A/N: I really could have just updated this much earlier, but I thought that I needed to add more. It seemed unfinished. So I went at it today and figured that I could very well place what was added into another chapter. So, damnit. Sorry for the pointless wait everyone and I hope that you all don't think that this chapter is going off or pointless. Let me know what you think.


Legs. These were the first things that Stanley Tolski saw when opened his eyes. At first they looked to be two pale blurry columns spotted with black. Then he placed his thick purple glasses on and the columns focused allowing Stanley to make out that the black spotty things were in fact fishnet stockings. The fishnet stocking clad pair of legs was attached to rather expensive looking pumps; one tapping impatiently on the smooth surface of the linoleum floor.

His eyes traveled up the length of the legs, along the black dress that clung to her curves like a second skin. They rose up past the one hand resting on a hip, the generous cleavage just peaking from the neckline, up past the string of pearls resting on a delicate neck, the pouting lips that pursed in impatience, up the pert nose, past the earrings and to the hazel eyes that peered down at him with a bored look.

Stanley glanced down the hall to see if his partner was back from the loo yet. Nope. Stanley held back a sigh and leaned into his seat. He really did not want to deal with another admirer of a staff member. He folded his hands and rested them on his belly then said in his most generous tone, "Yes?"

After five years of employment Stanley already knew the words she was going to say. He could have mouthed them along with her.

"I'm here to see Harry."

She said his name with such familiarity that could have convinced even the coldest of prison guards, but Stanley wasn't known as 'the Tank' for nothing.

The red light of the intercom flickered. Stanley righted himself in his seat and, as if by habit, he adjusted the purple and white argyle vest over his button down shirt. He flashed her a shocking white smile and raised a finger motioning her to wait for a moment.

"Tolski here," he said into the headset. He hoped the message was a long one.

The woman folded her arms over her chest and heaved a loud sigh.

"Right, I'm on it."

He flicked his wand over a set of files and brought his attention back to the woman.

"Do you have a pass?" he asked.

The woman only looked at him as if he was stupid. "No. Of course I don't. Harry knows me. He'll see me."

Lovely she was one of those women. Stanley refrained from clenching his jaw in annoyance and tried to will his partner back. He shook his head.

"I'm sorry, but no one is allowed within the complex without a pass card."

The woman looked appalled. "Listen, I'll only be a moment. I just want to let him know that I'm in town for a bit."

"Well then you can send him an owl."

"I don't have an owl with me. I'm only visiting for the week. Can't you just make an exception?"

Stanley pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose with a finger. "Sorry. Those are my orders. Can't let you in without a pass. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got some work to do."

The woman looked haughtily at him and bit her lip. Then she leaned on the counter exposing the delectable flesh of her bosom. Stanley swallowed a yawn and glanced at his wand scanning the files.

"All I'm asking-"

"Sorry miss, but can you please take a step back?"

The woman gave a little harrumph but did as she was told, and Stanley heaved the heavy pile of files onto the counter, ready for Lou the house elf to pick them up.

"Is it too much to ask if you could at least let him know I'm here?" she said with a sugary smile.

Stanley looked up at her and straightened his glasses with a frown. Approaching footsteps reached his ears. Finally.

Patricia Nguyen walked brusquely to their post. "Problem?" she asked him; she noted Stanley's annoyance with a hint of amusement in her brown eyes.

Stanley stood from his chair pulling down the edges of his vest, and made to head to the loo. "Just ring her in," he muttered under his breath then turned to the woman at the counter. "My partner will notify Mr. Potter, but if he declines I'm afraid you'll have to leave."

"Of course."


"You're in here too much."

"Well, it's called work, Dean."

Dean looked over his shoulder at his friend who was seated at his desk, parchment and files scattered on the counter. He was scribbling madly, his quill drilling across the parchment pausing every now and then to dip into the ink bottle or to check something or other in more sheets of parchment. Dean turned back to the pictures and articles of Dark Wizards that filled one wall of the room. He strolled over to one of the maps of one man's whereabouts.

"You work too much," he said.

"I try," said Harry noting Dean peering into the foe glass by the door. "There's a quaffle by the fireplace over there if you're bored."

"I'm not a child, Harry," Dean said as he strolled over to the fireplace, and picked up the quaffle that rested on one of the armchairs. He lightly tossed it back and forth, and noticed the pictures of friends tacked on the wall by the fireplace.

