Work Text:
Proudfoot knocked on the glossy grey door before stepping back and waiting with his hands clasped in front of him. The gravel crunched under their feet as they shifted, carefully separated from the manicured grass by a thin, severe line along the garden path. Potted plants, dead and brown, sat on the steps by the front door. Signs of life were limited, even despite the house elf suddenly standing in front of them, regarding them with a bored gaze.
“We’re looking for a Mr Cassius Burke,” Auror Hudson said.
The elf nodded, stepping aside and leading them into the house. Hudson, Proudfoot, and Harry followed him down the long hallways, deep into the house and into a spacious boardroom.
The office he’d led them to was cool, despite the hot summer day. The vivid greens of the vines in the garden stopped at the windowpanes, letting only a greying sunlight through. Dust covered the beige and fading furniture, and no portraits or flowers could be seen anywhere in the upscale decor. The pristine leather chairs were plush and beautiful, like they had barely been used despite their age. Even the pile of the Moroccan carpet was standing tall and uniform.
“Hello, gentlemen,” Burke said, standing up from behind his mahogany desk and reaching out a friendly hand. He showed them a toothy smile that didn’t reach his eyes as he gestured to the chairs in front of his desk.
“Are you Mr Cassius Burke?” Auror Hudson asked again unnecessarily, ignoring the chairs.
“Of course, who else would I be?” he said in a distinguished tone without looking at her, directing his words at the two male officers instead. “Forgive me, I don’t know your names.”
“This is Auror Hudson,” Proudfoot said in a soft American accent. “My name is Auror Proudfoot, and this is Auror Potter.”
Harry watched him fail to hide his derision behind the mask of hospitality. Footsteps sounded in the hallway behind them, and Mr Burke’s smile dropped for a moment as he watched his wife and daughter enter the office as well.
“Cassie? What’s going on here?”
Mrs Burke was a tall, greying woman, dressed in morning robes of silk, already holding a glass of red wine in one hand and a tiny brown ball of fur in the other. Her daughter followed her in, wearing cotton pajama pants and wrapping a knit cardigan around herself.
“Law enforcement, my dear,” Mr Burke explained in a friendly tone, though his face still showed his displeasure.
“But I haven’t heard a word from Robards about this,” she protested.
“He would not have informed you beforehand,” Proudfoot told her. He gestured to Harry. “Auror Potter, if you could take Mr Burke into custody? Auror Hudson, please read the charges.”
“Could you please turn around for me, Mr Burke?” Harry said, confiscating Burke’s wand and taking out his handcuffs.
“Cassius Burke, you’re being arrested for international fraud, conspiracy to commit fraud, false representation, impersonation of a government official, tax evasion, and international smuggling.”
“What?!” Mrs Burke squawked. “That’s ridiculous!”
“Daddy, what are they talking about?” his daughter asked, catching the wine glass from her mother’s hands as she sat heavily in one of the stiff leather chairs.
“Nothing my husband did was false,” Mrs Burke complained loudly, snatching her wine back and depositing the tiny brown dog carelessly on the desk in its place, where it shook and cowered at the raised voices. “Those people gave us their money willingly. If they didn’t know that those artefacts were not as genuine as advertised, that was their own fault. We cannot be held responsible for other people’s stupidity.”
“Mum!” Their daughter said, seeming genuinely surprised. She held a hand over her heart as her expression fell. “I thought you said you’d both quit this. You told me you’d cleaned up the business years ago! Did you lie to me?!”
“Oh, don’t be naive, Sarah! How do you think this family makes our money!”
“Is that an admission, Mrs Burke?” Harry asked, as Hudson hungrily readied her cuffs.
“I suppose it is!”
“Mum, no!”
“If you could please turn around for me, Mrs Burke?” Hudson told her, as Harry took her wine glass from her again. “Lacie Burke, you’re being arrested on suspicion of conspiracy to commit fraud. I’m sure we’ll find much more to charge you with after a bit of investigating on your involvement.”
“Ridiculous.”
Proudfoot and Hudson escorted the Burkes out of the office and back out the front door, with Sarah following anxiously behind.
Harry was left in the room, taking stock of his surroundings, checking for dangers or plain-sight evidence. Nothing was apparent, but the place reminded him enough of Lucius Malfoy’s office that Harry was sure there were hidden compartments everywhere. Burke was never a Death Eater, Harry was sure, but that didn’t make him an innocent bystander, either. The fact that they had gotten him on these antiquing charges was a miracle in itself that came from a lead given by savvy retired auror and a lot of combing through paperwork.
