AN: Thanks to everyone who read/followed/favorited and special thanks to everyone who reviewed! KaneWolfe wow! thank you so much for all your reviews! I'm so glad you're enjoying this story and I'm glad you like Ginny :D LightofEvolution Thank you! :) I'm so glad you're enjoying this story and I hope you like this chapter! AngelinaWeasley1 thank you so much! This is my first fic, so your comments mean so much to me!

So this chapter is longer than I originally planned, and also slightly anachronistic with the other two chapters, but what can I say, Harry's been busy! Sorry to put off Draco for another chapter, but for now I'm sticking with rotating their viewpoints in order. Please, please review! It means so much!

Enjoy!

Changing Scenery

Chapter 5: Information

After Malfoy's visit on Monday morning, Harry spent the rest of the day on the paperwork for his case. With his statement, Harry was able to finally move forward on finalizing the charges against Dunham – the man who had taken Malfoy prisoner. It was a long process with copious amounts of paperwork. After spending the rest of Monday and all of Tuesday on it, he could easily see why Hermione hated it – not that he'd ever really liked it.

On Wednesday at the end of the day, after spending the day going through paperwork for various other cases, he went down to the holding cells in the Department of Mysteries to question Dunham again. The man had been annoyingly reticent and Harry had quite a few questions he wanted answers to.

Once he'd descended to the DoM, he walked along the black-tiled corridors until he reached Dunham's holding cell. He nodded at the Unspeakable guarding the door, who let him in after a quick spell to verify his identity.

Dunham was sitting on a cot in the corner and looked up at Harry's entrance. He sniffed. "Back again?"

Harry took a deceptively relaxed pose leaning against the wall by the door. "Dunham."

Harry noted that he seemed to have gotten thinner even in the week that he'd been in holding; although the law enforcement had undergone major reordering after the war, prisoners still didn't get huge meals. Otherwise, he was unremarkable. Pale brown hair fell limply over a round face with dull brown eyes. He was pale bordering on pasty and just this side of portly. Harry wouldn't have given him a second look on the street if Dunham hadn't reminded him uncomfortably of a younger version of Peter Pettigrew.

"Come to ask more questions?"

Harry flicked his eyes up to Dunham's face. "Oh no, just dropping by. Checking on prisoners is part of the job." He kept his tone relaxed and his face calm.

Dunham sneered, but it didn't have near the aristocratic edge that Malfoy's had that made him look so attractive even with his lip curled.

Why am I thinking about Malfoy's attractiveness right now?

"Maybe they just don't give the precious Harry Potter real field work. I noticed you weren't on the front line." Dunham sneered again.

"Were you expecting me?" Harry asked mildly.

He scoffed. "Of course not. You're far too precious to the Ministry to put in danger."

Harry resisted the urge to snort. He didn't want to offend Dunham so much he stopped talking, not when he was finally doing more than glaring. The DoM would do that to people, though. "So I'm only good for office work?"

"Of course. You were never good for much, even during the war."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "I didn't know they gave out Orders of Merlin for doing nothing."

"They gave you that Order because they needed a hero. Someone for people to adore. And they adore you. You're nothing special. A paper pusher. The Boy-Who-Lived, good for nothing but filling out forms. Bet your parents would be so proud of you."

Harry kept his expression neutral, even though the words hurt more than he expected. "I imagine they'd be proud of other things," was all he said in reply.

Dunham laughed in a wheezing, unhealthy way. "Anyone can step in front of a Killing Curse. You didn't do anything useful. Anything impressive. You never did any real magic."

Harry shrugged, although he was interested in the way he'd phrased that. "I think the papers would argue differently."

"They would, wouldn't they? Makes a good story, with your parents, and that scar." Dunham threw a hand toward his head in a gesture that was barely controlled. "They don't care to look at the work us ordinary people do. The people without the special stories and the Orders of Merlin."

Now we're getting somewhere. "Lots of people besides me fought in the war."

