All your reviews and comments and theories are giving me life! I can't wait to hear what you think.
And thanks to my amazing beta reader, SolEmrys Ashebourne
Also, if you go to /works/30300201/chapters/75005949 you'll be able to see a graph of how the Auror office works
"I'm obsessive when just one thought of you comes up
And I'm aggressive just one thought of closing up
You got me stressing, incessantly pressing the issue
'Cause every moment gone you know I miss you
I'm the question, and you're of course the answer
Just hold me close, boy, 'cause I'm your tiny dancer
You make me shaken up, never mistaken
But I can't control myself, got me calling out for help"
"SOS," Rihanna
Friday
October 12th, 2007
Auror Office, The Ministry of Magic
Whitehall, London
AC Malgier Selwyn bore an uncanny resemblance to a young Sirius Black, and Harry was unnerved. He knew that Selwyn hailed from one of the Sacred 28 - the families that were considered actual purebloods - and that many of his cousins had been Death Eaters. AC Selwyn was an anomaly within his family - he had been sorted into Hufflepuff and cared little about his family's obsession with blood status. His family disliked him and took every opportunity to belittle him. Hogwarts became his refuge - he found people who paid no mind to the differences between the different blood statuses and who genuinely liked Malgier and made him feel safe. He loved his classes and planned to pursue a Mastery of Astronomy. However, everything changed when the Second Wizarding War officially started and Snape took over the school. Dumbledore's Army was resuscitated, and the normally reserved Selwyn decided to join. He became fast friends with Neville and then proved to be adept at driving the Carrows mad. During the Battle of Hogwarts, several friends were murdered, and Selwyn chose to abandon his love of Astronomy and follow Neville to the Auror Office.
"For the DIR, this is AI Potter and AS Longbottom interviewing AC Malgier Selwyn in the presence of his Federation rep, OC Newton. As AS Longbottom and AC Selwyn have a personal relationship, Mr Parkinson from Legal is here as an independent observer," Harry said, opening his folder. Selwyn pushed some of his long, black hair out of his face, and Harry was reminded of Sirius all over again.
"AC Selwyn, when were you informed that there was a mission?" Harry asked.
"I think nine pm. I was home, and I got a message from AI Welch-Boone about a surveillance directive. We went to the location, set up, and at around two am confirmed that the subject we were surveying matched the intelligence provided by the CHIS."
"Did you tell anyone that you were going on a stakeout?" Harry asked.
Selwyn puffed. "No, I followed procedure. I told no one and I went directly to the Office, and from there I went to the location. I communicated with no one outside of team three."
"When did you arrive at the location?"
"21:37, sir. We set up our equipment, and by 21:52 we were conducting full operational surveillance."
"And what did you see?"
"The subject of the surveillance, and three others. The three persons who were not the subject were known collaborators during the war."
"Do you know if there was any communication with the CHIS during the surveillance period?"
Selwyn considered Harry for a moment, as if he was sizing him up. "No, sir, there was not."
Harry scribbled some notes when he heard Selwyn cough.
"Sir," Selwyn said tentatively, "If I may be so forward, why are you conducting these interviews? Debriefing normally happens with a Special Forces Auror."
"Five people are dead," Harry said shortly. "Head Auror Hastings asked me to do this."
Hermione had mentioned during their rendezvous she disliked Selwyn, and now Harry understood why. While he had a compelling backstory, he had an unsettling way of parsing out his words and surveying the person he was talking to, as if to determine if they were worthy of his time.
"Thank you, AC Selwyn," Harry said, closing his folder. "Please be aware that this is still an open incident and you should keep yourself available for further questioning"
"Pardon me sir, but this is feeling like an anti-corruption investigation… sir," Selwyn said, as he and his Federation rep stood up to leave the conference room.
"Do you believe it should be an anti-corruption investigation?" Harry asked, raising his eyebrows. He noticed Neville shifting in his chair.
