Hi everyone!

Latest update ever - I know, and I'm sorry. I finished my study, started a new job and moved into a new house. It was a lot that happened in just a few months, and I needed the time to adjust. My new job requires me to work way more than before, so I hope to update every month from now on, but I won't make promises. I'm just glad that you lot stick around and that I still get notifications of likes, favorites en follows every few days. It makes me feel joyous and proud and I couldn't be more grateful for all you guys!

Right, the story - dancing lessons at first, more exposure for the story-line later.

Chapter warnings: mentions of violence, (self)harm. Arguments. Things are getting a bit more serious!

Enjoy reading!

Love,

Flora

Chapter 41: How Harry and Hermione stepped on each other's toes

'Front, back, step and step - and again! Front, back, step and -...'

Hermione tried her hardest to concentrate on her steps, but she couldn't help feeling that dancing just wasn't for her. In front of their part of the room stood a stern, older woman, with alarmingly neon-pink lipstick and a knot so tight it seemed like she had gotten a face-lift. She wore a fitting leotard in a screaming cyan colour with pink tutu-frills across her hips. It would have been a cute sight on a toddler. A decade ago.

The female students from her side of the room were all beginners – Hermione counted herself amongst the mousy, insecure girls, who wore baggy training clothes to not gain any attention, but were all eager to try nonetheless; but there were also some flashy, eager girls with big hair and composed outfits who seemed to be right in their element. Hermione envied them. She tugged on her loose shirt, tried to copy the newly-chanted steps and sighed. The girl next to her was so focused she had her tongue stuck out for the last five minutes and Hermione couldn't help but feel incredibly competitive when she noticed her nailing every step perfectly.

'And turn!' The woman said, shrilly, and now they faced the other side of the ballroom again. She caught a glimpse of the guys that were practicing with their male teacher - the boys were obviously also beginners, but a lot less eager than the girls. They were blunt, clumsy and a few seemed downright bored. It didn't take long for her to find the pair of emerald eyes she was looking for - they caught her immediately, as he had been focused on her for a lot longer, apparently. It seemed kind of childish, but capturing his gaze made her insides jump, and they broke out in laughter together, from across the room.

'Arms out, boys!' The male teacher yelled and the boys grunted. Harry gave her a knowing look as he exaggerated his movements to make her laugh. He was obviously doubting his presence in the class, but Hermione was glad he hadn't bolted for the door just yet.

'Dry practice is very important,' their teacher said later, as they took a break. 'The base has to be solid, after all, and your bases all leave much to be desired. Only when you've memorized the movements without distractions, can you be trusted to touch your partner.'

The girl next to Hermione tried to conceal her snicker with a made-up hiccup. Their dance-teacher noticed, huffed, and walked away, hoping to find more sympathetic listeners.

'Oh my God,' the girl whined, as soon as she was out of earshot. 'I thought last week was bad, but this-...'

'It's my first time,' Hermione said. 'What did I miss?'

'Nothing,' the girl answered with a smile. She had kind, brown eyes and black, heavy curls that tried to explode out of her ponytail. Hermione could relate. 'Believe me, you didn't miss anything. We were recommended this class by my boyfriend's great-aunt-...'

'Grandmother for me,' Hermione said and the girl laughed.

'That explains a lot! Who's with you?'

'The boy with the glasses and the insane hair,' Hermione said, pointing to Harry, who was gulping from his water bottle, chatting to another bloke. His hair was ridiculously wild, even by his standards. It was almost as long as it had been on the Horcrux Hunt. Molly would probably pester him to get it cut the next time they'd see her.

'Oh! He seems nice! Mine is the one in the back, trying to-... No Jake, it's in the front pocket, not-... Yeah, there!'

Hermione laughed as the girl next to her gave her a hand.

'Anyway, the name is Rowan. What's yours?'

Rowan became a friend. The next week they were dancing next to each other. The week after she, Rowan, Jake and Harry went for a drink in the pub. It became a tradition to unwind and gossip and get to know each other.

