Unofficial Portkey Archive

A/N: Okay, so don't necessarily think that this chapter will introduce a back-up mystery plot. A little bit of one will eventually emerge, but this isn't it. This was just me having a little fun with one of Harry's Auror assignments, and an opportunity to up the tension between Harry and Hermione. Some inspiration for the concept came from Smallville, specifically the red-K effects if you have any idea what I'm referring to.

Thanks so much Meli, UKwildcat820, and you Anonymous reviewers for the feedback!

Please tell me what you think!

Chapter 25: Reaction

"Haven't seen much of Granger lately," Mitch said in a low voice as he and Harry walked towards a decrepit old house at the outskirts of the village of Losking. They were both dressed in sweaters and jeans and leaned casually against the gate of the nearest house, taking care to not gaze towards the ancient home that neither should've been able to see.

"She's been in a weird mood for a while now," Harry replied back, pretending to peruse a map of the town. He cast his eyes around, taking in the heavily wooded area beyond the house and the occupants of the street: an elderly couple were the only visible people in the area, tending to the flowers within their tiny garden. Harry glanced at his watch, hoping that the couple would go inside without any magical persuasion.

He looked back at the now brown-haired and blue-eyed Mitch, knowing that he himself had very similar features. Harry's own hair was also lengthened slightly in order to ensure that his scar remained unseen. To any passersby, they would simply appear to be two brothers considering possible routes to hike in the forest.

"Why do you think that is?" Mitch said. "Something happen?"

"Dunno," Harry said. "She's been sort of…distant ever since Ginny and I announced our engagement."

Actually, Harry thought to himself, perhaps "distant" wasn't the appropriate word for it. After her strange behavior that night, Hermione had been perfectly friendly. Granted, she'd stopped eating lunch with him almost altogether, but Harry knew how strenuous a new position could be at the Ministry. For this same reason, Harry suspected, Hermione's visits had also become fewer and farther apart, and completely business-related as well.

It was really Hermione's increased work ethic that resulted in Harry and Mitch standing here now, outside of Fenrir Greyback's hideout. She had thrown herself into the case quite ferociously, and her continual investigations had discovered the hints that enabled the Aurors to track down the Secret Keeper to this ramshackle building.

"She's probably just caught up with her relationship with Ron," Harry said. "Wondering where it's going. Maybe she'll be a bit better at the engagement party tonight." He saw the elderly woman help her husband rise from the flowerbeds and they both tottered into their small home, perhaps for a glass of water and a well-deserved break. Harry watched them closely.

"Let's go," he said as soon as the door had snapped shut. They stole quickly across the road and slid through the iron gates. The dead grass poking through the cracked stone walk crunched softly under their feet.

As they ascended the steps leading to the porch, Harry raised his wand.

"Alohomora," he murmured softly, and the door swung open.

Harry gestured for Mitch to follow him, and together they crept into the dusty hall. A staircase lined the right wall, and two doors stood ajar on the other.

After a moment of deliberation, he jerked his head toward the first door and Mitch nodded, moving silently towards it. Harry himself strode to the second door. He held his breath for a moment, listening intently. No noise rustled within the room. Taking a chance, he cast Muffliato, and then kicked open the door.

No one was there.

Harry glanced around the small sitting area, taking in the faded couch and the brick fireplace almost black with soot.

"Homenum revelio," he said, and just as he suspected it would, nothing happened.

He stepped once more into the hallway, and Mitch came out of the first room before shrugging and shaking his head.

Harry nodded and led the way up the stairs, thankful that he had cast Muffliato as they creaked loudly.

Dust lay much thicker on the second level, but this only made the footprints lining the floor stand out more vividly.

Apprehension filled Harry as he observed the doorways lining both sides of this hall. However, the footsteps led to only one door.

He glanced over at Mitch, who rolled the shoulder of his wand arm with an eager look in his eyes. Harry gripped his wand more tightly and stood poised. He and Mitch stared at each other as Harry held up three fingers.

Three.

He lowered one finger.

Two.

He held up a single index finger.

One.

Harry blasted the door open and the Aurors charged into the room, ready for any spells that came their way. Somewhat anticlimactically, they found the room empty except for numerous stacks of boxes.

He walked across the room, and stared out of the lone window. He turned back towards Mitch, feeling rather confused.

