Chapter One

Wednesday with the Wizards

"Can you fucking believe it?" Ron asked, as he placed the three pints on the table, sliding one across to Harry and one to Neville.

Ron had a terrible habit of asking questions like that without any context. It was a habit that he continued to hold up despite the constant protests of his friends. So, they did what they always did in these situations.

They bullied him.

"That you hooked up with Lavender Brown in sixth year?" Harry said casually. "Yes, I can. I saw it. I saw it a lot actually. Probably too much, if I recall correctly."

"But seeing that at all," Continued Neville. "Would constitute too much. Especially for those with a weak constitution."

"Not this again." Ron grumbled.

"It's how you learn, Ronald." Neville shot back. "Hmm. That you once wore so much protective equipment to try out for the Quidditch team, that Professor McGonagall threatened to turn you into a suit of armour for embarrassing the 'Honour of Gryffindor House'."

"Good one." Harry said as he took a thoughtful sip of his beer.

"That didn't happen."

"But I can believe it." Harry continued. "Oh, I have one. That Luna actually married you."

Neville nodded thoughtfully. "No, that one I can't believe."

"You'd be shocked. Amazed. Surprised, even." Harry said as he smiled a winning smile.

Ron just crossed his arms across his chest and waited for the game to play out.

"Imagine going to that wedding. Heard the best man was a real charmer." Harry continued.

Neville nodded. "Nothing on the groomsman."

Harry chuckled.

Neville took up the game.

"That Ron had twins?" Neville supplied thoughtfully.

"Luna had twins." Harry corrected. "Ron was just there for the fun part."

Ron scoffed and took a long sip of his beer, glaring at the two of them. "I helped a lot more than that."

"Last I heard that following the birth of your children, your genitals remained intact." Neville supplied.

"Unless of course, Luna came up with a spell to help you share the experience." Harry bounced off the back of him. "Though I'm going to break the game and chime in with the hopes that such a spell does not exist."

"If it does," Ron began. "Hermione would know. Merlin help whoever fathers her children. She'd use it too. Can you imagine how that would feel?"

A silence descended upon the men that could only occur when men found themselves thinking about 'pain', 'damage' and 'penis's' in the same thought pattern.

All three faces contorted and they shook their heads.

"You two done? Or are you ready to keep telling me about my schoolyard adventures?"

"I feel like they were Harry's schoolyard adventures, and you were just along for the ride." Neville pointed out, as he took a long swig. "Like, how all the books written about it feature Harry's name very prominently. You struggle to make the fine print."

Ron glared at Neville, then let out a deep laugh. "Well, at least I made it in the story."

Neville shrugged as he fought to keep the smile off his face. "There's freedom in anonymity, right Harry?"

Harry sighed. His turn was coming around quickly and he knew it. They'd be ganging up on him shortly.

"I wouldn't know." He said with a shrug. "What's anonymity?"

Neville rolled his eyes and turned back to Ron. "Here this? Old Dark Wizard Destroyer over here hates his fame."

"Does he?" Said Ron, looking at Harry with a new light that was not even the slightest bit new. "Really? He should have said something. You think he would have."

Neville nodded. "Yeah, though maybe he has mentioned it before."

"Once."

"Twice."

"A hundred-" Ron dangled it.

"Times a day." Neville finished, as Ron joined him in laughter and Harry shook his head.

"Anyway, what were we unable to believe?" Harry said quickly, eager for the conversation to move on.

"Oh yeah." Ron said, the light in his eyes shining as he remembered that he had hot tea to spill. "You blokes read the latest Witch Weekly?"

His smile faded briefly as he realised what exactly he had just said. It faded, even more, when he realised exactly who he had said it to. His eyes began to roll as he saw the smiles creep onto the faces of his two best mates.

"Cover to cover." Harry shot. "Nev?"

"Oh yeah. Lives next to my Loo." With the level of sarcasm dripping from Neville's voice, Harry was surprised that it did not serve as a jinx that summoned Draco Malfoy to the pub. "I love it. Can't get enough. I mean, I read it and I know everything that's going on with Harry. Saves me actually ever having to catch up with him really. You wouldn't believe how convenient that is for me."

Harry laughed easily at that.

