a/n I feel the need to apologise for two things. First; I am sorry that this chapter took a bit longer than usual but it has been a hectic week at work and I was not able to devote the required time to it. If the quality is affected as a result then I am really, really sorry.
Second; the pace of the past few chapters may be perturbing a few of you. I can only say that I am setting the scene for what I hope will be a more exciting ride over the next few updates. Some action to come and - of course - some issues to be resolved between our hero and heroine. Keep the faith!
I should also say that I am extremely grateful to all of you who have taken the trouble to review. Some of the comments have been a great help to me and I hope my writing has improved as a result of some of the pointers and tips received.
Thanks again.
BF
***********
Conversations
Harry felt like he was getting nowhere as he closed yet another ledger and placed it on the ever growing pile of those books that either he or Hermione had studied. This was an aspect of investigations that he had never enjoyed; the sheer, mind numbing tedium of paperwork. So far, they had barely made a dent in the vast pile and he was beginning to wonder if the answer to the whole case did indeed lie within one of these leather bound books.
But then, Cho had found something that she thought significant enough to speak to Ron about, didn't she? There had to be something here - what else could "transfers" mean?
He glanced at his watch and realised with astonishment that they had been here for nearly two hours. They had risen early - just after six - and after a hasty breakfast they had made their way straight to Gringotts in order to maximise the time at their disposal. Breakfast had been a quiet affair with neither of them saying very much. He'd been tired as a result of not getting much sleep. Despite needing the rest, his brain had refused to shut down, instead mulling over the case for much of the night.
Of course, that had not been the only thing on his mind. Whenever he tried to clear his thoughts they kept returning to his brown eyed friend in the next room. He could not recall feeling so frustrated - or so confused - in his whole life. He was as certain as a man could be that his longing for Hermione would be reciprocated and it occurred to him that her own quiet demeanour at the breakfast table might also be as a result of a restless night. There was no doubt in his mind that there was a certain...something between them and he dared to believe that it might be that she felt the same way he did.
He cast a glance in her direction, noting how she was focussed entirely on the ledger in her hands. He knew that they had come within moments of kissing yesterday and he was sure that his advances had not been unwelcome. She'd looked at him with such tenderness and love that he'd felt compelled to act and had it not been for the sudden arrival of that goblin then they would have crossed their own personal Rubicon.
That's what I want, isn't it?
He was aware of the many arguments for them not to take that particular step. She had been engaged to Ron; he to Ginny. They were best friends and that friendship could be put at risk by romantic declarations. Many people would suspect that they had always felt like this - suspect that everything else had been a lie. Maybe it was just a case of loneliness overruling all other factors?
But he knew in his heart that none of this mattered. He loved Hermione; loved her from the very depths of his soul; loved her more than life itself and he clung on to the hope that this love might be returned. He also knew that the issue had to be resolved one way or the other; he could no longer live his life in limbo and he needed to know if they had a chance together. He knew that if he was wrong then his life would not be worth living, but he simply had to know.
Soon. I will tell her soon.
'Are you OK, Harry? You seemed to have phased out for a moment there?'
He started, surprised by the sudden interruption to his thoughts. He took his time before answering; making sure that he was composed so that his voice did not betray him. He smiled.
'I'm fine; it's just that all these numbers are turning my brain to mush.'
Hermione had a mischievous look in her eye for a moment. 'I suppose that's understandable; it doesn't take too much to achieve that, does it?'
'Ha ha,' he replied sarcastically. 'Just because my mind works differently to yours doesn't mean it's no good.'
'I should think your mind works differently to everyone, Harry - it's practically unique.' She could tell that this type of work was not his thing and decided to give him a break. 'You said you wanted to speak to Kingsley; go and have a word with him and I'll keep plugging away at this. Why don't you leave this to me for now?'
Why? Because I want to be near you, that's why. Because whenever I'm not with you I don't feel whole.
'OK,' he replied after a pause. 'I shouldn't be too long. I might pay a visit to a few other people too - see if I can't rattle a few cages.'
She smiled at his reply and watched as he stood and grabbed his coat. 'If you need me for anything, just use the mirror, OK?'
'Sure,' he replied as he headed for the door. 'I'll see you later.'
As he made his way out, he reflected on her parting words, smiling grimly to himself as he did so.
I need you for everything, Hermione. A bloody mirror is of no bloody use for that.
************
Ten minutes later, Harry rapped smartly on the door of Kingsley's outer office and entered. He smiled as Susan glanced up from her work and raised an eyebrow in enquiry.
'Is the boss in?' he asked. 'Has he got a few minutes?'