Selwyn pursed his lips. "I wouldn't know, sir. I'm simply an Auror Constable."
When he left the room, Neville rounded on Harry.
"I know we're just debriefing them, but I think Malgier is right. I keep thinking about what Sutherland-Reese was saying. Who would have known that there was intelligence that a highly wanted suspect had been spotted, let alone that a capture op was about go down?"
"Mate, I know you're friends with AC Selwyn. Have you had a discussion with him about these debriefings?"
Neville shook his head. "Of course not, Harry. I just think that maybe we should recommend an anti-corruption investigation to the gaffer."
Harry busied himself with the papers on the table, shepherding them into the folder. "Let's finish the interviews and write the report. Then we can offer a recommendation, if we believe there needs to be any further action. That's the procedure."
Neville looked slightly surprised at Harry's terse answer, but said nothing, and busied himself with paperwork. Harry, however, was a million miles away.
Tuesday
December 15th, 1998
The Burrow
Outside of Ottery St. Catchpole, Devon
After the war, Harry's visits to the Burrow were sparse. He missed Fred and felt incredibly guilty about his death, and he was extremely busy with Auror training and Teddy. But Ginny was back and Harry was delighted to see her. She seemed pleased, but her level of enthusiasm paled in comparison to Harry's, which bothered him slightly. As she excused herself to freshen up, Harry noticed Mrs Weasley hovering in the doorway.
"Can I hold him?" she asked, her expression sad but hopeful. Her demeanour had changed significantly in the aftermath of Fred's death. She was a shadow of the woman Harry had considered his second mum and it felt like a knife in his heart every time he saw her.
"Of course," Harry smiled. Mrs Weasley took Teddy into her arms and settled on the couch.
"He looks so much like both of them," she remarked after some quiet moments. "He's absolutely beautiful."
Harry nodded. He had no way of explaining how much he loved Teddy. It was almost overwhelming in its intensity. Teddy was just beginning to show signs of being a metamorphmagus, with his hair colour changing depending on his mood. His favorite was, of course, mimicking Harry during playtime.
"This age is wonderful," Mrs Weasley said, staring at Teddy. "There's nothing like being able to hold them close and just be with them." Harry nodded again. He knew exactly what she meant.
"What is he going to call you?"
"I'm really not sure yet," Harry said. "I've been struggling with it, and I just don't know."
"Do you want my advice?" Mrs Weasley asked. Harry was struck by her question. Before Fred died, she would have just offered it without the question, and the hesitation in her voice broke his heart all over again.
"I will always want your advice," Harry said.
"Let him call you Dad. You'll be his father in every way that matters. And when you have other children, you want him to feel included, like he's just as much a part of the family as the other kids. Give him your last name - Teddy Lupin-Potter. Tell him stories about Remus and Nymphadora, but make sure he knows he's just as much a part of the Potter family." Mrs Weaseley rocked Teddy, not looking up.
Harry felt tears welling up in the corners of his eyes.
"I wish I had stood up to Dumbledore a little more, forced him to let me be your legal guardian. He always had some excuse about your mum's love living in your aunt's blood or other such nonsense, but I loved you from the moment you showed up on our doorstep after they stole Arthur's blasted flying car. It hurt so much to see you so thin and withdrawn every summer."
Harry was struck with a thought, and it tumbled out of his mouth before he could think any further. "Mrs Weasley, would you like to be Teddy's honorary grandmother?"
Mrs Weasley looked up at Harry, her face a mixture of surprise and excitement. "Grandma Molly?"
Harry bobbed his head, the tears in the corners of his eyes spilling down his face. The Weasleys had given something he had desperately wanted his entire life - a family, a sense of belonging. Unconditional love. He knew he could never repay them for all of what they had given him and the horrific sacrifices they had made, but offering Mrs Weasley the title of grandmother felt like the best way Harry could acknowledge how much he appreciated them.
