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Harry summoned his coat and hat from the stand on which they rested, and walked over to the other desk in his office. Sarea's desk. She wasn't working in a way that was comparable to Harry, but rather on her studies. He had thought it a good idea to catch her up on all that she'd missed, especially with Kingsley agreeing that she could stay at the Ministry whensoever she desired; Harry had vouched for her.
"It's time to head home," Harry slid his coat on, and after setting down his hat atop her desk, he pulled back her chair and made for her jacket.
Sarea's closed the book — after leaving a marker in it — she'd been reading and turned her head so as to meet his eyes with her own. "Are we coming back on the morrow?"
"Five days a week, every week until we take holidays. Well, unless you'd like otherwise. I'd rather you be com—"
He wasn't given the chance to continue with what he was saying, for she interrupted him whilst shaking her head vehemently from side to side. "I like it here. I like anywhere with you."
Harry couldn't help the smile he felt as a result of such words. "I like anywhere with you too," he said, much to Sarea's happiness; those serpentine eyes were always full of affection when looking his way. "I was thinking about what you said too, and if you'd like, I could try to do what your father had."
Sarea rose from her seat, the spring-like coil of her lower body making the action smoother than any person with legs would ever be capable of. In little more than a second, she wrapped her arms around his person and pulled him close, squeezing Harry tight as could be.
When she withdrew a good while later, she stretched herself out, her lower body seemingly unable to stay still as it wiggled ceaselessly. "Ready." Sarea's words betrayed an eagerness, one that Harry couldn't let down.
With happiness in abundance, he raised his wand at her lower body, and focused on the results he desired. He doubted he ever reached such a serious state aside from when he was fighting Voldemort, such was the degree of seriousness about him as he began to transfigure Sarea's lower-half. If this was what Slytherin used to do for her, centuries ago as that was, Harry could manage it. Magic has come a long way since then, after all.
And sure enough, within a few seconds' time, he accomplished what he desired. Sarea's lower body in its entirety, had switched from something serpentine, to a pair of legs that seemed as normal as could be.
Without pause, Harry moved to her, offering a hand and his support should she need it.
Sarea had been stretched along the ground for the sake of ease and so that she'd not fall as soon as his transfiguration was completed. Now, she was looking at herself — and Harry — with a look of awe on her face. "You did it."
He shrugged. "I did."
Just like in her hybrid form or her full form, Sarea launched at him. Without coils to spring, however, the movement was far more clumsy and uneven, and as a result of that, she ended up tripping Harry so that the both of them were splayed across the ground, her atop him. Naturally, his arms wound around her.
"Thank you," Sarea kissed his cheek, "Thank you," she kissed his nose, "Thank you," she kissed along his jawline. "Th—"
Harry rolled them over, much to her surprise given the squeak and way her tongue shot out. With him atop her now, his hands supporting much of his weight on either side of her head, he lowered his face to hers and stole his prize; her lips. Unlike when oft they'd kiss, Sarea put up no aggressive front, instead, she allowed him to plunder her mouth to his heart's content, and Merlin, did he.
Soft sighs, contented coos… the noises she made as he snogged her along the office floor, all of it only drove to make him wilder and wilder. He half thought he'd lose himself in her arms, and when one hand with barely noticeable claws found his scalp, scratching in such a way that shivers were sent down his spine, he thought it'd just about be the end.
And then a knock sounded at the door. One that saw Harry pull back with great reluctance. "What is it?" he called back, his eyes not once leaving the breathless, flushed red beauty beneath him.
"The Minister wished to make it known that you and Sarea are invited to his this Saturday for a meal. He said stop by in the evening, whenever works," It was Harry's secretary.
"Thanks — we'll be there, I'm heading out now. Take the rest of the day to yourself," He felt a bit rude with how quick and short his answer must have sounded, but the siren below him that was panting with a heaving chest and narrowed eyes won when put against better manners.
The secretary said something in response, but Harry didn't register the words even if he'd heard them. Instead, he scooped up Sarea, her legs entrapping his waist as his hands fell to her arse, and with nary a pause, he popped them home.
The following morning, Harry woke to the feeling of something cold and soft pressed against him.
After he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and set his glasses back upon his face, he was greeted by the sight Sarea made for. Her hair was wild, her skin was soft and bare and pressed against him for the warmth he radiated, and… and her legs were still present.
They were still present, and mixed with his own. It almost looked like tentacles with how interwoven they seemed. His eyes went to the right then, and a smidge up. He swallowed upon finding the treasure those eyes of his had sought out.