A clink! sounded, and Harry looked over to the side of the desk, where the forgotten brown dog had knocked over the wine glass. It puddled on the desk in a thin imitation of glinting rubies, dripping down the side of the desk and onto the expensive carpet as the tiny pup shook and licked it up. Harry scooped up the dog, tucking it into his uniform shirt, and followed his fellow officers.
Mr Burke was standing serenely, as only a man who had a stellar lawyer would. Mrs Burke, however, had much more to say about the matter. She hadn’t stopped talking since they’d put the cuffs on, complaining of health concerns and law semantics, interspersed with insults to Hudson’s femininity.
“Will they be available to be released today?” Sarah asked, “Or are they being held without bail?”
“They’re nonviolent crimes,” Harry said reasonably, “but they’re international charges. It’s hard to say, but I would expect them to stay in custody for quite awhile.”
“Alright,” Sarah sighed. “He promised that they’d stopped after the war. At least the more illicit parts of the business. They’re not really bad people, you know.”
“I know,” Harry said in a placating voice, observing the Burkes and ready to step in at a moment’s notice.
“You’re Harry Potter,” Sarah told him, over her mother’s indignant shouting.
“Auror Potter,” he corrected lightly, sizing her up. She laughed a bit, before catching herself and biting her lip. It seemed she wasn’t too upset at seeing her parents arrested, and he thought it must not be an uncommon sight. “Are you old enough to be here alone, or do we need to call a relative for you?”
“I’m sixteen,” she told him. “I remember you, though I’m not surprised that you don’t remember me. I was a first-year during the battle.”
“Will you be alright here, then?” Harry asked, skipping the recognition like he always did.
“I’ll be heading to the neighbour’s house soon,” she said. “They have a bedroom set up for me.”
Harry nodded. The whole house had an unfriendly air to it and was stale in the same way that Privet Drive always felt. He looked down at the dog in his hand, now chewing on his thumb hungrily.
“Keep it,” Sarah said, sliding shoes onto her feet. “She doesn’t love it. She hardly remembers she has it most of the time.”
“I’m sorry,” Harry said.
“You know how it goes,” she said fairly, watching her mother and father being led away down the driveway and following calmly out the door. “One more year.”
~*~
“Harry!”
Hermione looked up as Harry let himself into her house at Oxford. It was warm and cheery, and smelled like roses and spice. She rushed from the kitchen to greet him.
“Hi, ‘Mione,” he greeted, hugging her tight. A light squeaking sounded from his hoodie pocket as they separated, and she gave him a puzzled look.
“It wasn’t me,” he swore to her. He never missed an opportunity to confuse her, as it was such a rare sight.
“What…” she said, her eyes wide as she searched for an explanation and came up empty. “Harry, what in the world has you making that sound?!”
“I stole this today,” he told her, pulling the little brown fluff out of his pocket with one hand.
Her disapproving look at the word ‘stole’ quickly fell away as her eyes bugged and her jaw dropped. She looked around as though for witnesses before snatching the tiny dog from him and shoving it secretively down her blouse as Harry laughed.
“No one’s after you?” she said, cradling her shirt and looking out the glass of the front door behind him.
“No,” he laughed. It was great to know, as if he didn’t already, that Hermione was ready to break the law for him. Ron was great fun and always watched out for him, but Hermione was his ride-or-die and he loved her for it. “This was actually confiscated. We’re in the clear.”
“Oh, good!” Hermione sang cheerily, leading him to the kitchen.
“Hi, Harry,” Audrey beamed from her place by the stove. “Hermione, how much of this is going outside?”
“Yip!”
“All of it.”
Audrey paused what she was doing, looking over as Harry laughed.
“Sorry, what?”
“Everything on the counter, besides the toaster, is going out to the back garden,” Hermione repeated. “Come on, Harry will help.”
Hermione hugged herself as she led the way through the sunroom and held the back door open for them. Audrey handed him the salad bowls and directed a concerned expression at him from behind her back, causing Harry to break into giggles again as they entered the back yard.
“Oh, good, I love happy Harry!”
“How are you, Hannah?” Harry asked, returning her one-armed hug as she walked them into the grassy garden.
“Hermione, if you need the name of a good chest waxer, I can give you Hannah’s,” Neville quipped, taking half the plates from Harry and setting them on the long wooden table.
“What? Oh, hahaha!” she laughed madly, seeing the little dog poke her brown head out of her neckline.
“Whose wookie is that?!” Audrey shouted, alarmed, nearly dropping the crudite.
“Woogie?” Hannah asked. “That’s a dog, I’m almost positive.”
“A Brussels Griffon,” Neville declared.
“Bless you,” Hannah joked, leaning into his space with a pleased smile.