'Harry stepped on my toes only three times today,' Hermione joked, sipping at her white wine.

'And she only stepped on mine eight times, so I think we're improving,' Harry teased back.

'Be careful, your base has to be solid!' Rowan wailed, in a perfect impression of their teacher and they all laughed.

'I swear, if Robert tells me one more time to "pay more attention to my calves", I'm going to lose all my sanity,' Jake quipped, his hazel eyes friendly. 'Like, we went shopping the other day, I couldn't stop looking at how my legs fitted in the trousers. He's done something to my brain.'

'Hmm,' Harry agreed, finishing a sip of his ale. 'I was doing a stake-out today. Tedious anyway, but I swear, I had "front back step and step" engraved in there like some kind of-...'

'Wicked enchantment,' Rowan finished, laughing. 'Poor soul!'

'Any developments?' Jake inquired. 'I always dreamed of working for the police as a boy - it's so cool you actually get to do that-...'

Harry looked at Hermione and she smiled at him. He began to explain what they'd recapped only a few hours earlier: he'd had a hard time finding any leads, but when they reviewed the Pensieve-footage together, Hermione had noticed something interesting.

'I think we found something,' she'd said, as Harry and her both held watch, engrossed in another memory, Pensieve Harry disguised under his cloak. They both looked in the direction of the main street, where a girl a black coat with a singed waist tried very hard not to trip in her black lace boots with heels. Designer clothes, a hundred pound blonde hair cut, but her walk was noticeably off. Hermione and Harry had been revisiting parts of Harry's memory with his Pensieve, but they hadn't been able to form a pattern until today.

'She's visiting here every Tuesday, at the same time,' Harry nodded, skimming through their notes. He'd apparently noticed her once before, when she almost tripped over the threshold, because he had written it down with a date and a timestamp.

'Who is she?'

'Muggle girl,' Harry mumbled, looking through his papers. 'I'd have to do some more digging on her.'

'Wealthy Muggle girl,' Hermione said. 'Her clothes indicate her sense of fashion. It's kind of weird to not see her wear any make-up – she matches the laces of her boots with the color of her handbag. Her high-lights are immaculate. I'd expect at least a little lipgloss or mascara or something.'

Harry had blinked a few times and looked at her.

'You know, you really missed your calling,' he said. 'That is a great observation. Auror-worthy.'

Hermione snorted.

'Come on. You would have picked up on that.'

'Sooner or later,' Harry grinned. 'It would have taken me longer than just a few minutes. You're right – there's something fishy about that girl. That, and the fact that she spent all that money on those shoes, and she can't even walk in them.'

'Plus, her schedule is just... weird. She's visiting the apothecary. That shouldn't be so precisely timed each week, right?'

Hermione had seen the passionate glint in Harry's eyes, that she surely reciprocated right now. They were onto something. It was a welcome change after all those weeks of nothing.

'Now we have to find out who she is, and what happens in that apothecary,' Harry said. 'I'll see if I can post inside next Tuesday, but for now I'll get some intel from the Auror Department. You know, Holywell's mood really changed for the better after my apology.'

'Must have been that rare firewhiskey you got her as a present,' Hermione chuckled. 'You owe Polly for that particular intel.'

Harry had given her a lingering kiss on her lips before he went, leaving her flustered with a certain need in her lower belly, and it took Hermione half an hour of inner encouragement before she had been able to fully focus on the case before her. Their project wasn't the only case on her plate, after all.

'So, you have a lead on a suspicious individual?' Jake parroted Harry, his hazel eyes brimming. 'Oh, that's exciting! The most thrilling thing that happened at my work today was that Jimmy turned in his essay on Romeo and Juliet, but instead he named Romeo "Leonardo DiCaprio" throughout. Was the easiest F I've ever given, not gonna lie...'

