a killer. Everyone knew that, from when he killed all the Death Eaters and the dark lord. The whispered part was that he hadn't stopped, but instead did jobs for people who needed it.
Clearly he was very dangerous, a threat to public order as well as an ongoing insult to her family.
Em was anything but a skilled fighter, but she was clever and sneaky. She could do this.
She'd have to wait until no other hikers could witness the act. Maybe she could keep him here long enough for all of the other hikers to get out of sight. As she glanced back and forth she saw Harry bending over to retie his boot and all murder plans drooled out of her head.
"Come on, M, it's not much farther to the top, which has a better view." Harry held her hand to help her along, claiming that she looked tired.
She was tired, physically, from the walking and climbing. She was very tired, mentally. The back and forth inside her head had worn her out.
At the peak, M gasped with delight and rushed up to the safety rail to get a better view. Harry smiled and pulled both magical (for moving pictures) and ordinary (for color pictures) cameras out of his pack and snapped several shots with each.
"One more picture, Harry! See if you can get my hair flying!"
Harry obligingly held up the magical camera as M leaned against the safety rail and twisted her torso to make her hair fling out. Just as he clicked the trigger, the railing gave way. M's eyes widened before she fell backward off the ledge.
Quicker than thought, Harry apparated ten feet forward. "Accio M!" She popped back up the small cliff face and landed in Harry's arms. As he stared into her green eyes, Harry was hit by a massive case of déjà vu.
Em was surprised to find herself falling backward through the air.
She was shocked when she was jerked upward, saving her from certain doom.
And she was utterly dumbfounded to once again find herself cradled in Harry Potter's arms, green eyes open wide.
"Emma?" she heard him ask, not sure of himself.
"My hero!" Em exclaimed, wrapping her arms around his neck and claiming a kiss. She was trembling from the fright, but he had owed her a kiss for seven years from almost this exact situation and he wasn't escaping this time!
Harry's brain was fizzing. Not from Emma's kiss – her technique was lacking, though her enthusiasm could not be faulted – but from the shocking revelation. M, his potential girlfriend, was Emma Snyder, the cute firstie who alternated between clumsily trying to kill him and shakily snuggling into his arms after he had to rescue her? The bad-tempered redhead who broke into a screaming, kicking fit every other day? That Emma?
Other hikers on the scenic ledge were clustering around. "… OK?" "… seen anyone move that fast!" "… can't believe you were able to catch her!" "… need help? Does anyone have a cell signal?"
Harry held Emma – Em, as she told him she now went by, and he felt stupid because she'd told him her name from the beginning – until she had stopped trembling and then they began the walk back down. As soon as they were out of everyone's sight, of course, he apparated them to his car at the bottom.
"Good job on pranking me with your name. Congratulations, Miss Mysterious."
"You're not angry? I'm glad. I didn't start out intending a prank, but when you didn't recognize me and then when you misunderstood my name, I couldn't resist."
"Yes, well done. So. Er. You're eighteen. Maybe seventeen."
"Eighteen. My birthday is in July."
"And I'm twenty-four."
"Yes. Thank you for confirming that. I knew that seven years ago you were six years older than I but didn't know if that was still the case."
Harry rolled his eyes. "The point being, I'm a lot older than you. Although twenty-four to eighteen isn't as bad as seventeen to eleven. But the point is, I'm a lot older. But I've had fun with you on our dates. And I like you. And you're pretty. Do you mind if I take back what I said back in Hogwarts, that I'd never date you?"
Em smiled and held Harry's hand as he drove. "I would be most distressed if you didn't."
The serious parts of the conversation would have to wait because they had driven close enough for Em to apparate home and then to work. She couldn't abuse the extra time off she was given if she wanted to get more of it. She did take the time for a firm good-bye kiss, though.
Harry drove the car back to the rental lot with his mind spinning in circles.
...ooo000ooo...
Harry met up with Hermione and Ron the following evening, the soonest that they could all find the time.
"So, er, I don't know how to tell you this but you know that girl you saw me with last week? Er, it turns out that she's, er, she's…"
"She's Emma Snyder, Harry," Hermione said, with obligatory eye roll.
Harry was taken aback. Had Emma previously contacted them as part of a prank on him? Well done, Miss Slytherin! Or not, as Ron's next words confirmed.
"We figured it out as soon as we saw her, mate."
"'We', Ronald?"
"Well, of course. We're together, aren't we? That means that anything you figure out, we've figured out."
Harry sighed, signalled for another round of drinks, and ignored the ensuing squabble. This had come up before, with Ron seeming to think that he and Hermione were in a relationship and Hermione being quite certain that they were not.
Once the squabble had petered out and the drinks had been drunk, Hermione had to vent a bit.