“Thank you, dear,” Neville said, mesmerised, and kissed her with a smack of his lips.
“Nev, what’s a Brussels Griffon?” Hermione asked, nearly bouncing with anticipation at learning something new and interesting.
“They’re a type of pocket dog,” he explained. “Funny-looking to most, but if you can get over the silliness, I hear they’re good little dogs. Not very common, though. Where’d this one come from?”
“She’s on the lam,” Hermione told them, shaking her hair in front of her shoulders to camouflage the dog better.
“I swear, Madam Malkin is harbouring criminal cats,” Neville said conversationally.
“No such thing!” Audrey argued.
“Well, the neighbours have been looking for a catnapper who’s been taking the doorstops from all the shops in Diagon Alley.”
“How do they even know it’s a cat?” Hermione said defensively.
“They’ve seen it,” Harry said. “We’ve already had several shop-owners come in trying to get the aurors to do something about it. Robards laughed them out of the department.”
“So of course they go to their handsome bearded hero, Mr Longbottom,” Hannah said flirtatiously.
“It’s not like that.”
“Of course it is!” Hermione said. “You’ve had quite the glow up since school. All the old ladies want you.”
“It’s not true!” Neville told the group matter of factly, waving the compliments away.
“Don’t they all hire you to come by three times more often than you’ve told them you need to visit? Like several times each week?” Harry asked, remembering something Neville had said last week.
“Ooh, he’s like the sexy pool boy, isn’t he!” Audrey laughed. “Hannah, how can you stand it!”
“That was because you were working at the Leaky Cauldron. I thought that it’d slow down once I had a ring on my finger, but they don’t seem to care in the least,” Neville complained.
“Aw. Because they’re only playing with you, sweetheart,” Hannah told him. “They’re not really trying to steal you from me, they just like to look.”
“And you’re not jealous?”
“Did you want me to be? I could pretend.”
“Neville, come help this lonely housewife over here,” Hermione asked him. “Ron has enchanted this grill so much that I can’t figure out how to light it at all.”
“Oh, Neville, how could you!” Hannah sang, pretending to be dramatically offended. “Pay attention to me, your one and only wife!”
Harry heard shouts from the front of the house, barely audible under the laughter in the backyard.
“Harry, will you…” Hermione started, holding her shirt and looking split between responsibilities.
“I’ve got it,” he said, heading for the garden gate.
“Hello hello!”
Luna was standing at the front door, deep in conversation with a distracted Draco. Draco was peering through the glass of the front door, looking into the empty house with a look of consternation.
Hello!” Draco yelled again, before stepping back to spy through another window, and looked around. “Harry!”
“Hello, husband,” Harry said, greeting him with a kiss as fresh as their spring wedding.
“Hello, Harry!” Luna chirped as they parted.
“Hi, Luna. How are you?”
Luna waved at him as she marched past them toward the gate she’d seen Harry pass through, still chattering to them. Joining hands, Harry and Draco followed her into the backyard.
“…And they domesticated themselves shortly after the advent of agriculture, of course, which makes sense because… Whose crup is that?”
“Harry’s!”
“No, it’s not,” Draco said, bursting into uncontrolled laughter at Harry’s side, holding on tight so as not to fall over.
“It’s a griffon, not a crup.”
“Sorry, Longbottom, that’s a dog.”
“I agree. Definitely not a griffin,” Luna said critically. “Even the babies would have wings and a beak.”
“It’s just a little baby,” Hermione said, turning a bit to hide the puppy. “Nothing to see here.”
“Hermione, I’ve seen babies. I have one, even,” Hannah said. “Even when she was brand new, she didn’t look like that.”
“Oh, I think she’s lovely,” Luna said kindly.
“Scarlett was only a little bit purple,” Draco said fairly. “I’ve seen pictures where they come out green and blue and red…”
“Tabitha was red,” Hannah told them.
“Molly Anne was a pale and slimy chartreuse,” Audrey laughed. “Percy nearly asked the healers for a refund!”
“I’m not taking trades,” Hermione told them with finality. “I mean, Harry isn’t, because it’s his dog, and he told me so. Earlier. None of you were here.”
“That’s not Harry’s dog,” Draco stressed. “We have cats.”
“Just temporarily, love,” Harry assured him. “Until we find a good home for her.”
“You and your strays,” Draco said, sounding annoyed but kissing his cheek.
A fireball went up near the grill, and Audrey screamed.
“Neville!” Hermione reprimanded from nearby, wrapping her arms around her torso. “Light the grill, not my hair!”
“Sorry! Ron’s put so many enchantments on this, I can’t figure it out!”
