Chapter 15

"You sent Lord Fucking Voldemort to Iran?" Harry hissed, trying his best to not raise his voice and alert everyone in the restaurant to their conversation. It didn't work. Thankfully there were only a handful of people around them.

"Yell it a bit louder in case the kitchen didn't hear you," Priya said, swirling her wine in her glass before taking a sip of it. She was intentionally not looking at him, choosing instead to lazily page through the wine list, as if whatever he had to offer to the conversation was far less interesting than the menu she'd already discarded once.

It was a trick she'd used on him before. One that she knew annoyed him. If she thought he was being otherwise impertinent she'd respond, tersely, but she wouldn't look at him. It often served to calm him down. Now, though, he didn't know what to make of it. Perhaps he was merely too out of practice from their time apart.

"You have no idea how dangerous she is. You have no idea what she's capable of. You have no idea what you're responsible for," he hissed some more. Priya's brows shooting up at his last words stopped him in his tracks. Her eyes hardened and she placed her wine glass down onto the table, just as their server returned with the duck dumplings.

Priya thanked her without averting her gaze from Harry. She took the napkin from her plate and unfolded it, placing it in her lap, still without taking her eyes off of him. Her glare was enough to prevent Harry from helping himself to the first dumpling.

"Let's get one thing straight from the get go, Harry James Potter. I am responsible for none of this. She was entirely your idea and will remain entirely your responsibility for the duration. Anything that results from her actions rests solely on your shoulders," Priya said, her tone calm.

She paused for a moment then picked up her fork and served herself half of the dumplings. Harry waited a moment, figuring it best to keep his mouth shut until her utensils were otherwise occupied. When she took her first bite, he served himself the rest.

He cut one of them in half, dunked it in the dipping sauce, and ate it. It wasn't until he swallowed it that he bothered continuing the conversation.

"I kept her where I could keep an eye on her. I didn't send her away," Harry said. He wasn't sure it worked as an excuse. But at least it was backed by the truth. Granted, he wasn't sure if Emily Price would take kindly to being ordered to do anything by him.

He couldn't admit it in the moment when he was still so confused by everything, but he was rather impressed she'd managed it. He'd known her to be a fighter. Every day in Japan during their research showed that. She would never accept the easy solution or even the difficult defeat. She would fight on and get to the right answer.

He'd seen it with her studies and her work as well. It was just who she was. Priya Patel did not believe in half-measures. Which, he thought, might be part of the reason he loved her, and most of the reason why they were dining in Hogsmeade that evening.

"You did nothing with her," Priya said. "Seemed like a waste of a resource."

"I was letting her recover," Harry said.

"You were letting her turn herself into an alcoholic because it was the only way she could think to cope," Priya accused. She pointed her fork at the dipping sauce and Harry slid it across the table toward her. She dunked a dumpling into it and ate the entire thing in one bite.

"I offered to get her any help she needed," Harry said. If he was being honest he wasn't entirely sure he had offered that. But it felt like something he would have offered had he thought of it. So that had to count for something.

"Because a woman stuck in the fifties is going to jump at the thought of therapy. And not send any therapist screaming for the doors once they realized who she was," Priya scoffed at him. He'd finished with his share of the dumplings by that point, finding himself hungrier than he'd thought. It gave him nothing better to do than drink the wine, though. He refilled their glasses.

"There's Muggle ones," he countered.

"That would check her into a psych ward if she told them anything resembling the truth," Priya laughed.

"Well, can't blame them for that," Harry said.

"She should be in one anyway. But she felt stable enough when I talked to her. So I sent her to Iran," Priya said. Before Harry could reply their food arrived. They exchanged the briefest of pleasantries with the waitress before starting in on their entrees.

They lapsed into relative silence, exchanging only the briefest of words about their meals as they started to eat. Harry took a moment to think about the situation. He believed that she at least thought Emily went to Iran. But he wasn't sure about much else of it.

Something felt completely foreign with the thought of her following Priya's orders. Or even Priya giving that order. Yet he could not find Emily at the castle. And suddenly Priya was there. Something about the entire situation made very little sense to him. He struggled to put a finger on exactly what it was.

"I'm missing something," he admitted aloud. She nodded.

"Many things," she said. "Soon to be some of your food."

"You'll lose some of yours if that's the case," he teased, a pang shooting through his chest as their little game came back far too quickly.

"We'll see," she smirked. But after only a minimal amount of banter pieces of their entrees wound up on the other's plate.

"So tell me what's going on," Harry said.

"Fumiko and Alex asked me to get involved. We've had some discussions over the course of a month or so and we agreed that this is the best way forward," Priya said. She looked away from him again.