"Don't you think you've moved on rather quickly, Harry? You started dating Emma Snyder immediately after breaking up with your fianceé. Your latest fianceé."
"She's right. I saw a big article in Witch Weekly all about why she broke up with you. You didn't come off too well, mate."
Harry grimaced at the reminder of the quality of the magical world's notion of journalism. Of course there was an article slamming him and of course they didn't bother to even try to interview him. But wait—
"You read an article, Ronald?" Hermione's eyes glinted with malicious delight. "In Witch Weekly, of all places?"
"Ah, uh, someone left it in the shop and, uh, research! Right, it was research, finding out what the customers want."
Harry couldn't let Hermione have all the fun. "I thought you still worked in the quidditch shop, Ron. Those aren't the broomsticks Witch Weekly's readers are interested in."
"Well, I…"
Hermione ignored Ron, smacked Harry in the shoulder, and relentlessly continued her interrogation of the latter. "Wouldn't decorum call for at least a slight break before picking up another girl?"
"She picked me up, Hermione. She moved in on me when I was heartbroken and vulnerable. I'm the victim here, Hermione." His friends stared at him, shocked into speechlessness. "Not buying it?"
"That is, without a doubt, the biggest load of garbage I have ever heard."
"You're talking pure shite there, mate."
They all stared at each other another for a moment before laughing.
"Well, it was worth a try." Harry then repeated for his friends what he'd worked out, about his lack of grief over having been dumped, the night he'd met Em. Or Emma. He hadn't yet put together the woman and the girl inside his head.
After the other two tormented him a bit more about his judgment in picking girlfriends – what are friends for? – Harry brought up something that had been bothering him.
"I don't understand why I didn't recognize her. And why you did, right away."
"She's a pretty girl and she was wearing flattering robes. That's all the explanation needed for why you two, young men, were not thinking clearly and why I, a woman, was."
Harry smiled as he thought of Em in the robes she'd worn on their first date. Of Em in snug jeans. Of Em dressed for dancing at a ball. Of Em—
Hermione gave Harry a shove to knock him out of his happy place.
"Honestly, Harry, sometimes you make it so difficult to remember that you are not at all dim."
"Yah, mate. Sometimes you're all like duh."
Harry and Hermione both looked at Ron.
"What? I heard some muggle teenagers saying that. I can say it, too, you know. I'm cool, too. Mum told me!"
Harry face-palmed and walked out of the Muggle bar before apparating home, leaving in the middle of Hermione's explanation of just why having to have your mother tell you that you were cool was practically the textbook definition of not being cool.
Harry didn't worry about that. He didn't worry about Em. Emma. Talking it out with his friends had helped him get his head together about the homicidal peewee and the cheerful, pretty witch, and what he wanted to do with her— Not that. Well, yes, that, but more than that. What he meant was, talking it out with Ron and Hermione helped him to figure things out, even though they didn't offer any useful advice. That was the mark of true friendship.
Harry wrote out a note for Em, asking her out to lunch and a walk around Hogsmeade, and prepared it for Hedwig to carry. Then he caught himself up short. He'd forgotten to ask his owl what she thought of Em. That wouldn't do.
...ooo000ooo...
Em met Harry at The Leaky Cauldron, as arranged by notes carried by his owl. He couldn't pick her up at home because of her family's not totally unreasonable objection to his dating her, and to his existence, and she was wary of meeting a man at his own home, even if being seduced into a sleepless night was beginning to sound like a wonderful idea. Make that, especially if.
Harry had suggested spending time in Hogsmeade today but Em had preferred London. Partly this was to broaden her horizons, partly to prove to herself that she'd overcome the prejudice she'd been raised with, and partly to look for business opportunities. If she was going to be stuck with the business, she was going to do her best to increase and improve it.
Harry greeted her with a smile and a kiss and then a yawn. "Oops. Sorry. I was up all night on a job. Emergency, just came up late in the evening and I couldn't afford not to take it."
Em's eyes popped open. Surely he wasn't admitting— "Is it the best idea to be talking about your work here in public?"
"I don't see why not. So long as I keep my client list private, to protect their reputations, I don't see a problem. It's not like I'm doing anything dishonest."
"Not disho—?! Aren't you the—" Em broke off and looked around furtively before continuing in a quieter voice. "The Exterminator?"
"Yes. I don't call myself that, mind you. Some clients called me that and it stuck. I charge more but I take care of problems no one else can, and when I fix them, they stay fixed."
"Yes! That's what I was talking about!" Em hissed.
"I don't understand why you think it's a problem. I do my business, I keep quiet about it, the client keeps quiet, and everything is fine."
"Do you expect me to believe that the ministry just looks the other way while you… go about your business?"
