To Harry's disappointment, when he returned to his office, Severus had already left. Instead, he found Pansy deep in conversation with Parvati Patil, glasses of red in their hands. Photos of jewellery were fanned across the desk between them. In his absence, Pansy had made some changes to the office: the simple leather chairs were transfigured into velvet wingback ones, and the only free wall was adorned with an Indian-style tapestry. Within the circles and bigger elements creating the round floral pattern, every little detail was moving in synch, the circles slowly spinning in the opposite direction. Harry's head spun with them.
"—And then I snuck into the secret room behind the mirror in her boudoir while she was lying there all passed out—a terrifying experience, I tell you—and there they were! And not only your sets; entire cases of them!" Pansy was clearly on the roll, waving her free hand in agitation.
Parvati listened avidly to every word. "I wonder how many of those are stolen as well."
"The bitch has a thing for rubies, even though they look terrible on her with her complexion. Oh, hi, Potter."
"Harry!" Parvati turned to face him with a smile. "Pansy found those missing ruby earrings! I thought it was surely a lost cause after a year, but she found them in less than a month!"
After the war, the Patil twins had opened their own business, a jewellery store in the affluent part of London. A very popular store. Even the most complicated anti-theft charms didn't stop people from trying—and sometimes even succeeding—to steal from it regularly.
Pansy preened under the praise.
"Jewellery is Pansy's speciality," Harry said. He dragged a chair from his desk closer to Pansy's and straddled it, arms crossed on its back. "Has she told you about the diamond set she found in that creepy lip sofa from the Spanish museum?"
"I still say we should've kept it," said Pansy. "Being a teacher was a fun experiment, but it's so good to be back in the chase."
"I remember how good you were at Transfiguration back in school! I still cannot imagine you as a Hogwarts Professor, though." Parvati giggled, clearly tipsy already.
"Little blighters adored me. Even McGonagall recognised my teaching genius." Pansy raised her glass, toasting herself. Harry covered his snort with a cough. "What? Do you want to argue? Tread lightly here, Potter."
"Oh no, you were great."
"Damn right I was."
"I don't think they'll forget that experience any time soon, especially your—how did you put it?—carrot and stick approach." With some things, like the choice between grading younger years' homework for Pansy and listening to her life advice after classes for an hour, Harry wasn't exactly sure which was which.
"I put the fear of Merlin into them, didn't I?"
Parvati snickered, leaning back in her chair. "It's so strange how it all turned out," she said. "My fifteen-year-old self would never believe it if she saw us now."
"Oh?" Pansy asked, more on guard now.
"Yes! You partnering up with Harry, helping people. While some of our yearmates that I used to think highly of proved themselves to be not at all what they seemed."
"Who do you mean?" Pansy bounced in her chair, expecting some juicy gossip.
"Well, it's poor taste to speak ill of dead people." Parvati pursed her lips primly, even though she was clearly eager to share her story.
Pansy had no such qualms. "Is it about Daphne? She was always the bitch supreme behind that angelic exterior."
"Weren't you the... Anyway, yes, I mean Daphne Greengrass. I'd never had any close interactions with her, but she always seemed perfectly nice, if a bit arrogant. We have... had a lot of common friends in the industry, and they all thought her rather open-minded. And I've never missed an episode of The Witching Hour once in my life." Parvati paused and threw a careful look in Harry's direction as if expecting him to comment, but Harry had no idea what the Witching Hour even was.
With Pansy looking like she was stifling a laugh at his expense, Harry was torn between resolving to ask her what it was about later or cowardly let the sleeping hippogriffs lie. Some things, you were simply better off not knowing, and Harry had an inkling this was one of them.
