November 2nd, 2005

Harry's flat

He winces.

The pain from the new healing wound he now has because of the bullet he took for Hermione is an annoying reminder that he's an idiot. Sighing, he crumbles down on his couch and sips on a beer - a muggle beer he was able to smuggle. He got three days leave from work and is using his free time to go over his plan of revenge. Not that he hadn't already. Since Harry was old enough to understand what had happened to his parents he's been obsessed with it. He remembers nights he would barely sleep because of the many ways he imagined himself destroying Tom Riddle's life.

It was a reality that seemed out of reach.

But now he's here. In London. Close to Riddle. Now, he finally might get what he's been wanting for more than fifteen years. It's an overwhelming and exhilarating notion.

He taps his wand on his thigh while he observes the mental map he magically drew on the wall. People, evidences, what he wants. His plan is simple, actually. Infiltrate the Ministry, find the evidences of what really happened to his parents, expose Tom Riddle and end this Blood Supremacy nonsense. He moves his wand and pulls an indicator from the word 'people'.

Maybe that's the best place to start. Harry has a good idea who are the ones he must observe and investigate. Again, with his wand, he starts writing on the wall:

- Lucius Malfoy; Draco Malfoy; Narcissa Malfoy.

- Arthur Weasley; Molly Weasley; Ronald Weasley; Ginny Weasley (Malfoy).

- Peter Pettigrew; Asmodeus Pettigrew.

- Sirius Black; Eleonora Black; Sally Black.

- Remus Lupin; Nymphadora Lupin; Ted Lupin.

- Tom Riddle; Bellatrix Riddle; Hermione Riddle.

He stops at the last name and chews the insides of his cheeks. It's a bit hard to associate Hermione with someone like Tom Riddle. Her father is an assassin. But she was nice to him, warm - apart from the moments she was on his tail just waiting for a tiny slip on his part to send him away, of course. He opens a side smile. Her total shock when he said the Minister himself request his transference was priceless. It wasn't easy, but getting Tom Riddle to notice him as an Auror was the first part of his plan.

Harry was invited to join Aurora: Scuola di Magia when he turned eleven and like most Wizarding Schools, he spent years learning and understanding his magic. He was the best student, excelling in every subject and doing his best to leave school and enter the Auror training as soon as possible. He knew being number one was essential to someone like Riddle. Harry lost count on how many articles about the Minister he gathered and studied throughout the years. It became clear that, powerful, strong and skillful wizards were sought out by him in order to raise his Ministry above any other. It's pretty much like Hermione said, no one bellow average even has a chance in making the final cut and that's mostly because of the way Riddle controls things.

He stands from the couch and crosses his arms, a bottle of beer in one hand and his wand in the other, his eyes on the wall. He wonders what Hermione would do if she knew he was the one who started the fight between the Italian and British Aurors she mentioned. Harry is not one to incite violence, but he needed a reason to talk to his Minister and suggest the idea of an offer of peace with the British. He volunteered to move to London and try to appease things a bit. When Lorenzo - the Italian Minister - talked to Riddle after the brawl between Aurors, Harry's words were spoken and the idea taken, with one condition, of course: Riddle would only accept THE best Auror, mentioning that he knew a certain D'Angelo was it.

And here I am, Tom.

From what he understood, Hermione has no idea about this deal her father made with Lorenzo and it surprised Harry a bit. The moment he discovered she was Head Auror, he immediately presumed her position was only a way for Riddle to manipulate the Aurors, but he can't shake the way he talked harshly to Hermione at the Fair. It seems like she's the real one in charge of her Aurors and that's not what Harry expected. It makes sense in a way... she's his daughter. She wouldn't betray him.

He takes another sip from his bottle and goes over all the names on the wall again. There are surely other people involved in his parents' assassination, but for him to know their names and faces, he must focus on… the evidence. Harry pulls an indicator from the word and proceeds to write what he knows:

- It happened on October 31st, 1981.

- Five Aurors (who?) were sent by the Minister to the location.

- They found out about the location because of Peter Pettigrew (and possibly Black and Lupin).

- It was reported that James and Lily tried to kill the Aurors without a conversation (lies).

- The Minister considered the mission a success.

- Some uprisings took over England as many thought the action extreme, but Riddle muffled them violently.