Susan smiled. 'He sure is. And he's free at the moment although I know he would always make time for you, Harry. Just go right in.'
Harry nodded his gratitude and rapped softly on the inner door.
'Kingsley?' he tentatively asked as he slowly swung the door open.
'Harry! Come in! Come in; get yourself a seat. Good to see you.' He held out his hand dhjkhjk Kingsley held out his hand and was pleased to see that Harry took it without a moment's hesitation and shook it vigorously. 'Fancy a coffee?' he asked the younger man, indicating to a small pot on a side table.
Harry smiled. 'I'd love one, thanks. I've been pouring over paperwork this morning and my head is swimming. I think some caffeine ought to do the trick,' he replied as he made his way over to the pot and poured himself a cup of the thick brew. He loved Kingsley's coffee; it was always strong and always spiced with a pinch of salt - something he'd never thought to try himself, but something that gave the brew a certain quality. He took a quick sip and savoured the taste for a few moments.
Kingsley watched the younger man with interest as Harry poured himself a cup of coffee. His many years as an Auror had honed his observational skills and he now put them to good use. He noted that whilst Harry still retained the same sense of restlessness that had been evident upon his return, there was now a subtle difference in his demeanour. The hardness that had been visible a few short days ago was now gone and his young friend seemed more at ease with himself - the sparkle in his eyes had finally returned. It was obvious that Harry had something on his mind and whilst Kingsley knew that the Malfoy case would be occupying much of Harry's time he suspected that something else was niggling away at his friend. Kingsley smiled to himself.
Hermione Granger.
He'd known all along that Hermione had been Harry's best chance of recovering from the emotional scars that had plagued him and it was gratifying to know that he'd been correct in his assumption. His own sources had informed him of the new living arrangements between the two friends and it was with some amusement that Kingsley speculated on what was on Harry's mind right now. It would seem that the two of them might be finally trying to correct what - in his considered opinion - had been the mistake they had made five years ago when they had chosen their respective partners. He wished them both well.
He waited until Harry finally settled into his chair before speaking. 'What can I do for you, Harry? Despite the fact that I know you value my excellent company, I take it this isn't a social call?'
Harry smiled at the remark. 'No; it's not a social call. I just need to update you on a few things.'
'Such as?' asked Kingsley.
'Such as the fact that I might have a lead on where the escaped Deatheaters are,' Harry replied, knowing the impact his words would have. As expected, Kingsley nearly spilled his own cup of coffee down his front.
'Seriously?' Kingsley spluttered.
Harry nodded. 'Seriously. Do you remember Willie Widdershins?'
Kingsley knitted his brow in concentration for a moment. 'Willie? Of course I know Willie. He's the most incompetent crook in the world.' His eyes narrowed. 'You're not seriously trying to tell me that Willie Widdershins knows where these people are.'
Harry smiled. 'That's exactly what I'm telling you. I'm almost certain that he does - I'm hoping to speak to him later today.'
Kingsley took a moment to digest this latest revelation. 'Do you want me to have him picked up?'
Harry shook his head. 'No; he's got company so if we pull him in we might tip them off. I don't think Willie wants anything to do with them but it seems likely that they have been using him as a fetch and carry man. I don't think he had any choice. If this is the case, can I offer him immunity?'
Kingsley considered the question for a moment. 'If he can tell us where they are and IF he's been working for them against his will then he gets a pass. You might want to suggest to him the alternatives if he proves recalcitrant.'
Harry smiled. 'Oh, don't worry about that; I know exactly how to deal with Willie.'
'How did you discover this? Did this come up in your own investigation? Is it linked to the Malfoy case?'
Harry took a moment to reply, wondering just how much he should tell Kingsley about the case. He finally decided that he could trust him fully; indeed, he felt faintly ashamed that he could even question the integrity of this man. Kingsley was as straight as they came; if he was corrupted in any way then Harry knew there was no hope for any of them. He began to speak, explaining everything that they had discovered. He left nothing out; telling him of his findings in Draco's flat; of the Chang party; of Lucius Malfoy's argument with his son; of Dung's discovery and his own subsequent confirmation of Willie Widdershins new status; and finally he told him of the revelation that Cho had met with Ron shortly before his death. Kingsley was silent throughout and when he'd finally finished, Harry noticed that his friend had a deeply thoughtful expression on his face.
'So the two deaths are linked,' Kingsley finally commented.
'It would appear so. Someone is up to something but I can't work out who or what it is yet. The only thing I know for certain is that Draco Malfoy is innocent. I can't prove this yet though and I'm running out of time. I've only got three days left and I don't know if that will be long enough to run down the clues.'