"Ah, yes? Em, just what is it you think I do?"
"You're the Exterminator! You kill people! Lots of people!"
"Oh. Um. Yah, I can see where you could get that idea. It's completely wrong, though."
"What?"
"I'm a creature exterminator, Em. Not only killing them; I do pest removal and control in general. Even capture and turning them over to breeders."
That last part was at Luna's insistence. Harry had discovered by accident that he could talk to magical creatures and give them orders. He'd stumbled into extermination as a paying career two years ago when he went to pick up a date at her family home, only to find that she wasn't ready because a nest of doxies had been stirred up and the family were all under attack. Harry shouted at the pests to leave the house, was surprised when they obeyed, and overcame his surprise in time to burn them all out in the open air. The rest, as they say, was history.
When Luna first learned that Harry could speak to any magical creature she was envious. When she learned that he could command them, she was disturbed. When she learned that he was using that ability to more efficiently kill pests, she was horrified. "You must find a better use for your power, Harry Potter. With great power comes great responsibility."
Harry was distracted by the finger which was waving in his face and by the squishy flesh pressing against him because she had stepped right up to him – when had Luna filled out like that? – and so he didn't notice the ridiculousness of her assertion. Too bad for him, by the time he was thinking clearly, he had promised to "rescue" or "rehome" pest creatures if at all possible.
Come to think of it, that probably hadn't helped his reputation any. The legitimate market for captured lethifolds and garden gnomes was very small and tended to involve rendering into potions ingredients. Not quite what he'd promised under the influence of boob fugue. He had to find another option.
The other option was literally rehoming the pests. In others' homes. One good thing about being Harry Potter was that, just as he had thousands of fans talking to him whenever he went out, he had dozens or hundreds of bitter enemies who'd attack him if they dared whenever he went out. And many of these enemies owned houses. And Harry knew where these houses were. And Harry could get past their protections, thanks in part to some of the exterminations he was called on to do.
It's not like Harry was an unethical businessman, profiting off of clients' woes which he himself had caused. It's not like he would place magical pests in a house and then remove them for a fee. No, Harry refused to provide his services to the widows of Death Eaters. If half of her manor house had to be demolished and rebuilt to get rid of its acidmite infestation, well, that was hardly Harry's problem.
The rest, as they say, was history. Harry had a career which would likely provide him with work and income as long as he wanted it. His work gave him access to many homes which he might need to return to for other reasons. The income wouldn't make him a rich man but it didn't need to. The income would make him a well-off man and that was enough to meet the family requirements.
The only problem was that some potential girlfriends' parents rejected him out of hand. "Such a common occupation. We can't have you being seen with a common tradesman!"
Harry didn't think that that would be a problem for Emma. Her parents had rejected him for other reasons and she'd rejected their rejection. Still, he watched her face carefully as she thought through his revelation.
"Oh, my magic! Do you mean to tell me that I've been tiptoeing around you for the past month for no reason?"
"I didn't realize you were tiptoeing. I thought you were being pleasant and agreeable because we're in a new relationship. It's perfectly normal."
"You'd know more about that than I. I've never dated before thanks to the family problems I've hinted at before. I've been careful not to offend you, lest I be exterminated."
"Well, that's just silly. Aside from you misunderstanding my job, your eyes are much too wonderful to exterminate."
"What?! What does that have to do with anything?"
"Er, nothing. I was just trying to compliment you."
Em had to laugh. "That was pathetic! I heard smoother lines when I was in school. As a Third Year!"
Still laughing, Em re-took Harry's arm and they continued their stroll, just taking in the sites and waving at the hundred people who greeted them. She didn't exactly welcome the attention but she was getting used to it.
Their date had to end earlier than either would prefer because Em had to go to work to receive and unpack a large delivery. As they walked back toward the Leaky Cauldron Harry raised the question.
"Emma, why are you inheriting the family business? Wouldn't it normally go to the oldest? Or to the one who wanted it the most, but you're the youngest and told me a lot of times that you don't want it."
"Ah, well, we don't have a choice. I'm the only one left."
"What? What happened? All the Death Eaters are dead."
"Catherine had a broom accident three years ago. She tried out for a spot on a professional quidditch team. It was her first time on a performance broom and she couldn't control it."
Harry hid a wince. If she'd made it onto the Gryffindor team back in school she'd have started on an old Nimbus 2000 with plenty of supervision for the first few hours. The pro teams would have expected everyone at the tryouts to be experienced and skilled and would have just sat them on top-end brooms and sent them up to show what they could do.
It hadn't been Harry's decision not to put her on the team but, because he'd been offered the team captaincy before giving it up to Ron, he might bear some of the blame.