When Ginny rejoined Harry and Mrs Weasley in the drawing room, Mrs Weasley made a comment about how they should have alone time and she just wanted to be with Teddy. Exchanging knowing looks, Harry and Ginny obeyed without question. They went up to her bedroom and she told him about her classes and Quidditch and her friends and how much she had missed him. His stories were about Teddy and living with Hermione and Auror training, and he couldn't help but notice that she seemed less than interested in Teddy and Hermione.
Why can't she see how happy Teddy makes me?
Friday
October 12th, 2007
Auror Office, The Ministry of Magic
Whitehall, London
Harry left the conference room, his thoughts a whirlwind of chaos. Neville was beginning to suspect the true nature of the interviews, that the operation was an inside job and that Harry was investigating. More pressing was Harry's growing suspicion that the whole thing was much deeper than just one person alerting the collaborators. As he neared his office, he noticed AI Julian Welch-Boone hovering next to his desk, looking at something intensely. Harry darted forwards, his internal alarm bells ringing shrilly.
"AI Welch-Boone?" Harry asked. "How can I help you?"
"AI Potter," Welch-Boone said awkwardly, almost jumping away from the desk in surprise. "Errr - well. I just wanted-"
His voice faltered, and he looked around, obviously trying to gather his words.
"Is this about your interview?" Harry asked, moving stuff around on his desk to make it seem like he had more important things to do so as to get Welch-Boone out of his office as quickly as possible.
Welch-Boone looked to the right and to the left, as if to check that no one was coming. As he looked up, Harry pinned him in place with a look that had broken more than one suspect in his field career. Welch-Boone opened his mouth and then shut it again.
"Nothing, AI Potter. Better not," he said and hurried out of the office. Harry watched him, confused and suspicious. He then quickly surveyed his desk to see he hadn't accidentally left sensitive material out.
What was he looking for?
More importantly, what did he intend to do when he found it?
Every month, the Auror Office would rent a restaurant for an interoffice mixer. Harry normally skipped the event — he hated small talk and he much preferred spending time with Teddy. However, this time was different.
Loose lips sink ships. Maybe a different environment and, more importantly, alcohol will loosen them up and I'll get some information.
When Harry walked in at around eight pm, the restaurant was abuzz with raucous laughter and loud conversation. Tables had been pushed aside to create a dance floor and a long table laden with food for a buffet ran along the far side of the restaurant. It was happy and casual, and Harry instantly regretted wearing his work suit and not changing when he got home. He removed his overcoat and jacket, and spotted Hastings chatting with an ACI from Protection Divison. Hastings waved him over.
"Potter," Hastings said cheerfully. "Nice surprise to see you here. You never come to the monthly piss-up."
Harry chuckled. "Teddy's staying over at a friend's. So I thought I'd be social with people my age for a change."
"Wouldn't hurt you to come more often," the ACI said. "Networking, you know. ACI O'Connor, pleased to meet you." O'Connor extended his hand, and Harry shook it.
"I just got promoted to AI," Harry said. "Not really-"
"Nonsense," O'Connor cut him off. "Everything above AI is politics and you have to start playing the game."
Harry smiled politely. He hated talking about promotions and politics, mostly because he wasn't the least inclined for the latter and he disliked the race to the top that made up the former. That dislike was compounded by the well known fact that Hastings made no secret of his hopes — and his grooming — of Harry for the Head Auror position. Neither the increase in pay or influence held any allure for Harry.
Harry quickly excused himself and walked over to the bar. As he was waiting for his pint, ACI Sutherland-Reese decided to suck up to him. "AI Potter! Nice to see you round these parts." Sutherland-Reese stuck out his hand.
This one's everywhere, isn't he?
"Hello, sir," Harry said guardedly.
"We're not at work. Please call me Reese."
"Harry, then?" Harry nodded and shook his hand.
"How are you, Reese?"
"Bored," Sutherland-Reese admitted, and Harry looked at him, surprised. "Hate the small talk that infects events like this, but it is part of the job. My wife loved it though.."