"Anyway, she came to my store and spent half an hour ordering me about like I was a simple salesgirl on a summer job away from Hogwarts. Extremely rude. And just as she was leaving, Lavender came by and gave her a flyer for her charity. They are raising money for providing kids with lycanthropy with free Wolfsbane from reliable sources, you know. Ministry's brewers aren't the best, or maybe just don't want to make an effort, all while charging an arm and a leg for the subpar stuff." Parvati gave Harry a loaded look but didn't say anything further. "Greengrass said, and I quote, that 'half-breeds and mindless beasts didn't deserve a knut of her money' and all but threw the flyer in Lavender's face with a laugh, can you believe that?"
"She didn't!" said Pansy, suitably outraged. "I hope Brown taught her a lesson about werewolves and manners." At the beginning of their work together, she held a lot of those prejudices herself. These days, however, even if she voiced her old opinions occasionally, it was mostly for show and shock value. In reality, she doted on Teddy whenever Harry brought him to the work, and even participated in one of Lavender's rallies. Though the latter, as Harry suspected, was more so that she could shout insults and throw rotten eggs at the Ministry officials.
"It was a close call. You know Lav's temper nowadays, not that I blame her. But no, Greengrass left right after."
"Did she buy anything?" Harry asked. Pansy, who knew him much too well, threw him a curious look.
"Oh, an onyx necklace. A surprising choice, I'd think it would be way too massive for her taste."
"Do you by any chance have a photo of the necklace? From a catalogue, or something? It might be important for one of our current cases."
"Sure, Harry," Parvati said, intrigued. "I'll send it to you later today."
As soon as Parvati left, Pansy was all over him.
"Spit it out, Potter. What was that about Daphne?"
"Turn the chairs back first," Harry said, standing up. This was his one chance to get this over with quickly, while Pansy was curious and eager to hear the news, and he wasn't going to miss it. "And take down the tapestry too. I think it's trying to use Legilimency on me. Or at least make me sick."
"I shouldn't put up with your tyranny, Potter."
Harry, who had recently agreed on those ghastly green curtains she wanted instead of the blinds they used to have, just looked at her pointedly.
"Fine, fine." Pansy pouted but transfigured the chairs back.
Content, Harry flopped down on the chair Parvati had vacated, a sensible leather one. "The tapestry? At least stop it from moving."
"I put it up for Patil's sake. One of my six-year students gave it to me. She charmed it for her NEWT project," Pansy said, waving her wand at the tapestry. It slid from the wall and rolled up into a neat bundle. "One would think you of all people should know about the sentimental value of things."
"For Parvati, huh?" Harry looked at her questioningly. While Pansy kept on trying to make their office 'more dignified,' especially when some rich old pureblood client was coming, she had never added any personal details before.
"Don't try to change the subject," Pansy said as if she wasn't the one doing that. "Daphne. I bet this has something to do with your mysterious lunch appointment both Bill and your boyfriend refused to tell me about, am I right?" She'd kept referring to Severus as 'Potter's boyfriend' until he threatened to poison her booze. After that, she was careful not to call him that when he was in the earshot.
Since Pansy was going to suss everything out, sooner rather than later anyway, Harry help himself to a glass of wine and brought her up to speed.
"I've had a meeting with Astoria Greengrass today."
"Oh, really?" Pansy drawled. She despised Astoria with her whole being, for no other reason than being Draco Malfoy's fiancé. Seven years after their break-up, the ferret was still a touchy subject. Even after many years of their partnership and friendship, Harry still couldn't decide if the complicated feelings Pansy had for Malfoy were still a kind of love, or if she simply clung to her hurt and resentment towards him as safe and familiar. Probably a bit of both.
"She thinks there's something fishy about Daphne's death," he quickly continued before Pansy could deliver a tirade about all of Astoria's many and varied faults.
"That Euphoria Elixir or whatever she'd OD'ed on must have surely gone bad." Pansy rolled her eyes.
"It wasn't the Euphoria Elixir. It was the Party-Up—"
"Ha!"
"—and Remembrine. Remember that one from the Hutchinson case?"
"The potion to recover Obliviated memories?"
"Yeah, that one."