Dunham bared his teeth. "The war. The war! As if that's all that matters!" He stood up and started pacing.

Harry kept his place against the wall, but he did slip his wand into his hand so it would be easy to use in case he needed to Stun him.

"The war scared everyone away from any magic that wasn't squeaky clean." He paced faster.

"I don't think Dumbledore was squeaky clean," Harry said dryly.

"But he died! When people die, they're martyrs. Now that he's dead it doesn't matter if he wasn't the paragon everyone thought he was. But because of that stupid war, no one will consider anything but harmless magic "good." Everything in the grey area is vilified. It doesn't matter if it's personal. Doesn't harm anyone. It's not dangerous. Should be fine. Should've been fine."

Harry wondered if Dunham were becoming unhinged.

"But you wouldn't leave it alone! Just had to keep poking around. I was so close! I just needed more time. A little more time. Just a little. It would've worked. And it wasn't bad. But no, because of that stupid war!" On the last two words he turned on Harry.

With the reflexes of war and training, Harry flicked his wand at Dunham, the nonverbal spell knocking Dunham backward toward the bed. After a quick levitating spell to get him fully onto the bed, Harry knocked on the cell door.

The Unspeakable to a quick look through the grate and then opened the door. He checked Harry's identity again before nodding and letting him out. Harry nodded in return and then started back up to the DMLE.

Even though he never noticed the chill when he was in the Department of Mysteries, Harry felt distinctly warmer once he was back upstairs. He returned to his office to think about his conversation with Dunham. He noted down some of the important details, intending to discuss it later with Hermione.

His thoughts were interrupted by a note winging into his forehead and then dropping onto his desk. The major complaint of everyone who worked at the Ministry was the spell used to be able to send notes and memos from person to person and department to department. It was incredibly useful, but the little paper airplanes they took the shape of unfailingly aimed for the center of one's forehead. Most people used a minor shield charm to keep from having a permanent red mark. Harry usually had one, but in his distraction he'd forgotten to replace it after his trip to the DoM.

He grimaced and rubbed the spot where it had hit before opening the folded paper.

Potter,

Meeting in my office. Ten minutes.

-Robards

It was short and to the point. Harry cast a quick Tempus and was displeased to note that it was already after six. He didn't usually leave the office until after seven, but it was irritating to be called in for a meeting after the work day had already ended.

He finished writing up his thoughts and then made the short walk to Robards' office.

He knocked on the open door before walking in.

"You wanted to see me, sir?"

Robards looked up and waved him into a seat. "Come in. Yes, I did."

Harry closed the door and then took a seat and waited while Robards seemed to gather his thoughts with the unnervingly direct stare he'd mastered.

"How is the Malfoy case coming?"

Harry resisted the urge to raise an eyebrow. Was that what he was being called in for? "It's fine. I just spoke to Dunham, and I think I'm finally getting somewhere on figuring out his motives."

Robards nodded. "Excellent."

When he didn't seem inclined to say anything else, Harry spoke up again. "Is there something wrong? I didn't think there was a rush on the case."

Robards was silent for another moment before sighing. "Not from me, there isn't. Lucius Malfoy has decided to make himself a nuisance."

Harry leaned back in his chair and nodded. "I see."

"He isn't the man he used to be, of course, and Kingsley has no patience for him. Unfortunately, he still has enough influence among those friends of his to make life difficult if he wanted to."

Harry didn't have to ask to know that he meant the purebloods. And despite the war, purebloods still held influential positions at the Ministry and at the Daily Prophet. "What does he want?"

Robards rolled his eyes. "For this case to go away as quickly and as quietly as possible. I assume he doesn't want it on the record that the precious Malfoy blood isn't so pure as they've made it out to be. Regardless, he wants this case closed and quickly."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "He knows that it has to go to trial, doesn't he?"