"I don't know why I'm friends with you two." Ron grumbled as he took another long swig of his beer. "I really don't."

"Probably because this 'Wednesday with the Wizards' is the only thing that gets you away from Dad duties for the evening." Harry said with a shrug. "That and you've gone quite fond of Muggle Mixing."

Harry waved his hand around the muggle pub to the groups of people who sat around, enjoying the respite from the rain outside. None of the people here knew Harry, Ron or Neville. So their boy's nights at the pub had turned into a nice excuse to drink, catch up and give each other endless shit, without the pressure of unwanted signatures and well-wishers.

"Point is. Luna leaves it around, so I read it." Ron pointedly ignored Harry. "And an interesting story was there."

"Let me guess." Neville interrupted. "Harry has gotten someone pregnant again."

Harry rolled his eyes and and let out a deep disinterested sigh, as he reached for his drink. Unfortunately for him that only encouraged Neville to continue.

"I'm going to bet on McGonagall."

Harry had unfortunately mistimed his sip and nearly spat his beer out as Neville laughed. "I would have guessed Hermione, but that's too easy. They run that article every time she wears loose-fitting clothing, so it wouldn't have been considered 'interesting' this time."

Harry just shrugged. The logic was sound. The Wizarding Press's favourite slow news day story was the relationship with Harry Potter and Hermione Granger. A love affair for the ages.

One that did not exist.

"I figure McGonagall would make a nice twist. You do still go over there for tea more than is normal."

"With Hermione, mind you." Harry said.

"Yeah. But that just makes it more interesting right? Poor Hermione, your alleged on again-off again lover is left at the table while you and McGonagall are running into the Room of Requirement for a bit of 'transfiguration'."

Ron and Harry both stared at Neville.

"I think you spend too much time with plants." Harry said finally. "It's started to cook your brain."

Neville laughed. "You might be right."

"Maybe that's you." Ron jumped in. "Maybe it's you running around showing McGonagall a good time. Introducing her to your 'whomping willow.'"

Harry laughed so hard that tears flowed to his eyes. "Whomping Willow." He choked out between laughs. "That's too good!"

Neville, who had laughed along himself, just shook his head at Harry. He didn't laugh like that often. Only when something tickled him especially well. It was good. It reminded them all that he wasn't in a slump. That he wasn't suffering nightmares each time he tried to close his eyes. Where the demons that had followed him since the war were giving him enough space to enjoy himself.

Ron made eye contact with Neville and gave him a grin. They were thinking the same thing.

It was good.

"Anyway," Ron continued when Harry had sufficiently recovered from his laughing fit. "It seems there is some kind of date doctor running around at the moment, giving blokes ideas on how to make the witch of their dreams fall in love with them."

Harry looked at Ron. Neville didn't blink.

"Yeah." Ron continued. "Some Wizard out there reckons he's cracked the code for wizards to make any witch fall in love with them. If you ask me, that just sounds like Imperius curse, or a love potion really."

Harry nodded. Neville did too.

That was when Ron noticed. Neither of them were saying anything.

"What?" Suspicion was thick in his tone. "What?"

"I dunno, Ron." Neville said. "Sounds like a bit of a wanker to think he's managed to crack that code."

Harry agreed. "Yeah. I reckon that anytime you thought you knew what a witch was thinking, you'd be wrong. Can you imagine trying to do legilimency on a witch? Honestly. I think it would destroy a bloke's brain."

Neville agreed. "Absolutely. It's part of the mystery of life, trying to figure out what any given witch is thinking at any given time. I never have a clue. Harry doesn't either. But that's because he doesn't even know what he's thinking at any given time either."

"Oi."

Ron saw Neville give him a pointed look and he caught on.

"Exactly. Like, imagine if Harry knew he was in love with Hermione. Wouldn't that be a world to live in?" Ron's tone was so full of innocence it was as if he was his son trying to deny that the drawings on the wall were his doing.

Harry rolled his eyes at them both.

"It's my round, same again?" Harry said, eager to avoid that conversation, again. It inevitably came up every Wednesday. Every Wednesday they would poke him to admit that he was madly in love with Hermione. Every Wednesday he vehemently denied it. But the game continued.

It seemed to be everyone's favourite game. Everyone's that is, except for Harry's.

