Hangover.

Harry woke up lying tangled in his sheets.

The vague memory of dancing with hotlips came to him, and then he remembered the end, the bit where Daphne Greengrass left.

In hindsight, saying he wished he'd married her against her will, had probably been a bad idea.

Harry staggered down to the kitchen, head pounding less, as the hangover potion worked.

He found Remus sitting in a dressing gown looking tired.

"Harry, how was your night?" Remus asked.

"Met the love of my life" said Harry glumly.

Remus looked up "Aren't you seeing a French girl?"

"Nope" said Harry "English. Gorgeous. Used to hex me."

Remus sighed "like your mother" he said softly, shaking his head.

"Mum hexed?" asked Harry.

"In retaliation" said Remus "Never mind. Let's just say your mum changed her mind about your dad in seventh year, then they went to Hogsmeade and your dad came back looking like he'd been hit in the head by a bludger."

"Ow, concussion hex?" asked Harry.

"Snogging, apparently" said Remus tartly.

Harry put a bacon buttie together, and was biting into it when he saw a fresh hickey on Remus's neck.

"Mister Lupin" said Harry, putting his sandwich down "You've got a hickey."

Remus' hand leapt to his neck "Dammit I told her to be careful biting me" he said.

"Uhuh. So you brought someone home?"

"Er, well yes, and I um… need to explain" said Remus. "Before you get any ideas."

Harry lifted his eyebrows.

"It's your aunt" said Remus.

"My Aunt?" asked Harry. That was unexpected.

"Narcissa" said Remus.

"Who?" asked Harry, not tracking one hundred percent.

Remus looked shifty. "Mrs Malfoy. She um… "

"What?"

"I'm um… her bit on the side." admitted Remus. "Her husband's been missing a long time."

"In my house?" asked Harry "She's my aunt – a Black, and you're shagging her in my house.?"

Remus looked at the floor.

"Brilliant" said Harry, feeling quite amused, and cracking a grin "She's welcome. She doesn't need to hide in your room. Unless she's naked?"

Remus stared that the floor.

"You tore her clothes off?" asked Harry slowly.

"It's a thing." said Remus.

"Is she still here?" asked Harry.

Remus looked guilty.

"For gods sake, get her to leave clothes here if you two are going to get all 'pureblood witch and randy werewolf'" said Harry.

"Harry I'm so sorry" mumbled Remus.

"I'm pleased. You need a witch, and whatever makes you two happy" said Harry. "She's loaded, well done."

"I'm not using Narcissa for her money" said Remus.

"Cool. That's all I want to hear about old people having sex." said Harry. "Seriously clothes."

"Kreacher found her some old things of Sirius's mothers'" said Remus.

"God. That's gross. Old granny pants. I need to talk Daphne into leaving some clothes." said Harry.

"You're actually in bed with a witch who repeatedly hexed your testicles?" asked Remus,

"Not yet" said Harry, glossing over the running off bit. "But we will." said Harry lightly. He'd done a Tarot reading. Lovers. Dead certainty.

Remus stared at Harry. "No" said Remus. He stared rather intently, thought Harry.

"Well I'm not. But we, um… click" said Harry.

"Click?" asked Remus.

"And she's a great dancer. The only witch I danced with last night that was nearly as good was the mum in the blue dress and pearls." said Harry.

Remus nodded. "Saw her." he said. "Handsome woman. Daphne Greengrass's mother." Harry's stomach lurched downwards.

"You didn't tell me her mum was hot!" complained Harry.

"It didn't seem important to the negotiations for a housekeeper. It was back when we were at school." said Remus, then he added "God you're like Lily and James at the same time." Harry suspected, by the tone of his voice, that was not a compliment.

Harry didn't bother asking Remus for advice on how to solve his romantic dilemma, as Remus was old, and shagging Harry's aunt. He went to his room and paced back and forth, trying to think of a solution.

What he needed, thought Harry was some sort of official pureblood-ish letter thingy that Daphne would read, and then it would all be all right.

Harry thought about that, and realised the ideal person to ask was Neville, who unfortunately had no soul left and was less useful company than Crabbe. Zabini was out too, as he was negotiating with Nott to stop hiding like a crybaby.

Harry thought about it till lunch, had a sandwich and decided to go see Cyrus at Viridian. Lawyers gave confidential advice, he was old enough to have a family, didn't seem insane, and for a pile of galleons would probably write the letter for Harry anyway.