"You're married?" Harry asked.
"Was," Sutherland-Reese handed Harry his pint and motioned to the bartender for another one.
"Got married three years after Hogwarts. Couple of good years, too, but then the war happened and I went on the run. Muggle-born, you know," he gave Harry a dejected look, "And then when the dust had settled I came back and found she had left me for another man."
Harry felt genuinely remorseful for Sutherland-Reese. The man still confused him though; the absurdly handsome face set Harry on edge, and his demeanour was almost as if he had practised being causal. Years with the Dursleys had left him wary of people who behaved like that. But Sutherland-Reese was undeniably nice to Harry, which was more than he could say for the other members of Special Forces. Not that he could blame them overmuch; loyalty was a major sticking point amongst law enforcement officers, and as far as Special Forces was concerned, Hermione hated Harry and they were in her corner. As Harry sipped his pint, he watched Welch-Boone pull a laughing Hermione onto the dance floor. Harry remembered the note he found on Hermione's desk.
Is Hermione dating Welch-Boone? Is Monty a nickname?
"What do you know about AI Welch-Boone?" Harry asked Sutherland-Reese, hating himself for even wondering.
"He's very clever and he's good at his job. Ambitious man, though - wants to run the Department someday, maybe the Wizengamot? And then open his own magical defence firm - you know, ex-Aurors providing security to witches and wizards who think they need it, that sort of thing. Singers, politicians and all those other wankers."
"I take it you don't approve?" Harry turned to Sutherland-Reese, who shrugged.
"I've had experience with it. My father was one of those old-money types. Always talking about what was proper and how I was going to inherit the family business one day. How I had responsibilities. I just wanted to play footie and I loved reading, which really bugged dear old dad. Never was too interested in hunting, hated polo. And let's not forget uncontrollable accidental magic being dismissed as looking for attention. Then McGonagall showed up and told him I was a wizard and… well, I can tell you it didn't help."
"My aunt and uncle took us to a deserted cottage on an island to get away from the Hogwarts letters," Harry said, smiling ruefully. "They were worried about what the neighbours would say, and they hated magic."
By now, Hermione and Welch-Boone had stopped dancing and Hermione was chatting with someone Harry didn't recognise. He watched her carefully.
She's gorgeous. All those years in Hogwarts, you didn't notice her. And look at her now.
The thought was replaced instantly by a desperate desire to find out what her hair felt like between his fingers, what his hands would feel like on her waist, on the small of her back. What would happen if he pulled her so close to him. What her lips would feel like on his. He imagined kissing down her neck, teasing her until she begged, his name the only thing she could muster.
"Anyway," Sutherland-Reese said, and Harry was snapped back to reality.
You're having fantasies about a woman who refuses to be in the same room as you, let alone talk to you.
You absolute, hopeless wanker.
Tuesday
December 15th, 1998
Number 16 Montpelier Square
Knightsbridge, London
"I will go where you lead
Always there in time of need
And when I lose my will
You'll be there to push me up the hill."
Harry peered into the kitchen, where Hermione was concentrating over what looked like a cookbook, her brows furrowed as she held a cup of flour in one hand and a glass of wine in the other. Music was playing, and something was smeared on her cheek and forehead. She looked dishevelled and adorable at the same time, and it was absolutely pure Hermione.
She looked up at him and grinned. "How was seeing Ginny?"
"Good. Had a bit of a natter with Mrs Weasley as well."
"Oh?" Hermione asked, putting down the cup of flour. "What about?" Harry told her about the discussion he had with Mrs Weasley - Teddy calling Harry dad, and Mrs Weasley being elected Grandma Molly. Hermione seemed pleased and a little emotional when he told her.
"And Ginny? How did she take it?" Hermione asked, and Harry felt his mood darken. Hermione must have seen it reflected on his face ⸺ of course she did, she always did - because she turned around and rummaged for another glass, before pouring him a glass of wine. She slid the glass over to him, and they made their way up the stairs into the sitting room.