This time, though, Harry could sense her nerves. She wasn't trying to ignore him. It was worse than that. This time he could sense the fear in her. And it all had something to do with him.

"The best way forward?" Harry asked.

"You're the Headmaster of Hogwarts," Priya said.

"I'm aware," Harry countered.

"That's a public position. And on top of that general scrutiny, most high level Ministry officials don't like you very much. And they hate the fact that one of your closest confidants is a semi-repentant Death Eater," Priya continued.

"I'm aware of that as well," Harry said.

"I'm neither of those things. While I have a well respected grandmother and some famous research to my name, I'm more or less a low level Healer. I'm not under public scrutiny. Hell, my bosses were eager to get rid of me," Priya said.

"Why?" Harry asked, his eyes narrowing as they focused on her, she actually looked startled by the question as she finally brought his gaze back to hers.

"What?"

"Why would they want to get rid of you? You're brilliant, dedicated, and a great worker," Harry said. "They'd have to be idiots to not see that."

"Ah," she said, looking away again, this time in obvious embarrassment. "Well, the top of the hospital isn't so much different than the top of the Ministry."

"And you're associated with me," Harry finished her thought. She shook her head to refute him.

"It's not that," she said quickly, as if trying to absolve him of any blame. "It's that I finished up my education in Japan, rather than in their program. So some of them think my education is inferior to what it should be. And quite a few of them are jealous of our research. It's competitive and I'm a threat. I think quite a few of them want to see me fail."

"Ah," Harry said, resisting the urge to voice exactly what he thought of that. "And Hogwats is a way to pay your dues and show everyone you're a team player and not above any of them."

"Something like that," she said.

"Clever."

"We thought so."

"But what did Fumiko and Avery have to do with that decision? And why keep me in the dark about it?" Harry asked. He finished his glass of wine and went to refill it only to find the bottle empty. He flagged down their waitress and ordered another.

"Honestly? The less you know the better," Priya said. Harry looked up from his food, raised his brows at her, and took a sip of his wine.

"I'm going to have to disagree with that," Harry said.

"Well, you are entitled to your incorrect opinion," Priya said, dismissing his claim.

"What the hell is going on?" Harry asked. He frowned at his own tone, noticing immediately that he wasn't doing nearly as good of a job at hiding his anger as he expected.

"We had some discussions, discussions that interrupted my vacation trip by the way, about what to do given that you are, well, you, and we came up with a solution," Priya said.

"You are just stringing me along to annoy me," Harry countered. The waitress returned with their next bottle of wine and some generic questions about how they were enjoying their meal. They exchanged pointless platitudes and she left.

"You love when I string you along," Priya teased, looking at him with her best bedroom eyes.

"Only when there's a chance of taking off your clothing," Harry countered.

"Who's to say there isn't?" Priya let her smile shift into a much more alluring smirk. One that had an almost immediate effect on a certain part of his anatomy. He ignored it and went back to his meal.

"Behave," he scoffed.

"Make me," she teased.

"Fine," Harry retorted. He slowly lifted his gaze and raised his brows. He watched as she hopped slightly in her chair, the telltale signs of uncertainty and embarrassment spreading across her face.

"Did you," she paused to bite her bottom lip in a way that also had an effect on a certain part of his anatomy, staring at him as she spoke, "Did you just magically spank me?"

"You asked for it," he shrugged. This time he turned her own trick against her. He shifted his gaze away from her, focusing instead on his fresh glass of wine. He swirled it before taking a sip of it.

"Do it again," she ordered. He raised his brows at her but didn't respond. Instead he looked back toward his food, cut off a small piece of it and ate it. He could feel her eyes on him as he chewed. Eventually she caved, her voice sounding almost desperate, "Please."

He brought his gaze back up to look at her, questioning her with only his eyes. Her own locked onto his. She was still chewing on her bottom lip. Harry paused for a few moments and held her gaze.

Then she dropped her fork as she bounced slightly in her seat once more. She fumbled after it, the soft clang of the silverware against the ceramic plate drawing a couple of looks from people nearby as her cheeks darkened. She looked away from him and he went back to eating.

"Again?" she whispered, as if afraid the entire restaurant could hear her. Harry shook his head.

"You're enjoying your punishment too much," he said. "Maybe if you tell me what the hell is going on I'll think about it."

"I don't like bribes," she said.

"Think of it as an incentive then," he countered. She rolled her eyes at him but her composure filtered back readily enough. She occupied herself with the last vestiges of her dinner.

"Where were we?" she asked.