- Since then, the Potters are used as example as to how tainting your blood and family is dangerous.

Harry exhales heavily. The Potters' Persecution was the only thing people talked about at the time, but he knows little about it because most was kept hidden. Only one place holds all the information he needs: the Ministry's Archives. He needs to know who were the five Aurors that night, he needs to be sure. He also wants to read the interrogation his father went through when they started suspecting his mother's bloodline. And he's certain Pettigrew gave away their location, but were Black and Lupin involved? In a way he thinks that how they betrayed James was worse than the hatred Riddle incited against Muggles and Muggleborns.

He sets his jaw remembering how Asmodeus talked about his mother at the meeting room.

This leads him to 'what I want' on the wall:

- Punch Pettigrew's face.

- Destroy the lives of everyone remotely involved in what happened to my parents.

- Help the rebels and their uprisings.

- Stop the hate discourse against Muggles and Muggleborns.

- Kill Tom Riddle's family.

He sighs and walks around inside his living room while he ends his beer. His main goal has always been clear and simple: the man who took from him the chance of having a family shouldn't have one. So, it disturbs him that on the first day he got there, he saved Riddle's daughter's life!

Harry grunts.

"This can't be an issue." He says out loud. "She means nothing to me, there's no reason why I shouldn't end her." He takes a deep breath and runs a hand through his hair. He admits he felt something towards Hermione. An attraction. But that doesn't matter. "She's just a means to an end." They all are. His fellow Aurors and anyone else he eventually meets. None of them matter.

A bit calmer he sits back down on his couch, the wound on his back hurting. Harry summons the potion for his pain and makes a face at it. Inevitably he remembers Hermione's soft hand on his at the Hospital… and her gentle kiss on his cheek pops into his mind. It's been happening a lot more often than he wished. "Stop acting like a horny teenager, Harry." He mumbles and swallows the potion.

Nothing will stop him from getting what he wants.

November 4th, 2005

Ministry of Magic

He was greeted as a hero. And Harry can't say he's not shocked. Of course, he was expecting some kind of handshake for saving the Head Auror, but in his mind it didn't even come close to what actually happened.

The moment he stepped at the Auror's floor, people cheered and applauded him. And he immediately saw her in the crowd. A big smile on her face and strong claps. He averted his eyes quickly trying his best not to show how her attention and recognition made him hesitant.

After he thanked everyone, most people scattered around going back to their duties, but some stayed behind and talked to him. Harry was patient and charming, welcoming to anyone who might want to be his friend. All the time he kept in mind that in order to be accepted into this environment and position he needed to do this - he indeed noticed many displeased faces in the crowd while they clapped. And in a way he understands, he just got transfered from Italy, something that doesn't help him at all. But Harry needs their trust, their informations, their connections.

So, he talks and laughs and shrugs off his action of saving Hermione as something he would have done no matter what. But the truth is… he has no idea why he did it.

"Okay, okay, let the man breathe." Hermione says as she approaches Harry and two other Aurors. "We have work to do, people." She says pointedly to the two Aurors and just like that they excuse themselves and head back to their desks.

Hermione finally turns to Harry. She's wearing her Auror uniform today and he had no idea these clothes could look so good on someone. Since she's Head Auror, her entire outfit is red with hints of black, opposed to the one Harry is wearing.

He has no idea what to say or how to act. Which is unsettling.

"I-" They say at the same time.

She looks down and he gulps. "Please, you first." He says.

"Well, I just wanted to thank you again for… saving my life." He presses his lips together and shrugs a bit, like it was no big deal. Hermione takes a step closer to him and he stands on alert. They're in the middle of the room, all Aurors around. Harry's pretty sure most of them are watching their interaction. But, lowering her voice, Hermione says, "But don't think that will give you any kind of privilege here, D'Angelo." He opens his mouth. He didn't do it thinking about advantages or- He tilts his head at her small smile. She's teasing me, isn't she? "Back to work, okay?"

Opening a tiny smile he nods and turns to walk away, but… "Head Auror," She raises both eyebrows at his call, "I'm glad you're well." That blush comes up her neck and that's the only thing stopping him from immediately regretting his words. He has no idea what possessed him to say that.

Hermione clears her throat and is ready to walk away when a memo stops between them, clearly addressed to both. They frown. Harry watches while she reads it, discreetly noticing little signs of distress on her, like the way she tightens her jaw and holds the memo too fiercely. But she hides it pretty fast.