"What d'you reck -"

Before he realized what had happened, a jet of black light zoomed towards him and collided with his chest. The force of the spell sent him flying backwards and he crashed through the window. Shards of glass fell with him as he hurtled towards the earth and he opened his mouth to utter a spell -

THUD.

Harry hit the ground with resounding force, knocking the wind out of him. He struggled for breath, gasping great mouthfuls of air, but before he had even stood up another body came flying from the broken window.

Harry leapt to his feet as the smell of blood and sweat came to his nostrils. Hot fury laced through his own blood, but he felt oddly calm as he raised his wand and pointed at the back of the retreating Fenrir Greyback.

"SECTUMSEPMRA!" Harry bellowed.

Blood spurted from the numerous gashes that appeared on the werewolf. He howled with rage and pain, and spun towards the Auror.

Without warning, Greyback launched himself at Harry, his teeth bared and a crazed look in his eye -

"REPELLO!"

Greyback was blasted away from him and slammed into a tree. He collapsed into in a heap but immediately went to stand up again, more angry than ever.

Harry swept across the leaf-strewn ground in three bounds and grabbed the werewolf's neck. His fingers tightened around Greyback's throat and Harry forced him upward, slamming his back into the tree once more.

Greyback's filthy hands scrambled over Harry's, trying to pry them away from his throat, but the loss of blood was finally starting to weaken him.

"Crucio," Harry hissed almost casually, and relished the werewolf's renewed thrashing.

He relinquished the spell after a moment, but kept his hand closed tightly around the werewolf's windpipe, smiling savagely as Greyback's face began to turn blue and eyes glaze over, rolling into the back of his head…

"HARRY! What the hell are you doing!?"

"Giving this bastard what he deserves," Harry said to Mitch as his partner ran towards him.

"That's not our choice to make!" Mitch yelled. "Let him go!"

"No," Harry replied evenly. Greyback was beginning to slide back down the tree.

"You can't fucking do this!" Mitch bellowed. "REPELLO!"

Just as it had done to Greyback, the spell blasted Harry into the nearest tree. The werewolf collapsed onto the ground, unconscious.

Grunting, Harry picked himself up from the ground and glared at Mitch.

"Fine," he said snidely. "I trust you can take him in from here?"

Then he turned and vanished, leaving a thoroughly bewildered Mitch behind to incarcerate the werewolf.

**********

Harry strode rather lazily into the Ministry three hours later. He walked the length of the Atrium, up the lift, and across the second floor to the Auror Office without paying the slightest attention to the people greeting him.

The instant he stepped into the Office, however, he was instantly bombarded by Alec Wahler.

"POTTER!" he roared as Harry made to pass him.

"You know, I really have some place to be," Harry said, making an exaggerated show of checking his watch. "Urgent business, must attend to it."

He attempted to walk past Wahler once more, but the toughened wizard stepped in his way again.

"I'm not in the mood for cockiness, Potter!" Wahler said, his face red.

"Of course you're not. Why would a tight-ass like you appreciate humor?"

Wahler looked at Harry with a rather blank expression, seeming to wonder if he had heard him right, and if he had, whether he was joking or not.

"Are you trying to be funny or are you just damn stupid?"

"Probably the latter - is there any other explanation for working under you?"

Wahler's spluttered incoherently, aghast that a subordinate would have such audacity.

"So what's the problem today?" Harry said in a bored voice.

"You know what the bloody hell is wrong!" Wahler yelled, outraged. Harry was amused to see veins standing out on his forehead. "You almost killed your target!"

"Hell of a loss that would have been."

"That's not the point! Aurors don't kill unless there is no other alternative. It's damn wrong, and not to mention how many other assholes we can lock up using his information!" Wahler now lowered his voice so only Harry could hear him. "And Greyback tells me you used the Cruciatus Curse on him as well."

"You're going to believe the word of a former Death Eater over one of your top Aurors?" Harry said, mock-hurt. "I would've expected more from you, Alec."

Wahler was getting madder by the second.

"I could send you to Azkaban for something like that, Potter!" he roared.

By this point, Harry and Wahler had gathered the attention of every individual in the vicinity.

Harry fixed Wahler with a cool stare and sneered into his face.

"I'd like to see you try," he said in a menacing undertone.

Wahler's nostrils flared and his jaw twitched with suppressed anger. He stared at Harry for a moment more before turning and storming towards his office, bellowing at the other Aurors to get back to work.