"Is a frog's arsehole waterproof?" Ron said, with a big grin on his face.

Harry froze, half out of his chair and glanced at Neville, who was staring at Ron.

"What?" Ron asked, as if what he had said was the most normal thing in the world.

Neville just shook his head.

"You've been spending too much time around Luke." Harry mumbled as he walked off towards the bar.

XxxxxxX

"You blokes seen the group of birds over in the corner?" Ron said, stuffing his mouth full of chips. "They keep looking this way. They don't even know who we are. You blokes should go and speak to them."

"This again." Harry groaned.

"Go on mate, you haven't dated anyone since Flowers."

"Wait." Harry said, cutting his own steak. "What?"

"Flowers." Neville said nonchalantly, as if Harry should know exactly to what he was referring. "That girl you were seeing last year?"

"Natalie?" Harry asked.

"Yeah." Ron said, clicking as though he had just remembered something highly important. "That was her. Natalie! Flowers."

"Why was she called Flowers?" Harry asked his eyebrows charging to his hairline.

Nev turned to Ron. "Yeah Ron, why was she called Flowers?"

Ron laughed and took a sip of his beer. "Simple. She looked pretty, she smelt pretty, but all she really did was sway in the breeze."

Harry blinked. He looked over at Neville who shrugged, but a ghost of a smile tugged at his lips.

Ron laughed at Harry's expression, and it was enough. Neville broke and started chuckling.

"You two are completely messed up, you know that right?"

"Don't get shitty at us." Neville said, still chuckling. "You're the one who dated her."

"She was lovely." Harry said hotly. "She liked me."

"She was an empty parchment, mate." Ron said seriously. "Trying to talk to her was like trying to have a conversation with a brick wall."

Harry folded his arms in a huff. "She liked me."

"Everyone likes you, Harry." Neville said, poignantly. "The trick is finding someone you actually like."

Ron laughed at that. "So, Hermione, effectively."

"I thought we discussed this tonight already."

"Nah." Ron drained his beer. "We started, but you ran away. You chickened out, really. We discuss this every week. It's the rules."

"It is the rules." Neville agreed. "One hundred percent. Every Wednesday with the Wizards we must discuss how Harry Potter is in love with Hermione Granger. It's gospel. I'll bet if you called up Luke right now, he'd agree."

Harry put his head in his hands.

"I hate this topic." He groaned into his hands. "For the last time, we are just friends."

"Here that, Ron?" Neville said through a smile. "He reckoned it was for the last time. Maybe after this time, there will be no denials."

Harry mumbled something into his hands that suggested what Neville could do with his denials. It sounded vaguely like he was being invited to stick them in a place that was currently covered by his trousers.

"Mate." Ron picked up the last of his chips and looked him dead in the eye. "I dated her for three months. Three. The whole time you were more together with her and I was. And that hasn't changed.."

"Just friends." Harry said, going back to his porterhouse. "Best friends."

Neville nodded along. "Yep. Heard that before. Have you heard that before Ron?"

"Sounds vaguely familiar."

"You've used this one against me tonight, already!" Harry grumbled, refusing to look at them.

"I think we will use it next week too." Neville said with a shrug.

"If you aren't in love with her, why don't you go take one of those birds home?" Ron said, his voice full of challenge. "Just head on over there and hit on them. See how you go."

"Nah." Harry said, shrugging. "No thanks. Besides. You're happily married, you shouldn't care who I sleep with."

"I'm happily married. Which means I have to care about who you sleep with."

"Also, why don't you get on Nev about going over there?"

"Because Nev will just wink at them, and they will be all over him." Ron said nonchalantly. "Have you seen his wink? Winks are creepy, let's be honest, but somehow Neville just winks and folds his arms and they are all over him."

Harry shook his head and turned to Neville. "Do we like Ron? I feel like we don't like Ron."

Neville nodded. "We hate Ron. With his happy marriage."

"And his twin five-year-olds."

"And his happy life with his beautiful witch."

"And his tendency to overshare about everything related to shagging." Harry said, giving Ron a look.

"Oh, you wouldn't believe what we tried the other night-"

Ron was cut off by both Harry and Neville just straight up leaving the table. Neville for the bar and Harry for the toilet. They left a laughing Ron behind.

"I'll finish that thought when you get back!" He called out to them.