"Anne died in the shop. They'd had an infestation of some kind of magical pest. They had called an exterminator but he didn't come and then Anne died of it."
Harry couldn't hide the wince this time. He could piece together what had led to Anne's death.
Psymice were much like ordinary mice although almost impossible to catch by a predator with a mind. They weren't dangerous one at a time but a large nest caused hallucinations in magical humans, which could lead to dangerous accidents.
A year ago, Anne Snyder had arranged for him to clear the shop of a suspected infestation, before he was well-established in his new career and before his real name was known to be connected to the Exterminator name which status-conscious families were embarrassed to admit to needing.
Harry had arrived at the shop at the agreed-upon time, after normal business hours so that no customers would be around while an exterminator did his business. Anne had been the only Snyder working that evening. She'd taken one look at him and started yelling, ordering him out without letting him get a word in. He'd never heard anything more about that job and had put it out of his mind beyond some minor regrets for the loss of a paying contract when he needed the work.
He wasn't sure how much guilt to feel about all that. He would have been able to take care of the problem and prevented Anne from being killed. But it was her own bad temper which had led to her death.
"What about the other one, ah, the Hufflepuff, ah…?" he asked, to avoid thinking about that.
"Fanny. My oldest cousin. She's, she's… There was a problem. After that whole marriage contract mess she ended up briefly engaged to, ah…"
"Harvey. Harvey Polter. No relation to me, it was just a coincidence that our names are almost the same and he's only a couple of months younger."
"Right. Him. He rejected her publicly. He said her morals made her unfit for marriage into his family. He could just as well have called her a prostitute or a swindler. And the same for the rest of us. That finished the job of ruining the family's reputation and then Fanny just stayed in her room and cried. She was wasting away. My uncle and aunt finally had her given Draught of Living Death in hopes that in a few months she'd be able to recover. But something was wrong with the batch and now she can't be woken."
It all was a life-changing problem. Em didn't really blame her cousin, but if Fanny had been able to pull herself together and come out of her room then she could have been trained to take over the business and leave Em to research or explore or whatever she wanted to do with her life.
Including starting a family. Em was interested in men, one man in particular. And she wanted children, in the abstract, someday. Not right now. She felt the duty to carry on the family line. She didn't want to be pushed to start right away. If there was going to be a next generation of Snyders, it was up to her, but it was driving her crazy because she was being pushed to learn all about running a shop at the same time as she was being pushed to find a husband, and at the same time as she was told to keep her distance from Harry because he wasn't acceptable because of what he'd done to the family.
The reminder made Em frown to herself. Polter deserved much of the blame for her family's poor standing now, but Potter really deserved some payback for his part. She'd thought of it before, almost daily since they'd re-met but had been afraid to do anything about it. Now that the truth had been revealed…
"Say, Harry, not to change the topic, but would you mind terribly if I were to try to kill you? Just for old times' sake?"
...ooo000ooo...
Em and her boyfriend, a word she had come to adore when it applied to her life, settled into something of a routine: She'd prepare a picnic lunch and they'd eat out in a field and she'd spill a drink on Potter's leg and an array of hedgehogs would swarm him in a frenzy. (That was when she learned that Harry could speak to and order ordinary animals just as well as magical creatures, though they couldn't speak back.)
They'd go for pints and darts at a workingmen's pub and Emma would snuggle safely under Harry's arm amongst all these jovial but rough and strong men before she instigated a brawl, thinking that even if Potter weren't trampled by the much larger men, she might be able to get in a surreptitious hex when no one was looking. Not one of the brawlers would go anywhere near him. "'E's a tough one, 'e is, Miss. 'E can take any three of us, straight up. An' when 'e has a gel wid 'im? I don't got a death wish, no I don't." (That was when Em learned that Harry had undergone a few secret, family rituals to increase his strength, speed, and toughness.)
They'd go for a stroll down Diagon Alley and a team of hit wizards would fail to materialize on a tip about a serial killer polyjuiced as Potter. (That was when Em learned that the DMLE was in daily contact with Harry. This was partly as protection for the wizard who had single-handedly vanquished the most recent Dark Lord and partly as institutional protection from the wizard who had been able to single-handedly vanquish the most recent Dark Lord.)
They'd go for a stroll in Hogsmeade and a team of wizards would materialize and begin throwing curses. Harry shielded himself and his girlfriend and asked whether this was one of her plots. On receiving a wide-eyed No in answer, he then obliterated not only the would-be killers but half of the building they'd been hiding behind. (That was when Em learned the other reason that the DMLE kept tabs on Harry and any potential assassins: to cut down on the collateral damage.)
Throughout all this, Em enjoyed herself. The dates were pleasant or exciting. They were frustrating, as well, but that was only a temporary setback until she managed to get him.