"Well," She says to him while putting down the memo, "the Minister wants to talk to us. Now."

Harry was waiting for this, so, he nods. They walk in silence to the elevator and he understands that something compelled him to save her. Maybe he wasn't thinking at the time, but deep down he knew his action would be rewarded. He's sure Tom Riddle will look at him differently now and maybe this can open some doors. Maybe he can get into their inner circle more easily.

They enter the elevator and he can't help noticing that Hermione looks… nervous. She's fidgeting by his side, cracking her knuckles and swifting her weight from one foot to another. He wonders if she's aware how kind of an open book she is.

Such an interesting read.

Still in total silence they exit the elevator to a private floor. The Minister's office is only accessible to those summoned by him. Harry noticed the elevator stopped for a bit before really opening. It was recognizing and allowing them in. It's ridiculous to think that the Minister has a whole floor to himself, but following his logical way of thinking, Tom Riddle surely considers himself the only one worthy of such privacy and greatness.

The whole floor is chilling. Dark walls, red carpet. There's some kind of waiting room with couches and chairs near a huge double door, and in the middle of it, a statue of Riddle himself. Harry can't help raising an eyebrow. Just as tacky as the statue at the Atrium. They're only a few steps aways from the door when Harry asks:

"Why are you so nervous?"

Hermione stops. Harry frowns. "What makes you think I'm nervous?"

"Well, I- it seemed that you-" He stutters a bit and she interrupts.

"Listen, D'Angelo," Her posture changes and the anxious woman Harry saw since she read the memo is totally gone. He's talking to the Head Auror now. And she's confident and… threatening. "Just because you took a bullet for me doesn't mean you know me. At all." Her eyes narrow and he crosses his arms in a defensive manner. "I hope you don't forget your place. I'm your boss."

Harry raises both eyebrows and presses his lips together. He nods. "I'm aware."

"Good."

Without another word, she turns and knocks on the door. In a second it opens inward for them.

Harry doesn't know what he was expecting, but Tom Riddle's office surprises him. It's luxurious and warm with a gigantic fireplace and five huge windows that allow the Minister to watch all floors from his chair. The man himself has his hands resting together on his huge table, his posture of someone that has been waiting. And he clearly doesn't like that. Harry's eyes travel to two huge shelves on the wall opposed to the fireplace and he realizes books and files are kept there. Shit. Chances that his parent's file is there are extremely high. And that complicates things a bit.

"What took you so long?" Riddle's voice cut through the air and Harry finally gives the man his full attention.

It's odd to be this close to the person who ruined his entire life. Harry imagined this moment a few countless times and almost in every one of them, he would walk to Riddle and reveal his true identity proudly, finally able to avenge his parents while he told the man that his family was now dead. Murdered by his own hands.

But reality is very different. Patience.

"We came as soon as we got the memo, Sir." Hermione says.

They stand side by side since the Minister hasn't told them to sit. There are three huge empty couches in the room. Riddle leans back on his chair and his eyes leave his daughter to focus on Harry. He can't help thinking what this Blood Supremacist would do if he knew he was looking at Harry Potter.

"You look familiar, D'Angelo. Why is that?" Riddle asks.

Harry takes a few seconds to answer... "I don't know, Sir. Maybe you saw my face in one of the many articles about me in Italy."

"Maybe." There's a pause, "You're after all the best, aren't you?" Harry doesn't answer. "I hope you can fit here, D'Angelo." Harry nods curtly. "But we'll talk later. First," Riddle finally stands and pockets his hands. "Hermione, I've been postponing this conversation but-" He's interrupted by a knock on the door. Riddle waves his hand and Harry watches as Pettigrew enters the office. The man smiles at Hermione and barely turns his head to Harry. And if he thinks about it now, Pettigrew wasn't there when people greeted him earlier. "Ah, Pettigrew. Good. You got here just in time. I want to know exactly what happened at the Fair." Harry frowns. He was gone for three days and in his mind this subject was already dealt with… "I've already talked with the Malfoys and Weasley and now I want to hear from you."

Hermione clears her throat. "It happened fast. A woman was cursed and started yelling the message they never tire repeating about Lily Evans."