"I don't know. I'm too busy thinking about your ass," Harry said. "Something about someone who thought it was a good idea to send a possibly deranged woman into a country that may try to imprison her if she dresses wrong."

"Honestly, I hope they do," Priya said.

"How would Emily being in prison help anything?"

"In what world do you think they'd be able to put her in prison? Honestly, you know nothing has happened to her as of yet because there haven't been countless news articles about a mass slaughter of Iranian officials," Priya said.

"Fair enough," Harry sighed. "But she is skilled at covering her tracks."

"I doubt she'd try too hard in the situation you posed," Priya replied. Harry nodded as she finished, figuring she was right. Although, depending on how lazy Emily felt, he figured she could just mass memory charm people or do any number of things to keep herself unnoticed. Which is what he would have done in those situations.

But also, he wasn't Emily. And he seemed to have more qualms about wanton murder than she did. Especially if she felt slighted. Which meant he had something else to worry about. At least at Hogwarts he had her under his watch. Even if she was being rather useless.

"Anyway," Harry said as he refilled both wine glasses. Their waitress returned and cleared the plates. She left a dessert menu that Priya peered at. "Fumiko and Avery interrupted you while you were, I presume, at that wedding in India."

"No, they interrupted me while I was visiting our friends in Japan, after that wedding in India," Priya said. Harry rolled his eyes, figuring the distinction wasn't relevant for the purpose of their conversation. Of course, he should have known that she'd prefer to be accurate, if given the opportunity.

"And?" Harry asked.

"Well, they told me what idiocy you were planning. That they didn't think they could stop you or talk you out of it. And that, despite the absurdity of it and your general lessened nature, they still thought you'd succeed," Priya said.

"Which I did," Harry interrupted. He regretted it almost immediately knowing that he was the one forcing this conversation and stopping her mid thought was rather rude of him. But he felt the need to clarify the point. He had pulled it off. Because he was Harry Potter.

"Of course you did," Priya scoffed, rolling her eyes as if it was one of the dumbest things she'd ever heard. Still, he sensed it wasn't quite because he'd succeeded. No, he could sense that, like him, she knew he wouldn't fail. Like the thought of even questioning it was stupid. It filled him with an odd sense of pride. Then again, if there was anyone on this rock that knew Harry Potter's limits or lack thereof, it was Priya Patel.

"Sorry," Harry said, picking up on her tone. "Please continue."

"They came to me I believe the night you brought her back. If not close enough. They were not happy with your decision making," Priya said.

"That's a surprise," Harry laughed.

"I know. It shocked me too. Anyway they told me what you did. And why you did it," Priya said. "Although Fumiko speculated you were interested in something a bit more than her assistance."

"Not Avery?"

"He didn't refute it. But she was the one who said it. Whether or not she was voicing her own ideas or his, I don't know." Priya said.

"Rude of them," Harry said.

"It's the obvious conclusion," Priya shrugged. "Especially when someone doesn't have all of the information. And when that someone also was infatuated with the woman in question, it makes even more sense."

"I'm not sure Avery was infatuated with her," Harry said.

"Well, you're wrong. He might have loved his first wife more. But she definitely featured in some of his fantasies," Priya said. She paused for a moment and then added. "Butterscotch pudding."

"The what now?" Harry asked trying to figure out how Butterscotch pudding worked into Avery's fantasies. It only took him a beat to realize he'd rather not know. But then Priya slid the dessert menu to him.

"The butterscotch pudding sounds like the best one," she said. Harry peered down at it and shook his head.

"You are obsessed with butterscotch," Harry said.

"It's delicious," Priya responded. "And don't act like you don't just love watching me suck on those candies."

"Well sure, but that has very little to do with the candies. In what world does butterscotch pudding sound like a better option than salted caramel bread pudding or pumpkin pie cheesecake?" Harry asked, finding himself absolutely bewildered by the stupidity of her choice.

"In the world where I don't want to eat a dessert with five thousand calories?" Priya countered.

"Because pudding is healthy?" Harry laughed.

"Better than cheesecake."

"Isn't the point of dessert to be unhealthy?"

"Sure, but not obscenely fattening," Priya said. Their waitress returned and asked if they wanted anything else. Harry ordered a bottle of Sauternes and the bread pudding. When Priya glared at him and opened her mouth he added the Butterscotch as well. The waitress scampered away.

"So, back to the topic at hand. You don't think I'm trying to sleep with Emily?" Harry asked. He debated being more vulgar. But he went with the euphemism instead. Part of him merely wanted to gauge her reaction. All she did was raise her brows at him.

"That's the question you're leading with?" Priya asked.