“Do we have to wait for Ron?”
“I think we do. Where is he, anyhow?”
“He sent a note home earlier that he’s stuck at the shop. Big weekends take longer to close up.”
“I wish I could have closing hours again. Nursing school is relentless,” Hannah said.
“Try taking an 8am class on Philosophy of Governance,” Hermione complained. “That’ll eat your soul.”
“It’s obvious that none of you have spent your Friday nights in the basement of the Ministry learning Civil Procedure from bloody Dempster Wiggleswade,” Harry told them all.
“I always loved my music classes, but I’d hate to think of my students ever having a hard time in my classes,” Audrey said. “What did you do to get through it?”
“Yes, how did you survive it? I am so close to using illicit substances to keep my eyes open and my quill moving in this anatomy class.”
“Coffee from Ron, and coloured pencils from Teddy. We sat in the back and colour-coded everything, drew pictures, wrote diagrams….”
“I was so proud,” Hermione said, stroking her shaking bosom.
“Was that your hardest course?”
Harry shook his head vehemently. “We had a week of high-pressure practicals. We had to role-play hostage rescues, armed and dangerous custody, acts of terrorism, explosives, and those types of things. Much worse than classroom weeks.”
“And I thought Harmonic Dictation was bad,” Audrey said. “I was about to start talking about jazz!”
“I still have to take organic potions,” Hannah said. “I hear it’s going to be awful.”
“It’s not so bad,” Draco said.
“Says you, the smartest kid in our class,” Hannah griped.
“Hey!” Hermione interrupted from the grill. “I graduated top of the class!”
“Good competition, though, wasn’t it?” Draco said, and she smiled, shrugging modestly.
“Lovegood’s got the right idea, though. She’s studying in the school of life. What are you off to do this time?”
Luna hadn’t lived at home since the war. Ginny had taken responsibility for the vast majority of Luna’s well-being since then, as it seemed to be a low priority for her father. As long as Luna was free and safe, he wasn’t very concerned, so it fell to her friends. Ginny and Luna had spent their summers between Hogwarts at the Shell Cottage and the Burrow, and when Ginny moved into the Harpies dorm, Luna stayed in Percy & Audrey’s guest room.
When Ginny moved to Helsinki to train with the Finnish National Team, it was not hard to convince Luna to join her. From that point on, Luna decided she would rather trade her services in exchange for room & board than look for a normal job. She’d told Harry that she planned to offer help to their friends whenever they had a new baby like Bill & Fleur, moved homes like Harry & Draco, or started a business like Seamus & Doreen. It sounded like a good set up, and so far it was working well.
“Seamus is starting an orchard,” Luna explained. “We have to clear the land, prime the dirt, and plant everything.”
“Sounds difficult,” Neville said. “Especially after your posh year in Malfoy Manor.”
“Harry and Draco are well married by now,” Luna argued. “I’m not needed to keep anyone company.”
“Oh, Luna,” Harry said, heading to the garden gate again as they heard more shouting. “You’re always welcome. This way, Seamus!”
“Why would that sound hard, Neville? Isn’t that what you do with your gardens?” Audrey asked Neville.
“Even with magic, tilling earth is difficult business. Boulders are set in their ways, roots are grown in, nothing wants to change.”
“Especially in old Gaelic country,” Seamus called, walking up. “What’s the craic?”
“Seamus!” Hermione crowed, her blouse wriggling wildly as she stood from the base of the grill. “Our favourite pyro! Please, help us with this thing?”
“Of course,” he agreed eagerly, heading over. “Lads and ladies, you remember my lovely wife, Doreen?”
“Doreen!” Audrey said among the chorus of greetings. “My fellow muggle! I’m Audrey, and I’ve so been looking forward to meeting you!”
Doreen was a thin, brunette woman with little to say. She smiled and nodded sweetly as she looked at each of them, waving shyly. Audrey sidled up next to her, taking her arm and pulling her to sit at the long outdoor table with her. Draco joined them, and they quickly fell into their conversation about muggle television and current events on West End.
“Seamus,” Neville greeted. “You’re not taking our Luna just to make her clear land, are you?”
“No, we’re hiring people to do that. Earth Benders, Doreen calls them,” Seamus explained.
“I could move rocks if I wanted to,” Luna argued.
“I believe you could move mountains,” Harry said.
“I wouldn’t ask you to, Luna,” Seamus told her.
“She’s just pulling your stumps then?” Neville said critically.
“Of course she’s not,” Hannah soothed. Then, unsure, she asked, “Right?”
“Luna is uniquely suited to help me keep the fae and the bowtruckles happy,” Seamus explained. “I’ll need them on my side if I want to raise wand-quality trees there in the future.”
