He knew he was sulking. He was sure other people would call it pouting, but he didn't, so sulking it was. He'd snapped at no less than three people during the day, and he was fairly sure Dawlish had taken an extra long lunch because he could see the doom hanging over Harry's desk. Harry couldn't really complain at not having Dawlish there to prattle on about his family, especially when he knew the bugger was sleeping with Megan. Or had been? Was? It didn't fucking matter. Harry didn't care who slept with who. Not anymore.

He slammed a drawer shut on his desk, letting out a very loud string of curses when his finger was caught in the wood and pinched. "Son of a bitch!"

He brought the digit to his mouth and sucked on it, pulling it out to examine. It was already turning purple and swelling. He'd need to get it looked at. His face darkened at the thought. He'd go without medical attention at the moment. Fuck it. It could fall off and die for all he cared.

Harry's gaze turned to the door when he heard the knob start to rattle. Fucking great. "Who the hell is it?"

Natalie had been avoiding Harry thus-far, but she could no longer do that. Kingsley had asked her why she had not reported to her mentor today. Everyone was bitching about how moody Harry was today. Natalie wasn't even looking forward to it. Despite a nice de-stressing from Dean last night full of snuggles and kissing, she was still miffed at Harry. She felt bad for him on the Ginny count, but every time she started feeling too terribly bad about that, she saw that body in her mind's eye. She thought about him being curt with her, for not even noticing or caring that she was completely freaked out.

"It's Auror Trainee McDonald checking in with her mentor because Trainee Supervisor Elect Shacklebolt requires it, Auror Potter, sir," the word sir had been said with the same enthusiasm and in the same tone as the word bastard.

Harry rolled his eyes before standing, cradling his hurt hand against his body. He pulled the door open, looking down at her. "Kingsley requires it. That's rich." He turned, leaving the door open for her. There was a clear chair, but the other one was covered in files. Mostly about the Minister and his murder.

Natalie shoved past him and took her typical stance before his desk. Like she was waiting for orders. She was staring straight ahead. Her feet were braced slightly apart and her hands were clasped behind her back.

He felt like he should say 'at ease' or something, but he just walked around her and retook his seat at the desk. He looked up at her with a raised eyebrow. "Is there a specific reason Kingsley sent you to check with me?"

"Auror Shacklebolt was concerned about the words moody arse being bandied about in reference to your person, sir. He also thought perhaps you might like to accompany me to the training room as the words sullen bitch have been tossed in my direction lately," Natalie said tonelessly, then added, "Sir."

Harry pushed back in his chair, flexing his hand. "So, people have been calling us names and Kingsley thought that the best course of action would be for us to beat the hell out of each other. Yes. Because that makes perfect sense." He sighed, sitting forward in his chair. He looked up at her. She was staring straight ahead. Cautious. He'd failed her, and he knew it. And he was beginning to think she knew it too.

He stood, feeling utterly worse. He stared at her for a second. She still wasn't looking at him. "I'm not sure this is working, Natalie."

Natalie kept staring straight ahead. She was angry at him, sure, but all of this had been an eye-opening experience. Harry was no longer her hero. He was too human and flawed to still reside on that pedestal she'd had him up on. That made him better. It made her goal of wanting to be like him a bit more attainable. Because she was hopelessly flawed.

But if he thought he was getting rid of her, he was about to be confronted with what her father and Kings said was one of her biggest flaws. Her stubborn streak.

"People talk about you all the time, sir. I would think you would be used to it by now. And actually, I think my hitting your fat head a few times would do me a world of good, pardon my being blunt, sir."

"Natalie, did you hear me? I said I'm not sure this is working."

She gave him a look that had made lesser men wilt. "And I chose to ignore that... sir."

Harry's eyes narrowed. "I don't care if you're ignoring it or not. This, me and you, you needing to learn from me... it's not working. I know you're mad at me for what happened yesterday. I don't care. It wasn't necessary for you to know things, so I didn't tell you them. Maybe other people do it differently. Maybe I'm supposed to be doing it differently, I don't know, but I'm not going to have you pissed at me because I didn't coddle you in the middle of a murder investigation."

"I wasn't expecting to be coddled, but a little understanding might have been used. I was the one that walked all around that bloke where he hung and looked at him so the examiners would have a decent report. I'm the one that sees it every time I close my eyes. Yes, yes, I know you've seen all sorts of horrors, but that was my first body, and maybe the first dead person you ever saw didn't give you nightmares, but mine has. I'd hit you in your face if I ever thought you were treating me delicately, but I wanted to freak out, and you didn't even care, and maybe you don't and that's fine. Maybe I misunderstood how this worked. But you can't stop me from being pissed off at you when you act like an arse... which I feel you did. How hard would a this is Mac have been?"