He slammed his office door behind him with a resounding crash, and then all was quiet.

Everyone now turned his or her attention to Harry, who had stayed in his original position. He glanced around at their curious gazes, and then proceeded towards his cubicle without a word.

When he reached his desk, he proceeded to rifle through some papers he really had no intention of working on, but he had hardly started before Wahler's petite brunette receptionist came sidling into view.

"Mr. Potter…?" she said timidly when he noticed her.

"How many times do I have to tell you, Melanie," Harry said, "it's Harry."

He flashed her a charming smile, and Melanie blushed furiously, as she always did when spoken to directly by him.

She's definitely smitten by me, Harry thought as he observed the girl fidgeting nervously in the doorway. Young…around his own age, perhaps twenty, maybe twenty-one…quite pretty too…

His smile widened slightly as he gestured for Melanie to come closer.

**********

Hermione stood shell-shocked in the door of Harry's cubicle, quite uncertain and disturbed by what she was seeing.

Harry and a brown-haired girl she recognized as Wahler's secretary sat quite close together (so close that Hermione was contemplating the possibility that she was sitting in Harry's lap) and they seemed to be talking intimately together in low voices. His hand grazed the girl's thigh and he whispered something apparently amusing into her ear, because she suddenly giggled into her hand.

Hermione bit the inside of her mouth hard. Mitch had just been up to her office, looking rather distressed about something, and proceeded to tell her that something had happened on an assignment. She had heard nothing else about the details because she had immediately raced to the Auror office to see for herself if Harry was okay.

There was definitely no question of that now.

Both occupants of the cubicle had clearly taken no notice of Hermione's entrance, because they still sat with their faces less than six inches apart.

Hermione shook her head quickly and finally cleared her throat loudly.

The girl's head shot up and Harry looked around with an unfazed expression. He in fact looked as if he was rather bored.

"Am I interrupting something?" she said nastily.

"Yes, actually," Harry replied.

The girl (Amanda? Melissa?) cast a terrified look from Hermione to Harry and leapt from Harry's desk, immediately scurrying from the room. Hermione cast her a withering glare as she passed. She opted for the same look as she faced Harry again.

"You and what's-her-face seem to be making fast friends," she said viciously.

"Oh, you're speaking to me now, are you? And her name's Melanie."

"I don't care what her name is! I care that there was nothing business-like about what I just walked in on!"

"Just trying to spread some inter-office cheer," he said, stretching his legs out on his desk.

Hermione stared at him in disbelief.

"What about Ginny?"

"Ginny who?" Harry said, yawning.

"Ginny Weasley!" Hermione screamed. "You know, red hair, brown eyes, engaged to be your wife! Ring any bells?!"

"Right, right," Harry said dismissively, standing and approaching Hermione. "All the more reason to enjoy the present."

"Enjoy the - Harry, are you even listening to yourself talk?! You…you love Ginny. Why are you doing this?"

"Why do you care?" Harry countered back.

Hermione blinked.

"I - Ginny's my friend - "

"And I am too, last time I checked." He stepped even closer to her and placed his hand on her arm. Goosebumps erupted over her skin.

"Come on, Hermione," he said softly. "Melanie's just a friend…let's just forget about it. Let's take the day off - go dancing or something."

Hermione gazed at him, astonished.

"You - are you asking me on a date?"

Harry grinned. "I'm asking you to have some fun with me. Whatever you want to call it is your choice."

Hermione stepped back more easily than what she would have thought possible, given what Harry had said to her.

"What's wrong with you?" she asked forcefully. "You're not acting like yourself."

Harry frowned. "How would you know? Maybe I'm just letting a side of myself out that you've never seen before."

Indignation flared in Hermione's voice. "Because I've known you since you were eleven years old, Harry Potter! Don't you dare try to suggest that there is a single part of you I wouldn't recognize!"

Hermione clapped her mouth shut as Harry furrowed his brow and examined her thoughtfully.

"You're right," he finally said, turning and picking up his jacket from the desk. "If anyone would recognize this side of me, it'd be you."

He shrugged the jacket on over his t-shirt and turned back to Hermione.

"So maybe you don't know me as well as you think you do."

And Harry strode from the room without another word.

***********

"MITCH!" Hermione yelled, rounding the corner briskly. She had searched her own floor, returned to and looked over the entire the second floor, and even made her way to the Minister's office in hopes of finding Harry's partner there as well. She was now on the third floor, and had lost her patience about three floors ago.

