Daisies were her favourite. It had taken him until Tuesday to remember, but he did eventually. The weekend spent meeting people had been tiring, if entertaining. So getting back to the office was a nice change of pace. His own office, which had been a nice surprise.
There was no talk of promotion yet but the gesture was obvious. Robards had given him desk work the first week, and he couldn't complain about that either. The reality was that he was out of shape, something he was remedying with a steady regimen of exercise.
It was just past lunch and he was expecting the knock at his door.
"Come in!"
Ginny came in dressed in something muggle and sporty. To anyone else it would seem like she couldn't care less, but to him it was obvious she had done her hair. Putting in the effort without looking like she had was something she excelled at.
"Congratulations I guess," she said, looking around. There really wasn't much to look at, he had just moved in.
"Thank you, although nothing is official."
She closed the door behind her and walked over to his desk.
"I feel like we haven't really talked much."
"We haven't," he said with a frown. "What did you want to talk about?"
"About our marriage, Harry."
"Our marriage," he replied non-plussed.
"I mean, we had something didn't we?" She stepped closer, which he didn't like. "I made a mistake, okay?"
"Did you break up with him, the Puddlemere star?"
"I haven't –"
"Good," he sighed. "Because I'm not sure what I want either, I'm just trying to keep my head above water. I appreciate you coming over and everything, but I need time to think."
He could see the annoyance in her eyes, as she always got when she didn't get something she wanted easily. "To think?" She looked like she wanted to protest, but stilled.
"Yes. We'll see each other around, yeah?"
He wanted to consult with Hermione, she would know what to do. And as long as it wasn't a complete loss for Ginny, he knew she could accept that answer.
She smiled at him, and they hugged. Harry knew he should be happy for the attention, and in a way he was. But Ginny could be as much of a problem as she could be useful. He didn't want to be the target of her ire. No, she would be much more formidable on his side, the adored star of the Harpies. He immediately penned a memo to the deputy-director's office.
He was sitting in the parlour when Hermione came over to Grimmauld Place, carrying a small sort of box.
"How was your day?" she asked.
"All right, I think I'm being watched for a while until Robards decides I'm fit for duty."
"He's going to make you Captain, isn't he? Would you be the youngest Auror Captain in history then?"
"I think there was a younger one, Flavius… something. Where are we headed?"
"Potions workshop. Thanks for the daisies, I love them. I'm surprised you remembered."
They entered the basement and the potions workshop. It wasn't ideal, but they and Kreacher had spent some time putting it in order. They had put both their equipment in, which was largely enough to fit their current needs. She stirred the potion they had been working on. Small noises came from the box she brought.
"What the hell is that?"
"That?" She took out her wand and flicked it, and the box grew many times its size, revealing a bunch of cats peering through the cage. "I got them at the shelter, all with eye problems too."
"Good thinking," he said, putting his finger to it. "Do you think it'll work?"
"It'll tell us if it's dangerous. It's a tricky potion, Harry, I don't expect to get it right on the first try. The colour looks good enough."
"Should I take one out?"
"Please," she said with a smile. "But do watch out they don't escape."
Harry lifted the top lid and grabbed one by the scruff of the neck. "Sticking charms?"
"Yes, better do that."
Harry applied the sticking charms to the table and plopped down the first cat. "Ginny came to visit, that's actually what I wanted to talk about."
"What did she say?"
"She wanted to get back together, basically," he answered rubbing his neck.
Thoughtfully, she filled the small pipette with potion. "And what do you want?"
"I don't hate her, hell I married her." He bashfully leaned against the table. "But I didn't send her flowers."
She blushed and smiled at that, coming over to the table. "Okay," she said with a deep breath. "Now comes the hard part." She steadied her hand above the cat, holding her breath. Quickly she put one drop in each eye and stepped back.
It meowed and angrily tried to lift itself from the table, but it was firmly stuck in place. It looked like it had taken effect successfully, but after a moment the cat started a high-pitched yowl. "Oh drat!" Hermione said as she saw the blood pouring out of the cat's eyes. "I must have added too much redcap."
She took out her wand but Harry stopped her. "I'll take care of it." He shot a concussive spell at the frightened animal's neck and it collapsed onto the table. "Lucky you brought spares, I'll tell Kreacher to feed them in the meantime."
"Thanks, Harry."
He vanished the dead cat while Hermione prepared the ingredients for the new trial.
"You know, if it's too much trouble..."
"Nonsense!" she said. "We have all this knowledge, we should put it to good use. And I think you would look great without glasses… just think if we run for the Wizengamot, it would be a great help."
"Yes, I'm sure the voters would love that," Harry responded cheekily.
They settled in the library with some tea Kreacher brought. Harry's eyes kept drifting to her. Not only was he absolutely taken with her newly purchased clothes, but she was glowing, and he silently hoped he was part of the reason for it. Her crossed leg swayed hypnotically back and forth.
"So we are really going through with this, then?" she wondered.
"Why not?" he answered. "There's really only one hurdle: we're inexperienced."
She nodded, her furrowed brow betraying her racing thoughts. "I think I know who to talk to. Simon Owen, he's the lawyer who helped Richard Bones with his campaign."