Sitting down and crossing her legs, she raised her eyebrows, and the words came tumbling out of him.
"Ginny just seems… ambivalent about the whole thing? Like she knows I'm living with you and she knows about Teddy, but she's detaching herself from the situation. Something seems off. I don't know ⸺ am I making sense or just being paranoid? Because I feel paranoid."
Hermione nodded. "Do you want me to give you my honest opinion?"
"Do you have to ask? Always." Harry smiled weakly.
"You were dating Ginny when we left for the search, and I think she expected you to come back and everything to go back to normal. But it didn't ⸺ Fred died, you adopted Teddy and moved in with me. Ron's never gotten over the time that he left He's so worried that something happened between you and I and -"
"But it's not like that, between us," Harry protested.
"I know that. And you know that," Hermione leaned against the arm of the sofa, "But to people who aren't us? It paints a very specific picture. And while Ginny knows our situation, it doesn't change the way she feels. She's still in Hogwarts, her big brother is dead and suddenly her boyfriend is raising a baby while living with another woman and he never asked her. She's likely feeling pressured to take up a very specific role in Teddy's life, Harry.."
"But this is what needed to happen, and ⸺ and I love Teddy, and I'm his godfather-"
"But it doesn't change the way she feels. Raising a child has significant meaning Harry.." Hermione took a sip of her wine. It was silent for a moment, and then the sounds of Teddy crying rang through the house.
"I'll get him," Hermione said, placing her glass on the coffee table and headed out to get Teddy. She returned several minutes later, Teddy in her arms. "I think he's hungry," she said with concern. "Wanna make him a bottle?" Harry nodded.
As he entered the kitchen and started pulling out the formula and the bottle, he wondered how Ginny just didn't understand exactly what Hermione did. How was it possible she wasn't head over heels for Teddy?
"S.O.S. please someone help me
It's not healthy for me to feel this
Y.O.U. are making this hard
You got me tossin' and turnin', can't sleep at night"
Monday
October 15th, 2007
Auror Office, The Ministry of Magic
Whitehall, London
The weekend had passed uneventfully, yet Harry found himself unable to focus because of the questions swirling inside in his brain. From weekend errands to lunch at the Burrow, the same questions kept repeating in his brain.
Who had they been there to capture?
Who were the collaborators?
Who had tipped them off, and how did they do it?
Who was the CHIS, and who was the handler?
And the last question felt horrible, an utterly inappropriate thought that he just couldn't banish ⸺ who is Monty?
Harry remembered that he had never interviewed AC Ali. ACI Sutherland-Reese had promised to send over Ali when she returned to the office, and yet she had never materialised. He decided to take another stab at interviewing her and began to make his way over to the Special Forces department.
As he passed the divider, he surveyed the office. AI Welch-Boone was poring over something that looked like a map with AC Ramesh and AS Park. AC Biggeloe and AC Humphries seemed to be in the middle of an impassioned discussion. And Hermione was at her desk, looking intently at a piece of paper. He hated the way his heart skipped a beat when he saw her.
He cleared his throat, and it seemed like the entire office looked up. When Hermione noticed him, she hastily shoved the piece of paper into her desk drawer, looking worried.
"I'm trying to wrap up the debriefings so you can all go back to doing what you do best ⸺ stuff I shouldn't know about," he said with a weak attempt at humour. There was a low rumble, and Harry shoved his hands in his pockets. "Please make yourself available to me in the next couple of days, and I'll be out of your hair. AC Ali? If you would please meet me in the conference room? Thank you."
Harry turned on his heel, making his way to the conference room.
What did Hermione need to hide?
AC Ali entered the room, and Harry looked over her personnel folder. She was born in Iraq but had moved to England as a young girl when her father, a renowned Potions Master, received a researcher position with England's premier Apothecary.