Kingsley nodded soberly. 'Is this why you have been speaking to the goblins?'
Harry was shocked. 'How the hell do you know that?'
'Everyone knows that, Harry. Have you not seen the Prophet today?' asked Kingsley as he pulled a copy of the newspaper from his desk drawer before handing it to Harry.
Harry was horrified; there on the front page was a photo of Hermione and him entering Gringotts. Shit.
'Bastards,' he whispered. 'They must have someone following us.'
'Or they just had someone waiting in Diagon Alley,' replied Kingsley. 'They do have an office there; it's possible that someone spotted you when you passed. You are big news, Harry, much as you hate the fact. Everyone is interested in this case. Cho Chang murdered; Draco Malfoy the main suspect and Harry Potter and Hermione Granger investigating? It's a gossip monger's wet dream. I'm surprised they haven't got a picture of you taking a leak,' Kingsley added with a smile.
Despite himself, Harry laughed at the remark. It couldn't be helped; he'd always been front page news and the extra dimensions to this case just spiced it up. He noticed that Kingsley now had a serious expression on his face.
'Harry, you should know that as Minister, I am unable to interfere in the investigation of a Soul Thief. However; I will be able to provide Auror support if your information on the escapees is correct. I take it you will want to interview them if we manage to capture them?'
'Too right I will.'
'That's what I thought. I'll notify the Aurors to be ready.'
'Can you do me a favour, Kingsley? I don't trust everyone in that office. Could you wait until I receive confirmation? And even then, could you wait as long as possible before telling them? We can't risk tipping them off before we move.'
Kingsley conceded the logic. 'Fair enough; I won't say a word for now.' He looked amused for a moment. 'I might even dust off the old robes and take the lead on this one myself. If you have no objections, that is?'
Harry smiled his relief, glad that Kingsley had decided to take a pro-active role in the case. 'None at all; although I trust that driving a desk for five years hasn't blunted your instincts? We don't have room for passengers - especially those of a….more mature vintage?'
'You cheeky little bastard!' replied Kingsley, smiling. 'I'll show you whose instincts are blunted.' The two men shared a laugh before Kingsley turned serious again.
'You realise you have left me with a dilemma, Harry?'
'How so?'
'I trust your judgment; if you say Draco Malfoy is innocent then that's good enough for me. You don't have enough to convince the judge though and I cannot acquit Malfoy without abusing my powers. The law must take its course.'
Harry nodded. 'I understand.'
'However; I could not in good conscience allow Malfoy to be kissed but the most I can do is commute his sentence to life in Azkaban and even then there will be repercussions. Of course; I could decide to overstep my authority. Do I order an innocent man to be imprisoned for the sake of constitutional legality? Do I set a precedent that allows Ministers to overrule the courts? Or do I let Draco Malfoy be kissed to uphold our laws? I never thought I would have to face a decision like this when I became Minister.'
Harry felt a sudden surge of sympathy for this man. Kingsley was as decent a man as he'd ever known. His integrity was obvious and the very fact that he was wrestling with his conscience over the fate of someone who had once supported Voldemort spoke volumes for his character. He thought of the two previous occupants of this office and it occurred to him that neither would have given the matter a second thought. Kingsley would be damned whatever he decided to do.
Why was it always the good men who were left hung out to dry?
'I'll do my best to take that decision away from you. If I can prove Malfoy's innocence then you won't have to do anything.'
'I know, Harry. Just let me know if you need anything.'
'Thanks,' replied Harry as he stood to leave. 'I'll be in touch once I speak to Willie. See you later,' he added as he turned and headed out of the office. He felt vaguely cheated; he'd hoped to receive some counsel from Kingsley and whilst his friend was doing everything in his power to help he still felt burdened by the extra responsibility that had been thrust on him. His mind was churning as he meandered his way through the Ministry corridors towards his old office.
On arriving at the Auror department, he was pleasantly surprised to see that only Tom Proudfoot sat at his desk - the others were evidently out on assignment. He stood and leaned against the door.
'Do you ever do anything apart from paperwork these days?' he asked archly. He waited until Tom looked up before continuing. 'Is this what you've been consigned to? Office junior?'
'Tom smiled. 'Bugger off, Potter. I'm here only due to my diligence and my conscientious nature, I'll have you know.'
'You always were full of shit, Tom. Where is everyone?'
Tom leaned back in his chair and sighed. 'Fucked if I know. It's been unreasonably quiet recently so I don't know what everyone else is up to. Still; I suppose even the crooks take a holiday every now and then. Is there something you need help with, Harry?'