Harry shook his head as he pushed open the door and out of sight.

XxxxxX

"Anyway, who do you reckon this bloke is?" Ron asked taking a long drag from his last beer. Well, his last beer before that one was his last beer. But this was his last beer. He promised. Again.

"I mean, anyone who can get Malfoy together with a muggle-born witch is clearly using some dark magic."

Neville nodded along amicably as he focused very intently on cutting his steak.

Harry just shrugged. "Maybe he decided he was sick of being a git and decided that he wanted to marry a person for who they are and not their last name and blood status."

Ron shook his head. "I don't buy it. There's gotta be a love potion involved. He's spiked her drink for sure."

"I don't know about that." Neville said thoughtfully, still focusing on cutting up his steak into meticulous pieces. "Maybe he's just genuinely changed."

Ron laughed so hard he sprayed bits of potato over Harry and Neville, who both cringed as they wiped themselves down.

"Sorry." Ron said hurriedly. "Sorry."

He swallowed.

"Malfoy? A good person? Now I've heard everything."

Neville shrugged. He looked over at Harry, who also shrugged.

"Right," Ron said. "What's going on?"

"Maybe he's the – what did you call him?" Harry asked. "The Love Potioneer? Or the Love Seer."

"I never told you that. How did you know that was what they call him?"

Harry shrugged. "I hear things. I'm not deaf."

"Then why did you pull me through the wringer over it?" Ron said, with faux anger.

"Why wouldn't we?" Neville chimed in. "Anyway, from what I've heard he doesn't use magic. He just happens to know something about Witches."

"You seem to know so much about him Harry, maybe you need to seek him out?"'

"Why would I do that?"

"To get him to help you with Hermione of course?"

"I'm apparently shitty at communication. So maybe I should try to be better at that. So I'll be clear. There is nothing to help with Hermione."

"That's true." Neville jumped in quickly. "Horrible, really. Couldn't communicate your way out 'Sonorus' convention."

Ron was quick not to let Harry continue, much to Harry's chagrin. "I mean, if you weren't shitty at it, you would just go up to Hermione and tell her how madly in love with her you are. That would be communication."

"Are you both done?"

"No." They both said at the same time.

"I don't know why I hang out with you both, honestly."

XxxxxX

Ron had left. It had only taken three more 'last beers' and a wand message from Luna, but he had gone. He had finally been called home to help with his 'terrible twins'. They had farewelled him and off he had gone, promising that they would see him at dinner on Friday, when the whole crowd would be there.

"Grimmauld right?" He had only half slurred to them as he had picked up his coat and headed to the door. "You and Hermione's turn?"

Harry had affirmed that it was indeed his turn. And Hermione would help him for 'Friday with the Family'.

Then again he would be there on Sunday for lunch at the Burrow, to which Harry had continued to be a prominent member, when he wasn't away.

And he was away fairly often.

Neville and Harry had continued to have a few beers and a few laughs. Joking about how life had gotten the way it had, with them two being the single wizards, and all their happily married friends trying to convince them not to be.

But they weren't entirely unhappy with their circumstances.

Well. Neville wasn't. Harry was. Entirely miserable didn't even begin to cover the way Harry felt about his life..

They had settled into a companionable silence. That was the difference between Neville and Ron. Ron almost felt compelled to fill silences. There had been times over the years where Harry believed that Ron felt that if he didn't try and keep it light all the time, Harry would slip into one of his 'moments'.

Those 'moments' that dragged him right back into the heart of the war and everything that had followed.

That was not to say that the years since had been entirely peaceful. Not for Harry. He had risen quickly to lead his own team of Aurors. To be a Gold Class. The war had never been allowed to stop for him.

There were many that said it had everything to do with his name, his scar and his fame.

But the truth was that it could almost have been planned. The Ministry had thrown him at everything. He had been the new weapon at their disposal, and they didn't spare in using him. He was there for the round-up of most of the prominent Death Eaters in the immediate aftermath of the war.

He was now considered to be the subject matter expert when it came to all the new up and comers in the Dark Wizard space.

Harry didn't complain. He was not known for winging, whining or dropping his bottom lip. He just did as he was asked, and he did it to the best of his ability.

