A Whole Lot Of Capitals - AKA The Potter Problem Project - Drarry

In Which Hermione is Competent Because Harry Can't Be

Harry didn't read the papers the next morning, but Hermione told him that the quotes had been printed exactly as they'd sent them with minimal commentary. That meant they'd look something like this.

A Personal Letter From Harry Potter:
Dear Wizarding Public, it is with great pride and even greater anxiety that I announce to you the failure of my project to find a wife. This is not because there was any shortage of lovely witches willing to court me, it is because I have fallen instead for a man. I'm done lying to everyone, especially myself. Even if this man does not love me back, I will be glad to no longer have to feel ashamed of who I am. Thank you for your understanding through the years. I hope this message finds and empowers anyone who needs it to tell their truth. I am not currently, nor will I ever court a woman again.
Most sincerely,
-Harry J. Potter

In his opinion, Hermione had put it pretty well.

There was one more thing that Draco had said was a problem and even though Narcissa had said that Draco would be negatively impacted by the knowledge of who killed his father, Harry couldn't stop himself from wanting to know.

There was one more stop to make before the final step in his plan. If things went wrong, he'd lose his job. He couldn't seem to make himself care anymore. His heart hadn't been in Auroring for a long time now.

He arrived at the flower shop and opened the door. The sweet scent filled his nose and overwhelmed his senses. He hadn't been in this shop for a while, but he used to buy lilies here for his mother's grave, and before Andromeda had gotten older and he'd gotten busier, he'd taken her Pieris Japonica, the flowers from the Andromeda shrub. What he was picking up now was Narcissus, the intention of which should be quite clear.

He snuck into the labs at work and pulled out the three samples.

He tested Finnley Shaw's first, thinking it highly likely. It came back negative. No need to panic, this wasn't implicating his best friend just yet.

He tested Patricia Gibson's tissue next. It came back negative. So that was it then, wasn't it? He'd already decided that it was wrong to test the candy wrapper and yet...

But he couldn't, could he?

He out the paperweight into the machine and waited. This one seemed to take longer than usual. He could feel his palms sweating. The screen flashed the magical composition and he compared it to the one of the killer.

Negative. Holy Fuck.

He almost pulled the candy wrapper out of his pocket when the door flew open.

"Potter," said Robards. "You shouldn't be in here and you know it."

"I do, sir. I'm sorry."

"I saw your statement in the paper. Normally in a situation like this, I'd overlook your recent transgressions as stress, but here you are again."

"Yes sir."

"Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

Did he?

"No sir."

"Then drop the formalities, Potter. I'm not your boss anymore." Robards gave him one of his rare smiles and Harry returned it tentatively. After all, he'd just been fired.

"Understood, sir." He might have lost his job, but Robards didn't hate him. The press would have a field day with this and say he was going crazy, but it didn't matter.

He had one more sample to test, though, so he could know for certain if they'd found Lucius Malfoy's killer, or if they'd messed up somehow. He looked over at the flowers that were waiting on the counter by the machine, and then he realised he didn't have to test anything at all. He already knew.