Harry flooed to the Leaky Cauldron, fell over and slowly stood. Some people were staring at him.

"I um… fall over flooing a lot" said Harry. They turned back to their drinks.

Harry went to Gringotts, buoyed by his success at explaining that he fell over a lot.

He got a big bag of galleons. Cyrus was expensive. But at least it was a Monday. So probably cheaper rates.

Harry opened the downstairs door to Viridian and powered up the stairs two at a time, going in the open door and seeing a receptionist, a witch in her twenties wearing a pointy hat with a point so bent the tip pointed down.

"Welcome to Viridian, Britain's finest Law firm" said 'Sachriassa'; she had a badge.

"I'm Harry Potter. I want an appointment with Cyrus." said Harry.

Sachriassa smiled very woodenly "I'll just check his availability?" she said.

And she flicked some beads on an abacus on her desk. After a moment, one of the beads moved on its own.

"If you'll take a seat, he can see you as soon as his current client is finished" said Sachriassa. She did that same weird, wooden smile again.

Harry sat on one of the waiting room chairs, and ran over the list of things he wanted the letter to do. Mostly he wanted Daphne Greengrass to turn around, walk over, loop her arms around his neck and snog his brains out. Harry drifted off a bit.

"Mister Potter" said Cyrus from the door to his office. Harry jolted out of his hormonal haze and stood up. Cyrus looked a little tired. If Harry had been uncharitable, that Cyrus had a hangover, or was otherwise tired out.

"Cyrus" said Harry, shaking the offered hand. He walked in and sat down, and Cyrus closed the door and sat down at his desk.

"What can I do for you today?" asked Cyrus.

"It's complicated. I wasn't brought up in um, pureblood society." said Harry. Cyrus nodded.

"And last night I um, met this girl and danced with her on and off all night"

"At the St Mungos fundraiser?" asked Cyrus like he already knew the answer.

"Yeah that" said Harry "So I really like her, and I did get to kiss her – she's a fantastic kisser."

Cyrus's face somehow froze.

"And really beautiful" continued Harry "So um… the problem is that we took off out masks after the last dance."

"SO you danced the last slow dance with this ingénue?" said Cyrus.

"I was thinking of her as Hotlips" said Harry "Well that's not her name. You see, we were really getting on well, and she said we'll take our masks off... and so we did… "

"And?" asked Cyrus coldly.

"Well, we were standing in the middle of the ballroom –" said Harry. For some inexplicable reason Cyrus relaxed at that.

Harry continued "And it was Daphne Greengrass. Now as you know, I've had a difficult time with Daphne Greengrass."

Cyrus nodded understandingly.

"And I said something stupid last night" said Harry. Cyrus's blue eyes looked suddenly quite cold.

"I said um… I wished I'd married her." said Harry,

Harry had been watching Cyrus as he talked and now Cyrus looked confused. He'd gone from formal to frozen to coldly dismissive to confused. Harry had no idea what Cyrus's problem was.

"And you're embarrassed?" asked Cyrus.

"Well that would have meant marrying her against her will and oh my god I don't want to do anything against her will. I want her will." blurted Harry.

"You want what?" asked Cyrus.

"I want to kiss her again" said Harry "Well to be honest- you're my lawyer this is confidential right?"

"Yes…" said Cyrus in a low drawn out tone.

"I want to do more than kiss her. Bloody hell. The only other witch there half as sexy was her mum in a blue robe and pearls. She was … well if I was old. I'd have hit on her hard."

"Blue robes and pearls?" asked Cyrus, lifting one eyebrow.

"Dances fantastically, she gave me flirting advice. Told me to ask Hotlips about her hobbies. Damn I forgot to ask Daphne about her hobbies; I was so busy holding her back. Oh she's got a gorgeous back,"

"The Mrs or Miss Greengrass?" asked Cyrus.

"I didn't check Her mum's back , but if you're on the market… she's got two daughters and is into hunting. She seemed… well she said she was married but was fairly flirty, so I bet she's still a good handful."

"Quite" said Cyrus, who was looking oddly amused.

"Am I babbling?" asked Harry, realizing he'd been talking rather a bit...

"No more than most young men talking about their love lives" said Cyrus.

"Oh. Have you heard a lot then?" asked Harry.

"Mostly suitors of my daughters" said Cyrus drily.

"Wow." said Harry wincing "That must be hard. How do you deicide if they're no-goods?"

"These days" said Cyrus, sounding tired and almost like Snape, "I'm more concerned that they have a young man who loves them for who they are."

