Chapter 11

Ten minutes and a moral crisis later the Aurors filter in and Harry starts to prepare tea for everyone like a good, nice, normal assistant. Martinez takes a look at the scene and immediately goes to Harry at his permanent post by the stove.

"Did you do anything?" Is there any evidence I need to heavily edit to not involve you in this?

"Did not raise my wand," Harry assured the man. At Martinez don't bullshit me look and this is serious frown, Harry raised his hands in mock surrender. "Not one spell. Not one of my fingers twitched. Stayed right here, did not move, not even to duck a spell, did not talk."

"Harry hates fish," Pike said unprompted as he nosily uncovered the forgotten pans with dinner.

Harry turned a death glare at Pike. Riddle turned from a conversation with an Auror to look first at Pike and then at Harry with a frown.

"Fuck damn it Pike. What the fuck are you even doing here? This has nothing to do with poison."

"You don't like salmon?" Riddle asked with noticeable displeasure disregarding his previous conversation. The senior Auror did not look happy that his questions were not being taken with the proper gravitas.

"Ignore him. Salmon is fine."

"Hates it," Pike repeated, to Harry he asked, "Want me to bring you tacos from the food truck on the corner?"

"Ah," Harry hesitated with a nervous look at Riddle. "The one near the 24hour pharmacy?"

"Where else? They are the only tacos worth having."

Harry's inner Petunia screamed at him that it was impolite to reject a dinner made for him even if the thought of fish repulsed him. "No. It's fine."

"I'm going anyway. I'm not working tonight so I can get dinner for me and Martinez."

"Well...if you are going," Harry caved like a badly placed house of cards. "Bring me five meat, with crisps, extra spicy, with the stringy thing on top. You know the thing, right? The crispy stuff."

"Yeah, yeah, I know."

Belatedly, he remembered that Riddle was right there, listening, still heavily frowning. "You want some Mr. Riddle?" It was always Mr. Riddle while in the company of others, and Riddle when alone. "It's going to be a long night and the salmon is probably ruined with blood."

The salmon was decidedly not ruined by blood because Harry had put the lid over it and the whole ordeal had been done and over in minutes. But there had been blood near it, it was probably unsanitary. So...tacos? Riddle was not amused and did not want tacos. Whenever he wasn't being interviewed, he was frowning at Harry. Harry made himself busy by making more tea and being blind to Tom Riddle-shaped objects.

While waiting for the tacos, they were interviewed, the bodies removed and the apartment put to rights. Harry was playfully ribbed by the Aurors about his lack of participation and that his last fifty spells were mostly for copying and stapling papers. (Harry had been an auror, he knew how and when to clean his wand of all the "above his station" spells).

Riddle had been a dark shadow over his shoulder as the spells kept coming as stapling spells when Harry had done no stapling all day. Harry cheerfully ignored him because no, he was not hiding...just not looking for an in-depth case review by the Auror Department about how he knows what he knows, where he learned it, and who taught him. He had been an Auror, so he knew that a layperson who did the spells he does raises all sorts of red flags and pointed questions. He just wanted everyone to avoid the headache and the extra paperwork. Especially for Martinez and Pike which then have to use their pull inside the department to make it all quietly go away. (Like they have done on occasion)

The smart cookies in the Auror Department declared that Riddle was now safe. The killers were dead and he could stay in his home without the need for bodyguards. (What in the incompetent hell had the Auror department turned into? Martinez's blood pressure had to be through the roof). This was clearly the decoy to bring their guard down and they had fallen into it like fist class amateurs.

"Who is in charge of this case?" he asked Pike with a mouth full of taco.

"James Potter."

"The fuck?" Half his taco slid off to his plate. "He's not even here," Harry complained as he sucked his greasy fingers before scooping the innards of his taco and putting them in their rightful place.

Pike passed him the crisps that shone with grease and were speckled with spice.

"His lackeys are keeping him up to date by owl because it's one of his kids' birthday," Pike explained.

"An attempt against the highest power in the country in his own home and he couldn't be assed to be here?" In his time as an Auror that wouldn't be accepted even if it was your own mother's funeral that day. No wonder Martinez and Pike didn't feel safe leaving Riddle alone for the night.

"I know. Peace times, man. Things are so relaxed. Martinez might retire early. That's how much he hates it."

"For his heart, I hope he does. I'm glad I retired."

"I still like it, for all the bullshit there is. Where else would I get my laughs?"