The dates were often educational. Aside from her exposure to Muggle life and the goods they sold, Harry had taught her a lot about dating. "When you're dating, you're finding out what's wrong with the other person and figuring out if you can live with it." "Something a lot of older people have told me is that 'your one true love' is an illusion. Find someone good enough and pick her. Or him." "Building a relationship is like building a house: one brick at a time." "Know yourself and like yourself first of all. That way, if your relationship doesn't work out, you still have the most important thing."
That last one set Em back on her heels. Did she like herself?
Em was clever and pretty and came from a family with some decent wealth. Those were reasons for others to like her. Were they reason for her to like herself? They were all things she was born with. She liked being pretty but she hadn't done anything to earn it. The same with the rest.
And she had drifted with no real life plan until she was forced into a career. That was nothing to be proud of.
And she'd been holding a grudge against someone. For years. A someone who was a good man. For something that wasn't his fault. Someone she was coming to— Someone she was very fond of. She didn't like that about herself, not at all.
Em sighed and rubbed her face. She'd drop the grudge, stop the attempts to kill him.
But then she opened her eyes saw the items that she had recently purchased for a new trap. Items that were very expensive, for a shop clerk's budget. It would be foolish to waste them. She'd set one more trap, watch Harry laugh it off, and then stop.
And then she would confess her love to him. Her stomach clenched at the thought of opening herself up when he hadn't said anything yet. But Harry had said that she was the bravest of the Snyders (and the most intelligent and the prettiest and the most fun to be around), so he must have seen something in her that she didn't see herself. That was something to be proud of, something that she could like about herself. She could do it. It might take her a while to work up the nerve but she could do it.
...ooo000ooo...
"Make sure you never try to come through without me," Harry warned Em as he brought her through the floo to his flat for the first time. "People sometimes still try to kill me, so I have lots of protections. Believe me, you don't want to be caught in them."
Em nodded as she looked around curiously. It wasn't what she'd expected a bachelor's place to look like. It was tidy and smelled clean, certainly not what she'd expected. No girly magazines in sight, though they might be in the bedroom. She'd take a quick peek if she could go in there without being expected to get in the bed. The kitchen was small but usable, with a mixture of normal and what she deduced were muggle devices. The view from the front was an uninspiring street scene but the west side had a small balcony, allowing one to take in the sun on a nice day.
In short, Harry's flat was comfortable. Livable. It wasn't a fraction of the size of her parents' house but it was large enough for two. And she could see herself living—
Em drew herself up short. Again. This was happening more and more often. She had to decide what she wanted. She couldn't go on like this. It was driving her crazy and it wasn't fair to lead Harry on if—
Agh! To cover her roiling emotions, Em asked Harry, "Do you mind if I look around while you're cooking? Unless you need my help?"
Walking through Potter's apartment, Em spotted the perfect place for her trap: right over the bed. Pull the pieces from her purse, set up the trap itself, and conceal it. Easy as anything. The only tricky part was the trigger. She had to guess at Potter's weight, so that it wouldn't go off if he tossed a bag on the bed.
Mission accomplished, Em returned to the kitchen just in time to help pack the stir-fry into floo-safe containers. This evening she needed to stay at the shop's counter again, a last-minute change because her aunt was called away, but she and Harry could have an inexpensive date in spite of that.
As he stole a pea pod from Emma's plate on the shop's checkout counter, Harry mentioned, with all the subtlety he had in him, "I've been reading more of my family history. The Potters go back centuries and the head of the family kept records. The Blacks, too, for that side."
All that was true, but he'd been thinking about his place in the chain for a few years now, not just a few months.
"It's been making me think about family. And my place in the family. Families. And how that all history comes to an end if I don't carry it on."
Em's breath caught. Was he about to…? Now? When she'd finally stopped playing around and set a fool-proof trap? But he was right. Family was important and it was everyone's responsibility to continue the family, to strengthen it. Especially when you were the last of the family, or the last who could see to making a next generation, as Em was. And as Harry was, she re-realized with a start.
Em licked her lips and prepared to say Yes! when he popped the question. She loved Harry, there was no question about that, and her mother could learn to deal with the fact that her grandchildren would be Potters.
"So, anyway, nothing that needs to be done today, just setting out something to think about for later, maybe."
Em was furious! All that buildup and then he let her down!? To conceal her reaction she patted her lips with a napkin and consoled herself with thoughts of her trap until she had herself under control.
"Yes, I've had similar concerns. Of course, in my case they're also being put in my head by my parents. And by my aunt and uncle, now that Anne and Fanny, well, you know."
