The Morning After
Amara couldn't remember the last time she had enjoyed herself so much.
It took her a few songs to loosen up, during which the stranger seemed perfectly content to give her as much space as he could on the crowded dance floor. It took "Survivor" by Destiny's Child to bring out her worst dance moves and biggest smile. Ginny and Hermione made brief appearances, each with a follower or two of their own. Ginny gave her a devious smile and a thumbs up when she saw Handsome Stranger (HS for short), who Amara noticed glared slyly at the newcomers. After they left, the DJ played a song with a strong bass, strong enough to pulse through her body with every beat. She finally gave in, turning her back to HS's front, swaying her hips, one hand wrapped around his neck. He wrapped his hands around her hips in response and bent his head so it was closer to hers. She could feel his lips brushing her ear with each swing. It was exhilarating…
And now she could see why Ginny went out all the time.
His hands helped her figure out a rhythm in addition to pulling her ever so slightly closer to him. She couldn't stop smiling, giddiness flooding her brain.
He leaned over her a little more, and she could almost feel the grin on his lips as he spoke in her ear.
"Enjoying yourself?" His tone was slightly cocky and he didn't skip a beat in the music, smoothly changing their rhythm to match the slower beat of the new song.
Amara nodded, giggling and leaning more heavily against HS. She may not have been intoxicated by alcohol, but the carefree manner of all the other clubgoers was infectious.
It was at that moment Ginny stumbled up to them and tugged at Amara's arm, giggling. Hermione was not far behind, a little more steady on her feet but obviously slightly tipsy.
"We have to gooooo 'Mariiiiiiii," Ginny whined. "She," a very inaccurate wave to Hermione, "keeps bugging me about you guys having work tomorrow." She frowned at the woman in question behind her. "Party pooper."
Amara laughed and allowed the pair to start dragging her away from HS. She turned to wave goodbye when HS grabbed her hand and tugged her back to him, stilling her with one arm wrapped around her waist. His mouth brushed her ear again as he spoke to her.
"Next time you come by, go to the front and tell the bouncer that Hogwarts dungeons attract mermaids."
She blinked up at him. "That is the stupidest thing I've ever heard."
"No one has yet to guess it though." He shrugged with a sly smile before leaving her with Ginny still tugging at her.
"Ugh, Hermione, please tell me you have a pick-me-up potion." Amara stumbled into the kitchen, hand held to her temple and eyes squinting ahead of her.
"On the table! Hurry up, we don't need to be late."
Amara's' eyes skimmed over Hermione, already perfectly put together, robes clean and pressed. "Perfectionist," she mumbled around the mug of tea Hermione placed in front of her.
"Damn right," Hermione winked.
A downing of a potion and two cups of tea later, Amara was able to drag herself through her mornning routine. In twenty minutes, the pair strode out of one of the many fireplaces in the main atrium of the ministry.
"And you can't tell me anything about this, Hermione? Really?"
"Sorry, but even I don't know the full case." Hermione glanced at her watch and picked up her pace. "Harry just told me he needed help, and from what he told me, I recommended you."
"But why?" Amara laid a hand on Hermione's shoulder as they waited for an elevator. "Why could you possibly need a retired Auror, who is living among Muggles and has not raised a wand in battle in the last year?"
Hermione's lips thinned. "You'll see."
The rest of the walk to the office was silent. Amara's mind churned with the possibilities of why she could have been called as she mindlessly followed the click-clack of Hermione's heels ahead of her.
"Amara Stormwind." She looked up and smiled.
"Harry Potter." She held out a hand. "It's good to see you."
He chuckled and shook her offered hand. "I'm assuming I have you to thank for my very hung over wife this morning?"
"Trust me, Ginny got all of us piss drunk last night. Haven't partied that hard in the last two years."
With a slight smile he turned to Hermione and enveloped her in a hug. "And how's my favorite Healer?"
"Your wife administered some torture via makeup and tweezers, but I survived," Hermione laughed.
A comfortable silence washed over the trio.
"So Harry, why am I here? Hermione said you didn't tell her much about the case." Amara fiddled with her wand, twirling it nervously between her fingers.
