A note to readers: This is the latest re-post of Wheels Within Wheels, which I'm now posting in proper chapter-by-chapter format. The purpose of redoing this story is to make it readable in a larger variety of devices, since some mobile apps limit the size of downloads. Comments are always welcome. If there is anything more that I can do to fix a problem for the readership, please don't hesitate to bring it to my attention and I'll see about correcting it.
Chapter Six
We Really Do Have To Stop This Or People Will Start To Talk
Harry awoke before his crowing alarm went off. He thought he recalled a dream, one without any details, just a stag walking in fog. He smiled, thinking of the fun Professor Trelawney would have had with that one. For Professor Trelawney, denizen, in her own mind, far more in the Realm of The Beyond than she was in the Mundane (her actual words), the more obscure the imagery, the more informative the dream. The absence of detail was the Beyond communicating a message, that the item that missing from the dream was the whole point. What was missing? What if everything were missing? Everything but the stag, and the fog? All the better! Trelawney could have spoken for an entire period on the omission of owls, gold, or horseshoe crabs. She could have written a scholarly paper on the absence of trilobites. No cuttlefish in the fog? Well, there you go!
Harry started laughing. Harry's memories of Hogwarts consisted of really high highs, and the lowest of lows. Voldemort tried to kill him his first year, but that was also the year he found Ron, Hermione, and a previously unknown taste for adventure. On one hand, his life was in danger and he experienced terror, but on the other, with the help of real friendship, an experience he had never before known, he faced fear, and physical threat, and defeated both.
Going through his morning routine, Harry thought about the day ahead. He had discovered through experience the truth of the adage, "Work is therapy." Maybe it wasn't true for every single person, but it was for him, and he never hesitated to recommend it. Trouble was, the wizarding criminals of London were not generating a lot of work for the aurors. Thus, Harry did not have much hope that work alone would be sufficient to distract him from the events of the previous day.
As he shaved, Harry started drafting a mental To Do list. He had never visited the Black properties Sirius had willed him. He had contented himself with looking around #12, getting repairs made where needed, gradually developing his dojo, expelling doxies, and trying not to provoke Walburga Black's portrait into a fit of pureblood hatefulness.
Now that he knew something of the extent of his Potter inheritance, Harry knew he had to visit both the Potter and Black properties as soon as possible. He could not delay any longer accepting his responsibilities. The people, and goblins, who worked on his behalf were doing very well by him, according to the accounting data he'd been shown at Gringott's. They deserved to know that ownership recognized their efforts and would do right by them in return. Then there were the 'passive investments' Ragnak spoke of. What in the world did he own? Gringott's idea of a good investment could be at odds with the ethical requirements for public service as an auror. Very much at odds, as a matter of fact.
Then the Agreement. He would be thinking about the Agreement, no matter what else was going on. Picking up his leather satchel with the Agreement inside, he clipped the rhinestone leash on Raffles and stepped into the fireplace, saying "Ministry of Magic" as he dropped the floo powder.
Stumbling out into the Atrium, Harry nearly collided with Hermione Weasley, also just arriving for work.
"Smooth," commented Hermione.
"Thank Merlin It's Friday," laughed Harry.
"Harry, what's with the dog?" asked Hermione.
"Evidence," said Harry. "Seriously," he added, in response to Hermione's raised eyebrow. "He was taken from a suspect, who claimed she had borrowed him to give her some cover while she carried out her nefarious deed. We kept him when we let her go, figuring she wouldn't be in a state of mind to get him back safely. Plus, we wanted to check him over ourselves in case he was an animagus, but that came up negative, so we don't have any further reason to keep him. I took him home overnight so he wouldn't be lonely. Now we've spent a day trying to locate his shelter, without result. And he's spent another night with me. He belongs to someone, I can't see just leaving him at a shelter, but I don't know what to do instead.
Hermione gave him an 'Oh, Harry' look, but didn't say anything.
"Change of subject: I need a lawyer."
"Harry, you're in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. You're surrounded by lawyers."
"Wrong kind of lawyers. I need someone who can advise me on wizarding family law. Actually, it's a subset of wizarding family law."
Hermione pursed her lips.
"Harry, do you have a child, or a concubine, or something else I don't know about?"
"Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no. Nothing like that. I'm a principal in a marriage agreement. Apparently, I have been one since before I was born, totally unbeknownst to me. Something my parents did with some friends, it seems. I just found out yesterday, at a meeting at Gringott's. There is a way we can abrogate it, it just costs a percentage of the bonds our families put up. I just want a specialist to look over the text and tell me I haven't missed some trip hazard or other. The goblins, you know. They'll stick to the letter of the agreement, which can be costly, if a witch or wizard doesn't explore all the possible ramifications."
"Give me an hour," said Hermione. "Who's the lucky girl?"
"Daphne Greengrass. Do you know her?"
Hermione stopped walking.
"Know her? We were in class with her. She had blond hair, usually sat next to Tracey Davis, who I think was her cousin. Tracey made noise, Daphne was quiet. Whenever you had a double class with Slytherin, she would have been in there. She was really nice, when you could get her to talk. She never once called me a mudblood, highly unusual for a Slytherin. Remember when you picked up the quill in the corridor, and asked me to stop the girl who dropped it? That was Daphne Greengrass."
"I DO remember her! I didn't even know her name, so that's why you had to help me out," Harry said with a laugh. "I didn't recognize her when I met her yesterday. In fact, I drew a complete blank, had to think fast, ad lib a little greeting. She has changed. What year did I pick up her quill?"
"Third year, late in the term," said Hermione. "Kind of an active year. Probably just got lost in the scrum. Plus, we have all grown up and changed a bit over the years."
"It would have, wouldn't it?" mused Harry. "That was around the time the Dementors almost sucked out my soul while we were subverting the course of justice by misusing a time turner while stealing a condemned hippogriff to use in springing an escaped convict. In my defense, I was not a sworn officer of the law when I did those acts which I acknowledge today were unlawful, and which I attribute to a surfeit of youthful exuberance."
"So, of course it is reasonable that it would slip your mind," Hermione assured him, "that you had a casual encounter with your fiancee in the corridor at school, after which you ignored her for fourteen years while engaging in a volatile affair with your quidditch teammate while your fiancee turned into a gorgeous professional woman of whom you were blissfully unaware. Yeah, you'll want to get out of that one, no matter what it costs. I'll get you some names, if you'll give me an hour. Good luck, Harry," she said with a laugh, "Be sure to keep us informed."
"She's not my fiancee!" Harry called after her. Then, without looking, he took a step in the direction of his office and collided with Daphne Greengrass.
"Why Mr. Potter," said Daphne, "may I ask what you are doing walking my dog on a rhinestone leash through the atrium of the Ministry of Magic?"
The first thought to emerge in Harry's reeling mind was, "Did my fiancee just confess to conspiring to attack the Head Auror in broad daylight in Hyde Park?"
His second thought was, "Thank Merlin It's Friday."
His third thought was, "She's NOT my fiancee!"
"Miss Greengrass, how nice to see you, and how fortuitous. We need to talk," said Harry. "If you will accompany me."
"Mr. Potter," said Daphne, "If I may retrieve my dog from you, I am here to attend to a minor administrative matter, to wit, renewal of a professional license. I have no time for a personal discussion with you. Besides, you are on Ministry time and I'm sure supervisory levels would like to see you settling in to another day of your legendary productivity. Did you get my response to your message?"
"I did. And such a lovely card, Miss Greengrass, it struck just the right note. I awoke this morning anticipating the Greengrass family getting in touch, whenever that might be. But this isn't about us, in that sense. It is about us, in a law enforcement sense, and I must insist you accompany me to an office for a chat. Just a little clarification."
"Am I under arrest, Mr. Potter? Because when the Head Auror insists a citizen in the midst of going peaceably about her business shall accompany said Head Auror to an office for a chat, I hear—please forgive me-words, like arrest, interrogation, and rights."
"Well, Miss Greengrass, as I understand the ethical and legal restraints, given the news I received just yesterday afternoon, concerning our personal relationship, I can't arrest…"
"Alright, Potter, magic save me, just shut up," she growled. "I'll go with you to your sit-down, just shut up out here in the atrium, will you? Reporters hang out here, and if something gets into the Prophet with your name, my name, and the phrase 'personal relationship' anywhere in the text, there will be ramifications. That will damage me. And that you, at the very least, will not like at all."
