Harmony Anthology- Short Story Collection

Happy Valentine's

"Harry, I love you like a brother, mate, but Merlin." Ron shook his head as he packed up his paperwork to go home. "Volunteering to work on Valentine's? You know all the weird shit happens today. Everyone's going to be love potioning someone and screaming about it to MLE."

Harry shrugged, not looking up from his own stack of paperwork. Explaining exactly why he had had to obliviate an entire congregation at the local church was quite a story. "Another lesson to me then on why I should remain single. Relationships are trouble."

"You say that now. Just wait until you meet someone..." Ron's eyes glazed for a minute while he pictured his girlfriend and he trailed off.

"While I find your family's insane preoccupation with populating the wizarding world with Weasleys very maniacally cute, I'm happy just being by myself."

Harry paused looking down at his summary.

Violating Act 14.3042 of the Ministry Decree against enchanting religious objects for the purposes of tormenting muggles, one Octavius Pennystone charmed an approximately 3-meter-tall statue to perform the Macarena. (see detailed notes below)

A loud sigh drew his attention and he found Ron gazing at him gain with a bit of pity. "You're too focused on the job. You need to get out more."

"I am the job."

"Yeah, that's the bloody problem."

"Not to me."

Ron looked out the window seeing the sun moving lower on the horizon. "Fine whatever, to be continued, I got to make this dinner date or you'll be investigating my murder. If you need me, send your stag, and I'll work it out."

"I got it, stop worrying over me– your mum does it enough already."

"Fine." Ron pulled on his cloak fixing the collar, shrinking his briefcase, and placing it in his pocket. "See you tomorrow."

"Later."

The macarena is a muggle song where you ...

What? Gyrate? Move your arms strangely? Harry groaned and ran his hands through his hair. When the door opened and two patrol men came upon the bullpen floor looking a little confounded Harry was grateful for the interruption.

"What's up?"

"It's the bookstore owner again." Both of the patrolmen avoided his eyes. "You uh– seem to be able to —er– talk to her better."

Harry tried to ignore the way his heart skipped a beat. The bookstore owner.

"What's happened now?"

"Well no one is talking but there was what like—" The shorter patrol man looked over at his buddy. "Like ten wizards floored?"

"Yup." The taller man said with a pop of sound.

"And let me guess no one is talking about the incident?" Harry asked.

They looked at each other. "Everyone says they had an accident and got a bit banged up."

"Right." Harry scoffed. "No worries, I've got it."

"Thanks, Potter." Both patrolmen gave him grateful nods.

Harry waved them off standing up to drag on his auror cloak, checking to make sure he was ready for anything. A bit of dittany, a dagger, an alert coin, a chest strap with a row of potions. He stopped and doublechecked himself before sticking his hands in his pockets and strolling off whistling.

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The bookstore off Knockturn Alley was neatly turned out, as opposed to its neighboring shops which looked messy and dusty. The letters were neatly stenciled in Slytherin green, Hermione's Book Nook.