Auror work was not as glamorous as people made it out to be. Dark Wizards generally went about their lives without making much of a fuss. Maybe once a year, at most, a dark wizard would do something worthy of Aurors being called. The rest of the time it was ordinary wizards and witches getting into unusual circumstances and often because of sex, love, and jealousy. Hogwarts did a piss poor job of preparing him for the real world.

"And you inserted your wand where?" Harry joked in fond remembrance at one of the most popular questions as an Auror.

Pike cleared his voice and adopted a serious tone, "To recap, you and your partner decided to have sex on top of the boiling potion to get high on the fumes, is that correct? And then he fell and died?"

Harry laughed and leaned forward so that only Pike could hear him and adopted his most professional voice, "To clarify Mrs. Fisher, your husband's partial human-to-octopus transfiguration was on purpose?... And you wanted to do what with those tentacles?"

Pike exploded laughing, dropping back on the chair and almost dropping his plate. Harry grabbed it before it hit the floor. He had been so innocent when he first started the job. So naive. A precious baby. He quickly learned to control his facial expression while on the job.

Martinez turned to frown at them disapprovingly. Both of them ignored him. Pike wasn't working and Harry was happily retired and living his golden years with new knees. Riddle on the other hand looked like he was John Wick and they had killed his dog. Harry silently offered crisps from his plate which he thought was a sufficient apology for laughing out loud on a crime scene. Riddle did not accept and kept acting like the human form of darkness.

"What bit his ass?" Harry complained to Pike. The whole room was walking on eggshells around the man.

Pike looked at him long and hard. "Potter, you are one dumb motherfucker. Thank god you are pretty."

"You think I'm pretty?" Harry asked loudly just to be an ass before exploding in cackles.

"Who thinks you are pretty, Potter?" Someone shouted from the other side of the room.

"Pike," Harry shouted back. Pike hid his face in his hands and groaned as a loud debate on Harry's prettiness started that Martinez promptly shut off but not before frowning at the Auror that said that Harry was average at best.

Harry was considering whether he really should eat that fifth taco or not since he was full. He decided he should. No sense in wasting good food.

"Potter, aren't you leaving?" Regulus Black asked when the interviews were over and the Auror's were packing up. Everyone not so subtly stopped and listened to what Harry had to say.

"Nop. I still have some papers to finish up and Mr. Riddle wants them done by tonight."

He got a few sympathetic pats on the back, and "man that's rough," and "after what you witnessed? You should be able to take a day off at least."

He felt Riddle's mind at the blatant lie and he easily shared his monologue-like thoughts on the incompetency of the Auror Department, their mismanagement of this case, part of the conversation with Pike and Martinez (heavily edited to just include the possibility of an inside job), and a few lively words on the likelihood of James Potter's theory of this being the end of the assassination attempts.

Riddle showed him an avalanche of images that Harry had no hope of ever deciphering. Individually yes, he could see familiar things but what they meant as a conversation? no. Harry shook off Riddle off his mind to avoid the migraine. Thankfully the connection was getting weaker as Harry wasn't feeding it and it had only been superficial at best. Nothing like it was when it was Voldemort, not that Riddle had anything to compare it to. This is more akin to talking on the phone through a private line and with Voldemort it had been two bodies sharing one mixed soul.

The Aurors, Martinez, and Pike left and only Riddle's inner circle stayed in the kitchen for a "meeting". Harry used the time to nap sitting on the living room couch. He hadn't planned on napping but the moment he was alone and without distractions he crashed. Riddle was probably safe within such a large group. When the screams started he opened one eye and raised his head from the sofa to check if Riddle was fine. Riddle was fine so Harry went back to sleep and ignored the screams that were soon cut off when a sound dampening bubble was cast. He was woken up as people milled the living room to use the floo.

"Still staying?" After that? Black asked with a raised eyebrow. Harry yawned and nodded.

"Things to do."

"I'm sure you have things to do tonight," Lestrange leered. Harry let it slide. It was a good alibi as any.

Riddle hesitated at the entrance of the living room after everyone left. Carefully he approached Harry. Harry raised an eyebrow in silent question at the odd behavior and defensive positioning. Like Riddle was expecting a hit and bracing himself. Shoulders tight, hands clasped behind his back, blank face. "Are we good?"

Harry frowned. Why was he asking...? Then Harry realized. "I'm sorry about not telling you about the salmon. I can eat it, but I don't love it," Or like it. Fine, he hated it. "I should've told you."

