The meeting, No. 2
Apparently, the meeting could go awfully bad. You might be inclined to say, it was your worst meeting of all times.
Later, you would say you just had the worst day of your life. Okay, maybe now you’re being a bit dramatic but you had felt completely devastated.
It had already started bad. After almost backing out of fear before the meeting and spending an hour to get dressed, switching your outfit at least 10 times, drinking 2 cups of coffee and finally deciding to wear an inconspicuous grey suit to work in efforts to emphasize your professionality, you were on your way through the Ministry floors to the meeting room. The Canadian Wizarding Ministry was a rather modern structure hidden in a Gilded Era house near Allan Gardens Conservatory but it was contorted and in cases like this you wished for more direct routes, less labyrinthine paths and most of all, elevators.
As you realized you had looked for the wrong room, ending up in a broom closet, you cursed and realized the room you were looking for was in fact on the 30th floor, not the 3rd.
You had to run upstairs the stairways, the sprint causing you to pant heavily. Looking at the clock, you were already 5 minutes late. As you ran further, quickly passing others, you misjudged your path and with a sudden thrust against one of the passersby you spilled your hot coffee on your pristine white blouse and the grey blazer.
“Fuck,” you cursed out loud, trying to dry yourself. But you didn’t have time to dwell, and continued your sprint to the 30th floor.
The night before you had prepared a detailed presentation about you study object. You had found that Dark Magic Energy could be derived from the geomagnetic field, potentially posing a threat to the Wizarding World. Further, the energy from the fields could be used to drain magic from others and increase to increase the strengths of dark wizards. You were in the midst of exploring if they could be used to produce powerful artefacts. After presenting you findings together with Persephone, your boss, to Ms. Hublot, the Minister of Magic of Canada, the Ministry had agreed to discuss this matter when allied wizarding governments visited to raise awareness in hopes of creating a unified counter strategy. In response to the fiasco of the Second Wizarding War and governments had declared to use more multilateral connections to counteract rising Dark Forces.
But this is where things had turned awry. The British Ministry had been particularly interested in this problem and send a delegation to help. A delegation which unfortunately included nobody else but the Savior of the Wizarding World and your ex-boyfriend himself, Harry Potter.
Cursing your luck, as you stood in front of the room used for formal meetings with delegations and Head of States, you stepped inside.
You immediately saw Harry, standing near the giant windows which provided a beautiful view of the skyline of the city. You couldn’t help but think of him as a beacon in the void, his strong and tall presence with that goofy smile magnetic to everyone around. He was in a conversation with a group of wizards and witches. Some of who you recognized from the Department of International Affairs. Slick and smug bastards who usually talk down to you. But even they were taken by the charismatic spell of the one Harry Potter. It seems like he had just told a joke, since their eyes were glued to him and they started laughing. But you only had eyes for him, the dimple of his cheeks still the way it was etched into your memory.
Before you could decide what to do, preferably to turn around and run, his eyes met yours. You could never have prepared for what was to come. His green eyes lit up as he stared into yours. These beautiful eyes stared within yours from across the room with an electrizing heat. It was like being under a spell. You couldn’t move, you couldn’t even breathe as you stood there, feeling your body growing warmer. A dam in your mind was broken flooding with memories of your time with him. The touches, the kisses, the nights you had spent together.
“Leave us,” his voice rung through the room which has suddenly become very quiet. You somehow knew that his command wasn’t directed at you.
While the others left the room, you calmed yourself by breaking eye contact with Harry and taking some deep breaths. This is only a professional meeting, you reminded yourself. You can do this.
“Good Morning, Minister. I compiled a summary of my research and outlined potential strategies in these documents. I can answer some questions you might have but I would recommend my boss, Ms. Persephone Chambaubert.” You managed to draw up a professional tone and avert eye contact.
You finished your monologue and waited for an answer while looking down to avoid his eyes. But he stayed silent.
You could hear him moving closer and stopped in front of you. A bit closer and you would have bolted.
The second ticked by agonizing slow while you felt yourself fidgeting under his careful gaze.
You couldn’t take it any longer. You just had to look up.
As you lifted your gaze, up his expensive official robes, his body had filled out and his neck revealing a healthy, tanned skin. You gulped, only now realizing the extent of his growth spurt as he towered your head barely made it to his chest. Then your gaze reached his face, his beard and strong jaw showing again that he wasn’t the boy you knew anymore but a grown man. Suddenly you were swamped in a sea of green. A familiar green that screamed comfort and safety and love.
“Y/N,” his voice was barely a whisper. He leaned down.
A chirping sound of a bird outside broke your spell. You took a step back, putting distance between you two.
“If that is all, Minister…” You wanted to turn to leave but he stopped you.
“I missed you,” Harry’s voice went straight to your heart.
“I …” You were at loss for words. No, this couldn’t be happening.
“Go on a date with me,” he asked, sensing your hesitation.
“Harry, I ..” What should you say? “I can’t.” Shit, you couldn’t let him know what you’ve been hiding. You needed him to leave and never come back. But a smaller, betraying voice in you head, asked if that is really what you wanted.
“Why not?” His eyes tensed. “Are you seeing somebody?”
“It’s complicated,” you stuttered.
“Then just a dinner. No strings attached. Please, I just want to see you again.”
“Harry,” his eyes lit up by the mention of his name on your tongue, which made you instantly regret it, “I don’t think this is a good idea. Let’s just stay professional.”
“Please, Y/N. I have waited so long for this. My hotel is close to your house. I pick you up and we can just take a walk and talk.”
Wait. What? “How do you know where I live? Are you stalking me?” You had to gather all your strength not to yelp this. Fear coiled up in your stomach. No, he couldn’t know about him. What if Harry or somebody else decided to come around and saw him by chance? He would surely take him back to England. They would imprison him to Azkaban where Dementors would chew on his soul. No, you couldn’t let this happen. Harry needed to leave now.
“It was in your file.” The man had at least the audacity to look slightly embarrassed. Hell, it made him look even hotter.
“My file?”
“Your employment file. We conduct an extensive background check on all the personnel working on this case since it is of high importance and we cannot allow any affiliations with malevolent parties.” This professional tone of him was new to you. But, of course, he was the Minister of Magic, you reminded yourself. Just more reason to end this discussion and never talk to him again. Now.
Gathering your last bit of professionalism, you took a deep breath. “While I appreciate your interest on my behalf, Minister, I regret to inform you that I will be taking a leave from this case. Please address all your further questions to my supervisor. Pleased to have met you.” And before Harry could process your words and close his gaping mouth you swiftly left.
You immediately flooed home. You needed to make sure Draco was okay and nobody had discovered him.