"Our shields didn't work," Pettigrew continues, "and bullets are fast, our reaction was-"

"A disgrace." Riddle says sharply. Harry sees Pettigrew setting his jaw. "Do you know how many purebloods died that night? Any idea? Huh?" No one dares even breathing, "Ninety-eight." Harry looks down. That's… a lot. "And you said you had it under control, Hermione." The same harshness Harry heard on that night is back.

"I take full responsibility." She says with a steady voice. "If it wasn't for D'Angelo's fast reaction I'm sure many more would be dead. He was the first to realize the shields wouldn't work and started dispersing the bullets one by one the best he could."

Harry widens his eyes a bit, his heart beating a tad faster. Pettigrew snorts but doesn't refuse Hermione's words.

"Is that so, D'Angelo?" Riddle tilts his head, as if amused by this new foreigner Auror.

"I think so, Sir." He's glad his voice is normal enough for the occasion.

"Maybe I should make you Head of the Department, huh? What about that? It's a tempting idea since my daughter is clearly not up to such an important position!"

Hermione inhales sharply and Harry feels a sudden urge to defend her.

"If I may, Sir?" He asks. Riddle narrows his eyes but moves his hand for Harry to go ahead. "If it wasn't for Head Riddle I'm not sure I would be in the right state of mind to act so fast." He thinks for a second if he should reveal this and decides he should, "I was Head Auror in Italy." He senses Hermione's head turning slightly to look at him - probably in shock because that information wasn't in his file. He decided to keep it for a moment he might find ideal. "And I often saw that an Auror who trusts his superior works better and with a clearer mind. Many times I was saved by my inferiors at the heat of the moment. Not because I didn't think myself worthy or capable to be in that position, but mostly because when on the field… the Head Auror can't think only about himself, Sir. He thinks about all his Aurors and what they might need. It's a big responsibility and Head Riddle led the mission brilliantly in that aspect."

His words are followed by a heavy silence.

"Very well." The Minister finally says. "I'll take your words into consideration, D'Angelo. After all you also saved Hermione's life and for that I'm grateful." Riddle looks down. "Hermione and Asmodeus, deal with the press the best you can on this matter." They nod. "You'll also start an investigation on what happened. I want to know how whoever shot those bullets got hold of those kind of muggle guns. I also want to know if there were Mudbloods involved. I want names, do you understand? Someone needs to pay for this!" Again they just nod in agreement and Riddle goes on. "I hope you know that I'm very disappointed on you. Extremely. One more fault like this and it's over for both, do you understand?"

"Yes, Sir." They say in unison.

"Now, leave."

Harry purses his lips and turns but-

"Not you, D'Angelo. We have a lot to talk about."

He feels cold inside but nods and waits in silence for Hermione and Pettigrew to leave. She gives him a pointed look when she turns and Harry would bet everything he has that there's some gratitude in her eyes.

The door closes and he's alone with Riddle.

In a split and insane second Harry considers killing him right there.

He blinks it away.

"Sit." The Minister says and he moves to a couch. "Water?" Harry nods and Riddle conjures up two glasses. "So," He sits in front of Harry on an armchair. "I'm curious about your family." Harry takes a sip to avoid opening his mouth. He just hopes he doesn't start to sweat like crazy. "I mean, the D'Angelos are kinda of famous. A traditional Pureblood family in Italy. It's rare." Riddle sips. "Are you Bianca's son?"

"Yes." He says. In reality it was Bianca's father - Matteo D'Angelo - who took Harry in. And he knows for a fact that Bianca initially refused to take care of him. She was afraid of any kind of retaliation in case someone found out he was a Potter. But after a few months of tranquility, she - who had a certain difficulty in having kids - took Harry into her household and raised him like her own. Since they lived a bit isolated from the community, no one questioned her when she suddenly appeared with a child.

"And you have a good relationship with your grandfather, Matteo, is that right?"

"Yes, Sir." Harry has no idea what Riddle wants to hear. He's sure not willing to talk about his family, but if he keeps answering like this the man might suspect he has something to hide. "I have a strong relationship with my mother's side of the family…"

"I heard your father wasn't very present." Riddle doesn't ask. He states.

"He wasn't, Sir. But we found a way of understanding each other." Bianca's husband made an Unbreakable Vow when she took Harry in. He promised never to reveal his true identity. And it's a fact that they never developed a meaningful relationship. Harry never saw him as a father…

"That's why you have your grandfather's surname?"

