Stuck With You / drarry

Speaking the Truth

On Monday, when Harry went to work, his mood was gloomy. He felt resigned in a way, like he didn't have anything to look forward to anymore. No surprise visits, no sweaty palms, no bouts of having his heart beat out of his chest. Life would return to its usual tedious flow, and at the moment, it felt too cruel. Outside the weather matched Harry's state of mind: grey clouds had covered the sky and a cold drizzle was back to torment London. He would have to take it one day at a time, one hour at a time.

Harry inspected the permission slips that had once again piled up on his desk, and sent them away one by one after scribbling his signature on them. There seemed to be more with every passing day. A few files had also found themselves on his desk for him to take a look at and provide his professional opinion on. Harry found it strange at least, since he had much less experience than some of the other Aurors asking him for his opinion. Be that as it may, Harry enjoyed thinking about something other than sodding Malfoy walking out on him, so he gladly inspected the binders on his desk. In the corner of his office, Theseus seemed to still be upset at Harry, and didn't say as much as a 'Good morning' upon seeing him entering the office.

Slightly before noon, things had not started to pick up, and Harry decided to take a stroll to Evergrey's office to inquire about the progress on the memory potions case. His steps were quiet on the carpeted floor as he walked the Ministry hallways. There were not a lot of people afoot, and only a few interdepartmental memos breezed by him as he was making his way to see Patrick.

The door to his office was ajar, and Harry placed a polite knock on the doorframe before peering into the room. Evergrey was sitting behind his desk, studying a very large book, reading glasses propped on his long nose. Now he was glancing up from the volume and pushed his glasses on his forehead.

"Morning Patrick," Harry announced and stepped into the office. It was smaller than Harry's, there was no fireplace or armchairs, only a desk with chairs in front of it, and two huge bookcases full of publications and parchments. He was nearly annoyed to see how neatly all of the documents were organized.

"Harry, hi, good morning," Patrick closed the massive book with a thud and laid it on his desk, leaning back in his chair, "what brings me the honour?" he grinned teasingly and motioned for Harry to take a seat.

"Just here to inquire about the case, have they managed to develop an antidote yet?" Harry sat down on the hard chair and peered at the book the man had put down, in golden letters on the brown leather cover it said Magical Criminal Organizations: A Historical Encyclopaedia.

"It's getting there, according to Jameson at the Department of Mysteries, it's ready in approximately three days, we just have to hang in there," Evergrey sighed and lifted his hands to massage his temples. Three days, Harry could wait three days, at least then he'd have something to distract him and he could direct all of his energy into interrogating that bastard Ridgenorth.

"Good to know," Harry nodded, "what's that you were reading?" he gave a meaningful glance at the huge encyclopaedia lying on the desk.

"That? I was just reading more about the Marigold, but nothing useful yet," Patrick said and bit the inside of his cheek in thought. Harry couldn't wait to start interrogating Ridgenorth to find out if he was acting alone, or if in the coming years he would have to battle with a new criminal organization specializing in potions.

"Right," Harry just said absentmindedly, "how was your weekend by the way? Good weather." He cringed internally at how tacky that sounded, he had apparently breezed right through his twenties and thirties straight to being forty-five. Next he was probably going to start talking about the discount coupons for cauldrons that were in the morning's Prophet.