She zoomed through the Obliviator Headquarters, past the small room housing the Muggle-Worthy Excuse Committee, and was just proceeding down the corridor for the Invisibility Task Force when Mitch stepped through a door midway down the hall.

"MITCH!" Hermione shouted again. He turned in Hermione's direction, blanched, and swiveled to walk back the way he had come.

Hermione picked up speed and caught the back of Mitch's robes.

"What-happened-to-Harry!" she breathed dangerously.

"Geez, Granger," Mitch said desperately, struggling to walk as Hermione continued to grip his clothes and dig her heels into the ground. "Let up, will you!?"

"TELL ME WHAT HAPPENED TO HARRY!"

"That's what I was trying to tell you before you ran out on me earlier!" he said. "I've been talking with the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad," he continued, jerking his thumb at the door behind him. "They've got absolutely no clue what could be up with him."

"Well, you've got my attention now," Hermione said, disgruntled. "Tell me exactly what happened."

So Mitch gave Hermione a play-by-play account of his and Harry's mission, detailing how they had kept watch as they waited to get into the house, their search of the lower floor, being ambushed when the had stepped into the upper room, and finally how Greyback had blasted Harry through the window.

"And when I got down to them, Harry had Greyback pinned against a tree and was strangling him," Mitch finished. He shivered slightly. "He didn't even look angry. Just…really calm."

Hermione shook slightly as well. "I don't…he was acting perfectly ordinary when you were searching the house?"

"Definitely. It had to have happened while they were fighting. It couldn't've been an enchantment on the house, cause I would've been affected too…"

Hermione thought through the story. "What was the spell he was initially hit with?"

Mitch shrugged. "Not entirely sure. Some sort of blasting charm. Sent Harry flying."

"But you're not positive."

Mitch shook his head. "He didn't speak the spell out loud."

"What did it look like?"

"Dunno…" He thought for a moment. "It looked like a ray of light. Black, I think."

Hermione skimmed through her knowledge of spells, and could think of very few that released black jets of light. The few that she did know had no effect similar to the symptoms Harry was showing.

And if the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad had no idea either…

"Mitch, where's Greyback now?"

"Hell, by now he might already be in Azkaban. He gave an immediate confession - didn't want a trial either."

Hermione took another fistful of Mitch's robes, though in the front this time.

"You have to find out what spell he used."

"What?! Is that even necessary? We could bring him up here and let the Squad examine him - "

"Firstly, I'm pretty sure Harry's not going to come here very willingly and I know he could beat you in a duel if it came down to it," she said, ignoring Mitch's look of indignation as she continued.

"Secondly, you know as well as I do that it could take a ridiculously long time to figure out what could be wrong, especially if it's rare - for all we know, Greyback could've made it up himself."

"This isn't our department, Granger! I've already told the right people, and they're searching for an answer - "

"MITCH!" Hermione said loudly. "I don't care! We need to figure this out by TONIGHT! I want you to find out from the source! Not the Reversal Squad!"

Mitch winced at the authority in Hermione's voice, but finally nodded.

"Fine," he sighed. "I'll see what I can find out."

**********

Harry slid his hands over the slightly-repaired motorbike in the Weasleys' shed. Mr. Weasley stood next to him, glancing apprehensively through the window as if Mrs. Weasley would pop her head into view at the slightest moment.

"You haven't done much with it," Harry said, cool disappointment in his voice.

"Only been working on it for a few months," Mr. Weasley replied. "Odd weekends and what not. I've taken it completely apart and cleaned up the pieces, but I haven't gotten much done in the way of actually putting it back together."

Harry turned his back on the wrecked bike.

"I've been thinking that I'd actually like to have it back."

Mr. Weasley raised his eyebrows. "Really? I've never noticed you having any particular interest in this sort of thing."

Harry shrugged. "I don't. But it was Sirius's… I'm just feeling a bit more fond of it all of the sudden."

"Understandable," Mr. Weasley said, and then cracked a smile. "Though if I didn't know you better I'd say you were experiencing a pre-wedding crisis."

"Good thing you know me better, then," Harry replied. "When can it be finished?"

"I don't know, Harry," Mr. Weasley said a bit uncomfortably. "I can probably have it reassembled in a few weeks…but have you even had any experience with this kind of thing?"