"He's demanded a closed trial, on behalf of his son. However, because Draco is of age, and Lucius was stripped of his title as Head of the family, he's the one, or his lawyer, who has to make the official request." Robards looked at Harry with exasperation clear on his face. "So expect a visit from that slimy lawyer of his, or maybe even the man himself, in the next few days."

Harry considered that for a moment. Although Draco didn't seem eager to be there, he hadn't seemed particularly anxious to have it done and over with, and he'd walked in there with his wings on display as well, and what nice wings they were. But the Auror Office was discreet and no news about the case, or Malfoy's status as a Veela, had yet reached the press. "Perhaps it would be better as a private trial anyway."

Robards leaned forward. "Why's that?"

"Because I think, although I'm not sure yet, that Dunham was working on a way to turn himself into a Veela."

Robards frowned. "That's impossible."

Harry shrugged. "I thought so too, but he seemed to believe he was close. I was going to talk to Hermione Granger about it and see if she had any insight."

"Granger. She's head of the Department of Magical Creatures, isn't she?"

Harry nodded.

"Yes. Good idea. And I see your point. Don't want other people getting the idea to take up where he left off." Robards had always been quick on the uptake. It was the reason he was such a good Head Auror.

Harry nodded.

"Fine. Write up anything you or Granger find in your report. Try to have it to me by next week."

"I'm not sure if I'll have answers that soon. We may need to study the books he was using, or something else."

Robards sighed. "Very well. Take the time you need, but do hurry. I hate Lucius Malfoy breathing down my neck."

Harry fervently agreed with that feeling. "I'll do my best, sir. And do I have permission to discuss the particulars of the case with Hermione?"

"Of course. Have a good night, Potter." Robards waved his wand to open the door.

"Sir."

Harry walked slowly back to his office and then mindlessly began to pack up the papers he wanted to take home. The conversation with Robards, although interesting, wasn't what was occupying his mind. Instead, all he could think about was Malfoy, and not even Lucius. No, Draco Malfoy seemed to be taking up an inordinate amount of space in his thoughts lately. Normally, cases didn't follow him home. He made sure of it. Now, he went to sleep at night thinking about Malfoy and those damned wings of his. He's not that compelling and you've seen attractive people before. Sure, he's filled out in all the right ways, and he looks like he's kept fit, and those wings are bloody gorgeous and… Stop!

Harry shook his head forcefully as though that would clear the picture of Draco – Malfoy – standing on the bed with his wings flared, looking down his nose at them, from his mind. It didn't.

Annoyed, he grabbed his now-full briefcase and made his way to the Atrium to Floo home. Although he would normally have Apparated, he wasn't sure he wouldn't have Splinched himself with his mind as twisted up as it was. At this time of the evening, the end-of-day rush had already diminished and he didn't have to wait for a fireplace to clear before he was able to leave.

The next day, Harry dropped by Hermione's office earlier than he normally would have to pick her up for lunch.

He knocked on her door and waited for her to look up.

It took her a minute before she did. "Oh! Hello, Harry."

He took that as permission to come in and take a seat. "Morning, Hermione."

Hermione looked around for something on her desk before looking back at him, frowning. "Did we have plans for lunch today?"

Harry shook his head. "No, this is work-related, but I thought you might want to discuss it over lunch somewhere." He could see that she easily heard the words he hadn't said.

Hermione nodded. "Give me a minute."

Harry waited patiently while she packed up a few things, shuffled the papers on her desk, and then grabbed her cloak off the stand by the door. "Ready?" he asked, standing.

Hermione ran an absent hand over her hair in a way that was more perfunctory than purposeful. "Yes."

Together they took the lift down to the Atrium where they Apparated to Diagon Alley. Without speaking, they walked to the little café they usually went to for lunch. Once they'd taken a seat and given their orders to the friendly waitress, Harry started.

"I had a chat with Dunham yesterday."

Hermione's eyebrows went up. "You've had several of those. Was this one more productive? Did he finally say something?"

Harry's lip quirked. "You could say that. He finally talked about that ritual he was working, anyway."