And that seemed to betray that he was awake.
Sarea raised her head and slid atop him, her arms encircling his person as her legs went to either side of him. "Good morning," she nuzzled into him, her voice muffled and taking many a break between syllables as she paused each time to press a kiss against his neck, along his jawline or across his collarbone.
He let his head fall further back, enjoying the feeling of her lips scattering kisses across him. "Morning," he said back to her with a yawn, his right arm rubbing circles along the cool skin of her back while the left came around to wipe away the errant strands of hair she had been moving all about.
Her kiss-heavy assault lasted for a minute, give or take, and when she seemed content enough to stop, she raised her head and rested it alongside his own. Of course, she tilted his body too, that way she could keep herself pressed as much against him as was possible. With her eyes locking his own in as intense a gaze as ever he'd felt, she spoke.
"I love you," Sarea allowed a few seconds to pass, and then she posed a question to him. "You said I didn't need to be a witch to be yours… so am I yours?"
"Yes," Harry said as much without delay, his heart temporarily wresting control from his brain. "And I meant that. You don't need to be a witch, you don't need legs even if yours look right perfect. Just need to be you."
Sarea's face flushed, but unlike most witches, she didn't seem to let embarrassment get in the way of her desires. "You're mine too. My wizard," she kissed him, this time with the passion he was used to as she nipped at his bottom lip whilst her tongue fought his own for the right to dominate the kiss.
When he reached down, his hand gliding across the cool, soft skin of her back until it found what it sought and squeezed, she let out a noise that left her open, and Harry took advantage of that. He took control of the kiss and groaned not a moment later when her nails scratched down his back, just enough for the feeling, but not for blood.
He reckoned he'd be drowned by his love for her.
Harry pulled back after an amount of time he was very unaware of, catching his breath whilst she did the same; the sight she made for in doing so only urged him on, and he was very near willing to spend the morning and afternoon with her in their bed… until he saw the time.
"Merlin," he exclaimed, raising his head which made her nip at his neck in defiance; she wouldn't stop her kisses until she was finished. "It's nearly two."
Sarea practically growled when he made to rise, so he turned to her and tried something new. Something that wouldn't have worked sans the magic that kept her legs, well, legs — he hefted her up, in his arms, and started towards their bathroom.
"Rest day?" Her voice was as alluring as could be, enough so that Harry very nearly did as she suggested.
But he thought better of it as he got the water running, the steam thereof very quickly starting to fill the room as the basin filled up. "Yesterday was our first day, you know."
She huffed, but with her arms around his neck and his own supporting her person, she let the matter drop and raised another. "Wash me?"
That was something he'd happily oblige.
And so he did.
Sometime later that day, the pair were in Harry's office back in the Ministry with each returning to what they'd been working on the previous day; studies for Sarea, casefiles for Harry — reports too.
Her desk, somehow, had shifted so as to be closer to Harry's at some point too. He reckoned she'd moved it when he'd gone off to speak with one of the Aurors that desired a meeting with him. Such a thought was adorable, enough so that he reckoned he'd let it stand. It wasn't like his office was a space for meetings or anything of an overly serious nature, and it'd allow him to help her with any questions she had during her studies.
Harry found himself lost in looking at her. Her hair, her eyes, the cute expression she wore upon her face as she read.
It made him desire to settle something he'd been worked up about since he'd realised what he'd failed to do.
"Sarea?" He broke the silence they'd been under for half an hour.
She looked up from the tome she was reading and cocked her head at him. "Harry?"
"You'll have to forgive me."
Sarea looked confused. "For what?"
"I forgot to say it back."
Her response embodied her personality. "Say it now."
"I love you," Merlin, the words felt liberating. "I—"
The words he wished to follow those three up with would never be heard. Sarea had crossed the paltry space betwixt them in the blink of an eye, and settled into his lap without so much as a word said. Her lips sought his out without pause, and the kiss they shared was as intense, if not more so than even the most heated one they'd shared.
Harry with a wave of his hand locked the door as his other arm wrapped around her.
When she pulled back from their kiss for a breather, she rested her forehead against his own and peered into his eyes.
No words were said between the pair, but an understanding beyond what such things could accomplish, was had. All the desire, affection, love, all of it was visible in the eyes of the other in their shared gaze.
It would always be present.
And so they resumed their kiss, and not more than ten minutes later, they went home for the day.