"Have you?" Harry asked, impatience evident in his voice. "Look, I'll be careful with it. After all, who's more responsible than Harry Potter?"

Mr. Weasley nodded. "Yes… yes, I trust you Harry. I'll have it finished as soon as possible."

Harry clapped him on the back. "Thanks, Arthur."

Mr. Weasley nodded absently, and Harry followed him out into the yard. Before they had walked five paces, however, Hermione had appeared out of nowhere.

"Harry! There you are, I've been looking everywhere!"

"Looks like you found me."

Mr. Weasley looked curiously between the two. "Is there a problem?" he asked.

Hermione felt relief that Mr. Weasley had not noticed Harry's dramatic change in character, and immediately racked her brains for some plausible excuse as to why she had made such an anxious appearance.

"Er…I just needed to check if Harry's finished a report I left for him," she said lamely. "Did you finish it, Harry?"

Harry shrugged carelessly at Hermione's inquiry. "Nah. I kept waiting for it to become more important that my personal problems, but it just never happened."

"How about you come with me and finish it now?" Hermione said through gritted teeth, grabbing Harry's forearm and attempting to pull him from Mr. Weasley.

Harry suddenly keeled over, clutching his side theatrically. "Ouch! I think that's my appendix!"

"Such a kidder, eh, Mr. Weasley?" Hermione said, now tugging at Harry's shirt insistently. She stopped pulling after a moment.

"Is this silk?" she said, her mouth falling open as she felt the button-up shirt's material.

"Finest around," Harry replied smugly, using the distraction to remove himself from her grasp.

"Mr. Weasley, would you mind if I had a few words with Harry?" Hermione asked, trying to sound calm.

"Of course," he replied, an eyebrow raised. "I'll just go inside, shall I?"

"Thanks, Mr. Weasley," she said sweetly, and whirled on Harry when the door to the Burrow had shut. "Harry, you need to come with me right now!"

"Why?" Harry said. "Did you reconsider my earlier offer? Because I know a great place - "

"NO!" Hermione said angrily. "Something's wrong with you! I need to get you back to the Ministry!"

"Nothing's wrong with me, Hermione. I've never felt better!"

"Greyback did something to you, Harry!"

"I'm not going back to the Ministry," Harry said firmly. "You're just being paranoid."

"No, Harry, I'm not!" she said furiously. "You almost killed someone, insulted your boss, and almost cheated on Ginny! I am far from being paranoid!"

"You know, your nose crinkles up when you get all angry," Harry said. "It's pretty cute."

Hermione blushed furiously and rubbed at her nose as she glared at Harry. "This is exactly what I mean! You're not acting like yourself!"

"Which isn't all that troubling, to tell you the truth. I like the way this feels. Very…liberating."

"Oh, very liberating indeed," Hermione said sarcastically. " You're on the verge of being liberated from your job, your fiancé - "

Harry shook his head, for the first time looking vaguely annoyed. "I really don't have time for this," he said, turning away from her.

Hermione lunged forward, but her fist closed on thin air: he had already Apparated away.

************

Harry reappeared at Charing Cross Road and crossed the street to enter the Leaky Cauldron. The pub was considerably crowded, full of wizards and witches intent on having a drink to loosen up after a rough day's work. The moment he walked through the door, silence spread throughout the pub. By the time he had sat down at the bar, however, noise had erupted once more, and he quickly found himself bombarded with multiple flagons of mead.

He grinned appreciatively around and helped himself to one of the drinks. After a few gulps, he glanced to his left: two young blonde witches had sidled along the bar, eyeing him hopefully. He glanced to his right: a pretty brunette witch had done the same.

After a moment of contemplation, Harry angled his chair slightly toward the brunette. He heard two huffs of indignation behind him, but ignored them. He smiled indulgently at the brunette.

"Hey," he said. "Can I buy you a drink?"

The woman looked pleasantly flabbergasted at being spoken to. "Sure," she said breathlessly. Harry signaled to Tom the bartender to serve them two glasses of firewhiskey and then turned back to the witch.

"What's your name?" he asked.

"Lianna," she replied, her finger tapping nervously on the bar.

"That's pretty," he said. Tom came forward at this point and deposited the two firewhiskies in front of them. Harry pushed one to Lianna and brought the other glass to his lips.