They laughed. Harry asked more questions about Jake's work, then they shared some work experiences. She looked sideways, eyeing Harry as he described amicably how one of his earlier missions had been. He was doing so much better since they got together, she noticed. He was less tense, and especially around Muggle friends he acted like any other adolescent. Like he had never been the Chosen One, like he hadn't lost friends or survived a war. Rowan and Jake probably didn't even know yet that Harry was an orphan. They hadn't noticed the lightning bolt-shaped scar, or had been polite enough to not draw attention to it. There was no mentions of his fame in their interactions, no awe or weird comments. To them, Harry was just a gentle policeman who kind of sucked at his dancing lessons, but laughed at his own mistakes, and was genuinely nice to talk to. He was just a regular bloke.

Hermione was so glad he got to experience that. He deserved every single bit of it.

It was late when they arrived back at their apartment. They showered separately. When she got out of the bathroom, she found Harry in the bed, quill and parchment on his lap.

'What are you doing?' she asked amused, seeing how Harry stuck out his tongue in thought.

'Letters for Ron's Bachelor party,' he said. 'It's next weekend. I want everything to go smoothly.'

Hermione snickered.

'You know he's going to get a heart attack if you actually go through with what you've planned, right?'

'Right,' Harry nodded. 'But that's the general idea.'

She laughed out loud now, before getting in the bed too.

'Don't make it too late, will you?'

'I won't. Love you.'

He bent towards her and she chuckled, kissing him softly.

'Love you too. Sleep tight.'

'Sleep tight, Hermione.'

It was next Monday when Hermione, who had been researching a particular case-file about Goblins, had been surprised by a joyful Harry bursting into her office.

'I got intel!' he said, triumphantly, knocking a paper-weight from her table. He winced, picked it up and grinned at her sheepishly.

'Ah,' Hermione said, amused. 'It must be good, given the fact you've almost trampled my door.'

'Well, it is,' Harry said. 'I got the name of the girl - and an interesting lead.'

'Go for it,' Hermione said, but Harry shook his head.

'It's lunchtime. Want to join me for some sushi?'

The booth was cozy and the food was delicious. Hermione took a nice bite of salmon sashimi, dipped in avocado wasabi. Harry had taken out his notepad.

'So,' he said, chewing on an ebi roll, 'her name is Sandra Hall. She's 27 and until recently, worked at a Muggle fashion magazine as assistant-editor. Her reports were great. The ones I got my hands on state that she was heading towards a promotion.'

'Hmm,' Hermione said, pensively. 'Why did she resign?'

'That's the weird thing - she didn't,' Harry now almost whispered. 'She just stopped coming to work. I visited the apartment she rented in London - it's in pristine condition, aside from the dust, and her completely emptied closet.'

Hermione felt a twinge of excitement mixed with dread.

'Did you contact anyone regarding her sudden departure?' she asked. 'People must have noticed-...'

'Her landlord told me she came to her months ago, telling her that she could rent the place out again and keep all the furniture,' Harry replied. 'Some of it was designer, so she found it odd, but didn't complain. Luckily, she hasn't had the time to clean it out yet. I did some basic forensic spells. Nothing. If something bad happened to her, it didn't happen in her apartment.'

'Has she been reported missing?'

Harry shook his head, taking another roll.

'That's what's so odd - she just moved back. She was born here, she currently rents an apartment not too far from the apothecary, according to our data. I obviously haven't been there yet-...'

'You shouldn't,' Hermione said, 'not yet. You don't want to cause suspicion.'

'Yes,' Harry agreed. 'But I do want to interview someone close to her. Maybe one of her parents - they are still alive.'

Hermione worried her lip.

'I'm not sure, Harry... It might draw the wrong kind of attention.'

'Yes, or it will give us intel. Our own intel.'

Hermione looked into his eyes and sighed.

'Harry - just because you're not working with the Aurors anymore, doesn't mean you should risk exposing yourself for wanting to put your own mark on things.'