"Well, it's where we were in the conversation, at any rate," Harry said. He knew he was stalling. And he knew she knew he was stalling. But he also knew, as he had as soon as he entered the restaurant, that spending time with her was something he should have avoided.

It was all too easy. The conversation is all too familiar. And it reminded him of something he'd tried to suppress as deeply as he could manage.

He loved Priya Patel. He had for years. It was odd, he thought. He knew he'd helped tutor her during her seventh year at Hogwarts. She'd come to a handful of meetings of Dumbledore's Army. She'd mentioned specific things he'd gone over with the larger group. She'd recalled lessons he'd given with a shocking clarity. Yet despite that, he couldn't picture her at Hogwarts.

Well, that was only partially true. He had no problem picturing her in a pristine Ravenclaw uniform, with her cloak unfastened, her blue and silver tie just a little too loose, and her skirt perhaps just a little too short as she, say, leaned over a table in the library. That was easy enough to picture. But that was all a fantasy. He couldn't picture the reality of it.

It didn't shock him that much. She'd only attended three or four meetings. And there were plenty of students involved. As long as they'd signed Hermione's cursed parchment, it made no difference to Harry. And she'd signed it. He'd actually checked. Hermione still had it as a memento. Her name was right under Lavender Brown's and only a few names above Cho Chang's.

Still, now, as he stared at her in the dimly lit restaurant, with the flickering flame of the candle on their table reflecting in her eyes, he wondered how he'd been so blind. He'd been so worried about Cho Chang he hadn't even noticed the girl that he would go on to ask to marry him.

He stopped breathing as those words flashed through his mind. His eyes, instinctively, shot to the silver chain around her neck. Their waitress had picked that moment to bring out their dessert wine, so he didn't think she'd noticed. Then again, he knew she was far more observant than he was. She'd been trained to be. Her job required her to notice the tiniest of details in case they threatened someone's health.

His training, on the other hand, well, consisted mostly of the general theory that if something was in his way, explode it. In the end, he figured she was probably better off.

But the more he thought about it, the more the same conclusion came back into his mind. He still wanted to marry Priya Patel. He wanted to have the lavish ceremony with her entire family, with music and fireworks and a damn elephant if need be. He wanted to unwrap her wedding saree and carry her over thresholds and call her Priya Potter.

He knew he couldn't give in to that animalistic part of him. He knew he'd made the right, albeit painful, decision. He knew he couldn't make her happy in the end.

Ironic in a way, he thought. Her grandmother had implied they couldn't be whatever the other had needed. But she'd thought they'd have a kid to try to save the relationship. Which, of course, filled Harry's mind with even more fantasies he, well, wanted to dwell on. But he didn't. Instead he thought of Farha's words about how they'd then divorce when it didn't work. What she hadn't known is they'd split precisely because they couldn't do that.

"No," Priya said, interrupting his thoughts.

"No?" Harry asked. He'd completely spaced on the current point of their conversation. She'd known him well enough to let him drift off, and then interrupt him at the most embarrassing moment. The one where he clearly had no idea what they'd been talking about.

"While I think you would fuck Emily Price if you were drunk and she crawled, naked, into your lap and dared you to, I don't think you're end goal here is to have sex with her," Priya said.

"Even then I'm not sure I would," Harry said.

"You would," Priya said. "Assuming you were otherwise unattached. You are not the type to cheat. You value loyalty too highly. But you'd get a sick sort of thrill from it. To dominate someone who caused you such pain? To break them? To have them whimpering at your mercy? Oh you'd do it. You'd hate yourself for it after you finished. But you'd do it."

"You seem to have thought about this more than is strictly healthy," Harry said, making his best effort to convince his id that what she was saying was not the truth. And to make sure those images didn't wind up in his head.

"Oh I don't know. Maybe I guess. You could probably sell tickets to the event. I'm sure half the wizarding world would be intrigued. It would be rather fun to watch," Priya said with a half shrug of her shoulders as she sipped the wine.

"What?" Harry blinked, trying to make sense of Priya's words. "You'd watch that?"

"Well, it would be less fun than joining in. But there'd be worse ways to kill an evening than tormenting a Dark Lord to the point where she begged for release," Priya said as their waitress returned with the desserts. She set them down in the middle of the table along with some fresh silverware before she retreated with a comment that the caramel one was her favorite.

"Are you serious?" he asked.

"Maybe," she shrugged, dipping her spoon into the pudding and making a deliberate show of savoring the bite.

"Who are you and what have you done with Priya Patel?" he laughed. He speared a bit of the bread pudding and ate it. He put a chunk of it onto one of the smaller plates on the table and slid it over to her.