Harry didn't answer right away. Instead, he looked Daphne Greengrass in the eye. "She's taller than me," he thought. "Maybe not, maybe she's wearing heels. I wonder what that perfume is? It smells great on her. Our individual body chemistries affect how scents smell when body heat activates them, that's why cologne and perfumes smell different on different individuals. Why am I thinking about this? I might have to buy her a make up gift sometime. Flowers might be better. Can't go wrong with flowers. Does she like chocolate? She does smell good. I don't think I've ever smelled anyone who smelled as good as she does."
"Ahem," Harry began. "That probably would be a wise course of action…"
"Then may I suggest, Potter, that you stop talking and get us out of here, NOW," she hissed.
"Again, with the wisdom, right this way, ah, ah, uhhh, and just down this corridor…"
"Stop with the ah-uh. I know you know how to talk, unless chasing crooks has dumbed you down. Now you've forced me to insult you on Ministry premises. If you coerce uncivil discourse from me I will take note. This is all your fault, Potter, and the Wizengamot will agree with me."
They were soon at the entrance to a small, main floor auror office. It did not have standard interrogation rooms, as the main office did, but it did have a comfortable hold room for supporting VIP visits and meetings. Harry escorted Daphne in and got her seated, then handed her Raffles' leash.
"Can I offer you coffee, tea, water, or pumpkin juice?" Harry asked. "I have to step out and ask another officer to join us, so I can ask the folks outside…"
"Nothing for me, Head Auror, if we could just move ahead. I have a full calendar today."
Harry closed the door to the hold room and crossed the outer office.
"I need Dobbs up here right away. Ask her to bring the dog's water bowl with her, it should be behind the desk. Then I'll need a pitcher of water inside."
When Harry went back inside the hold room, he noticed Raffles' leash was no longer a string of rhinestones, but a tasteful, round-braid, dark blue leather. He resolved to get the discussion to a higher level, and keep it there.
"Gosh, this is fortuitous, I've been dog sitting the last two nights, didn't want the little guy hanging out with the overnight shift down here. That's when life gets really interesting for aurors. Is his name really Raffles? Because that is what we were told, and it looks like it suits him. He does seem to be glad to see you. Is he magical, or muggle? As dogs go, that is."
Daphne Greengrass put her arm on the back of the sofa, bent it at the elbow, and reached for a strand of hair that needed pushing behind her ear, all the while keeping her eyes on Harry's.
Harry found himself taking inventory: Navy suit, white blouse with the collar worn out and folded back over the jacket collar and lapels ("Always liked that look, but why am I thinking about this now? Dark blue nail polish. Blue! Navy Blue! She can get away with it though, can't she?), Navy and white shoes, with heels, but not really high heels. Why am I thinking about this? And why do those eyes of hers freeze me like this?
"Sir?" asked Dobbs, looking around the edge of the door.
"Come on in, auror, have a seat," said Harry. "Miss Greengrass, may I present Auror Dobbs? Auror, this is Miss Daphne Greengrass. Miss Greengrass related to me that our friend Raffles is hers. It seems our subject from Wednesday was walking Miss Greengrass' dog at the time of our encounter."
Harry redirected his attention to Daphne. "Was the lady walking the dog with your permission?"
"Yes, indeed, Head Auror, if the lady was Ivy Fletcher. She is my dog walker, and has an unfortunate proclivity for customizing Raffles' leash with rhinestones. She came to me as a patient, I try to keep her gainfully employed in the legitimate economy. That would be the legitimate magical economy. I don't know how or why she got on your sneak-o-scope, and I don't want to learn under these circumstances because I'm skating along the edge of an ethical abyss, just by having this conversation. If you're done with me, I'd like to take Raffles and begin my day, or I'll be at the office all night. And, of course, thank you for getting Raffles back to me"
Harry looked at Dobbs, who gave a barely noticeable nod while keeping her eyes on Daphne.
"Good," said Harry. "This has been very helpful, and on behalf of the auror office, I'd like to thank you for your support."
Harry stood and opened the door. "This has been delightful. If we work together again I can only hope things go half as well. This way to the atrium. Ms. Dobbs, I'll catch you back here just as soon as Miss Greengrass is safely on her way."
"Head Auror, it appears you do know how to treat a girl right, after all" said Daphne, lightly laying her fingers on Harry's arm. "Are you turning this on just for me, or is this standard auror social graces training?"
Harry looked at her and grinned, but didn't say anything.
Dobbs continued watching them until they disappeared around the corner. "Well, I'll be darned. The Head Auror is SO toast," Dobbs thought.