He had found a talent in the pursuit of the darker side of magic and it gave him a reason to get up out of bed and go to work. It gave him the sense that he was working towards something higher than himself. Even if he did retain a healthy skepticism for all things government, which no one who knew him found surprising.

He had quickly grown a name for himself a resume to meet it. It had been little wonder that he had found himself running a team at only twenty-five.

But through all that, and everything it entailed. He still lived for the moments with his friends. His self-appointed family. Those which he surrounded himself with, and who he loved with a fierceness that was his character.

Ron, Neville, and a fellow Auror, Luke, were chief amongst the men with who he spent his downtime. They were his mates. His peers. They were everything he needed in male companionship.

But it was with Hermione that he spent most of his time. It led to the litany of jokes, comments and remarks about their relationship. Not just amongst their friends, but the wider magical community had jumped upon the belief that they were an item.

Harry was not an affectionate man. He struggled with anything more intimate than a handshake or a clasp on the back. When Ron got particularly drunk, he found it fun to try a game he had coined 'Hold Harry'. The rules were simple. Break every one of Harry's 'don't fucking touch me' rules. Harry never got angry at Ron for it, even if it did make him uncomfortable. Harry knew it was Ron's way of trying to break down barriers.

But there was one person to whom that rule did not apply. She was way too blind to see that it didn't apply to her.

It was little wonder that everyone thought they were dating.

And it killed him.

It dug at him in his heart for all the comments and the remarks and the attention, they weren't. They weren't dating. They were as close as two humans could be, but they were not lovers.

And Harry wished that they were.

So while they sat there and aimlessly watched the muggle football on television, Harry had finally decided that it was time to do something about the Hermione shaped hole in his heart.

It was time, as Luke had once said, to 'shit or get off the pot.'

"I gotta be honest with you Nev." Harry began, as they reached the second half of their own 'last beer'. "I find it hard to believe that you can go around giving everyone advice on how Wizards can get their Witches, despite being as hopelessly single as I am."

Neville gulped on his fresh sip and nearly spat it back out.

"I don't know what you mean." Neville began. "I'm not the-"

"I'm an Auror Gold Class, Neville. A team leader. Investigations are kind of my thing. Have been for the last five years. You sure you want to try and lie?"

Neville glanced over at Harry. For all the banter and the jokes and the boyisms, a different man now sat in the same chair. This was Harry the Auror.

The Harry that had been sent without complaint against a litany of dark Witches and Wizards and come out on top. The man who had continued to stand toe to toe with anyone who would do the world harm.

The man that was not to be trifled with.

He sat back in his chair, with his arms folded comfortably across his chest. It was only then, did Neville truly notice the sinews of muscle that existed on Harry's forearms. The sinews of muscle that was protected by a layer of skin that still contained a remnant of scars from a seemingly unending series of battles and duels that he had been sent into.

He looked comfortable. Easy, even. As if the words he had said, and the edge in his voice had contained no more a hint of danger than if he had asked Neville which drink he would like from the bar.

Neville sighed and wiped down his collared shirt, trying to wipe away the droplets of beer that had ended up there. For all of his growth, both in height and maturity, he still retained that element of clumsiness from his youth.

"How did you know?"

"Someone made a criminal complaint. I took on the investigation. The Ministry doesn't know. But I figured it out quickly from the reports we got. I know you aren't using any magic in what you do, so I'm content to keep it secret. There was no trace of any spell, potion, or magical artefact in any of the newly found happy couples. But I know it was you."

Neville nodded. "I suppose it was only a matter of time."

Harry nodded. "Yep." He took a long sip. "It was all that hours of endless detective work, chasing down all manner of leads. Hitting stone-wall after stone-wall. Until finally, I cracked the case, and I tracked you down."

Neville watched as hint of mirth swum into Harry's eyes.

"Then the day after I fucking figured it out, Seamus told me."

Neville glanced at Harry and saw he was smiling. Neville burst out laughing.

"I think I prefer Ron."

"No, you don't." Harry said easily, waving a hand. "I'm not here to dob you in or anything, far from it. If anything I'm actually here to ask advice."

"Advice?" Neville sat up slightly in his chair. "I'm all ears."

Harry nodded absently and looked back at the game on the television. He raised his beer to his lips and took a long sip.