“They’ll be angry that you’re digging everything up,” Hermione said sagely. “But if you keep the places they ask you to, you should be okay. And once they see what you do to the place, they’ll be so grateful!”
“Hermione, you sound like a coloniser,” Hannah teased, though Hermione looked highly offended.
“Change is hard, but letting go of control can be beautiful,” Luna said. “I do think they’ll like it, though. The bowtruckles will, at least.”
“Speaking of changing bodies,” Seamus started, eying Hermione’s squirming bosom openly. “You know I’ve always looked up to you. But I wasn’t aware that more maturity meant more breasts!”
“Seamus, avert your eyes!” Hermione scolded in a perfect Montrose brogue.
“Whose cu is that?”
“It’s a griffon.”
“It’s a fucking dog, Neville!”
“Níl ionat ach coileán beag,” Seamus cooed at the dog poking out of Hermione’s blouse.
“She’s a dog unto her own, leave her be.”
Harry suddenly felt something shift in his bones, and he looked at Hermione to know that she had felt it too. The wards of the Oxford house had shifted to let in Ron and his guest.
“Luna,” Hermione said with a secretive smile, “I’ve forgotten milk for the tea. Would you mind going inside to fetch some?”
“What was that?” Seamus asked, receiving only clueless and anticipating looks from the others.
“Luna’s surprise,” Harry said.
Soon enough, a shriek and a squeal sounded from inside the house, followed by Ron quickly retreating outside. It did him no good, as the two girls followed him close behind, giggling and chatting like best friends who’d been separated for months. Arm in arm, Ginny and Luna squeezed through he back garden door together.
“Ron, your grill is awful.”
“Nice day for it, eh?” Ron said awkwardly, starting up the flame right away.
Ginny and Luna were lost to the rest of them all through the afternoon as they enjoyed their outdoor lunch. Ron had started the grill and had made strips of chicken, steak, and vegetables over the fire. Everyone was catching up on the latest gossip, making plans to meet again, and chatting animatedly.
“Is this because you’ve run out of Weasleys to live with?” Ginny asked Luna later.
“I’m excited to go to Ireland for awhile,” Luna gushed as everyone listened in.
“You’ve been there before. You went to Dublin a few years ago with me,” Ginny reasoned.
“Doreen and Seamus are letting me stay with them in Cork for awhile, until at least Christmas, so I can do longitudinal studies about the social hierarchies of orchard fae. It’s a great opportunity.”
“I’m sure it is,” Ginny said, disappointment apparent.
“She seems very excited,” Draco put in.
“I’ve been away before. It won’t be different,” Luna told Ginny reasonably.
“You’ll be in a different country,” Ginny reasoned.
“Gin, you have a flat in Finland!” Ron said in disbelief. “I just picked you up from the international area of the Portkey Station!”
“Still,” Ginny said. “You could move back to Helsinki with me?”
She was doing her best to look like she was joking, but Harry could hear the thread of wavering fragility running through her words. Luna heard it too, because she leaned forward and wrapped Ginny up in an encompassing hug.
“Change is never easy,” Luna told her. Pulling back and twisting Ginny’s long silky hair over her shoulder, she said, “Neither is self-discipline or doing what’s best for myself.”
Ginny nodded, sad but understanding.
“I don’t want to hold you back,” she said. “I’m not Xeno, you know.”
“No, you grow and improve constantly,” Luna put in gently with a look of adoration. “Far exceeding those who stagnate, no matter how smart they seem.”
“She’s right, you’re much better,” Hermione said.
“I guess I’m still not the best friend I’ve been trying to be,” Ginny said with false lightness.
“‘It is never too late to be what you might have been,’” Hermione quoted. “George Eliot. OH!”
Ginny’s vulnerability was instantly forgotten as everyone gave Hermione an alarmed look.
“Harry…” she started, and Harry waited for her to connect the dots. She pulled the dog out of her shirt finally, holding it out and gazing at its scruffled beauty.
“Whose dirty mophead is that?” Ron asked, though he sounded more resigned than confused.
“Harry, is this George Eliot?” Hermione asked breathlssly, referencing the dog she had always said she’d wanted.
“Is it?” he asked evenly.
“Yes! Oh, Harry, you’re a true, loving human soul!”
“Thanks?”
“Mate, did you just give my wife a dog?”
“Your wife just took in an orphaned puppy,” Harry told him. “Are you planning to push back on that?”
“Don’t do it, mate,” Seamus said, as Neville nodded sagely nearby.
“I would never win anyhow,” Ron said happily, answering Hermione’s glittering smile.