All that was true, but irrelevant. Em had heard since before she started Hogwarts that when she grew up she'd need to continue the family. That had been derailed by that whole marriage contract mess. For the past few years the elder generation had focused on the family keeping a low profile and then on being seen as honest and upright and not a shame to be seen with. Only in the past year had they started pushing her to marry, pointing out that, as the eventual owner of a long-held and profitable business, she should have no problem attracting a husband. Em gritted her teeth again because they didn't seem to recognize the implied insult, that Em wasn't pretty or witty or worthy enough to marry unless she bribed a wizard. Look right here, across the table from her: an attractive, powerful wizard who liked her and thought she was pretty and who didn't need her money because he had a business of his own.
"Yes, I understand," Harry nodded. "So, er, I'm afraid I'm going to have to call it an early night. I'll be going overseas on a big job and the international portkey is scheduled for tonight. I got the message just before I left to pick you up. We can talk more when I get back in a week or two, right?"
Em was a bit whipsawed by the constant changes in topic but at least they kept her off-balance enough that she didn't hex Harry for letting her down. She even gave him an extra-thorough goodbye kiss "for luck" when he asked for it, though she didn't know why he'd need luck just for going after some pests.
Harry was sad that he'd be away from Emma for a week or more but glad for the reason for it. He'd been asked to do an extermination job – the other kind of pest, which the local authorities hadn't been able to deal with – and they'd offered enough money to make it worth his while. He was sad that he hadn't time for more than a quick meal with his girlfriend but glad that he'd been able to hint that he was thinking about marriage. He was especially glad for the extended kissing and cuddling before Em let him go, but…
Checking his watch, Harry cursed. He'd hoped to have time for a nap before he had to leave, but he was running late. He'd have to hurry home and throw some clothes and supplies in a bag and then apparate to the international departure point.
...ooo000ooo...
Em was on Cloud Nine, waltzing with Harry. Her Harry. Every few seconds she had to lift her left hand from his shoulder to admire the ring which he'd placed on it not ten minutes before.
Harry had returned just that afternoon from his lengthy but very lucrative extermination contract overseas. He stopped by his flat just long enough to drop off his luggage, send Hedwig with a note to Em to meet him at a swank restaurant, and change into nice clothes. He'd then rushed to spend a chunk of his pay in a jewelry store.
Dinner was fine. The restaurant was fine. The conversation was fine. Em was more than fine, but Harry's attention wasn't in the moment.
Finally, after the main course was taken away and they were sipping wine before dancing – Em had long since declared that she could drink before dancing in heels because she could trust that Harry would always be there to support her – Harry reached into his pocket. He didn't know why he was so nervous. He had proposed marriage twice before and the proposal had been accepted each time. He had no reason to think Em would turn him down, not unless her repeated attempts to kill him were more than her way of flirting.
Maybe it was because this last job had paid enough that Harry had the wealth portion of earning access to the family vault, even after this evening's expenses. He had a stable career. He had only one last step to go from well off to extremely wealthy and she was sitting across the table from him. Was he rushing into this as a means to an end?
But ignoring doubts was the way to get things done. Harry brought his hand from his pocket to the table.
He hadn't expected Em to shake her head and run for the restroom.
Harry sighed, checked for traps just in case Em had been running away from something other than the ring, and then poured himself another glass of wine as he ignored the owner's sympathetic looks.
When Em saw Harry's nervous smile she wondered what the problem was. Had he forgotten his coin pouch? But then she saw the small, square box and her heart hammered so fast it was about to burst out of her chest.
No! How could he do this to her? Two weeks ago she'd been ready to marry him but in his absence she remembered why she was angry at him. She'd set up a fool-proof way to kill him once and for all and pay him back for ruining her life and get him out of her life forever.
But Em's heart broke at that. Have Harry out of her life? No!
Recoiling from that horrible thought, Em burst into tears and ran for the restroom to pull herself together. She couldn't look at him right now.
Once the tears had stopped and been wiped away, Em glared at herself in the mirror. "All right, Stupid Girl, it's time to make up your mind. You can't hold a grudge from when you were little and be in love with him. One or the other."
But, try as she might, Em couldn't pick one or the other. She loved Harry, she did, but seven years of hating him couldn't be set aside in a moment.
After a forever of anguishing about it, she finally figured out how to resolve the quandary.
Em went to pull a coin from her purse but realized that she'd left it on the table with Harry. Grimacing, she borrowed a knut from another witch who was re-charming her hair in front of the mirror.
"Heads I marry him, tails I kill him." Em caught the tumbling coin and slapped it against her wrist, hesitating before lifting her hand.
Tails. Kill Harry.
"That didn't count. It was just a warm-up. This time for real."
Tails.
That was it, then. Her course was set. She'd kill him and then get on with her life. The coin had spoken. She was going to do it. No more messing around.