Harry wants to tell Riddle to piss off. "My father made no objections to my grandfather's request on this matter, Sir. Being his only grandson he wanted me to carry out his name."

The Minister nods and takes a sip of his water, his eyes heavy on Harry. He's testing me. Harry feels like he needs to give the right answers. To the wrong questions.

"Interesting." Riddle says. Harry sips on his water now, his throat dry. "Your lineage is impressive. However," Harry doesn't like his tone nor the way he leans a bit forward, "I must bring up an important topic. Your grandfather has a… worrisome past." Harry actually frowns. And he's glad his attitude is genuine because Riddle notices his surprise. "You may not know about this, D'Angelo, but your grandfather used to be very vocal about his support of Muggles and Muggleborns. Now," Riddle raises a finger, "I know he's Italian and in Italy things work differently from here, but since you're here D'Angelo, I hope you go by our laws. You don't have any kind of inclination towards Muggles and their 'rights', do you?"

"Of course not, Sir-"

"Since you have a strong relationship with your grandfather, you might share his beliefs, who knows? It's natural to jump to this conclusion, isn't it, my boy?" Harry can feel that Riddle's tone is changing to a more menacing one. "It would be truly a shame if that was the case… and living here you would be trialled in accordance with your crimes."

"Sir… I assure you, I'm not a Muggle sympathizer." He holds Riddle's gaze for a long time, willing himself to hold his ground even if his heart is beating wildly.

Finally, after what seemed five minutes, Tom Riddle opens a discreet smile and leans back on his chair. "Good. I think you'll find yourself at home here, then." Another sip and a content sigh. "Now, I gather you also know that in England marriages are arranged." Harry nods. "Usually the families make this deal between themselves, but you've interested me, D'Angelo, so, it's my duty to find you a perfect match."

Harry can't help tilting his head and asking, "What's a perfect match, Sir?"

"Well, since your lineage is very traditional, I must find an equally traditional wife for you." Riddle winks, having fun. Harry wants to vomit. "I always host a Ball at my house in mid November. You're invited. You'll have a chance of knowing the most important Pureblood families of England. It'll be a good opportunity to meet a probable match."

"Sir, I feel honored." His stomach aches from a burning sensation of pure hate.

Tom Riddle gets up and Harry understands the cue. Standing too he takes the hand Riddle extends to him. In his mind Harry is breaking the Minister's arm, twisting it behind his back and punching his face. He blinks. Harry opens a smile to the man in front of him. Riddle takes his hand back and motions for Harry to leave.

He does with a sourness in his mouth and a heaviness in his stomach.

November 5th, 2005

Ministry of Magic

"Thank Merlin it's Friday." Ronald Weasley says to Harry and sits by his side. Harry looks up from the article he's reading and narrows his eyes as he watches Ron eating an apple with ferocity. "So, what are you up to today?"

Harry frowns. "Nothing?" He's not sure he understands what the red haired is asking.

"Oh, come on, mate. Almost every Friday we go out. There's this-" Ron stops talking as he chews, "amazing magical pub we often go. Maybe you could join us."

He wonders who this 'us' might be. Since yesterday at Riddle's office he hadn't seen Hermione…

Harry can't deny he needs to vent a little. These past few days have been intense and maybe going out for a few drinks might be able to make him forget his encounter with the Minister yesterday. The whole scene keeps repeating itself inside his mind.

"I would love to, man." Harry says.

Ron smiles and pats his shoulder, giving him the address. "Meet us there!"

Harry shakes his head and resumes his reading.

Maybe he can have some fun.

The place is wilder than Harry would have imagined. But he's not complaining, the music is fairly good, the drinks just on point and with a simple muffling spell he's able to sit with his fellow Aurors and talk. He wets his lips and sips on his fake Firewhisky. He thought a lot about drinking or not this night. And Harry recognized it would be an amazing opportunity to talk with drunken Aurors while sober.

He laughs out loud at something Ron's wife says. He finds Luna Weasley (née Lovegood) genuinely interesting and a good person. And he also wants to exaggerate his reactions to show how 'drunk' he is. It's been probably two hours since he got there and Ron and Luna, along with Ginny, are excitedly telling him stories and sharing informations about the Ministry.