The sky beyond the windows darkened as Harry purchased drink after drink for Lianna. She hiccupped happily as he did so, and was soon chattering rather enthusiastically to a continuously disinterested Harry. He himself had stopped after his second firewhiskey and the conversation had degenerated accordingly.

"My last boyfriend never took me out," Lianna said seriously, taking another copious swallow of alcohol. "Hardly ever at all. All my girlfriends told me to dump him, but I just didn't listen."

"Uh huh," Harry said for what felt like the twentieth time that night.

"I thought he'd get better, but he just didn't. He barely ever talked to me -"

"Probably because you did enough talking for the both of you," Harry muttered into the remains of his butterbeer.

"What was that?" Lianna said, smacking her lips vaguely as she drained the remains of her glass.

"Nothing," he said dryly.

Lianna looked at him, smiling serenely as she twirled her empty glass. She eventually extended her hand and placed it over Harry's. She fixed him with an expression that Harry suspected was meant to be seductive; it looked more confused than anything.

"How about you take me home?"

"Aah, if only you'd asked me before my hands were full," he said, picking up two of Lianna's empty glasses. "Otherwise I'd be so there."

"Come on," she said, clearly too drunk to recognize his sarcasm. She pouted as she placed a hand on his chest. "Let's get out of here. We could always go to your place if you'd prefer that - "

She suddenly paused, looking curiously at his chest. "What's that?"

Harry glanced downward and saw the topmost edge of the black mark poking through the collar of his shirt. "It's nothing," he said. "Bruise."

"It looks like a pretty bad bruise…" she said, extending her hand towards it.

Harry lashed out, taking her wrist in a vice-like grip.

"Don't. Touch," he snarled.

Lianna gave an indignant whimper of pain and wrenched her hand away from him. She stood up and swayed on the spot. "Asshole!" she said furiously, and staggered away from him.

Harry watched her until she had exited the bar, then reached into his money bag to withdraw a few coins to pay for the wasted drinks. As he fumbled in his pocket, however, his hand brushed over a slip of paper. He withdrew it curiously, but recognized it immediately: a rumpled invitation to his own engagement party.

He stared at it in the dim light of the bar and then stuffed it into his pocket. He tossed a Galleon onto the bar as he left, drawing his cloak around his shoulders and smiling grimly.

He shouldn't be too late, after all.

**********

Shell Cottage was decorated beautifully for Ginny and Harry's party: Fleur had spent most of the day draping white and gold streamers throughout the house and garden, and golden orbs of light sparkled enchantingly in the starlight. Mrs. Weasley had assisted Fleur in the preparations as well by stuffing every available surface with food and drinks.

Ginny wandered aimlessly throughout the house as guests began to arrive. Her floaty white dress made it appear as though she were part of the decorations. Hermione watched as the guests approached her, offering their congratulations and inquiring where Harry was. Ginny smiled away these questions, though Hermione knew her insides must be reeling if she felt a fraction of what she herself felt.

Unlike Ginny, however, Hermione had very little hope that Harry would show up at all. She had pleaded with Ginny to postpone the party, but, as Hermione was quite unwilling to disclose any information, it had continued as originally planned.

"Where the hell is Harry?" Ron said from behind her, voicing the same thought that was echoing through Hermione's mind.

She didn't respond, instead taking a sip of wine from the glass she held.

"Everyone's starting to get antsy," Ron continued, staring over the crowd. "Surely he didn't forget?"

"How could I forget something like this?"

Hermione whirled around; Harry smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Looks like everyone's having a grand old time," he said.

"As good of a time as possible without you here, mate!" Ron said. "You better have a good excuse for being late, though; Ginny's been going up the wall - "

"She's the one that wanted this thing - she's lucky I bothered to show up."

Hermione groaned: she had been hoping that perhaps the effects of the spell had worn off, but obviously not. If anything, it had gotten worse.

Ron laughed uncomfortably. "Good one, Harry."

Harry ignored the comment as he observed the guests with distaste. "Half these people wouldn't even be here if I hadn't saved their sorry - "

"HARRY!" Hermione said.

"You know it's true," he said bitterly. "Treating this like a publicity stunt..."

Hermione made to grab his arm. "We need to go, Harry. Right now."

Harry stepped back.

"You know, Hermione, I'm actually a bit surprised to see you here. I'd've thought you would've made some excuse not to come."