"One more time, just to be sure." Em shook out her arm and made a production of getting the small coin centered just right on her thumbnail before tossing and catching and slapping and looking.
Tails.
"This is all your fault! Why did you give me a broken knut?" Em demanded of the other witch as she rushed back into the dining area.
"Yes!" she told Harry as soon as she was near enough to shout her answer. This was what she wanted. She'd wanted Harry since they'd first met and all that that other stuff was just childish silliness. And now she had proof that he wanted her, too. Walking past the amusement of the other diners, she extended her left hand to him. "I believe you have something for me?"
Harry bribed the house musician to play a series of slow dances, easy enough for a witch with a glass or three of wine in her to perform in heels. Em smiled constantly and melted into his arms as he steered her around the small dancing area, admiring the ring on her finger whenever she remembered to think of it. About every five seconds.
Yes. This was what she'd wanted her whole life.
"Harry? You don't mind, do you, if I stop trying to kill you?" They didn't miss a step of the waltz despite the unusual question. "I'd already decided not to and now it would seem completely wrong."
Her boyfriend – her fiancé – smiled and dropped her into a dip, kissing her on the way back up.
Warmth filled Em, spreading out from her lips to flood her body. Yes. Yes. No more waiting.
Pulling out of the kiss and her fiancé's – what a wonderful word! – arms, she grabbed his hand and dragged him toward the restaurant's apparation point, ignoring the knowing smirks from everyone around her. "Take me home, Harry. Take me home now."
In Harry's flat, Em gladly continued with the kissing and hugging, but when they migrated into Harry's bedroom she felt a bit of nerves.
"Promise to be gentle?" she asked, running her hands over the smooth muscles of his arms and shoulders. "It's my first time."
"I'll tell you a secret. It's my first time, too."
"What? But you've had all those girlfriends. And fiancées. And other witches with their tell-alls to Witch Weekly."
"The tell-alls were all lies. The girlfriends, some wanted to wait for marriage but we broke up before that. The others, we got about as far as we are now, but something always happened to interrupt us."
"Things like?"
"Like one time my girlfriend and I were on the couch, that same couch that's right there in the front room – er, we can replace it if you want – and getting ready to move in here when someone came in through the floo."
"It wasn't protected?"
"Yes, of course, but he was an assassin and had bribed someone at the ministry floo office to bypass the first layer of security and let him come through. My protections tore him up, of course. I didn't know he was an assassin so I had to call for help while my girlfriend – my half-dressed girlfriend – did what she could to keep him alive. The medics came through and fixed him up but left blood all over everything and then the aurors came through and it was nothing but interrogations and paperwork for six hours. Talk about a mood killer. She broke up with me after that."
"And what else?" Em wasn't sure she wanted to know, but she was still nervous. She knew what was going to happen tonight and she wanted it to happen but… just give her a minute.
"Well, one time a girlfriend and I went out before dawn to collect some potion ingredients, then I conjured a blanket, because the grass was still wet, and we cuddled together a bit, then before we could get much farther than cuddling, dogs came charging through right over us, and then a half dozen horses."
"Dogs? Horses? Running loose? Where was this?"
"Horses with riders. It was a fox hunt. I don't care one way or another about fox hunting, but that morning I was against it, I have to tell you.
"And then after we got ourselves dressed and away from the hunters – and they were all apologetic, I'll give them that – and to my apartment, she broke out in hives and I had to take her to Saint Mungo's because it turns out she's allergic to plastic and I have a lot of muggle things here. We broke up because I'm not going to completely leave the muggle world and its stuff."
"Ohhhh. Is that why you picked me up in that autocar on the morning that we hiked up the mountain? I wondered why we didn't apparate or take a portkey."
"Mm-hmm." Harry had to answer non-verbally because he was kissing his way around Em's neck. Which was good and felt good and his hands on her body felt good as he turned her but she still wasn't ready.
"Any more? A funny one?"
"Ah… One time she and I were almost like this and our legs got tangled together and we both fell. I broke both of my wrists and she was knocked unconscious."
"Saint Mungo's again?"
"Saint Mungo's. Oh, and the fire. Fire alarm; there was no fire. She was a muggleborn and had an apartment in a muggle building. The alarm went off and the building had to be emptied out so the firemen could check it. And then I got an emergency call before it was all cleared."
"That all sounds like more than a simple run of bad luck, Harry."
"I know. After the one girlfriend got covered in green paint and glitter I wondered if maybe I was cursed but I went to get checked and they didn't find anything."
"I'll admit that I so wanted to curse you when we were younger but I got over it. Squishing you under a rock wouldn't be as good as having you squishing me now."