"Nothing. I think it might be a fun experience. I practically dared you to invite that Canadian Seeker over one night," she teased, her eyes flashing playfully as she speared his offered dessert and ate it slowly.

"I erm," he felt himself blushing, wondering just how she managed to manipulate him so easily.

"Fucking hell this is better," she moaned in a way usually reserved for the bedroom.

"You're doing this intentionally," he scoffed, but ate another bite of dessert, afterall, it was delicious.

"Some of it," she said. "But you did pick the better dessert."

"Can we maybe get back to the topic at hand?" Harry asked, doing his best to get images of Sophia Sinclair and Emily Price in bed with Priya out of his head.

"For another chunk of that bread pudding sure," she said. He offered her more. In exchange she plopped a couple of spoonfuls of the pudding onto his side plate. He tried it. It was good, but caramel always trumped butterscotch to him.

"So Fumiko and Avery implied I brought Emily back to sleep with her," Harry said.

"Which was stupid. But given that the only time you openly told Avery that you thought you could bring her back he told you it was moronic to even try I figured you likely didn't share much more of your plans with him. At least not as much as you shared with me," Priya said, washing down dessert with more wine.

"I don't recall ever telling you I knew I could revive her," Harry said.

"You didn't. But, you know, I'm a smart girl and once you mentioned what she'd done, well, I can do math."

"Bringing back the dead is math now?" Harry laughed.

"You tease but yes, everything is math. Like literally everything. You would know that if you took a worthwhile class like Arithmancy."

"I'm pretty sure that's the exact opposite of what they teach in Arithmancy," Harry countered, remembering lectures from his time in Emily's diary.

"Anyway," Priya glared at him, her expression darkening for just a moment. "She wasn't dead. Well, I'm not sure that's right."

"Well, she wasn't," Harry said.

"I think she was," Priya said.

"She wasn't really a ghost. You can't injure a ghost the way she was. At least not as easily. And had she been given the option to pass on, I'm sure she would have taken it rather than hiding in the arctic," Harry said.

"I'm sure," Priya agreed in a tone that indicated she didn't agree. "But, honestly, by definition I think she was far closer to dead than anything else we have a term for. So we'll just say she was dead. It'll save us time."

"Fair enough," Harry said. He didn't see how they were wasting any more time on that than anything else. Nor did he see how it mattered. So he took the coward's way out and agreed for the sake of simplicity.

"So, while you never specifically said it. You made other comments that, well, annoyed me at times but spurred some interesting thoughts in hindsight," Priya continued. She finished the bread pudding he offered and reached across the table to take more of his. He fenced her fork away but she was too quick and managed to spear a chunk of it.

"I did?" he asked. His brow furrowed as he racked his brain for any sort of comment she might be referring to.

"Oh yes. It started early on in Nagasaki. You'd make comments like if you had someone else like you, things would be different. It was dismaying really. I thought you were being dismissive of my abilities. It wasn't until I started to realize what you could do that it clicked what you were talking about," Priya said. Harry felt himself frown. Even with her mentioning it he couldn't pick out a specific comment but it did feel like something he might have said.

"Sorry," he apologized for a slight he hadn't even realized had occurred years before they'd even shared their first kiss. She waved the apology away while taking another spoonful of pudding.

"It's fine," she said after she swallowed the food. "I know you didn't mean anything by it. I put two-and-two together when you finally mentioned how it all ended with her."

"I see," he responded.

"It wasn't hard to figure out, really. You were talking about things that didn't seem magically possible. Yet you'd do it. And seemed confused when others marveled at it. Like you expected they should be able to do it too. It was fairly obvious who you were comparing everyone to. In the end, I think you might have done it anyway," Priya explained.

"Done what?" Harry asked, not following the conversation.

"Brought her back in Japan. If you hadn't figured out how to fix the magic, and been able to do it yourself, I think you would have brought her back to do it as a sort of penance. She probably would have liked that better," Priya said.

"Maybe," Harry shrugged. The thought hadn't fully crossed his mind. But her general commentary was in line. He had fantasized about bringing Emily back to help solve magical problems before. "I don't think she would have been any more or less thrilled than she is now."

"She'd have hated it regardless," Priya said. "But there's no reason to speculate. If it ends up mattering we can just ask her."

"If she ever comes back."

"She will."

"I'm glad you're confident."

"I know you," Priya shrugged. "To a degree that means I know her far better than most people would realize."

"So when they were speculating about why you'd already figured it out," Harry said.

"Of course. They'd given your excuse. But they'd called it that. A pure excuse. But I am the smartest girl you know," Priya said.