Her distinct Scouse accent had small inflexions of her native Iraq, making it oddly pleasant to listen to. She served as a liaison officer in France for a year and had two commendations - one for pursuing a suspect despite extreme personal danger, and another for outstanding service during her time during the Protection Division. She had been a Hufflepuff, captain of the Gobstones team, and had recently given birth to a baby boy. On paper, this was an outstanding Auror and nothing Harry had observed disputed that fact.
There was a long beep that indicated the recording had begun, and Neville introduced the meeting on tape.
"AC Ali, thank you for making yourself available. I'm specifically interested in closing up some details about personnel on the day of the raid."
AC Ali nodded. "Yes, of course, AI Potter. However I can help."
"ACI Sutherland-Reese was acting as the leader of team four because your regular four-one was on leave. Who is your normal four one?"
"AS Ryerson. His wife had a baby and so he's on paternity leave."
Harry nodded, noting it down.
"How long had AS Ryerson been on paternity leave at the time of the operation?"
"About two weeks."
"Have you worked with ACI Sutherland-Reese before?" Harry asked.
"No," Ali shook her head. "All I remember is he came into the briefing room, shook ACI Garner's hand and said, 'thanks for this, including me at the last minute.'"
"Last minute? You just stated that AS Ryerson was on paternity leave for two weeks already?"
Ali nodded.
"For the DIR, let it be noted that AC Ali has indicated her agreement to the statement," Harry said, before looking through the timeline he had jotted down. "Standard procedure is to assign an acting leader while the regular team leader is on leave well before an operation, is it not?"
"Yes, sir," Ali nodded again.
"Am I to understand that ACI Sutherland-Reese was assigned to the team only several hours before the operation while a different team leader had been previously appointed?"
"Yes, sir."
"Who is the official leader of team four while AS Ryerson is on leave?"
"AS Greaves."
"Did AS Greaves know about the op?"
Ali shook her head.
"No, sir. He was throwing his toys when we got back, talking about violation of procedure."
Harry furrowed his brows. "AC Ali, I want to make this perfectly clear for the record. The official leader of team four is on leave. AS Greaves had been appointed to take his place and yet was not informed when there was an operation taking place, but ACI Sutherland-Reese was put on the mission by ACI Garner?"
"Yes, sir."
"Thank you for your cooperation, AC Ali. That will be all for now. Please call in AS Waldron."
Nothing Ali had said had calmed the questions cropping up in his mind. Nothing was being resolved. It felt like he had tugged on the right thread and the entire jumper was unravelling.
AS Waldron was a tall man with curly hair and a large forehead. There was something distinctly unlikeable about him, and Harry was beginning to wonder if the requirement to be in Special Forces was to be an absolute dickhead.
His story was the same as Hermione's — he was alerted at around two am that there was a possible operation and he reported to the Office. Hermione had alerted the Aurors to report to headquarters at around four, they briefed the Aurors at about five and headed to the location. The mission had gone to plan, right up until the suspect was captured and he they and collaborators were brought back to the group.
Nothing was different. Not a shred of detail had changed.
"You've been an AS for the past six years," Harry said, watching Waldron's face, which was remarkably emotionless. "You passed the inspectors exam four years ago yet you've never been promoted. However, you're acting in the capacity of Mission Operations Officer, which is normally a position occupied by an AI."
There was silence for several long moments.
"I'm sorry, sir," Waldron said, "Is there a question?"
"No, just a curious set of events. An AI — Julian Welch-Boone — was serving as the leader of a team, which is a position normally occupied by an AS, such as yourself."
"AI Welch-Boone specialises in Special Forces surveillance, as do AS Park, AC Selwyn, and AC Ramesh, as well as the deceased AS McCarty. I specialise in operations management, as did ACI Garner. Our ranks are haphazard in this case, but we were in the positions that we are trained for."
"You mention that you were in operations management, as was ACI Garner, but AI Granger was part of mission leadership. Is AI Granger not an operations manager?"