"Hey, this was taken at Krum's match," Dean said, grinning at the photo of Harry, Ron, Dean, Neville and Seamus. Ron pointing at the spec of Krum in the sky and Seamus throwing the camera a double thumbs up.

Harry glanced up and chuckled. "Yeah, that was."

Dean threw himself on one armchair and began to bounce the quaffle against a filing cabinet sitting by the back wall. "So," said Dean as he threw the quaffle against the cabinet. It bounced off the corner and flew in Harry's direction.

"Yeah," Harry said, immediately raising his left hand to deftly catch it without taking his gaze off the parchment. His elbow rested on the desk, quaffle still in hand and he paused for a moment, reading what he had written, before looking up to toss it back to Dean.

"I'm bored," Dean said.

"Ron will be here soon."

"Nev coming?"

Harry nodded. "He'll be here in a bit. Got called over to Mungo's for a check up or something."

"Right."

Then without so much as a knock, Ron threw open the door and strolled in. "God, I hate paper work," he said glancing at Harry.

"Part of the job," Harry said.

"He works too much," Dean repeated.

Harry, eyes on his parchment, crumpled up an empty sheet and threw it at Dean, who caught it with a swish of his wand and flicked it in the bin saying, "You just killed a tree. You bastard."

"Right, well I'm starving. Where's Neville?" said Ron who was seated in the second armchair.

"On his way," said Dean.

"Major Potter?" a face in the flames called.

"Yes, Humbert?"

"A representative of Malfoy Enterprises wants to speak with you." Harry sighed. "Can you take a message?"

"He says it's important, Major."

"Wonderful," he muttered as he capped his ink bottle and pushed aside the parchment.

"Right, I'm on my way."

"What about lunch?" Dean asked.

"This won't take long. Malfoy probably wants to talk to me about family security."

"That's not our department," said Ron.

"Yeah well, tell that to the git. He's only looking out for his family though and Ginny is pregnant. Only trusts me with this for some reason. Just wait for Neville. I'll be back in a bit." And he shut the door behind him.

Ron was silent for a moment. Then he walked to the bay windows and gazed outside.

There were times when he could accept that Ginny was married to the man, and then there were moments when he'd just force himself to forget. This wasn't one of those moments.

Something blunt hit him in the back of the head.

Hard.

"Ow," Ron muttered and rubbed the back of his head.

"Sorry," Dean called from the chair.

Ron stooped to pick up the quaffle now sitting on Harry's desk. He tossed it in the air and caught it.

"Erm, you mind passing it here then?"

Ron threw it.

"You're rubbish at that, you know."

"S'why I never tried out for the team."

"And yet you coach it."

Dean shrugged. "Madam Hooch retired. McGonagall was desperate. Besides, I was rubbish at teaching Astronomy."

"Dunno why she even hired you."

"I'm desirable?"

"Desperate, more like."

"Thanks," Dean said dryly. Ron rummaged through Harry's drawers saying, "Now I know he keeps it in here somewhere." "Should you really be doing that?" Ron shrugged. "He'd understand. Aha! Here it is." He raised a chess set triumphantly in his hands and grinned.

Dean shook his head and stood from the chair saying, "Oh no, you're not going to coerce me into playing that."

"One game."

"No."

Ron looked pointedly at him. "Do you have anything better to do?"

Dean scowled. "Give it here."

"Brilliant."

Two matches (Dean lost both. Fantastically.) and some quaffle tossing later, there was a voice from the fire, ("Dr. Longbottom is here") and a tentative rap on the door. Ron opened it.

"Back from a long morning's work at Herbology, I see. Shut the door behind you, will you?"

"Why'd you have to go to Mungo's?" Dean asked, taking a spin in Harry's chair.

"They wanted me to look at a fern a patient received."

"Was it dodgy?" Ron asked, not managing to hold back a grin.

"Very," Neville said. He walked to the window and looked out. "Where's Harry?"

"Mooching with Malfoy," Dean said, now floating around the room on Harry's now charmed chair.

Neville blinked and watched Dean meander his way from one wall to the next. "Er, okay."

Ron was seated on the floor, setting up the chess board. "Hey, Neville! Wanna play?"

"No, Nev! Don't give in!"

"Sure," Neville said seating himself on the floor across from Ron.