"It's not worth it, whatever the memory," Pansy said sharply. She was with Harry when he took it. He had only a hazy recollection of that night, but he'd never seen her that scared, before or after.
"And now Astoria thinks someone has been Obliviating her as well."
"Oh, that's precious. She decided to learn what made her sister desperate enough to try something like that damn potion only after she herself had been affected."
"I don't think they had the warmest of relationships," Harry agreed.
"You bet they didn't! I remember when Astoria came to Hogwarts in our third year. Following her sister like a calf. Daphne was embarrassed and soon put a stop to that. I don't think their sisterly bond ever recovered."
"That's harsh. Siblings act stupid all the time when they are thirteen," Harry said. Ron avoided being seen with Ginny like a plague throughout their Hogwarts years, and the twins thought the same about Ron. Now, Ron and George worked together, and their Quidditch get-togethers with Ginny, when she was away from the Harpies training camp, were legendary. On the other hand, Harry's own precarious relationship with Dudley only recently progressed to exchanging Christmas cards, and he still couldn't believe they made it that far.
"Daphne had always been a two-faced little bitch, just like her precious sister. But where Daphne fancied herself to be some sort of femme fatale, Astoria, the frigid cow, likes to put up a holier-than-thou facade of a wilting flower. That clash of personalities was just too strong," Pansy said. Suddenly, her face turned contemplative, and she absentmindedly took a sip from her glass.
"Don't even think about it," Harry said in warning.
"Think about what?" Pansy asked, much too innocently. She put her glass on the desk and reached to fiddle with a shark figurine.
"Don't approach Astoria under any circumstance. Or Malfoy, for that matter. I'm taking this case myself."
"Suit yourself, although it's much more up my alley. Just to think, you'll probably get to go to the Wizarding Fashion Week in Milan," Pansy's clasped her hands over her chest and let out a sigh of exaggerated envy. "And I know you just cannot wait to pour over the catalogue of her articles about make-up, hair care and robes. Maybe you'll even find and apply some long-overdue advice!" She burst into laughter. "Just look at your face! Yes, I can see how excited you are."
"Maybe I should've stayed a Hogwarts Professor," Harry grumbled, only half-joking. As much as he enjoyed being a private investigator, seeing students get the ropes of Defence under his tutelage was extremely satisfying.
"I'll have to take over Theo's case, then," Pansy said with a more serious tone. She must have sensed Harry's hesitation because her face grew stormy. "You know I'm perfectly capable to handle it, Potter."
"Of course you are." He raised placating hands. "It's just... It's a vile book, and I doubt that whoever took it has anything but trouble in mind. Dangerous trouble."
The book in question was Magick Moste Evile, and not just the heavily abridged version residing on the shelves of the Restriction Section in Hogwarts. No, it was a complete, uncensored edition with detailed practical instructions and Voldemort's annotations on the margins. Harry shuddered to think of who exactly could find the use for it and what that use might be.
"Whatever you think, you don't have the monopoly on dangerous trouble, you know. And just who saved you the last time you found yourself in it, eh?"
"You did, oh fearsome warrior goddess, the bane of all the thieves, cheating spouses, and Hogwarts students' existence."
"And don't you ever forget it. Although warriors are for Gryffindors. I always exercise utmost caution and avoid fights if I can help it, unlike some." Belying her words, Pansy looked very pleased. "Now tell me more about that Lodge of Darkness you've attended today. Finally! That must have been quite an experience. I've heard most scandalous rumours about it."
Harry sighed and poured himself some more of Pansy's wine.
The fire was crackling merrily in the fireplace as Harry curled up against Severus on the sofa. By the last month in Hogwarts, Harry had all but moved in with him in the dungeons. For the summer, however, Severus insisted on keeping things at Spinner's End, even though he spent most of his time between Grimmauld Place and the lab at P&P Investigative Services that they occasionally shared with Weasley's Cursebreaking.