Em was surprised at her own words and more surprised to discover that her fingers had finished unbuttoning Harry's shirt as they talked. She slowly backed away, pulling the shirt off as she went, so that she could lie back on his bed and appreciate the view. Oh, yes, she thought as she licked her lips, this was much better than having killed him as a child.
Something was tickling at her memory, but it couldn't be important. Not as important, not as pressing, as watching her fiancé undress for her. More than five years, going on ten, it had taken her, from first meeting the ruin of her family to resenting him and trying to kill him to becoming obsessed with him to forgetting him to meeting him again to remembering the old grudge to falling in love and being ready to share his life. And now, here he was. Obviously ready for her. Em was ready at last to put an end to all of her conflicted feelings and to put everything into this. As the saying went, live every day as if it were your last.
As Harry pulled off his last item of clothing, Em was thrilled to see the desire in his beautiful green eyes as they took her in from toe to top. She stared at him as she licked her lips again. Yes. It was perfect and her life had brought her to this point.
Harry lay down on the bed and reached for his lovely fiancée, the witch who left all previous girlfriends in the dust. This was the one he wanted to spend his life with.
He heard a click from the ceiling and had just enough time to see Em's eyes widen before the two lovers were jabbed by a hundred needles.
Emma's jaw clenched and then the light went out of her wonderful green eyes. Poison, Harry thought. He apparated them both to St Mungo's but he knew that it was already too late.
The would-be assassin didn't know that Harry had been immune to all poisons since he was twelve. And the stupid bastard had killed an innocent by mistake.
Harry would deal with the aurors and the medics and the paperwork and do what needed to be done.
And then?
And then Harry was going to war.
Alternate ending
Harry lay down on the bed and reached for his lovely fiancée, the witch who left all previous girlfriends in the dust. This was the one he wanted to spend his life with.
He heard a click from the ceiling and saw Em's eyes widen. Acting on instinct, Harry rolled on top of Em to protect her from whatever she'd just seen. Before he could bring up a shield or disapparate away, his back was stabbed a hundred times. It hurt!
"Harry!" Em screamed. "Oh, no! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" How could she have been so stupid?
She wriggled out from under Harry's still form and checked whether he was still alive or if she was too late. His eyes were dilated and she started to panic but then he took a deep breath and his eyes came into focus as she watched.
"Ugh," Harry said as he wiggled his fingers and felt sensation return. "Are you OK? I'm sorry, Emma. Someone must have gotten past my wards."
Em's stomach clenched in fear. But Harry thought she was courageous. She forced the words out. "That was me. I set this trap when I was here before, before you left. I thought you had just ignored it but you must have not set it off." She stopped to sniffle. "And then tonight I was so happy that I forgot and then you, and then you… I'm sorry!"
"It's OK. Can you pull out the knives or whatever they are? I can't reach them."
"Shouldn't I call for medics to come here? Or take you to St. Mungo's? The needles were poisoned."
"I'm immune to poison. Have been since I was twelve."
"Oh, now that's just unfair!"
"Ha. It's come in handy. Can you pull the needles out?"
Em did so, wincing more than Harry did as each came out, and then she cast spells over and over to clean and heal the wounds. She was exhausted by the time she was done. She deserved it and worse. Stupid, stupid...
"I'm so sorry. How can I make it up to you?"
"I can think of a few ways." Harry winced. "Later. Right now I just want to sleep."
Em helped Harry change the blood-specked blanket and sheet and tucked him in and gave him a kiss. He was asleep before his head hit the pillow. Em felt bad again. Harry had taken enough poison to kill ten men. Immune or not, it obviously had taken a lot out of him.
Chewing on her lip as she worked up her courage again, Em dropped the last of her clothes on the floor and climbed into the bed. This wasn't how she'd expected to spend her first night with Harry but she'd just gotten engaged. She was going to spend the night with her Harry.
And if all she did was sleep tonight, no problem.
No more traps. No more tricks. She had her Harry and she had the rest of her life to sleep with him properly.
Author's Note: Chapter 1 has a minor revision in the scene in which Harry rescued Emma from Anne's falling boulder trap. I'd set up a multilingual pun in Latin, French, and English, tying in with the pure/peur/puer discussion later… and then forgot to put the joke into the rescue scene. -facepalm-
There were also a few corrections of typographic errors caused by some glitch in getting the story from the editor where I typed it into FFN. I'd glanced at the story after it was published but didn't catch the glitches.
In this chapter, a number of Harry's dating misadventures come from my own experience, changed up to make them more humorous or to better fit story circumstances but mostly true. Believe me, they weren't funny to me at the time.
Another NOTE: In general I'm resistant to complaints from readers. However, one of my main reasons for writing fanfic is to practice and to try out different things. The ending which I thought was in keeping with a light and silly story disappointed a number of readers.