"So you've said,' Harry chuckled, not bothering to refute the statement. He debated commenting that intelligent people didn't often have to go around saying how intelligent they were. But, well, that seemed silly given that he knew she was, at the very least, more intelligent than he was.

"And, honestly, I'd just healed you. You got spanked harder than when the Japanese Aurors stunned me. Which meant you suffered an actual, devastating defeat and one that I'm sure your mind was spinning about, trying to figure out exactly how it was possible," Priya said.

"I did," Harry agreed. Honestly, he still wondered exactly how it was possible. And why he hadn't gone into the situation with a bit less bravado and a bit more raw power. Why he'd toyed with the start of the right rather than blasting his way through it. He'd reflected enough on it now that he knew it wouldn't have mattered. But his approach to the fight still bothered him. To a degree he knew he hadn't wanted to risk Neville. But he also knew that Neville could take care of himself.

"So whenever I've known you to face an impossible challenge you'd always lamented there not being two of you to make it half as difficult. Now you were destroyed by an impossible challenge. I think I knew what you were going to do as soon as I saw your battered body," Priya admitted.

"You were always perceptive," Harry said. Priya nodded in general agreement at the compliment.

"So it didn't surprise me when they said you'd pulled it off. Honestly, they were far more surprised than I was. Stupid of them, really, like you'd actually fail at something you put your mind to," Priya laughed at the absurdity of it all.

"Failed at one thing I put my mind to," Harry said. He immediately felt bad when her eyes flashed down toward her own body and her lips pressed together. He meant to stifle an apology, but the words didn't come. So he drank more wine.

"Well, anyway, we decided that there needed to be someone who could look at everything, make decisions, and essentially be in charge," Priya said.

"Isn't that my job?" Harry tried to sound teasing. He wasn't sure if it came out as he intended. Priya looked at him as if he were an utter imbecile.

"God no," she said.

"But," He started. She shook her head.

"You do not have a track record for making the best decisions," Priya said with a trace of humor in her voice.

"I make great decisions," Harry said on instinct. Even he knew it wasn't strictly true. As one of his more recent boneheaded decisions had involved the both of them. But he wasn't going to bring that up.

"You got drunk, apparated from New York to the Smithsonian and stole the Lunar Module. Then, after you got back to New York, you sat it in and pressed all of the buttons trying to figure out how to get to the moon," Priya said. Harry felt the embarrassed flush rise up his cheeks as he had done all of those things. And it was probably Avery's favorite story to tease him with.

"I stand by that decision," Harry said. "And I took it back when I sobered up."

"That doesn't mean it was a good idea in the first place," Priya said. "In fact that points more toward it being a stupid idea."

"Well fine," Harry pouted. It was mostly for show.

"So we all agreed that I would be the one in charge. As I'm not only the most level-headed and knowledgeable, but also the least innocuous," Priya said.

"Fumiko is more innocuous than you are," Harry said, finding himself unable to resist the temptation to argue for the mere sake of arguing.

"But not nearly as knowledgeable of you or the situation. And far less so given that she is married to a repentant Death Eater. And on top of that, she's foreign," Priya continued the argument.

"Pot. Kettle," Harry said.

"Yet my passport was issued in the United Kingdom. Along with my birth certificate," Priya countered, rolling her eyes. "Racist."

"Fair," Harry said, knowing he'd more or less walked into that one.

"But Fumiko isn't cut out for being much more than emotional support. I love her, but this isn't in her. Avery is too well known and too obvious, and you're too hot headed. Someone has to be in charge and it can't be any of you," Priya said.

Harry stared at her. It was odd. He felt betrayed by her words but he knew it was nothing of the sort. And he'd known where she'd been going for their entire conversation, even if it had taken a handful of detours on the way there. He sipped his wine while he took a minute to formulate his next thoughts.

He knew she was right. He tended to be rash and let his own power create the solution. And that hadn't worked. Anything Avery would do would be questioned purely because of his past. And Fumiko, for all her positive traits, was a nobody compared to the rest of them.

Granted, Priya was too. But to the average witch or wizard in England, thanks to Fudge's suppression of the news, didn't even realize that Harry and Priya were friends, much less former lovers and confidants. Hell, her famous research didn't even have his name on it when published in Britain. And that could end up being an advantage.

He sighed, finished his glass of wine and placed it back down on the table. He picked up the bottle and refilled Priya's nearly empty glass before pouring the rest of the bottle into his. He peered around the restaurant for a moment and noticed that the crowd was most certainly thinning, but they didn't seem to be ushering anyone out. So he flagged the waitress and ordered another bottle before finally turning his attention back to his former fiance.