Dean shook his head and floated back down to the ground.

"And I've lost him."


"Head office."

"Yes, there is a Miss…" Patricia looked pointedly at the woman in the black dress and fishnets.

"Allison," the woman said.

"Miss Allison here to see Mr. Potter."

"Does she have a pass card?"

"No."

"One moment."

Patricia looked up at the woman with a smile and nodded at the house-elf who hefted the files into its arms. Stanley was making his way back to their post, hands in his pockets.

"Can I see him now?"

"Just one moment, Miss Allison," Patricia said with a forced smile. Stanley hid his own grin and took a seat, placing his headset on and holstering his wand.


It took only moments and a few swift moves for Ron to take Neville's king and for Neville to drift over to Harry's bookshelf. Then Justin came in and Ron was called out on some urgent message. Now the three them were in their respected places, idly talking and laughing, waiting for the other two to return.

A voice from the fire drew Justin's attention.

"Major?"

"Erm, no it's me Miranda. Harry's stepped out for a bit. Urgent business with Malfoy," he said to the plump face that floated in the flames.

"Of course, sir. There is a Miss Allison here to speak with the Major."

Neville jerked his head at the name and Dean nearly dropped the quaffle; his hands fumbled to catch it as it slipped from his grasp.

"Does she have a pass card?" Justin asked, scratching his chin.

"No, but Stan and Pat say that the woman is convinced the Major will see her."

Justin glanced at Dean who made quick gestures stating not to waste time and bring her in. Neville looked frightened at the aspect.

"Should I have Miss Allison leave a message?"

Dean shook his head furiously. Neville nodded.

"No no. Have her come in. We'll keep an eye on her until Harry gets back," said Justin.

Dean tossed the quaffle in the air in celebration and Neville hung his head.

"Right, sir." Then the head disappeared.

"Why did you do that? Why?" Neville said.

"I just want to know what she wants," Justin said folding his arms. "and besides, if I had said no then Harry would get her message anyway. Might as well have her pass it on in person."

"You just want to see if she looks exactly like the stories say she does," Dean said and Justin grinned, a cheeky grin. "That too," he said.

"As do I," said Dean.

"You're both stupid. Bringing Harry's ex in here out of curiosity is just going to make things worse."

"Neville. This isn't just one of Harry's flings. This is The Allison. The woman that managed to hang on for longer than a week. The on again, off again woman. She's the one he keeps going back to and I sure as hell want to know why."

"And what if Harry comes back while you guys gawk at her? What do you plan on doing then? We can't just bar Harry from his own office"

"Look, all we're doing is taking a message from her in person. Harry's not going to be here while she is because Malfoy's going to take ages, so just relax"

"A Miss Allison is at the door," a voice said from the fire.

Neville groaned and scrubbed a hand over his face. Justin only tossed him an annoyed look and ran a hand through his hair, but before he could tell the voice to bring her in, the door burst open and in walked Ron very red in the face.

"Could someone please tell me why Allison bloody Wyles is standing right outside the bleeding door?"

"She wants to speak with Harry."

"Really, Justin? And here I thought she wanted a spot of tea."

"Ron-"

"Who let her in." Ron said in a dangerous voice.

Two fingers pointed at a nervous looking Justin sitting in Harry's chair.

Ron pulled out his wand, pointed it at the door with a Silencio and in three strides he was at Harry's desk. Bracing his hands on the surface he shouted, "WHAT THE BLEEDING HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU!"

Neville jumped.

"ARE YOU DAFT!" Ron continued.

"I just wanted to see the woman who-"

"THAT WOMAN IS A COW! AND IF YOU'D JUST TAKE YOUR HEAD OUT OF YOUR BLEEDING ARSE YOU'D SEE WHAT A THICK HEADED IDIOT YOU'RE BEING!"

Justin shot to his feet and walked around the desk to stand before his friend. He hardly came up to Ron's shoulders, but managed still looked just as angry.

"Hang on now, then! You may order me around in the field, but we're off duty and I'm not-"

Ron threw his hands in the air in frustration. "Oh, sod duty you wanker! You're supposed to be his friend, not some bloody child pressed up against some bloody window gawking like an idiot! You know how much he cares about his sodding privacy!"

"Well if he cares so much, maybe he'd just finally settle down and-"

"Yeah, you're the one to talk. Where's your sodding wife and white picket fence!"