Neville waited patiently. Sometimes with Harry, that was what it took, patience. Just a long enough pause for him to gather his thoughts, and he would tell you what he thought you needed to know.

"Advice about Hermione." Harry said slowly.

There goes the idea of him telling everything I needed to know.

"Finally willing to admit it?"

Harry nodded almost imperceptibly as he continued to watch the screen. His eyes never wondered from the game.

"How long?"

"The tent."

"Fuck, Harry." Neville knew that it had been a while. But he didn't know it had been that long. "The tent? Eight years?"

"Eight years."

"Fuck."

Neville sat back in his own chair, but kept himself so he was facing Harry. Attempting to study him. Attempting to read any small manner of truth from the expressions on his face.

Trying and failing.

"That's your advice? The fabled, Love Potioneer? The illusive Hitchwizard?" Harry's mouth almost crawled into a smile. "Fuck? I could have gotten that advice from Ron."

Neville picked up a crisp from the abandoned packet on the table and threw it at Harry, who laughed.

"I just didn't know you had it for that long. I thought you might have just woken up in the last few months to how everyone see's you and Hermione."

"I've been awake for a long time."

"Well, why?"

"Why am I in love with Hermione?" Harry actually took his eyes off the screen and turned towards Neville then.

Neville shook his head.

"No. For once in my hitching career, I don't need to ask that question." He met Harry's gaze evenly. "Why have you been in love with her for eight years and have not said anything."

Harry shrugged. "Does it matter?"

"You've enlisted my services, Harry. Everything matters."

"You'll help me then?" Harry said, with only the barest traces of hope in his voice. "You'll help me with this?"

"What was the expression about frogs that Ron said before?"

"I don't think we need to repeat it." Harry said as he turned to face Neville.

"Harry." Neville said placatingly. "There isn't a person in your homemade family that wouldn't help you with this. All we want is for you and Hermione to be happy. Preferably together, because you two cook the best meals out of all of us-"

Neville cut off. He was trying to find the words to say. Harry could be mercurial when he was showing his heart on his sleeve. Like he was not.

"But if not then. Then happy in your own way. And you aren't. It's plain to see."

Neville watched as Harry tore his eyes from Neville's and looked back at the game.

A small silence descended over them. A silence broken only by the imaginary sounds of the cogs turning inside Harry's mind.

"It's actually pretty simple." Harry began, again raising his glass to his lips as his eyes followed the players falling over themselves in order to try and get penalties. It is something that greatly annoyed Harry about the game, as he detested people pretending to be hurt for attention.

Especially considering how often he had been hurt, and how badly he had worked to hide it from attention.

"I never really thought I was good enough for anyone. Anyone at all. Let alone the most amazing human I know. I just never thought it would happen. I never thought I stood a chance."

Neville nodded along. It was not an unexpected answer, but it wasn't pleasant to hear. He had long known about Harry's problems with his personal perception in his life. So confident in a battle, but so unsure of who he was, and what he deserved.

"And that has changed?"

Harry shrugged,

"I'm going to need some verbal words from you mate, if I'm going to help you."

"A bit." Harry chewed on his bottom lip thoughtfully before he continued. "She's been into me about it. I guess you could say that Hermione has been trying to build me up for years. It's finally started to take hold, that if I ever am to take on the family I want, then I need to believe in myself enough to go after it."

"She's a clever witch."

"The brightest of an age."

"You'll get no argument from me there." Neville said, trying to read Harry. "What do you want out of her?"

"I just want her." Harry said. His mouth opened several times as he went to continue, but the words seem to fail him. Instead, he was left with the red colouring as it ran to his cheeks. "I want everything. A family. Love. A partner for the rest of my life in everything I do. I want all of it, and I want it with her."

Neville couldn't help but smile. Harry was no romantic, but he was genuine. Genuine he could work with. Genuine was the most important part.

Not that there was any surprise there. Genuine was one of the best words to sum Harry up.

"Well mate. This one should actually be very simple."

"Why's that."

"Well, if you'll forgive the opinion of the professional, Hermione is about as madly in love with you, as you are with her. We just don't know if she has realised it yet."

"I'm not so sure about that." Harry said, his attention focussed back on the game.

"I am." Neville said. And he was. "So maybe, the simplest plan is the best. Tell her how you feel."