Waldron scoffed. "AI Granger is barely a leader. She allows personal connections to cloud her judgement and was promoted because she uses her personal connections to climb the ladder. AI Granger is an STA. Not an operations manager."
Harry's eyebrows shot up — he hadn't expected that level of vitriol from Waldron, and especially not about Hermione, who. seemed universally beloved by everyone in Special Forces.
"I'd remind you, AS Waldron," Neville said, his tone icy, "to watch your tone and accusations about AI Granger, especially when you seem to be implying AI Granger has broken regulations to rise in the ranks."
AS Waldron scoffed.
"AS Waldron, did you communicate with the CHIS at any point between when you were alerted that there was a possible mission or when the raid commenced?" Harry asked.
"No, I did not. The CHIS's identity was only known to ACI Garner, AI Granger, and the handler. I know the handler was on the mission, but I don't know who the handler is either."
"Thank you, AS Waldron, that will be all," Harry said, and left the room.
How dare he speak about Hermione like that.
"This time, please someone come and rescue me
'Cause you on my mind, it's got me losing it
I'm lost, you got me looking for the rest of me
Got the best of me, so now I'm losing it"
Monday
December 21st, 1998
Number 16 Montpelier Square
Knightsbridge, London
Ron and Hermione were fighting again. Witch Weekly had interviewed her for an article, and Ron was upset that Hermione didn't speak about him 'enough'. The accusation was ridiculous to Harry and it was unfair for Ron to do this today of all days. Hermione was under the weather and revising for an exam - she most certainly did not need Ron indulging in his inferiority complex at her expense.
Harry scooped up a sobbing Teddy, intending to take him to a different room, anger bubbling away in his stomach. His feelings towards Ron had changed since he had left during the search. How did Ron not see how much Hermione was doing? Healer training, raising Teddy, going to therapy to deal with Bellatrix's actions at Malfoy manor and the rest of the war in general, trying to research how to get her parents' memories back… She didn't need his jealousy today.
You have to say something. What Ron is doing is not ok.
As Harry made his way down to the kitchen, he heard a knock at the door. He hadn't been expecting anyone, yet was relieved there was a distraction, no matter what it might be.
George.
He looked considerably thinner, with large bags under his eyes. His overcoat was much too large on him, highlighting how much weight he had lost.
"Sorry to drop in unexpectedly, but—" George said, tentatively, and Harry's stomach sank into his knees. All of George's former joy and sparkle was (expectedly) gone.
"Rubbish," Harry said, forcing a smile. "Come on in. Tea?"
George nodded gratefully, and followed Harry into the kitchen. Harry shifted the still crying Teddy on his hip and cast a silent warming spell on the kettle. George sat down at the table, looking around as if to gather his words.
"Mum can't stop talking about Teddy," he began. "I don't know what you did, but it's like part of Mum came back to life when you and she had that chat. Thank you for whatever it was, Harry."
Harry gave him a small smile as he slid a cup of tea across to George, who accepted it with a nod.
"And… I just… I wanted to meet him. I haven't really been out of the house except to the shop and… I just thought…"
"Do you want to hold him?" Harry asked.
George nodded. "Can I?"
"Yes, of course." Harry helped Teddy into George's arms. Almost instantly, Teddy stopped crying, and George looked entranced by Teddy. George's brown eyes locked onto Teddy's hazel eyes, and it seemed like George had formed an immediate attachment to Teddy. Their bond was tragic - George and Teddy had both lost their most important people on the same day — and there was some form of unmistakable magic that crackled in the kitchen.
"To have been loved so deeply, even though the person who loved us is gone, will give us some protection forevermore." Dumbledore had told Harry once, and Harry wondered if that same protection was now shared between Teddy and George.
How can George fall in love so immediately with Teddy but Ginny can't seem to look at him?