'I'm not!' Harry said, sharply. 'But this is suspicious, you've got to agree, right?'

'Yes, but if she is involved somehow-...'

'Which we won't know if we don't take risks,' Harry said, firmly. His eyes had that glint that meant he was determined.

Hermione sighed.

'Please, Harry. The reason you were fired-...'

'Don't bring that up,' Harry replied, the tension between them unpleasant.

'I have to bring it up,' Hermione emphasized. 'You can't be careless, there is too much at stake. If you-...'

'You don't trust me,' he said, offended. 'I have improved, Hermione. You have to see that too. I did everything according to the protocol over the last couple of weeks-...'

'And you should keep doing that,' Hermione interjected.

'I'm not saying that I won't!' Harry half-shouted. 'I will, I'll conduct a proper investigation beforehand, work with some sort of Polyjuice or Confundus charm-...'

'I'm not convinced it's necessary,' Hermione said. She felt her throat tighten.

'Not convinced? Hermione, Sarah might be in serious trouble. She left her supposed dream job, abandoned her hard-fought apartment for absolutely no reason and now she turns up stumbling her way into a very suspicious apothecary!'

'You don't know that she didn't have a reason,' Hermione fired back. 'Maybe she just has a sick relative that she wants to take care of!'

'Maybe she does - but how on earth will I find out about that if I don't ask around?!' Harry snapped. 'With all due respect, Hermione, you are an amazing lawyer, but this is my gut speaking. There is something going on, and I-...'

'No,' Hermione interrupted him. Her breathing was heavy, she noticed, as if she'd been running.

'What?'

Harry's voice was soft now, a contrast to what it had been moments earlier.

'No,' Hermione said, firmer now. 'Your "gut" has gotten us into more trouble than we need right now. I agree that it's suspicious, and that is something to pay attention to for your next observation, but Muggles have their privacy as well. They deserve just as much respect as any other person-...'

'Well, what's she going to do with all that respect if she's dead?!' Harry snapped. He threw down his chopsticks and folded his arms.

'She is still walking around,' Hermione replied coolly. 'I doubt she's dead. Maybe Obliviated, but that is something you can determine from your stake-outs.'

Harry huffed and then shook his head in disbelief. The tension was thick and heavy, like a suffocating blanket, and it took a few moments for Harry to regain his posture.

'You're making a mistake, Hermione,' he finally said.

'I'm not,' she replied, her voice shaking. 'I am rational-...'

'That's the problem,' Harry mumbled, picking up his chopsticks again.

Something snapped. Hermione felt her throat clench.

'No, that's not the problem,' she snarled, 'the problem is that you are too stubborn to think. We are covering a problem that involves Goblins - that is our jurisdiction! This girl might be a lead, but I will not throw caution to the wind because of some supposed theory you have, Harry! You will just continue to work on stake-outs, without revealing yourself, without interviewing or investigating this any further until we have more information! This is precisely the reason why Greengrass was worried-...'

'THERE COULD BE A LIFE AT STAKE,' Harry now bellowed over her, looking furious. 'This wouldn't be the first victim whose body is harvested for Polyjuice, whose life is used to create an alibi! It has all the classic signs - if she is held captive somewhere, we have a race against the clock to face! Don't tell me Greengrass has corrupted you so much that you think your stupid fucking protocol is more important than the life of a HUMAN BEING?'

The buzzing place was now eerily quiet. They were eyed by bystanders and staff. Harry looked straight back at them, but Hermione just watched her plate, feeling absolutely crushed. Slowly the customers began conversing again, but they were given some worried glances.

Harry didn't care. He sniffed, brushed his napkin against his mouth, then rose from his chair.

'I shouldn't have put you in this position, I'm sorry. You are my boss, and I will listen to you,' he said, his voice fragile. 'But know that, as a friend, I am very disappointed in you.' Then he threw his jacket over his shoulder, put 50 pounds on the table and left.