"Piss off Ron! I'm not fucking perfect!"

"Yeah and you're not fucking bright either!"

Justin's mouth pressed into a thin line and his nostrils flared. "Sod off," he said and in a few swift steps he made his way to the door.

Ron looked at him and his eyes darkened. "I swear to god, Justin if you open that door-"

From the corner of the room Dean swore as Justin opened the door with a quick flick and it swung open revealing the stunning woman standing profile to them with a hand resting on her hip.

She took no notice of the now open door, nor of the men in the room. Instead her lips were shaped into a small smile and her eyes were focused on the man that stood before her with hands in his pockets.

"Bollocks," Ron muttered and made a mental note to dispose of Justin later. Right now though he was only concerned about the show that was about enfold before his eyes.

Harry's face was composed as such that he allowed Allison to see that he was somewhat pleasantly surprised, but Ron knew better. It seemed that the two of them had been standing there for a few moments before Justin had decided to open the door.

How long they would have stood there, Ron couldn't say. What he did know though was that whatever the woman had to say, Harry would need a drink later. A very large drink. Preferably of the caffeine sort.

"What can I do for you, Alley?" Harry said and Ron was amazed at the calm in his voice.

"Well, you can invite me into your office," she lifted a dainty shoe. "I've been on my feet all day, you see."

"Actually, I was just on my way out," said Harry folding his arms over his chest.

Ron was mildly aware of Dean and Neville sidling up to him wanting to have a peek at the woman. She glanced their way and smiled coquettishly.

"I'm sorry, darling. I didn't know you had company."

Harry jaw clenched at the pet name and his eyes hardened. "Yeah, well. Maybe we'll catch up some other time."

Ron watched him turn and motion to one of the house elves to escort her back to the main gate. Allison slid a hand into her purse and pulled out a slip of parchment. Harry turned to walk back into his office, but she stopped him with a hand on his arm and he froze his face now stone.

"Harry, darling. Don't be so cold."

She stepped closer to him and her scent filled his nostrils.

"We have a history after all, and don't tell me that you have forgotten all of that, have you?"

Without turning to look at her he said in a low voice, "You know I haven't, Alley."

"Hmm, yes. Those were good times, Harry."

With a squeeze, she urged him to face her and he did so albeit very warily. She smirked up at him and pursed her lips.

"That's a dear."

Slowly, she slipped the parchment into his hand and his eyes flicked down to it. "I'm here for about a week," she purred. "If you're ever in the mood for some catching up, just send me an owl."

Then she took a step back and with a brief glance in Ron's direction, she followed the house elf back to the entrance, leaving Harry standing in his doorway staring at the parchment clasped in his hand.

He jammed it in his pocket.

Eyes bright and glinting with suppressed anger, Harry strode into his office and locked his gaze on Justin. He's a dead man. Ron thought, almost feeling sorry for the bugger.

"Did you get an eyeful?" Harry asked, pure irritation blazing in his eyes.

Justin watched his shoes. "Erm, yes," he said quietly.

"Satisfied?"

"You can…say that," said Justin, still not meeting his friend's gaze.

"Beautiful isn't she?"

"Listen, Harry I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't have and it was none of my business to let her in."

"You're right. It wasn't." Then he paused and waited for Justin to look at him. Slowly the blue irises rose to meet green and Justin forced himself not to cringe.

Harry's voice was low but the anger was still very much present. "What I decide to keep private stays private," he said. "The next time you want some entertainment pick up a sodding book."

And as if to enforce his statement, Harry went over to his desk, opened a drawer and pulled out a thick maroon tomb. He threw it at Justin who managed to catch it with a small "oomph". With a dark look at the man, Harry accioed his cloak, pulled it on and left his office saying, "Come on then, the lot of you. I bet you're hungry."

Dean cleared his throat and followed him out the door with Neville at his heels, struggling with his own cloak. Justin paused to flip the book over in his hands. The words Perspectives from the Past sprang at him in gold letters. Before he could open it and flip through in curiosity, Ron pulled at his sleeve.

"Come on, you. Harry won't leave without us."

Justin looked as if he was going to say something, but instead he shut his mouth and nodded, acquiesced. He shrunk the book and stuffed it in his pocket. Following Ron out of the office, he shut the door behind him.