Hermione leaned forward. "Really? Well what did he say?"

Harry rubbed a hand through his hair. "It mostly sounded like nonsense, and nothing specific, but I gathered that he thought he was very close to succeeding. He didn't say exactly what he was trying to accomplish, but I think he thought it was "real" magic, whatever that means. He seemed impressed with himself, between the lunatic rambling."

Hermione's mouth twisted. "I doubt anyone who thought they could turn themselves into a Veela is completely sane. But it's good that he didn't succeed."

"You think he could have?" Harry said incredulously.

The waitress came by and dropped off their food before Hermione could respond. Once they'd both taken a few bites, she answered.

"I don't know whether it's possible, although I don't think it is. I've never read anything about it. But I'd love to get a look at those books, if for nothing else than to try to figure out what he thought he was doing. Creating new spells is tricky, and if they involve magical creatures they're even trickier."

Harry frowned. "Because of the inherent magic?"

Hermione nodded enthusiastically. "Exactly. Creatures like Veela have magic of their own, in addition to wizarding magic, and it causes all kinds of interference. Not with ordinary spells, mind you, but anything having to do with their magical core. That's why making wands is so difficult. It mixes wizarding magic with inherent magic embedded in the wand cores."

Harry shook his head. "I'll take your word for it. But Robards did give me the go-ahead to let you take a look at the case files and the evidence. He wants to know, and I do as well, how close Dunham actually was, or whether he was just spouting nonsense. Can you take a look?"

"Of course! It'll have to be this weekend because I've got paperwork that I have to work on, including some for this case." She looked sheepish, as though she felt guilty about having to work.

Harry didn't want her to feel guilty. "That's no problem at all! You still have a job of our own. It'd be awful if you got fired before you could resign," he joked.

Hermione smiled. She has a nice smile. Which is totally normal to notice about a friend. I am not staring at her mouth.

"So I'll drop by this weekend?" Harry asked, wondering why he felt warm all of a sudden. He would not tug at his robes like a fidgety teenager.

Hermione nodded. "Sounds good. Sunday would be better because I'll be working at the home on Saturday."

"Perfect. I'll owl you before I come over."

They both finished eating before heading back to the Ministry and parting ways.

After another long day on Thursday – although he'd at least gotten out of the office to go break up a brawl in Knockturn Alley – he was very much looking forward to a hot shower and some time to relax when he got home.

He'd just finished his shower when someone knocked on the door of his flat. Since he had heavy wards up that were undisturbed, he knew that the person was almost certainly a friend, but he took his wand with him anyway.

When he opened the door and was nearly bowled over by someone with long red hair, he remembered that he was only in a towel. When Ginny, for it could be no one else, pulled back, she had a distinct twinkle in her eye.

"I did miss the sight of you in a towel," she teased. She winked at him before sauntering into living room and plopping onto his couch.

Harry rolled his eyes and went into his bedroom. He changed into sweatpants and a t-shirt before going back out to greet Ginny properly.

"Nice to see you again, Gin," he said, smiling. He took a seat in the armchair.

Ginny grinned at him. "Lovely to see you, Harry."

"I saw the Harpies did well. Ron and I made it to the game against the Canons."

Ginny laughed. "Probably the only one you could convince him to go to."

Harry shrugged, although she wasn't wrong. "You played brilliantly."

"Thanks!" Her grin lit up her whole face.

"Did they renew your contract?" he asked.

"Yes!" Ginny exclaimed. "For three more years!"

"That's fantastic, Ginny."

"I know," she said. Her attempt at smugness was ruined by the genuine happiness she exuded.

"So what brings on this unexpected visit?"

"Well it's not my fault that you answered in your towel, is it?" Ginny retorted.

Harry gave her a look. "Well you didn't exactly send an owl."

Ginny waved a hand. "I only got back a couple days ago. I wanted to see my favorite Wizarding Savior." She blinked her eyes at him.