There was no sign of Hermione so far. Not that I care.

Suddenly Ginny and Luna scream and get up from the circular booth. Harry and Ron raise their eyebrows and watch while they walk to the dance floor singing at the top of their lungs. Ron laughs and drinks some more. Harry's eyes focus on the entrance…

"So, mate, how was the talk with the Minister yesterday?"

"Oh," He wonders if Ron has some kind of ulterior motive for asking this. "It was okay."

Ron makes a face. "Okay? Just that?" Harry shrugs. "Well, you're tough, man. Most Aurors come out of that office crying. I mean, except for Hermione. Although she cries sometimes alone in her office." Ron widens his eyes as if he said something he shouldn't. "Please don't mention this."

Harry presses a finger to his lips to indicate that he won't.

"You know her well, Ron?"

"Who? Hermione?" He takes another gulp of his Firewhisky. Harry nods. "I'm her best friend, mate. We've known each other since we were little and when we got into Hogwarts our friendship grew stronger." Ron leans forward, a mischievous smile on his face. "We used to date, you know?" Harry is taken by surprise. He would never have guessed. "We were together for a whole year, but it didn't work out, we used to fight and disagree on almost everything, it was a bit exhausting. We're better off being best friends." Ron smiles and Harry sees a sincere emotion there.

"Were you sorted into the same house at Hogwarts?" He knows asking this doesn't help on his plan, but he's curious.

"Yes. My whole family is made of Gryffindors. Me and Ginny included." He shakes his head and makes a face. "But when Hermione was not sorted into Slytherin…" Ron whistles. "That was one hell of a surprise… I mean, Riddle is a direct descendant of Salazar."

Harry frowns. He already knew of Tom's ancestry, but he never imagined his daughter would be sorted into… Gryffindor. The knowledge shines a bright new light on Hermione. Again. Maybe I should have studied her too. He lost sleep over searching informations about Tom he forgot about the rest of the family. "Really?" Now he's extremely interested.

"Yeah." Ron looks into his glass. "She was devastated at first. And I'm sure her parents weren't easy on her… but they accepted. Eventually."

Harry nods and sips on his fake drink. He wants to keep talking about Hermione. Clearing his throat and ignoring his thoughts, he says, "The Minister invited me to the Ball at his house-"

"Oh! That's awesome, Harry!" Ron says excitedly. Harry smiles and tries mimicking his euphoria. Ron begins to talk about how this Ball is always filled with the most important families around England, but Harry is not listening anymore.

Hermione just stepped inside the place. With Pettigrew.

They walk with their hands clasped together and people seem to part to give them a clear path. Harry is not capable of looking away. He's aware Ron is still talking and he should probably be paying attention. But he's out of breathe. His heart pounding. Hermione is wearing casual clothes - black boots, dark jeans, a white top and a leather jacket - but it's her presence, her confidence, that draws the male attention. She walks with certainty, her discreet smile taunting others as if she knows something she shouldn't.

He averts his eyes when she looks directly at him. Harry feels his neck hot and moves his attention back to Ron. "…I mean, you'll have to dance, it's a tradition-"

"What? Dance?"

Ron frowns. "Yeah, of course. The traditional dance, you know?" Harry shakes his head in denial. "You don't? How come? Don't you dance in Italy?"

Harry snorts a chuckle. "We do, but I really don't like it, so, I always avoided the lessons."

Ron laughs and drinks some more. Luna is coming back to their booth and to Harry's despair, Hermione and Pettigrew are just behind her. Ron waves his hand at them, excited.

"You guys, you won't believe this!" He shouts in excitement. "Harry doesn't know how to dance the traditional!" Luna widens her eyes at him and shakes her head in disbelief. But he's barely hearing, his eyes are following Hermione's action as she sits down and puts a fair distance between them. Pettigrew sits by her side, his arm going around her shoulders and bringing her closer to him, his mouth finding her ear and murmuring something that makes her chuckle.

"But why would Harry have to dance the traditional?" Luna is asking and he answers.

"The Minister invited me to his Ball."

And that makes Hermione and Pettigrew turn their heads to him. "Really?" She asks with a strange tone.