"You know him?"
"He approached me when I started at the Ministry. He thought I could make a run for it, but I declined. We can also get King's input, but I have a feeling he'll be too busy to give us real help."
"Exciting."
"Never thought I'd hear you say that about politics," she said with a giggle.
"Maybe it's because we're doing it together."
She slapped him on the shoulder. "Politics, flowers and compliments. Yes, I would say you have changed." She huffed happily. "I should probably go. I'll let you know when we can meet with Owen."
Harry was returned to field work on Monday only one week after his return. Robards could see one of his best Aurors was getting impatient and acquiesced. And Harry was glad for it. He valued most of his fellow Aurors. He was returning from a false alarm dark artefact call with Mathilda when Andy, the Captains' secretary and now temporarily his as well handed him a note.
"Something come up while we were gone?" Mathilda asked.
"No," Harry shook his head, "something personal."
"New girl?" she ribbed.
"No," he chuckled.
"Old girl? I hope it's not Ginny, that cunt didn't even have the decency to wait for you to wake up."
"Hey cool it all right, still my wife."
"I mean it. You deserve much better than someone who'll walk out on you first chance."
Harry sighed and pocketed the memo. "You're impossible sometimes, but point taken."
"So who was it?"
He furtively looked around and guided her to a more secluded part of the cubicles. "Hermione," he whispered. "I'll let you in, but keep your mouth shut. That press conference, you remember?"
She nodded.
"Well we might be doing exactly what the old man from the Tribune suggested."
"You mean..."
"Running in September."
"Holy sh –" He shushed her. "– shite!" she whispered.
"What do you think?"
"Bloody good idea, I think. Great. About time we got someone who knows what it's like for us in with those crooked bastards."
He patted her on the shoulder. "Just keep it to yourself for now."
It was one thing to run for office, but another entirely to have that translate into any real power. He'd realized that when he read up on the Wizengamot proceedings following his accident. The group in favour of the anti-corruption reforms had a decent core group of members, but there had been almost no buzz in the public eye. This made it incredibly easy for the so called progressives and other parties to sweep the proposals under the rug.
And if he started to include people like Mathilda and the other Aurors, it might be something that helped him along the way. After all, the wizarding world was a small one.
The memo he got was to set a meeting on Wednesday with Owen. Hermione still came by almost every evening to study and work together, or just for a drink when they needed a break. On that front, he was in trouble. He was starting to develop real affection for Hermione, or maybe it had always been there.
As to not reveal their hand too quickly, they had scheduled the meeting for six in the evening at Grimmauld. A man dressed in a green striped suit with a suitcase and a bowler hat stumbled in from the floo. Fortunately he was much too thin and unkempt to look anything like Fudge.
"Sorry if I'm late," he said. He was three minutes early. "Pleasure, Simon Owen."
Harry didn't feel the need to introduce himself, but the man shook both their hands. "Likewise. Shall we go the parlour?"
"Of course! My, my, the House of Black. Lots of history happened between these walls… apologies."
"That's all right," Harry said. "Lots of memories for us here, and not always good ones."
"I'll keep that in mind," the jovial man said.
They sat down around a table where Owen opened his suitcase, out of which he took several different files. "Before we start, I have to tell you what a pleasure it is to be working with both of you. I could hardly believe it when I got Mrs. Granger's letter."
"I'm glad you're excited Simon," Hermione said. "We feel the same way."
"So I've done a bit of research," he said opening one of the files. "You make a good impression with the young population and the very old. You do decently with the middle aged tranches as well, but it's definitely your weak point."
"I just wanted to ask," Harry said. "I assume you'll be wanting pay for this?"
"Everything that's worth it has a price. I'll give you the same rate I gave Dicky Bones, seventy sickles an hour."
Harry nodded for him to continue.
"Have you thought about what issues you'll be running on?"
"Well, like I said in my letter, we wanted to pursue the corruption reforms," said Hermione.
Simon gave a disapproving grunt. "Corruption is not appealing," he said pointing to a piece of parchment. "As you can see the primary voter concerns are safety, moral issues and taxation. Corruption comes up in 17th place."
"So much for our initial plan," Hermione sighed.
"That's fine," Simon said. "What you have to do is find an issue that resonates with all walks of life, and make that the centre point of your campaign. And since you'll be running in tandem, you won't have to find differing issues. You will need to each bring a unique view, but that's for later."
They discussed things for some time. Eventually it was Harry who brought up the issue of his marriage.
"Yes," Simon said, "it's well known married candidates fare much better. I wouldn't like to pressure you though. I know these things can be complicated."
"It's good of you to tell us." Harry glanced at his watch. "Did you have anything else you wanted to go over?"
"Much," he responded with a smile. "But we will have the opportunity to discuss things at an other time, I hope. We can schedule another meeting later, when things are clearer."
They accompanied Simon to the floo. Once alone, a heavy question hung in the air.
"So," he said.
"Whatever we decide, we should do it now… right? I mean… I don't like it Harry, not one bit. If you're not happy with Ginny, you shouldn't have to get back together. But if it's for –"
" – for us?" he finished.
"That's..."