Harry scowled, even though he knew she was joking. "I hate that name."

"I know," she said, pleased.

Harry rolled his eyes again. If anything, Ginny had always felt a little more like a little sister than a girlfriend. It was part of the reason they'd broken up not long after she'd graduated from Hogwarts. She'd admitted that some of it had been hero-worship on her part and they'd parted amicably.

"So how are you?" Ginny asked, interrupting his thoughts.

Harry smiled. "I'm good. Being an Auror isn't quite as exciting as it used to be, of course, but it's nice not to be chasing down Death Eaters every other week."

Ginny nodded sympathetically. "I can imagine."

"Things did pick up a little when they started giving us some cases from the Magical Law Enforcement Patrol. They were swamped and half our Aurors were sitting at their desks doing nothing." Harry shrugged. He didn't really like breaking up domestics, but it was something to do.

"So you get to rescue kittens and stop people from shouting in the street?" Ginny looked amused.

"It's a glamorous life," Harry said dryly.

"Sounds like it," Ginny said, laughing. "And everyone else?"

"Good, really good. Ron's helping with the preparations for the next World Cup. Luna just got back from a trip to Romania for The Quibbler."

"What about Hermione?" Ginny asked, kicking her feet up onto the coffee table. Harry was glad to see that she'd taken her shoes off.

For some reason, he blushed. Maybe because you were thinking about kissing her earlier? Er, not kissing. Just her mouth. Wrapped around – No! Just how nice her smile is! Yeah, her smile. He cleared his throat. "She's good. We meet for lunch a few times a week."

Ginny leaned toward him in a way that was nearly predatory. "Why are you blushing? Do you like Hermione? Are you seeing her? And you didn't tell me!"

Harry ran a hand through his hair, desperately trying not to think about anything to do with seeing her. "No! Not at all. Haven't you gone to see her yet? Surely you could ask her how she's doing."

"I'm seeing her tomorrow, actually," Ginny said, an infuriating smile on her face.

Harry frowned. "We are not seeing each other, Ginny."

"Oh, of course," she replied airily.

Harry squinted at her as if that would make her thoughts clear. But he'd never been much good at reading her. He sighed. "You're not going to let this go." It was a statement.

Ginny smiled and leaned over to pat his cheek. "I think you'd make a great couple."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Ginny."

"Don't worry, I won't say anything to her. Anyway, you're both my friends and it's been ages since we all got together. Us girls are going out tomorrow, why don't you round up some of the boys and meet us at this club Parvati knows?"

He sighed thoughtfully. "I suppose that would be nice." He was pretty sure it was a set up, but it had been a while since they'd all gotten together. With Ginny off playing Quidditch, Luna in Romania, Neville at Hogwarts, and Seamus and Dean spending most of their time in Ireland. "Yeah, I'll send out some owls."

Ginny clapped her hands together. "Excellent! How about half ten? Have you got some parchment? I'll write down the address so you can Apparate or Floo."

Harry dug around until he'd produced a scrap of parchment and a self-inking quill. Ginny quickly jotted down an address that was only just legible, blowing on it to dry.

Harry read it over quickly before sending into the kitchen with a wave of his hand.

Ginny hopped up. "Well, it's been lovely to see you, and I'll see you tomorrow night, yeah?"

Harry stood as well. "Yeah. Nice seeing you too, Gin." He pulled her into a hug and he couldn't help but feel glad that they'd remained friends. Hugging Ginny was nice, but it wasn't like hugging Hermione.

I think of her as a sister! A sister! I do not think of Hermione as a romantic partner. Or a lover. Definitely not. And I am only looking forward to seeing her tomorrow as a friend. I do not want to see her that way. Or in a towel. Or naked.

Harry released Ginny a little quicker when he realized things were about to get very awkward.

"I'll see you tomorrow, then."

Ginny gave him a funny look before shrugging and Flooing home.

Harry took a deep breath. Maybe he needed to relax a different way than he'd planned.