'Actually, there is. I'm glad you're on your own.' He made his way into the office and took a seat opposite Tom, putting his feet on the desk as he did so. 'Do you know anything about the party at Chang's house the night Cho was murdered? I got a copy of the guest list and I noticed that Robards was there. So was Dawlish. What's all that about?'
Tom smiled and ran his hand through his hair. 'Another bloody party?' He rolled his eyes. 'Robards has been to hundreds of the damn things since you left. He's become quite a regular on the cocktail circuit.'
'Why?'
Tom shrugged. 'No idea. He says it's because of his position; that as "head of a government department he has duties and responsibilities to perform."' Tom indicated the quotation marks with his fingers as he said this and the disgust was evident on his face.
'He really said that?' asked Harry.
'He really said that. Of course, the "duties and responsibilities" seem to consist of munching as much free grub and quaffing as much free booze that he can lay his hands on. He's an arse; he has an inflated sense of his own worth. He even insists that one of us accompany him to these damn things as he reckons a man in his position requires an aide.'
Despite the evident disgust on Tom's face, Harry burst out laughing. 'An aide? Is that why Dawlish was at Chang's that night?'
'Probably. It would have been his turn. We all have to do it and its bloody murder, let me tell you. I've had to attend about four of the damn things and would you believe that Robards won't even let us have a drink? He says that we're not allowed to be drunk on duty.'
Harry did his best to look solemn. 'That must be terrible for you.'
'You have no idea, Harry. It's bad enough listening to these people telling each other how important they are without having to endure it sober.'
Harry couldn't hold it in any longer and burst out laughing. Tom feigned hurt for a moment before finally joining in.
'So do you know if anything untoward happened that night?' he finally asked.
Tom seemed to consider the question. 'Not that I'm aware of. From what I can tell, it was just a typical cocktail party with the usual suspects in attendance. I take it Fudge's name was on the list too?'
Harry nodded, surprised by the question.
'I thought as much. No doubt Mockridge and Swing were also there?'
'How did you know?'
'They are always there, Harry. No cause or event too small for those guys when there's a good buffet and some fine wine in the offing. It's good PR for them too - there's a society column in the Prophet every day that details it all. It wouldn't surprise me if Robards kept the cuttings in a scrap book.'
Harry tried to hide his disappointment. He'd thought that there was some significance to the guests at Chang's party but it seemed that it was a normal occurrence. 'What do they talk about?' he finally asked.
'Apart from themselves, you mean?' Tom replied. 'Politics. Nothing but bloody politics. Most of the talk these days is about that bill your friend Hermione is trying to push through the Wizengamot and - no disrespect to Hermione - it's dull, dull, dull. You'd think at least one of them would want to talk about Quidditch, wouldn't you?'
'They don't?'
'No such luck. Like I said; it's boring. Even if I had been there I wouldn't be able to tell you if anything untoward occurred. I just switch off when I have to go to one of these things.'
Harry smiled despite the feeling that he had been stymied once again rising within him. He stood and made to leave. 'Well, thanks, Tom. I'm glad I was able to get you on your own anyway; I can't stand all the attention I get when I walk in here these days.'
'I thought you'd be used to it by now,' replied Tom.
Harry didn't answer; instead, he just gave him a glare to which Tom had the good grace to look sheepish about.
'Well, I'd better be going. I'm off to see if I can get a hold of Fudge. Do you know where I can get him these days?'
'Yeah,' replied Tom. 'He's got an office on the fifth floor although I don't know what the silly old fool does to justify it.'
Harry smiled at the comment knowing that Tom held the same opinion on Fudge as he himself did. He waved goodbye to his friend before heading out of the door and making his way to the fifth floor. As he passed people in the corridor he became aware of their scrutiny. He was getting rather fed up of being the main show in town and for the first time since returning he began to wish that he had remained in Peterhead.
Then he thought about Hermione and chided himself for the delusion. He glanced at his watch and noticed that it was drawing closer to lunchtime. With a smile, he pulled his mirror from his pocket and decided to give her a call.
Some lunch would be nice. And seeing Hermione will be even nicer.
***********
Hermione glanced up from the menu she was perusing as the door to the inn swung open. She smiled as she saw Harry enter the pub and she watched as he cast his glance around the room to try and locate her. It struck her once again just how much of a presence her friend cast in any room; even if one was not aware of Harry's exploits one could not help but notice him - even in a crowded bar.