"You should contact Hermione," he said.

"We've chatted," Priya said, dismissing his suggestion.

"She made a point to tell me she wanted to be involved. And she's in a good position in the ministry to help," Harry said.

"She's built her career around Fudge, more or less. I don't trust her," Priya said.

"I do," Harry countered. His tone indicated he wasn't going to argue about this. Priya waited until the waitress returned with the bottle of wine and cleared the dessert plates before she continued the conversation.

"Fine. I'll look into it. She could be useful. It might be best if she appears contentious with you," Priya said.

"I'm sure she won't have to fake that," Harry smiled. "Just wait until I submit the new Dark Arts curriculum Neville and I want to try."

"If we have that long," Priya said. "I'm going to assume it's similar to the one you thought of in Japan?"

"Yes. A bit less invasive though. Neville had some great pointers. He can be trusted too, by the way," Harry said.

"He's a former Auror that you got fired," Priya countered.

"He's a friend," Harry finished. Priya nodded. Harry was a lot of things, but she'd very rarely seen his judgements of people be wrong. It was half the reason she'd even agreed to be involved in anything that Emily Price was involved with.

She knew there were people that only saw the good in others. And people that only saw the bad. Deep down she knew she was closer to the latter than the former. Faults were easier to spot. And necessary to spot for her Healer training.

But that wasn't the right way to describe Harry. He didn't inherently see the good in people. Nor did he focus on the bad. No, he saw something else in those he kept around him.

It wasn't the easiest thing to describe. In fact, it was so subtle it had taken her years to really put a finger on it. She half wondered if he even noticed he did it.

Harry saw loyalty. He saw people's intentions. And how those intentions affected him. And in the time she'd known him, he hadn't been wrong. People that she'd thought would be allies based on conversations or feelings Harry had dismissed instantly in their private conversations. In every case they'd proven to be hindrances too.

He'd shrugged it off when she'd voiced her opinion. He'd used the excuse that he'd always been a good judge of character. And then he'd gone quiet and muttered something about his aunt and uncle. She'd tried to press him on it but he'd distracted her and it had slipped her mind. Part of her wondered if that meant she wasn't a particularly good girlfriend. Not that he'd ever had any complaints.

"Fine," she said. "If you trust Neville and Hermione, then I'll trust Neville and Hermione. Neville is like you, though, he's damaged goods. And I can't send him to do anything while he's working here."

"He'll back me up without question on anything," Harry said. "So just assume there's another pair of hands for everything."

"You're taking this better than I thought," Priya said.

"I'm starting to realize that the more trusted allies I have the better off I will end up being," Harry said. He felt himself blush at his words and wondered why they would have that effect on him. Maybe it was the wine talking. Maybe he was looking for an excuse to keep Priya closer to him. There was also the minor point that no matter what he did, he always wanted to impress Priya.

"Well, look at that, you do learn," Priya teased, stifling a giggle as she spoke. Harry smiled at the playful edge in her voice.

"It's a slow process but it does happen from time to time," Harry agreed with a smile. Which had the added benefit of making Priya actually giggle. She looked as flushed as he felt but he figured after four bottles of wine that was to be expected.

They each finished their glasses while stifling their own amusement. Their waitress appeared as if summoned to ask if they needed anything else. This time Harry noticed that the restaurant was nearly empty. He shook his head and told her that their bill would suffice. He paid without question and left a tip that she would certainly tell her friends and family about the next day.

But he was Harry Potter, and he had more money than he thought he'd ever been able to spend himself. Hell, he suspected there were families that lived on less than he'd paid for the adornment around Priya's neck. And, at the very least, he figured it would be better to garner a reputation for being generous than being stingy.

He stood and left the restaurant with Priya. The night air had cooled some more but he wasn't too inebriated for a warming charm so he let the magic flow over both of them. He didn't notice Priya chew on her lip as his power washed over her.

"Walk or carriage?" he asked.

"Let's walk," she responded. He nodded and started off down the path toward the main street in Hogsmeade, and by extension, the castle proper. The night was clear and only a handful of adults passed them on the street. The path leading up to Hogsmead was empty.

"So you decided to act now. After the Skeeter interview with Grindelwald?" Harry asked.

"I've been trying to think of how to proceed since they approached me. Looking for clues as it were. There wasn't much of it. But the bit with the Iranians seemed suspect. And we needed someone we could trust to investigate it," Priya explained.

"So you sent Emily," Harry said.

"I was curious to see how she'd react. To gauge her. It took some convincing but we came to an agreement," Priya said.