"Why wouldn't she have come?" Ron replied, an edge to his voice.

"Because she resents the fact that I'm with Ginny," he said, circling behind Hermione. "After all, if Ginny wasn't in the picture, all those years of unrequited pining might actually pay off."

Hermione felt her heart drop into her stomach at his words. He was behind her now, and he leaned in close to Hermione and spoke in a low voice only she could hear:

"And I can't say I haven't thought about it."

Hermione shivered as his warm breath grazed her ear even though she knew it held nothing but a lie.

Ron's ears were beet-red.

"GET AWAY FROM HER!" he roared, advancing on Harry.

Quiet fell over the party.

"Be quiet, Ron!" Hermione hissed, pushing Ron away. "He doesn't know what he's saying!"

"I know exactly what I'm saying," Harry replied smugly.

"You're not helping, Harry!" she fumed. She saw Ginny beginning to approach from the opposite side of the room. Panicking, she spun and pushed at Harry's chest. He finally consented to move into the garden, and Ron was right at their heels.

Harry laughed once the door had been shut, blocking out the rising noise from the party.

"He's just pissed because he's jealous of our relationship."

"Why would I be jealous of your relationship?!" Ron spat angrily. "She's my girlfriend!"

"Will you both just SHUT UP!" Hermione yelled. "I'm not a competition!"

"You are to Ron." Harry sneered at him. "He's always been jealous of everything I've ever had - fame, fortune, talent - and the only thing he's ever accomplished over me is dating you. Hell, he didn't even make Keeper on his own! You had to Confund McLaggen to give him a fighting chance!"

Oh no he didn't just say that. Hermione paled as she looked at Ron. He stared at her like he'd never seen her before.

"Ron, I can explain - "

But Harry wasn't done yet.

"He works in a bloody joke shop, for Merlin's sake! No wonder you won't get a place with him, Hermione! Not like he could help with the rent much. Probably doesn't help his confidence much either. He's already paranoid that if I gave you the slightest attention you'd leave him faster than he left us during the Horcrux hunt."

Hermione felt sick to her stomach.

Ron was positively shaking with anger, though his face was uncharacteristically ashen.

"You're just a trophy to him," Hermione heard Harry say as though from far away. "And he's nothing but your consolation prize."

Ron suddenly launched himself at Harry with a roar of rage, but Harry was too quick: Ron was blasted backward by the force of his spell.

"You really don't want to touch me," Harry said.

Hermione scurried over and knelt to help Ron to his feet, but he tore himself away from her hands. He glared at her more furiously than she would have thought imaginable.

He forced himself up and twisted without sparing them another glance and Harry's crack of Apparition followed seconds later.

Still kneeling on the ground, Hermione stared blankly across the garden and out to the sea. Bowing her head, she listened sadly as the waves crashed against the cliff.

*******

Harry Apparated to Grimmauld Place and entered the hallway, feeling the blood rush through his head.

He felt no remorse whatsoever about what he had just said to his two best friends. They knew it was the truth - why else would they have been so distressed about it?

He tossed his traveling cloak to the side and scanned the house, relishing in the adrenaline rushing through his veins. He had no idea why Hermione would be so angry at his fun.

"Being ridiculous," he muttered to himself.

He glanced around once more, but this time his eyes narrowed. Something wasn't right. He couldn't tell what, exactly, but his instincts told him everything wasn't as it seemed.

Withdrawing his wand quietly, he walked up the stairs, his ears alert for the slightest noise.

Creak.

Harry whirled and bellowed, "STUPEFY!"

Mitch threw himself out of the way as the spell zoomed past him. "What the hell, Harry!"

He didn't lower his wand.

"How did you get in here?"

"Granger told me," Mitch said. "She wanted me to, er, drop something off."

Harry snorted. "Right. You've never been much of a liar, Mitch."

"Well, it's true," Mitch said. He fidgeted uncomfortably. "I was just dropping it off in the kitchen."

"Great," Harry said. "Now you can get out."

Mitch's hand twitched at his pocket.

"STUPEFY!" Harry yelled again. Mitch dodged the spell once more and pointed his wand at Harry.

Harry cast a Shield Charm as Mitch's spell rocketed towards him, but to his immense surprise, it passed right through it.

He fell back against the stairs, feeling as though his insides had been doused with icy water.

Mitch hurried towards him.

"Are you alright, man?"