Harry was struck by the wisdom of that. "Wow. Um… Can I quote you on that… it's … honestly I've had no advice no how to do being a parent."

"You are rather young for that" said Cyrus firmly.

"Well yeah. I can't say I would fancy dealing with Daphne Greengrass pregnant. She was bad enough regularly pissed off." said Harry, and Cyrus nodded. "A prudent course" said Cyrus.

"Her mum though… she was worried about her daughters. They had gone to the ball in disguises their mum didn't know about so she wasn't sure who they were! Maybe you could meet her?"

"Hmm" said Cyrus and he smirked stroked his goatee in a rather smug way "I believe I have."

"Did you, cor, did you get her floo address?" asked Harry.

"Yes Mr Potter, not only did I attend, but I have the floo address of the witch in the blue robes and pearls."

"No wonder you look tired" quipped Harry.

Cyrus smiled toothily. As he looked satanic normally, that looked like a devilishly pleased Satan. Harry felt some masculine respect for Cyrus, who must be a smooth operator indeed.

"So I will get your message to Daphne Greengrass about wanting to, hmm, see her for lunch at the three broomsticks?" asked Cyrus.

"Well not Madam Puddifoots" said Harry. "The thing, the reason I'm here – "

"Yes"? Said Cyrus darkly.

"Is that the message needs to be the right one. The pureblood culture thing. She ran off, I need her to um?"

"See the error of her ways?" asked Cyrus, with what might be sarcasm.

Harry rolled his eyes "I think what I need is... whatever that would um… "

"That's a little unclear" said Cyrus definitely sarcastically.

"It's just…" Harry waved his arms around in frustration "When I was dancing last night with Daphne, before it went to shit… I felt utterly, completely happy. I haven't felt like that ever. The message is…. That. So you know what I mean?"

"Well" said Cyrus "I did get to dance four times with the witch in the blue dress and pearls. So I believe I understand, perhaps" Cyrus looked smug again.

Harry snapped "Look, if we'd kept the masks on I'd have gone home with Daphne and she'd be going home in the morning with a big grin on her face – "

Harry paused. "Well unless when we took the masks off afterwards, she ran off too. " Harry sighed, "I dunno."

He looked up at Cyrus who was staring at Harry like he didn't understand how Harry talked.

"Oh come on, you were young once!" said Harry "I've had loads of girlfriends in France at Beauxbatons. You chat a girl up, got out a few times.. sometimes she drags you off for a shag, sometimes she just looks at you, and you take her somewhere comfy and... well you know. Broom closets at Hogwarts, that was the deal apparently wasn't it."

"You were doing that well with Daphne Greengrass before the masks came off" asked Cyrus.

"She said '"Don't grab my arse in public' said Harry "We were dancing together. Like dry humping together."

For some reason that made Cyrus blink "Oh" said Cyrus. "Well. That will be interesting won't it."

"What do I do now"? Asked Harry.

"Well I believe this my services in this instance might be pro boner publico" said Cyrus.

"What? Public what?" said Harry, who wasn't that great at Latin. A shame really.

Cyrus took a newspaper from his desk and threw it to Harry, it was opened to the middle and refolded. At the top of the page was the caption 'St Mungos Ball lovers' and there was a photo of Harry and… Daphne Greengrass dancing together, and Daphne was spinning out and back, into Harry's arms. She was, Harry thought, as pretty as he remembered, and smiling, and the photo hinted what a nice arse she had. He should pick up a copy – when her dress flared out in the spin her calves… and they were deliciously taunt calves were showed off. Harry had to swallow.

"Oh. We made the paper" said Harry, and then realised, 'oh shit that's why the receptionist had looked at me funny.' He read the caption on the photo. 'Hot new couple of the night, both incognito but setting fire to the dance-floor.'

Harry felt a sort of… satisfaction that other people thought he'd done a decent job- Daphne was the one doing the fancy bits. And she looked – Harry tried not to stare at her dress, and looked up.

"You hadn't seen it?" asked Cyrus. "Well. You'll need to keep that."

"I couldn't" said Harry, who foresaw himself in the loo with it if he kept it.

"Do you think you can… get my message across? Is there a way?" asked Harry.

"Oh, I have resources" said Cyrus.

"I would feel better paying" said Harry.

"Then… normal rates… fifty galleons" said Cyrus.

Harry poured galleons onto the table, counted carefully and left, nodding at Cyrus.

Again, he really should have taken a business card from reception.