Riddle's face showed confusion for a moment before clearing it. With renewed confidence, Riddle approached the couch and sat a careful distance beside Harry.

"Yes, you should have. But I also should've realized. You've told me enough times about going late to lunch and the reason. I just...wasn't paying attention."

Harry closed his eyes again now that the problem was solved and relaxed against the sinfully soft couch. "You don't pay attention because you don't eat unless you are close to starvation. And even then you try to tea it away first."

"...so you are fine? Everything is fine?"

Harry opened his eyes and turned to Riddle at the odd insistence. "Well, it's going to be better once this whole," Harry made vague gestures encompassing Riddle's assassination attempts, "thing is done and over. I need time to finish my thesis and this is seriously eating my time."

Harry will make damn sure no other assassin makes it this close to Riddle ever again. He'll just quietly solve the problem with no one the wiser. Leaving it to official channels to just have to do it himself in the end because the Aurors were a disorganized mess was just a waste of time. Next time, Riddle wouldn't even know because if Riddle knew he would want to investigate, and then Harry's workday would double. He wasn't dealing with the hassle a second time.

"You don't have to stay Harry. I understand your worry, but I'll be fine."

"You want me to leave?" Harry wouldn't make the man uncomfortable in his own home. If Riddle wanted him gone he'd go and... camp outside. He still needed Riddle alive for his apartment.

"I don't want to offend, Harry... but I'm not particularly clear on how you intend to help me in a fight."

Harry snorted in amusement. Right, he was what he always wanted to be... just Harry. He had no reputation and no one expected him to know how to duel. It was...strange and new. Not as glorious as he expected it to be since he was used to a certain level of respect for his skill but not bad. Not bad at all. He was not expected to solve every damn problem and it was peaceful. Lonely, but peaceful.

"I don't particularly plan to help unless you need it." Like really really needed. "Think of me as an expensive phone holder that drinks your wine. In case of an emergency, I'll break out the wine and call someone." Probably in that order.

Riddle took a step forward. "That's not needed, Harry. It's more likely you'll get hurt than me."

"I'll be fine," Harry easily dismissed, "I just want you to have some backup in case you need it." After seeing Riddle's skill, Harry knew that his presence was not needed. But even the best need backup in case things went south.

"I can call someone else to stay over," Riddle insisted.

"Then the assassin won't do it tonight because they'll know you are aware. And we'll have to do this song and dance another night and I'd really prefer to have this wrapped up before the concert."

"But they'll do it while you are here?" Riddle asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah, why not? I'm harmless and I have a reason that is not related to your safety to be here. At least... I hope that I don't scare them off?" Harry almost asked, unsure.

Riddle looked at him seriously. "Harry, you wouldn't scare off a kitten."

Harry laughed at Riddle's unexpected honesty. "Excellent," he said joyfully, "So they'll do it sooner rather than later because the longer they wait the longer you have to figure it out."

"And you won't tell me who it is?"

Harry smiled and closed his eyes and did not respond. Riddle has always been blind about the loyalty of his followers; takes it for granted. Even a dog betrays a master that beats it.

"Then go to bed, you are dead on your feet."

Harry opened his eyes in confusion. "You have a guest room?" He hadn't seen it but with magic, spaces could be altered.

"No, my room."

Harry opened his eyes and sat up quickly. "Share a bed?" he asked incredulously. "Are you crazy? You are my boss."

Riddle opened and closed his mouth a few times before he managed to speak. "Really? This is the line you choose not to cross?"

"I'm your assistant. It's crazy inappropriate to be found in bed with the boss."

Riddle looked at him as if he couldn't believe what was coming out of Harry's mouth. "...you offered sex. Multiple times, might I recall. This is just sleeping."

"Yeah, in the past. And you said no so we are over that. Besides, I said it is inappropriate to be found in bed with the boss." Harry had no plans past, present, or future to be found in bed with the boss and that is what would happen when Aurors barged in after a (hopefully) unsuccessful attempt. He was a private man and did not enjoy his sex life or presumed sex life being public.

Riddle frowned. "I did not say no."

"It wasn't an enthusiastic yes so in my book that is a no."

"What sense does it make that you stay over at my house and not sleep in my bed? That's the alibi."

"It's the alibi with your close group but not with the Auror force. With them, you are leaving me in the living room working all night because you are a sadistic bastard. Way more believable."