"Do I even want to know what bribe that took?" Harry asked.

"I doubt it," Priya said. "But you won't be the one who has to pay up."

"I don't find that comforting."

"It'll be fine," she said. "She needed more of a purpose than sitting around the castle anyway. I think she was fraying. The distraction should be good for her."

"Why her, though?"

"She's perfect for it," Priya said.

"I'm not sure how sending a volatile and violent woman with the power to destroy entire cities in anger if she feels like it is the best person to send anywhere," Harry said.

"She has no history," Priya said.

"She has a very bloody history," Harry countered.

"Emily Price does, sure. But she doesn't have to be Emily Price. Only a handful of people know she's even alive, much less what she looks like. She's powerful, capable, resourceful, and intelligent."

"Grindelwald knows what she looks like," Harry said.

"They met for twenty minutes half a century ago, Harry. And in the middle of a war zone to boot. I doubt he'd recognize her," Priya said.

"Fair enough, still a risk."

"Everything is a risk. We need to get into Iran and see what Grindelwald wants there. She's not linked to either of us. I pulled some strings with that reporter who leaked our engagement," Priya said.

"Really?" Harry interrupted with a laugh.

"Yes. She even looked scared. Anyway, I gave her a backstory. Emily's new name, at least for now, is Iphiginea Darnell. She has media credentials and access to Iran. If anyone will be able to find something out while not being noticed it's her. And hopefully she can find something out," Priya said.

"And you just left her there?" he asked.

"I gave her my watch," Priya said, holding up her bare left wrist for emphasis. Harry focused on her bare left ring finger instead. "And showed her how to use it. Had we not had this conversation I figured you getting a magical ping that I was in danger would send you bolting to save me."

"That would have worked," Harry agreed. He turned his attention ahead, peering down the dark path. He looked up and saw the illuminated windows of Ravenclaw tower looming ahead.

"I thought so," Priya said.

"When will she come back?" he asked.

"I told her to come back after two weeks if she found nothing," Priya said.

"She'll probably use the full time to get away from me, even if she finds something," Harry sighed.

"Maybe," Priya said, clearly not agreeing with him. "I think a part of her still wants to be the hero, even if she doesn't admit it."

"Well, she may get her chance," Harry said.

"We all might," Priya said.

"Unless Grindelwald was being honest with Rita," Harry sighed. "And he's really a repentant hero."

"You don't believe that," Priya said.

"I don't," Harry agreed. "But I also don't think being close-minded about it will help us any. So maybe I overreacted. Maybe I'm in the wrong. The onus is on him to prove it. But if he does, well, then he does. I'm not going to gain anything by assuming it's impossible."

"Fair enough. We might be the baddies," Priya agreed.

"What then?" Harry asked.

"Hokkaido or Shikoku," Priya said.

"Deal," Harry said as they started to approach the castle. They spent the final few minutes of the walk in silence, Harry's agreement hanging in the air between them. As he opened the castle doors to her he broke the silence.

"Are you staying at the castle or are you commuting?" he asked, wondering if he should have already had a room prepared for her.

"I'd planned on commuting. I thought it made the most sense. I'd also planned on getting the occasional weekend shift in at St. Mungo's for appearances," Priya said.

"Probably smart," Harry agreed. They moved toward his office, figuring that would be the easiest spot for her to floo home from.

"It might not hurt to have a room, just in case though. Especially if you treat your employees to four bottles of wine often," she teased.

"First time," Harry admitted.

"Oh, aren't I special," Priya smiled.

"Of course," Harry said. He leaned against the gargoyle outside of his office. The hallway felt less stationary than it should and he figured magical commands were irresponsible at the moment.

"You know something?" she asked, leaning against the other side of the gargoyle and looking up at him. She leaned forward, drawing his eyes to the resting pace of the silver necklace she wore. He meant to look away but he didn't.

"What's that?"

"I've always been intrigued by what the head's personal chambers look like," she said. Harry narrowed his eyes. Something about that statement felt wrong. But his mind was having a difficult time placing exactly what. And it wasn't like there was anything of value in his room so what was the harm of letting someone see how the head of Hogwarts lived. It wasn't a lavish life.

Well, it could have been, had he bothered. But as is he hadn't done much to his chambers. If anything he'd made them rather similar to their room in Japan.

"Oh," he said. "I can give you a tour."

"I'd like that."

Author's Note: As always thanks for reading and reviewing! If you'd like to support me further I am available on PAT RE ON at TE7Writes. The next two chapters of CTS are already live there in all their unedited glory. As is the first chapter of my next Harry/Daphne story.