"I feel that's a better question for the man who's case you're being assigned to." Gone was Harry's easy smile as his eyes breifly made contact with hers.
"And who exactly is that?"
"I do believe that would be me." Amara jumped at the sound of someone behind her, instictivly whipping her head around. Her wand pointed unwaveringly at the dark skinned man who had silently stood behind her. A man with a very familliar face. Her eyes narrowed.
"Zabini?"
"Hi, Stormwind."
There was a tense silence, broken by Harry closing the door and muttering a silence charm. "Blaise works as a consultant to the Auror department here at the Ministry. He's been helping us track down dark artifacts for the past few years."
Amara lowered her wand and gave Zabini a slight smile. "It's been a while. How have you been?"
His face broke into a wide grin. "Since the the Ministry won't hire any ex-Death Eaters, I went into the buisness industry. Earned some stakes in a few companies, sold them off, started my own business. Started loaning out some consultations to these blokes at the Ministry when I heard Potter's team almost offed themselves taking care of some artifacts in the pureblood community."
Harry looked slightly uneasy at Zabini's blunt statement. "You know I'd hire you for more than consultations in a heartbeat, Blaise. But the Ministry…"
Zabini's grin did not falter. He walked up to Harry and clapped a hand on his shoulder. "It's okay, Potter. Not like I'm suffering. We understood what we were doing when we took on the Mark, what it meant if we lost the war."
The mention of the mark brought another face to Amara's mind, one she had tried shaking off for the past four years.
"So, Zabini, why do you need me?" She spoke quietly, praying that the reason she was thinking was not what she would hear.
Zabini's eyes softened. "I think you have an idea, Amara."
"I haven't talked to him in four years, Zabini. And I think you remember what happened the last time we spoke. So I'll repeat myself: why do you need me?" Her eyes flashed as she looked up to the two men in front of her.
"I think there's a hit out on Draco."
"A hit. You think someone paid to have him killed?"
"That is generally what a hit means."
"Don't you sass me Zabini." She raised her wand and poked his chest with it. "There must be plenty more qualified people here if that's all this is. There was no need to pull me in all the way from America. Especially when you know exactly how he'd react to me."
Harry held up a hand. "Put the wand down, Amara. There's a reason Blaise requested you-"
"You requested me?" Amara threw her hands in the air and stalked to a chair. She sank down into it. "I thought Hermione suggested me." She shot a glare at her friend, who offered a slight grimace in return.
"I may have stretched the truth a little-" Hermione cut off at the sight of Zabini stepping forward.
"Do not blame Granger for her actions. I asked Potter to ask you here this way because I knew I would never get you here myself."
"Is this even Ministry business?" Amara asked, directing the question to Harry.
Harry rubbed the back of his neck, eyes darting to Zabini.
"Not exactly. More of a favor."
Amara's head dropped to her hands.
"We think the person who ordered the job works in the Ministry. Someone close to this Auror office if not a part of it. I need time to go through the list, to gather suspects. But I also need to protect Draco." Amara flinched at the second mention of his name.
"I would offer to protect him," Harry continued, "but I think that would annouce to whoever took the hit job that we are onto them. Then Blaise thought of you, especially with your Auror training and.. history… with Draco, we think you'd be the best choice."
"You'd come in under the guise of catching up with an old friend," Blaise offered.
"I don't think you could call us friends anymore, Zabini."
"No one else knows that, though."
Amara sighed. She looked up and met Zabini's pleading eyes.
"Please, Amara," he murmered, sinking down next to her chair. "He may not mean much to you, but he is my best friend, and I can't lose him."
She stood warily, eyeing Potter. "I can't do this for free. I need money for rent, food, clothes…"
Zabini stood up and stepped next to her. "That's where I come in. Since Potter has to make it look like you're not actually working here for the Ministry, I'll be handling you paychecks."
Amara cocked a hip and crossed her arms. "Then when do I start?"
A/N: Well, it's been a while. Let's see if anyone actually comes back to read this. Short chapter, but I'm trying to pick up where I left off and am sorting through notes to remember if there is somewhere this story is actually going. Lmk what you think in a review!