In fairness, calling it a lab was a major overstatement. Before Severus forcibly evicted Harry on his very first visit and rearranged everything to his liking, it was more of a cramped storeroom with a couple of cauldrons in the middle. Here, Harry brewed not-quite-legal Polyjuice and a couple of other eyebrow-raising potions, those that weren't too difficult to make, anyway. He had a trusty and discreet supplier, but dealing with her was often more trouble than it's worth. That meant Harry had to apply the limited skills he had gotten from the Half-Blood Prince's textbook. Merlin knew Pansy was even more hopeless at Potions than he was, having dropped them after her OWLs. Over the years, Harry got the hang of brewing, if he said so himself, and expanded his repertoire of potions considerably, but it was never something he particularly enjoyed.
And according to Severus, he was doing everything wrong.
Severus threw out all the robes, old magazines, a broken coffee machine, and other junk that accumulated in the lab over time. He tweaked the lighting and ventilation spells, catalogued all the ingredients, finding most of them subpar, replaced half of the cauldrons and glassware and brought three times more. On top of all of this, he made a harassed Dennis Creevey scrub everything that was left without magic.
Dennis was actually Bill and Fleur's apprentice and employee, even if he himself often forgot about it with the way Pansy shamelessly ordered him around, so Harry bravely volunteered to do the cleaning himself. Severus, however, in no uncertain terms kicked him out of the lab and forbade him entry completely. Apparently, Dennis had a knack for potions and got an O for his NEWTs, so he proceeded to assist Severus with some complicated potions Bill and Fleur commissioned—and with replenishing Harry's stock. Not for the first time, Harry wondered guiltily if he should pay Dennis as well.
"What's on your mind?" Severus carded his fingers through Harry's hair. "You're unusually pensive today, and that is never a good sign."
"That was a cool potion you made for Bill, the one that turned the figurine into a cat."
"People should take better care of their pets, especially if their house is full of cursed artefacts on display."
"It's good to have a challenge, isn't it? I'm sure you can brew all the potions you make at Hogwarts with your eyes closed. Brewing Pepper-Up for the Hospital Wing year after year must be daunting for a Potions Master of your calibre."
Severus's hand stilled. "I know what you're doing, Harry."
Oh well, subtlety was never his strong suit. "Don't think I'm pressuring you into any decisions, because I'm not, I'm really not." Harry twisted his head to look at him. "But wouldn't you be much happier without all the students you despise? Brewing the potions you want, with much more free time for research?"
"I don't despise all of my students," Severus said tetchily. "It's just the absolute majority of them are—"
"Dunderheads?"
"Precisely." Severus paused for a moment, sighing. "Even if I entertained the idea of leaving Hogwarts once or twice, you know very well that there's a quarter of the student body that depend on me."
"I'm not saying you need to hand in a notice this year," Harry said carefully. "But things are getting better, aren't they? The new Transfiguration Professor is a former Slytherin, and McGonagall told me that she's considering Roger Davies for Defence. He's a Ravenclaw and a fair-minded guy. There won't be a repeat of the last years."
"Roger Davies." Severus scoffed. "Whatever brains he might've had that prompted the Sorting Hat to put him with the eagles, Quidditch made them turn to mush long ago. Didn't he do that asinine teeth potion commercial for the Prophet? One Lockhart was enough for my lifetime."
"Roger's nothing like that fraud. I brushed up against him a couple of time when he still worked with Magical Accidents and Catastrophes. He's pretty good, if a bit vain."
"Brushed up against him, did you? Am I going to work with the staff half-comprised of your previous conquests?"
"Hey! I'm not like that, and you know it." Harry shoved at Severus's shoulder playfully. "For the record, Roger is completely straight, and he's not my type anyway. So you don't have to terrorise him like poor Neville. And while we're at it, you don't have to terrorise Neville either. I should've never told you about him."
"Terrorising Longbottom is what I do." Severus harrumphed. "It's the order of things."
"I happen to know from Aurora that you were civil to him before."
"As the new Head of House, he needs to grow a thicker skin, as soon as possible."