Harry shrugs, his eyes on the dance floor where Ginny is kissing her husband. When Malfoy got here? He avoids Hermione, afraid he might get lost in her intense gaze. "Yeah. He wants me to meet eligible brides." Since he's not looking directly at her face, he can only see Hermione moving on her seat and crossing one leg over the other.

"Oh! That's right, mate!" Ron says. "Did you have someone in Italy? Because if you did she can come, I'm sure you can marry here-"

"I don't think her blood is pure enough for your standards." He says sharply and it's like a bomb drops at their booth. They all go very still.

Pettigrew is the first to have a reaction. "So, in love with a Mudblood?" Harry sets his jaw and looks at Pettigrew. "Predictable, isn't it?" He opens a nasty smile. "It's a pity that the Minister thinks you worthy of a Pureblood, I mean, you shouldn't even be here, D'Angelo."

"Asmo-" Hermione begins.

"She's not a Mudblood." Harry cuts her, his words directed at Pettigrew. "And if she were, that wouldn't be of your concern, Pettigrew. You like it or not I'm here now and I'll obey your laws. I'll marry whoever the Minister considers fitting."

There's a heavy silence then. The way Pettigrew behaves infuriates Harry, compromising his calm and rational thinking. Not to mention that the sight of him holding Hermione makes Harry's stomach churn.

Pettigrew shrugs and snorts. Then, he turns to Hermione and says, "Do you want something to drink?" She nods. "The usual?" She nods again and they share a kiss before he goes to the bar. Harry purses his lips, averting his eyes again just to meet Luna's. She's squinting at him, her head slightly tilted.

"Ron," She says, "Let's dance." And before he can even answer she's dragging her husband to the dance floor.

Harry sips on his drink, uncomfortable to be left alone with Hermione. She clears her throat. "I'm sure my father will find you someone excellent." Her voice is off and he gathers his courage to look at her. "I'm sorry you left someone in Italy."

"Not really. We were over before I got the transference, but I guess I still think about her. I mean… we're not forced to marry in Italy and I figured I would ask her when the time came…" He trails, embarrassed and not understanding why he's sharing this with Hermione. "But what about you? I don't see a wedding ring on your finger." He says a bit too harshly.

She raises an eyebrow. "Well," Hermione looks down. "it's none of your business."

Harry purses his lips and drinks. For the first time he wishes it were real Firewhisky. "What? Haven't Pettigrew's family accepted you?"

"Piss off, D'Angelo."

"As you wish." He raises from his seat and heads to the dance floor. Harry can feel Hermione's eyes on him even when he leans on the counter of the bar and orders a real glass of Firewhisky.

He drinks it with one swing and closes his eyes at the satisfying burn.

"Wow. Tough night?"

He opens his eyes. There's a brunette with a dashing smile by his side. "Maybe." He says turning sideways to look at her properly. Harry orders another two glasses and she raises an eyebrow when he offers her one.

They clink their glasses and, never breaking eye contact, swallow down the whole content in one go.

Then they laugh at each other. "Sally Black." She introduces herself and his brain stops for a brief moment. Sirius and Eleonora's daughter.

"Harry D'Angelo."

They hold hands and in an impulse he turns hers and brings it to his lips, gently kissing. He noticed there's no wedding ring on her finger too, so, he's allowed to do this. Her smile widens.

"A gentleman with an Italian name."

Harry opens a seductive smile and takes one step closer to her. Your father betrayed my parents. Do you know that? Do you have any idea?

"È vero." He says.

She takes one step to him also, their heads close. They're still holding hands and Harry can't help noticing how very dark her eyes are.

"That's sexy." She openly says and he chuckles softly. She reminds him of his Italian friends. They're open minded and outspoken. And since he arrived in England, everyone's been so polite and uptight he can't help feeling some sort of affection towards her. Not to mention how utterly important her surname is to my plan.

"You have a beautiful smile." He says. "Bella."

"Are you calling me beautiful?" Her eyes roam his face.

Harry exhales heavily. "I am." He says in a low voice, his own eyes falling to her mouth.

They share an intense moment and a thought crosses his mind. Is she an eligible bride? Imagine being part of the Black family and actually destroying them from inside? His smile widens and Sally must think it's because of her… in a way.

"Sally!"

He takes a step back, their moment over because of… Hermione. Harry narrows his eyes at his boss. She's half hugging Sally and smiling brightly.