And he was noticed. She saw more than one female patron eye her friend up and down approvingly as he continued to look for her and she knew that none of these women knew anything about Harry, for this was a Muggle pub that they were in. She smiled as he finally located her and as he headed towards her and joined her at the table she drew a strange pleasure when she realised that a lot of the female attention was now transferred to her. They were checking her out to see what kind of woman got to enjoy the company of such a fine looking man. She knew she shouldn't feel so petty, but she had an overwhelming desire to stick two fingers up at these minxes. Harry is here to see me!
'Hi,' he said with a soft smile. 'Can I get you a drink?'
'Thanks, Harry. A glass of white wine will do me.' She watched as he made to go to the bar but before he'd had the chance a rather pretty young waitress approached and took his order. The smile she bestowed on him was breathtaking but he seemed to pay it no attention.
Good.
'So what have you being doing this morning?' she asked.
Harry took a moment to reply, but when he did she listened with interest as he went over his meeting with Kingsley and his conversation with Tom. It was a lot to take in.
'So you never got to see Fudge?' she finally asked, once he had finished.
'No; the old git was off gallivanting somewhere. His secretary said he is due back this afternoon so I might try and see him before I go to talk to Willie. How did you get on?'
'Nothing yet, I'm afraid. There's just so much to go through. I'm glad you contacted me - I needed a break.'
He smiled. 'No problem. Lunch is on me.'
'No! I can pay my own way.'
'I insist. Take it as a token of gratitude for everything you have done for me. A very small token,' he added.
Despite trying to remain calm, she blushed. It occurred to her that she had being blushing quite a lot recently and she berated herself for acting like a love struck teenager. I wasn't even this bad when I was a teenager!
'It's nothing, Harry. I didn't do anything special.'
He reached across the table and took her hand. 'It was everything,' he said softly. 'Don't you get it? I was drowning, Hermione. You pulled me out. I don't think I will ever be able to repay you for that.'
His gaze was so intense that she felt herself almost being pulled into his eyes. She gave an involuntary shiver and to hide this fact she gave his hand a soft squeeze. 'Harry, having you back with me and smiling again is all the thanks I will ever need.' She lowered her eyes. 'I don't think you will ever appreciate just how much your leaving affected me. My life was on hold when you were gone. I worried about you constantly.' She looked up again and saw that his face had darkened and she admonished herself for causing him distress. 'I didn't say that to make you feel guilty, Harry,' she added hastily. 'I just wanted you to know that you...mean a great deal to me. That I missed you.'
Harry looked away for a moment and Hermione thought that she had gone too far; that she had undone all of the good work that the two of them had achieved together. When he finally responded, his words came as a mere whisper.
'I am so sorry that I ever left,' he began. He turned to face her and she almost wilted under his gaze. 'You needed me, Hermione and I wasn't there for you. I'll never forgive myself for that. You never abandoned me when I needed you; not once despite everything we went through together.' His face twisted into a biter grimace. 'You even followed me when you knew I was wrong. I never did the same for you.'
'But I told you to leave,' she said in a small voice, looking away from his gaze.
'And I should have known that you didn't mean it. Look at me, Hermione. Look at me!' he insisted as she ignored his initial request. Reluctantly, she turned to face him again. 'We have known each other for nearly thirteen years,' he continued. 'We have been through so much together. I should never have doubted you. For that I am sorry. Will you accept my apology?'
Hermione suddenly realised that she was glad that they were finally discussing this; that they were finally laying this ghost to rest.
'No,' she said, firmly.
'No?' Harry asked, incredulity evident in his voice.
'No,' she reiterated. 'You have nothing to apologise for, Harry. What's done is done. We both said and did things that we shouldn't have so I think we should both accept that and move on. Perhaps we needed a bit of distance between us? I wouldn't have realised just how much I need you in my life if you hadn't gone so perhaps it was for the best. Just don't do it again,' she added.
Harry stared at her for a long moment and she thought she could detect a hint of moisture in his eyes as he regarded her.
'Not in this life,' he whispered, his voice hoarse. 'You too,' he added. 'I need you in my life too, Hermione. I always will.'
She felt a sudden surge of emotion within her at these words. She felt almost lightheaded at the exchange and she finally realised with certainty that the two of them might - just might - have a future together. Harry was looking at her with a need in his eyes that almost disturbed her and it was with a feeling of some relief that the waitress chose that particular moment to request their orders.
As Harry dealt with the girl, Hermione came to a resolution. They had been dancing around one another all week. It was time to put a stop to it; it was time to start behaving with the honesty and openness that had always defined their relationship. This was not the place but she resolved that they had been skirting round the issue for long enough and that it had to be dealt with.
Tonight, Harry. Tonight we sort this out once and for all.