"Oh, so it's for his own good?" Harry smiled and raised his hand, drawing his fingers along Severus's cheekbone lightly. "That page of my life is closed for good. You have no reasons for jealousy, not for Neville, and certainly not for Roger Davies."
"Hopefully Minerva only mentioned him in an attempt to make you stay for one more year." Severus intercepted his hand and traced the lifeline along his palm, sending a jolt of pleasure that took Harry's breath away, but not enough that he didn't notice the veiled question there. They talked about it before, and Harry knew Severus wanted him to take the post permanently, even if he didn't say anything out loud. Severus even grudgingly admitted that Harry was 'an acceptable teacher, for a novice at least', which was high praise coming from him.
"I've enjoyed teaching, even though the students could be more terrifying than killer fish at times. Especially those sixth years leaving underwear in my office on a dare." Harry shuddered.
"Believe me and my experience with the hormonal beasts. It wasn't a dare."
"Have they ever—?"
"Do not. Finish. That question."
"Anyway." Harry snickered. "When McGonagall contacted me about Roger Davies, she offered me to take the NEWT classes. This way, I could have the best of both worlds." Harry smiled a bit nervously, waiting for Severus's reaction.
"The students in the Defence NEWT classes are a danger to themselves and others," Severus said finally. He aimed for his casual scorn, but couldn't quite hide a pleased note from his voice. "They are mostly dolts who picked up a few hexes and now fancy themselves experts on the Dark Arts—never mind they still can't tell a ghost from inferius most of the time." He smirked.
"Oi!" Harry protested, sensing a dig in his direction. "Everybody knows that ghosts are transparent!"
"So if the only choice for teaching is you and Davies—well, at least you can throw a serviceable shield. What's that peacock going to teach? How to reflect curses with the shine of his pearly-white teeth?"
"Maybe I'll return to Hogwarts full-time some years down the line," Harry said thoughtfully. "But I love doing detective work as well. Much of it is spying for cheaters and searching for lost heirlooms, but we get to help people too, often when the Aurors would do nothing."
"Still feel the need to play the hero?" Severus's voice was cutting.
Frustration welling up, Harry attempted to move aside, but Severus didn't let him, drawing him closer instead. Harry knew it was Severus's way of appeasing for hurtful remarks that seemed to find their way into conversation whenever he felt nervous, vulnerable or defensive.
"My work isn't all daring rescues and people trying to kill me, despite what you've seen so far. Those are pretty rare. The life of a Hogwarts teacher is much more dangerous in comparison, you know."
"All those deadly moving staircases."
"So that's why you live underground." Harry grinned, but then grew serious. "Pansy called me an adrenaline junkie once, and I guess I am a bit of a one sometimes. But not nearly to the extent you seem to think I am."
"Well, this remains to be seen."
"I'm a junkie for something else, though." Harry leered, straddling Severus lap.
"That was a truly horrible one, Potter." Severus huffed out a laugh, putting his arms around him.
Capturing Severus's lips in a heated kiss, Harry was well aware that the conversation wasn't over. It wasn't a problem for him to apparate to Scotland instead of Grimmauld Place after work, even though he suspected that most of Severus's objections to his job and wanting him to take the permanent post at Hogwarts stemmed from the concern that it would be. But Severus truly seemed so much more content away from the children that constantly frayed on his nerves and half of the staff who just barely tolerated him. Still, Harry knew that Severus would never abandon his snakes. Hopefully, Gemma Farley, the new Transfiguration Professor, would prove herself competent despite McGonagall's outcries of nepotism so that Severus would feel safe leaving them in her hands one day. And if he was completely honest with himself, he did wish for that day to be sooner rather than later.
But all of it could wait for now. They've still got half of the summer left, and Harry intended to show Severus just how well they could work outside of the Hogwarts walls. Right now, Severus's tongue curling against his own and Severus's hands sliding under his shirt were chasing any concerns together with all the coherent thoughts away.