Harry shook his head. "I can't. I can't risk it mate. If she doesn't return my feelings, and if I lose her friendship, honestly? I'm fucked. I'm massively fucked. She's honestly my rock. If I lose her, I don't know what I would do."

Neville leaned back and fixed Harry with a stare. In his mind, it was honestly that simple. Tell her. She wouldn't run. She wouldn't hide. She would most likely snog the poor prick and then they'd go on to have higly intelligent, troublemaking children who had a terrifyingly encyclopedic knowledge of spells, and an unending number of creative ways to use them.

"Any other reason you won't tell her?"

Harry shrugged. "Seems too simple. I don't trust simple."

Fair enough.

"Right. Well we can come up with some other ideas. See if we can figure out her feelings so you don't have to go into this half cocked. The irony of you not going into this half cocked is not lost on me by the way. That is kind of exactly your thing."

"Last time I did that with Hermione involved, I ended up momentarily dead on the Forbidden Forrest floor." Harry said with a shrug. "I'd rather this didn't go that way."

"Right. This seems highly contrived and is likely to drag things out for no other reason than you're own stubbornness, but I get it."

Harry shrugged again. "Sometimes that's how things go."

Stubborn bastard.

"Anyway." Neville said. "The only real obstacle we have is if she gets set up by one of the others with a Wizard she likes, before we get a chance to properly figure out how she is feeling."

Harry nodded, slowly. Neville caught it. Something about the way he chewed on his bottom lip.

"What aren't you telling me, Harry?"

"I got an offer." Harry said slowly, as if putting a great deal of thought into his words. Something Harry did very rarely. "A good one."

"What kind of offer?"

"The ICW is setting up an international task force of Aurors from the world over to deal with cross jurisdictional matters. Dark Wizards that hop borders. Every country is providing a few Aurors to assist."

"Okay." Neville said nodding. "So you will be away a bit more. That's fine. You're away a bit as it is."

"The posting would be to Melbourne."

"Australia."

Harry nodded.

"Why?" Neville said shaking his head. "Why set it up down there. Last I heard they survived the last few wizarding wars relatively unscathed. Their Aurors put down their pure-blood revolts with relative ease. Why would they set it up there?"

Harry turned and looked at Neville. "I like that you have enough belief in the ICW that you think they consulted me when they determined where to set up their new office."

Neville rolled his eyes and sat back in his chair.

"What did Hermione say when you told her?"

"I haven't told her." Harry said slowly. "Not yet."

Neville audibly groaned. "Are you trying to make things more difficult for yourself, Harry? Why couldn't you ask me when there was no time pressure? When things were more stable."

Harry just shrugged again. "Because my life is a fucking mess, and I seem to be very adept at digging in further."

Neville sat back in his chair and pondered the circumstances. "You could always say no."

Harry nodded. "I know."

Neville watched as Harry paused and rest his head into his hand. His mouth seemed to move of its own will several times. As if he was speaking. But nothing came out. No words that Neville could hear.

Neville let him pause. He would speak when he was ready.

Several moments later, he was ready.

"I can't keep doing this. I can't keep living this close to everything I've always wanted. This close to having it all without being able to actually have it. Near enough is no longer good enough. I can't do it. It's killing me inside mate. If I can't have her. Then I need to leave for a while. If I can't have her, then I don't know how to watch someone else have her."

Neville reached out and punched Harry on the arm, in an attempt to pull him from his funk. "It's alright mate. We will figure this out."

Harry just nodded.

"In the meantime, did you want to go distract yourself by hitting on those ladies over there? Get some practice. Besides, one of the strategies we may have to implement is the old 'jealousy principle."

"Let me get this straight." Harry said, turning his head to face Neville. "You want me to go over there and attempt to pick up a muggle woman, in order to make Hermione jealous, only to lose out to the 'Hitchwizard'? I can't compete with your trademark wink!" Harry said, offering Neville an incredulous look.

Neville laughed. "No winks. I promise."

Harry shook his head. "No thanks, mate. I'd rather just sit here in my misery. It's a little bit my thing. Besides, you may not wink, but you will do that weird lip lick thing you do."

Neville looked at him and smirked. "I will never promise not to use that one."

XxxxxX