Harry shook his head like a dog, trying to focus on Mitch as his emotions righted themselves. Then his eyes widened.

"Shit," he moaned, pressing his face into his hands.

"You can say that again," Mitch said, clapping Harry on the back.

"Shit," he said again.

"Thank Merlin you're back to normal," Mitch said.

"What did Greyback do to me?"

"It's a curse that he and a few of his rampant Death Eater pals came up with. It's actually pretty brilliant once you get past the pissed-off factor. They formulated it as a sort of interrogation method. Veritaserum is hard to come by when you're wanted in four countries. Plus the fact that a lot of accomplished wizards can stop its effects if they have their wits about them - "

"I get the point," Harry growled.

"Right. Well, the spell basically takes away any self-control you have. You don't have any desire to keep secrets. Unfortunately, they didn't foresee the fact that you would lose any possible mercy either."

"I still don't really understand," Harry said. "I wasn't just spewing out secrets."

"Think of it this way," Mitch said. "You know that sort of metaphor about having an angel on one shoulder and a devil on the other? It's like the devil bound and gagged the little angel."

Harry raised his eyebrows but accepted the explanation without comment.

"But that doesn't explain why Greyback used it on me."

"I think he was counting on having some backup to capture you once he blasted you out the window," Mitch said. "You know, to find out anything you could tell them about how you defeated You-Know-Who."

"Good thing I wasn't captured," Harry said sarcastically. "Instead I almost killed someone, cussed out my boss, practically cheated on my fiancé, and pissed off my two best friends possibly beyond repair."

"Rough day," Mitch said sympathetically.

Harry paused as he considered everyone he needed to apologize to. Something didn't add up though…

"That spell…it must have done something besides remove my inhibitions…" Harry said slowly. "I said stuff that I didn't mean…the curse must have put words in my mouth…"

"No," Mitch said. "It didn't. I have no idea what you said, but those ideas had to have come from somewhere."

***********

Harry spent the next day apologizing profusely to anyone he had insulted. He talked lengthily with Wahler about his disobedience and he also spoke with Melanie about leading her on inappropriately. They both accepted his apologies quite easily once he had explained the circumstances.

However, Ginny was much less forgiving.

She had stared stonily at Harry as he explained why he had shown up late to their engagement party, and still sat cross-armed when he went to find Ron and Hermione. Even the box of Honeydukes chocolates and bouquet of red roses Harry had given her did little to lighten her mood.

He had purposely saved Ron and Hermione for last, considering they were the individuals he was most nervous to talk to.

He knocked disconsolately on the door of Hermione's flat. After a moment, the door cracked open and Hermione peered out through red-rimmed eyes.

"Oh. Harry."

Harry fidgeted under her emotionless stare.

"Can I come in?"

Hermione glanced behind her, but then nodded and stood back to permit his entrance.

Ron sat at the kitchen table, a cup of tea clutched in his hand. He also stared rather blankly at Harry, but at least jerked his head in a sort of greeting. Hermione passed Harry and sat down at the table as well.

"You can sit down, you know," Hermione said when Harry remained standing in the doorway.

Harry took a few steps closer, but didn't sit. Instead, he pulled a single red rose and a box of Sugar Quills from within his coat and held them up to Hermione.

Hermione took them as wordlessly as Harry had given them.

Ron broke the silence. "You think that you can give her flowers and candy and she'll pretend nothing happened?"

"No," Harry said. "I don't. I just came to apologize. Those things I said…that wasn't me."

Hermione stared silently into her full cup of tea for several moments. But Ron finally sighed, rubbing his forehead.

"I know it wasn't your fault, mate…I just…some of the stuff you said…"

"I didn't mean anything I said -" Harry began.

"Doesn't mean some of it wasn't true," Ron said. "That's why I've got an interview at the Auror Office."

"What…? Ron, if this is because of what I said - "

"It's time for me to step up," Ron replied, cutting him off. "It's just something I feel like I need to do."

Harry smiled. "Then that's great, Ron! You'll be a shoe-in!"

Ron grinned back. "Thanks, mate."

Hermione finally looked up from her cup.

"You said the spell made you say things you didn't mean?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah. It did," he lied.

They stared at each other for a moment, and it was plain to Harry what was going through her mind.

She looked down again, but instead focused her attention on the rose.

"Good," she said quietly, and began to lightly caress the flower's soft petals without another word.

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