Chapter Nine

"No no, you should get married now! Don't you see, the plan is working perfectly! They'll leave Potter alone in no time." Leo stared at Shacklebolt in disbelief. Harry looked just as skeptical, although not as upset.

"That's…ridiculous logic, sir."

"Would you prefer to watch Harry Potter be torn limb from limb by ravenous females?" Leo raised his eyebrows, contemplating this. He hesitated for so long, Harry leaned forward and slapped Leopold unceremoniously on the back of his head.

"How much does Potter really need his limbs?" He asked, rubbing his now sore head. Harry and Shacklebolt ignored this question.

"But, sir, if we get married—can we—no one will believe it, right?" Harry asked, a note of hope in his voice.

"Everyone will believe it if we have a public ceremony. No! A private ceremony that we only tell one reporter about," Shacklebolt said, looking vaguely excited. Leopold glanced at Harry, who glanced back and shrugged. That was not the response he wanted. Why wouldn't Harry argue? Why was he going along with this? "The nastiest reporter we can find."

"Merlin. I cannot believe my life right now. Can we at least get a free honeymoon?"

"Get out of my office, Ackerley. And I want you two married by tomorrow or you're both sacked." Leo stood up and slunk out of the office, Harry, far less despondent, following behind him.

"What did the producer of Leopold's misery say this time?" Roger asked as they entered the cubicle. He was gleefully reading Witch Weekly, highlighting his favorite parts. Leo pulled out his wand and blew up the magazine without hesitation. The three of them looked up at the shreds of paper fluttering around them. "Hey!" Leopold rolled his eyes, throwing himself in his chair. Harry stood at the entrance, leaning against the wall.

"He said Leo and I are to be married. By tomorrow." Roger spit out the mouthful of coffee he had been consuming. It sprayed all over his desk and part of Leo's. Leo leapt aside making noises of extreme revulsion. "That was disgusting, by the way."

"Married?!" Roger began to laugh heartily. He pushed his cup aside, clutching his stomach in exaggerated mirth. Leo glanced at Harry, who looked to be on the verge of laugher himself. Leo decided that he needed to make more friends who would be more sympathetic to his plight. "That man is an evil genius!"

"I hate you sometimes, Roger."

"Don't hate me, hate Matchmaker Shacklebolt." Roger redoubled his laughter. "I must tell the guys about this. Cho will want to do your hair!"

"You're my best friend, Roger, but I will not hesitate to bat-bogey hex you right here, right now."

"You are an angry groom, Leo. I'm sorry you have to live with this, Potter. But, you know, no one will question you if he suddenly drops dead, you being the chosen one after all."

"I don't quite want to resort to murder yet," Harry replied, smirk on his face.

"Why are you two enjoying this?" Leo whined.

"Because you're not enjoying it," Harry and Roger answered. Leo groaned at the conspiracy, head drooping.

"You are horrible people."

"And yet you're stuck with both of us for the rest of your life," Roger responded. "Should we go get you some new dress robes? Oh! A bachelor party! I have to owl Terry!" Roger started searching for a piece of clean parchment and a quill.

"You make me so sad," Leo muttered, glancing from Harry to Roger, both of whom looked as though they were having the time of their lives. "Both of you.

"Stop being such a child. I don't hear Harry complaining, and really, he's got the raw end of the deal." Roger started gathering up the pieces of his exploded magazine to repair it. Leo waited until he was done to blow up the magazine again. Roger glared at Leo mutinously.

"If you're so fond of Harry, why don't you marry him?" Leo shot back, resisting the urge to blow up Roger's coffee mug as well.

"Are you kidding? I could do better than Harry Potter, if I do say so myself." Roger haughtily leaned back in his chair. Leo laughed despite himself.

"Hey! You're supposed to be on my side," Harry said indignantly, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Being on your side doesn't mean I have to be in love with you, Potter. That's Leo's job." Leo cut his laughter short as Roger favored them with another one of his over exaggerated, ingratiating belly laughs. Leo's lip curled in disgust and Roger stopped abruptly when he glanced at the look on Leo's face. "Al right, all right. Enough fooling around. We have a wedding to plan."

"Have you been experimenting with potions again, Roger? We're going to get an official, some stupid nosy reporter and that's it. A five minute process, at the most."

"How romantic," Roger muttered. "You sure do know how to show a guy a good time."

"One more comment and the healers will have to find your limbs to reattach them." Roger dismissed the threat with an unconcerned wave of his hand. Harry snorted derisively, watching the exchange with amusement. He didn't say anything, though, perhaps for fear of dismemberment. "I'm not kidding, Roger. We're only doing this because Shacklebolt told us to, there's no need to make a huge production out of it."

"You're no fun, Leo, you really aren't. Can we at least celebrate afterwards? You know we love excuses to celebrate."

"We'll see." Leo rolled his eyes, pulling out a sheet of parchment. He set to work writing to the various people who needed to be informed of his and Harry's impending bonding. "Where's your trainee?"

"Storage. I told her to reorganize. I tripped over a shrunken head the other day when I was in there. Almost broke my damn neck," Roger said, looking over Leo's shoulder, shaking his head disapprovingly. Leo snickered, suddenly thinking of a way to get Harry back.

"I see. Harry, go help her."

"What?! I'm not your house elf!" Harry said in outrage.

"Maybe so, but as my trainee, you're required to do as I ask. Who is to say that cleaning out the storage room isn't an important part of your training?" Harry glared at Leo in intense anger. Leo's smile widened as he rolled up his first finished letter.

"That's a load of bollocks! At least let me send that letter or something!"

"Now, now, Potter. You signed a binding magical contract when you began your auror training. You know about those, right? Something tells me you're well acquainted with doing things you don't want to do."

"And getting more and more acquainted with it the longer I associate with you," Potter growled, storming out of the room. Leo snickered to himself.

"You're mean, my friend," Roger said, trying and failing to be reproachful.

"Both you and Shacklebolt have made it your personal missions to make my life miserable. I need to stay cheerful somehow."