"Hermione." Sally says with a cold voice, clearly not so happy to see Tom Riddle's daughter. "It's been a long time. How have you been?"

"Good. Excellent." Even Harry can hear the falseness in her tone.

"Oh, this is Harry-"

"We know each other." Hermione cuts Sally.

"Unfortunately." Harry murmurs and Sally suppresses a laugh. Hermione gives him an angry look and presses her lips together. Then she turns to Sally.

"Actually Sally, can we catch up later? I really need to talk to D'Angelo."

And to his utter surprise she grabs his arm and steers him away from Sally and from the bar. When he thinks she's going to stop, Hermione keeps going and goes through a black velvet curtain at one extremity of the place. They emerge in a silent and cool storage. She finally releases him and he crosses his arms.

"Okay, what was that?" He asks.

"Look," She bites her lower lip. "We can't keep arguing, okay? I don't want that."

He tilts his head. "You don't?"

"Of course not!" She seems honest. "You saved my life." She states. "You defended me yesterday." Hermione gulps and Harry looks down.

"I was being honest." He says in a low voice.

"Regardless, Harry." His name again. Harry feels the intense beat of the music under his feet. The rhythm practically matching his own heartbeats. "I know a fair number of other Aurors who would have taken the opportunity to throw me under the Knight Bus."

He snorts a chuckle and she opens a smile. He nods. "Okay, but you were the one who told me to piss off." He points out.

"I know. I'm sorry. It's just… the topic is a bit touchy for me, okay?" He understands she doesn't want to talk about it and doesn't press the matter.

"Fine, Miss Riddle. Truce?" He extends his hand.

She takes it. "Call me Hermione."

His thumb goes over her hand in a caress and they both hold their breathes. They dare looking into each other's eyes. Harry feels hot. And he sees the blushing up her neck. She feels the same. He blinks and releases her hand, taking a step back.

"Okay, Hermione."

"Okay." She repeats.

They don't move. The moment stretches. Stop looking at her. Stop.

He clears his throat. "Do you know if Sally Black is betrothed to someone?"

She barely moves. "One meeting and you want to marry her?" Her voice is cold.

"I'm just considering options. She seems nice. And she's surely beautiful."

"As far as I know she's not betrothed."

Harry narrows his eyes. "Is this Ball any fun?" He changes the subject.

"Sometimes." She tilts her head. "Is it true you don't know how to dance the traditional?" Her whole expression changes, now she looks amused.

"Guilty." He raises a hand. "But I've seen it many times, maybe I can try if needed."

"Oh, my father will make you dance, I'm sure." She looks over his shoulder. "Maybe…" Hermione trails.

"Maybe what?"

"If you're up to it I could give you lessons." She says nonchalantly. His stomach flips inside him. Dancing lessons alone with her? Not the best idea.

"I would like that." His mouth betrays him and the words come out before he's even aware of what he's saying. She smiles brightly.

"Okay. I think we can begin… on Monday? I mean, the Ball is near and the dance is not that simple-"

"It's perfect. Thank you, Hermione."

The blush is there. But also a smile so wide he's sure he hadn't seen it yet. His heart skips a beat and Harry wets his lips. "Let's get back to the…" He points to the curtain and she nods.

They emerge from the storage and go separate ways. He sees her going directly to Pettigrew and he can't help a wave of anger. He searches for Sally and soon spots her. She's looking at him and raising a glass as a clear invitation for them to resume their conversation. He goes gladly.

He arrives at his flat around 4am. He had a blast with Sally, but after Hermione interrupted their moment, they only talked on friendly terms, the flirtation gone. If I'm obliged to marry someone she'll be the best option. His mind goes to Hermione in a flash and he grunts. Of course he can't even entertain the idea of marrying her. Hermione is off limits.

"Because I plan to kill her." He voices it and feels a stab on his chest. Drunkly he looks at the mural on the wall. Moving his wand he circles a name. "Fucking shit. Cazzo."

Harry crumbles on the couch and closes his eyes. He has no idea how to deal with these troubling feelings. The last thing he thinks of is how beautiful she looked at the pub.

And the name circled on the wall is also hers.

Hermione Riddle.

Note: I wanna thank you all for your reviews and say that I get what you're talking about, but I won't say much about it because... hehehe

Next chapter they begin their investigation and also... dance lessons?