"Harry, you can't be in the living room. I can't protect you there. You are exhausted and the killer would easily kill you in your sleep before going to my room."

"Don't worry about me. I'm a light sleeper."

"Harry, go to bed or go home."

Harry thought about it seriously. Sleeping beside someone you wanted to have sex with but weren't sounded awkward. Like staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep, hearing his breaths awkward. In the end, the thought of going into that apartment with leaky, craked ceilings, no kitchen to speak of, no food, no hot water, neighbors screaming was enough of a deterrent.

And Riddle was kind of ok.

Whatever.

He didn't want the man to die, sue him. The Wizarding World was sort of oka-ish too with him in charge, which is leagues better than the dystopian hell it was with other politicians in charge. And Harry might have a slight crush. Not that that had anything to do with it. It's just, the man was ok and no need for him to die.

"Fine," Harry agreed with a frown, "We can say you had me standing in the room to use as a meat shield."

"No one would believe that."

"As always, you are underestimating the terror you inspire." Wasn't he just torturing someone? He was delusional if he thought people didn't know.

"Do I inspire fear in you?" Riddle asked with a tilted head. "No, I don't," Riddle answered himself after a moment of looking at Harry intently, "I realize that now. Come, I have some old clothes I can lend you."

"That's alright. I can sleep like this."

"Harry...you are not touching my bed with day clothes."

"I can sleep in a chair in your room."

"Bed or go."

Harry sighed in defeat. "You have a spare toothbrush?"

Riddle smiled and fuck him, it was an adorable smile. Evil people shouldn't have adorable, fond smiles. Particularly when they were close enough to touch in a dimly lit living room. Harry wasn't a saint, ok?

"I have a new one. Bought it just this week." Harry could bet this week's salary that it will be the same toothbrush he has at his apartment, make, model, and color. When Harry made no move to leave the couch, Riddle said, "You never did finish your cup of wine. Want some now?"

"God yes."

Riddle got up and brought wine and two new glasses and sank back down beside Harry close enough that their shoulders bumped. The living room was dark but the light from the kitchen and the stores on the street gave enough light. The view of the street below and the people milling around the stores was calming. Riddle served him a glass and served himself one. Harry relaxed back to enjoy the view.

"You know, at first, I thought you loved me."

Harry almost spat the wine. He turned in surprise to Riddle. "What? When?!"

"When you saved me from the demon."

Harry frowned in confusion. "Why?!"

"You seemed to know everything about me. At a glance, you could tell that the person that wore my face wasn't me. You told me it wasn't my smile, or my posture, or the way I talked. I thought you were in love with me," at Harry's startled face, Riddle smiled sardonically. "In hindsight, a stupid conclusion. But I didn't know then that you could have told the same thing to Greta from first floor," Riddle said with a touch of bitterness.

"When did you realized I didn't love you?" Harry asked curiously trying to remember if there was a point that Riddle started treating him differently.

"It took me longer than I care to admit."

Harry was baffled. "Did I say or do something that led you on? I think I told you I preferred to be bodily mutilated before going with you to a party at Malfoy Manor. What part of that was ambiguous?"

Riddle's lips twitched. "I remember. I thought you were being funny."

Harry laughed. He couldn't not laugh. "I was being deadly serious. I literally wanted nothing from you."

"I thought you were playing hard to get. Trying to make yourself seem more interesting. It's a thing with some people. They pretend to be aloof and disinterested but it's just that...pretend."

"So? When was it?" Harry prodded when Riddle did not continue.

Riddle drank his wine and looked out the window as he thought.

"I'm not sure. It was a slow realization. As I got to know you better it just clicked that you were not pretending to be disinterested. By the second week of having breakfasts, I knew I could walk out and never speak to you again and you wouldn't care."

"I would have cared." It even sounded weak to Harry's ears.

Riddle scoffed. "About the coffee."

"...yes, to be fair at that point the coffee was a major selling point but you are a great conversationalist." And Harry found it endlessly fascinating to know a sane Tom Riddle. To find out small, meaningless details about a man that haunted his past, like how he eats his eggs. Tom Riddle, who once became Lord Voldemort and wanted Harry Potter dead, liked poached eggs. It fascinated Harry. He wished he could tell Hermione and Ron these things.

"That's another infuriating thing about you."

"Another?" Harry asked in amused bafflement taking another long sip from his glass. He felt he needed more alcohol in his system for this conversation. "There's a list?" he asked curiously.