Hermione made her way into the kitchen, her eyes red. The devil on Harry's shoulder whispered darker, more violent fates for Ron as he took in her grief. The angel sat opposite was strangely quiet. Hermione looked at George, who was cradling a now peaceful Teddy and looked at Harry questioningly.
"George came over to meet Teddy," Harry explained, and Hermione grinned.
"He's perfect, isn't he?" Hermione said, the tone of her voice conjuring such images in his brain - for this was the tone he'd heard when Mary Cattermole had spoken of her children while thanking him after the War, that was hidden under Andromeda's grief at Tonk's eulogy. It contained joy, amazement and sheer wonder at the miracle she beheld everyday - the tone reserved for a mother speaking of her child.
George nodded wordlessly, not taking his eyes off of Teddy. Hermione shot Harry a proud look that he gladly returned. They were doing their absolute best with Teddy, and it seemed to be paying off.
Why does Ginny have such a problem with this where Hermione supports me without question? Why can't Ginny be more like Hermione?
My tummy's up in knots, as I see you get so hot
Common sense is out the door, can't seem to find a lot
Take a minute, you know inside you feel it right
Take me home, I put desire in your arms tonight
I'm out with you, ya got me head over heels
Monday
October 15th, 2007
Number 12 Grimmauld Place
Islington, London
Long after Teddy had gone to bed, Harry was sitting in the family room with a glass of firewhisky, watching a cooking competition show. He had fallen in love with all types of cooking shows, but the competitive ones were his favourites. They were excellent distractions from his complicated job and his lack of a personal life.
"Oh you absolute twat, you put potatoes in the blender?" Harry grumbled at the telly.
As Harry watched another chef bungle a balsamic reduction, he heard a knock at the door. He tensed up and grabbed his wand. Between Death Eaters, potentially bent Aurors, and the still-fascinated press, he could never be sure what was on the other side.
Harry honestly didn't know if he preferred a follower of Voldemort or a reporter on the other side - both were equally curse-able. He looked through the peephole in the door and was surprised to see Hermione.
He opened the door, and she rushed inside, obviously nervous that someone would have noticed her. Harry ran a cursory gaze over the street outside, just to be certain himself.
"I didn't want to come when you were at home, but I didn't know how to do this," she said, looking around. Her sudden presence was jarring to him, especially in the context of Grimmauld Place, a place that had so much meaning and history behind it for them. And yet, there was something oddly comforting about her renewed presence.
"You need to call Humphries and Brewer in for debriefing tomorrow. Humphries is drowning in debt — obviously, you can't let him know that you know, not until you open an official inquiry. He could have tipped off the target for money."
"And Brewer?"
"Brewer was involved with Garner, who was married. He broke it off about a week before the op. She was angry, very angry - Hell hath no wrath angry. And her ruthless streak is definitely lethal enough."
"Enough to sell out her fellow Aurors to Death Eaters and get five of them killed?" Harry asked incredulously.
"I know it's weak, but I can't think of anything else. Maybe he was just supposed to get hurt and it got out of hand?" For a moment, she looked like the old Hermione - the one who would argue with him while they were trying to solve a problem. The Hermione that followed him unquestionably, that supported him unwaveringly. He was struck by how absolutely beautiful he found her, and the feeling of wanting to pull her in came over him for the second time since Friday.
"What about Welch-Boone? He was in my office and I'm pretty sure he wasn't looking for a spare quill."
Hermione shook her head. "I think it's Brewer."
"I don't think someone would go that far to sabotage someone because they broke up with them," Harry said.
"Really, Harry? You can't think of anyone who would do something like that? Are you that blind?" Hermione asked, her tone instantly cold. She spun on her heel and walked out of the house, apparating into the velvet blackness.
Oh you absolute and completely pathetic wanker.
You're pining for a woman who's never going to come back. Why would she?
"Just your presence, and I second guess my sanity
Yes, it's a lesson, it's based on my vanity
Boy, you keep me hanging on, the way you make me feel"