There was something in her eye that told him it might not be just him feeling what he did. He wondered how Ron fit into all this. If he confessed right now, there was going to be no hiding the fallout of what happened, even if she returned his feelings. And if she didn't, what would happen then?
"Hermione, if it means we can do this together, you don't have to ask."
"Okay," she said.
He smiled and nodded.
Unlike Mathilda, Alfred Baxter had a different perspective, albeit a shallow one.
"Hey, it's only right. As if that thrill of the week could ever compete with a full fledged Auror. 'Course she'd come around, realize what she did. And where'r you going to find a girl with looks like hers? Hell, most guys would give their wand arm to date a Harpy. Good for you, mate."
"We're just going out for dinner," Harry explained.
They were on the London beat. It surprised Harry that he would get assigned to that so early. But he had been out of the loop.
"So what's the word on the streets lately?"
Alfred nodded for him to get closer.
"Knockturn's really been quiet. Word is a lot of shady activity has relocated, Barnton, some others, even the outskirts of Puddlemere."
"So what the hell are we doing here?" Harry said.
"Thinking of going off-script?" Alfred asked.
Harry pondered it for a second, biting his lip. "How long since you gave good old Borgin a visit?"
Borgin and Burkes had lived through the post-war chaos mostly untouched. A palm greased here, a good word there, all the while keeping a friendly face with those who would rather see the establishment gone. Lester Borgin had surpassed his father in every way. 'Reformed', is what his customers called him, and as far as Harry knew they were mostly right. But that didn't mean he didn't have his fingers in questionable pots.
The man winced as he looked over to the chimes announcing their entrance. He slowly walked over to them and extended a well manicured hand. "Welcome back, Mr. Potter, Mr. Baxter."
Harry shook his hand. "You know why we're here, don't you Lester?"
"I don't."
"Just looking for anything you might have for us," Alfred said, inspecting an odd looking skull.
"I don't – put that down – I don't have anything for you. Knockturn's dreadfully boring. Didn't see the sweets shop where Shifty's used to be? All above board now."
"That's the thing," Harry said. "We're looking to dig up the dirt. And there has to be dirt somewhere. Say, out of town?"
"What the hell is this, some new crusade?" Borgin said annoyedly. "They're all cowering, for good reason. And I keep myself out of it; don't ask, don't tell."
"So there is something going on?" Alfred asked.
"Are you being serious?" Borgin asked. "That's what happens when you stay in your incestuous little clique, nobody tells you anything."
"Why don't you enlighten us, then? Eight months gone, remember?"
Lester shrugged. "Go to Barnton on a Fiday night and you can see for yourself."
"Hold on," Alfred interjected. "What are we talking about here?"
"It's not illegal, if that's what you're asking. At least not that I know of. Where do you think a witch goes to make an extra galleon? Can't go on muggle-baiting sprees any more like before."
"They're..."
"Turning tricks. You catch what I'm saying?"
"That's not new, is it?" Harry said. "You always had the odd pleasure witch roaming around."
"Barnton's on another level. I don't go there, place is depressing. And that's with me not knowing, so yeah, maybe you can dig up something. Just not going to be me who gets you any dirt."
They finished their shift and agreed to visit Barnton on Friday. Harry had a date to go to with Ginny. He had reserved a table at a quiet little restaurant at Godric's Hollow. She met him in a nice dress, and was already getting accosted for autographs when he got there. She politely told them to scram and the group of youngsters fled when they turned to see Harry.
"I'm so glad you owled me," she said, giving him a hug.
They went inside and ordered some drinks. She looked smug, very smug, or happy, he couldn't be sure. He wanted to keep her that way. Having lived with her for a while, he knew what she was like. Determined, with a one-track mind. Which might be a problem if he was in her sights.
"I broke up with Dwyre," she said with a sigh. "It wasn't serious anyway, just, I missed you."
Harry nodded. Definitely in her sights, locked and loaded. "That was quick."
"I'm sorry, I know what I did hurt you."
If only it did, he might have put on a convincing sad face. He wished he could put her in a nice little friend-shaped box and keep her there, it would be much easier.
"It's all right. Work is keeping me busy, giving me time to take it all in."
"That's good. I can give you time, you deserve it."
He drunk from his wine, slightly annoyed by the situation. He leaned closer to her and smiled. "Why don't we put it behind us? Start slow."
"Yes," she said with tears in her eyes. "Yes, I'd like that very much."
"I'll stay at Grimmauld for now, but we can see each other any time."
"Sure," she said, her eyes brightening up. "I'll have to give you tickets to our matches. I have a really good feeling about this season."
It was a nice enough dinner, and talking quidditch was relaxing. He could still enjoy Ginny's unfettered optimism and shiny disposition. It was easy to deal with. Once she felt more comfortable, she did move on to the topic of Ron.
"He's been so cranky lately, you figure he'd be happy to have Hermione back."
"They've always been like that, haven't they?"
"It's worse somehow. Says she's out late all the time."
Harry clicked his tongue. "He's so impatient. She's been coming over, I'm sure he knows that."
"What for?"
"Something we've been working on." He smiled at her. "You'll find out soon."