"I hadn't had that much trouble impressing someone in decades but wow are you hard to impress."

"Really? I've always found you impressive. The whole Overlord thing is neat."

"Neat," Riddle repeated deadpanned. "It's neat. I am the highest authority of the British Magical Community, unchallenged for decades and you find it...neat. I have heard you be more effusive to the lunch lady."

"Nicole makes the best chicken and I feel she is not recognized enough for her service," Harry defended.

"Noted."

"What happened next?"

"Well, I then made the mistake of thinking we were friends... but then I saw you with your friends. You are different with them."

"Everyone is different with their best friends," Harry easily dismissed.

"Are they?"

"Yes, best friends get the raw, unfiltered version of yourself."

"And who is the raw, unfiltered Harry Potter?"

Harry laughed. "Surprisingly boring."

"I doubt that."

"My biggest ambition right now is moving," Harry challenged.

"You are on the brink of inventing a ritual that could revolutionize rune magic forever. Having the solution to any problem in seconds... it's fiction at this point and you have a workable idea on how to do that."

"And yet, it is that full kitchen with a functioning sink that has my heart and mind."

"We are soon going to Atlantis, possibly the first humans that have seen the city in ten thousand years. And if your theory is right, meet whatever became of them."

"True. That's exciting, but defending my thesis will be a nightmare when everyone and their dog will want to say it's either fake or not really Atlantis but some other ancient city. I should have stuck with an easy subject and left Atlantis as a side project."

"...Atlantis as a side project," Riddle repeated. "At least I'm not the only one that has trouble impressing you."

Harry snorted in amusement and they fell into an easy silence. Harry finished his cup and Riddle re-filled his glass before the conversation continued.

"You were good today."

Harry looked at Riddle with confusion.

"The proposal," Riddle clarified. "It might get passed. You did good."

Harry snorted. "It was not hard to look good in comparison. You need to hire people for that sort of thing. Lestrange was talking to a vegan witch about dragon hunting. She looked close to passing out. And Snape talked for half an hour about the uses of slug slime to a poor Ambassador. I felt his will to live wither by minute ten. Lavender is the witch you need for that sort of negotiation. She's brilliant with people."

"I have you now. I don't need anyone else."

"You got lucky today. I'm terrible with new people, but Mrs. Ito carried the conversation and my dead weight"

Riddle laughed and served himself more wine. "Asami Ito had to jump through hoops before you deigned to even look at her. I don't think she is used to her beauty or her reputation not doing all the work for her."

"She's nice."

"Nice? I don't think the word has ever been used to describe her."

"She's going to help me with my ritual."

"After you saved her son's life by nonchalantly writing it the cure on a napkin after they asked you once on a whim. It's the least she can do. Anyone else in your position would have asked her servitude for at least fifteen years."

Harry frowned. "People suck."

"You really have no ambition. You could have asked her any amount of money or favors and you asked nothing."

Harry used to have ambition. The hat thought so at least. But now...Harry was content just being. "The things I want, I have. Or I am in the process of obtaining."

"So you've said. You are happy being a tree on stage," Riddle said with distaste.

Harry laughed and agreed. "Or an interesting side character. Life is easier that way."

Harry finished his second glass and got up with the empty wine bottle to put them both in the kitchen. Riddle followed him there and silently led Harry through a dark hallway and the master room. Riddle didn't bother with lights and Harry could follow Riddle even blindfolded. Riddle opened a cabinet and passed him a new toothbrush. Harry did not even pretend to be surprised that it was the same toothbrush he had at home, just took it and started brushing his teeth while Riddle went back to the room and came back with clean clothes that he put on the counter and left. Harry changed, left the bathroom, and all but threw himself to the bed.

"Oh my god." Harry rolled over and hid his face in the pillows. "What's this mattress made of? What are these sheets made of? And where can I get them?"

"They are one thousand galleon sheets and twenty thousand galleon mattress."

"Damn. Heaven is expensive," Harry slurred, his face pressed against a sinfully soft pillow. He didn't even hear Riddle get to bed before he was passed out. In the end, Riddle was right, Harry doesn't hear or see the intruder until he is jolted awake by a scream of rage.

N/A

I'm not saying this will have all the tropes, but it will have most of the tropes. Did I make Clueless/Oblivious Harry right? And that he is an unreliable narrator? Like it was not the salmon, my dear sweet summer child. Tell me what you think. I have 12hour shifts that are better spent reading reviews.