It was silent for a moment before she looked away from him.

"I'm learning plenty, thank you."

"That's just it, Natalie. I didn't even think about you having problems with seeing a body because I've seen so many. I'm jaded. It didn't even occur to me that you'd never seen a dead body before. I'm not a good trainer because I don't react like normal people. I don't know how to teach what I never had the chance to learn."

He crossed his arms over his chest. "And Mac didn't matter. Did knowing who she was really matter to the case?"

"No," Natalie answered honestly. "It did not. It only mattered to me. In the running commentary of my head for my report, I did not want to be calling her that Scottish girl."

It was quiet.

"Stop it," Natalie said. "Maybe I expected too much of you. I apologize. You're not perfect, Harry. Yes, I'm still a bit irritated... because it was not just me you were being an arse to. You are not perfect. That's a good thing though. I think. Come on. You've never helped me in wandless combat. I think I'd like to take a few swings at you."

"Natalie-"

"You are not getting rid of me, Harry. The only way I'll take another mentor is if they pull Mad-Eye out of retirement. You're one of the best. You had more experience by the time you were eighteen than most of your senior Aurors have had their whole time here. You are stuck with me."

Did she really not understand that he was trying to help her here? He wasn't a good teacher. He wasn't able to worry about her and her feelings. Yes. She'd seen a dead body, and it had bothered her, but she was an Auror. She'd probably see many more. He had. He'd seen friends. Mentors. Family. He wasn't good enough to train anybody. He was going mess her up. He was going to ruin her as an Auror.

At the same time, she had seen a dead body. She was training to be an Auror. If it bothered her like it did, she needed to get over it. She needed to separate herself from the job. She wasn't going to take him telling her that. He wasn't going to be able to make her understand that.

"You're right. I've seen more bodies at my feet than anyone I know. You think that qualifies me to teach you? You're wrong. If you're here because you think that because I've seen my friends and family fall around me that I can teach you more, than I don't want to teach you. If you're excited because you have the 'boy-who-whatever' as your mentor, I seriously misunderstood you."

"You're right. You have seriously misunderstood me. You have got to be the dumbest smart person I know. I want you to teach me because you're smart, Harry. Well, right now not withstanding. I usually get excited about working with you because you actually let me work. You don't leave me sitting behind a book most of the time. While it might be wrong, as you say, it's working for me. Mostly. I tend to stick with what works."

Natalie scowled at him.

"I'm getting the vibe that you don't think yourself a very good teacher, but ask yourself this... how many people know more because of you? Believe it or not, when you were running the DA, that's what most people call teaching. That's what it is. Maybe you're unclear, but teaching is passing knowledge you have onto others."

Now she was being a bit shirty but he was pissing her off again. Now she really wanted to just kick him a few times or shake him really hard. He was not perfect, no, but he was damned good, and if he didn't know that about himself then he had bigger problems that mucking up her training.

"I don't want to pass on the knowledge I have to others. I don't want people to know what I know, Natalie." He walked back around the desk and sat back down. How many people had be lost that he'd taught in the DA? Colin. Dennis. George. Marietta. Zacharias. He thought those five names were proof enough that he hadn't been a good enough teacher.

Natalie felt a pang when he named off Dennis, but surely Harry did not blame himself for that. Did he really think he'd failed them? She and Dennis had been fourteen and fifteen during the battle at Hogwarts. What chance would they have stood against the Death Eaters without Harry's tutelage? Did Harry not realize they only reason she was alive was because she managed to get her shield charm up before that wall fell on her? Sure, she might have known how to cast a shield charm by then anyhow, but it would not have been strong enough to save her. If Dennis dying was anyone's fault, it was hers. If she had been just a bit closer to him, her shield might have protected him as well.

He put his hands flat on the desk and looked up at her. "Tell Auror Shacklebolt that we've spoken. I declined his suggestion of wandless combat."

Natalie cocked her head to the side. "It was a suggestion?"

She wondered if she's get in trouble for stalking over to him and boxing him in the mouth. Natalie was pretty sure he'd change his mind on wandless combat if she did that. Instead, she decided on a different tactic to get him angry enough to want to take a swing at her. Natalie moved not to the empty chair but to the open full of files. She picked them up.

"Don't-"

Natalie sat them all in the floor with a defiant look and took a seat in the chair. She was discovering she was feeling a bit offended that he didn't want to be her mentor any longer.

Harry shook his head, looking back down at the file he'd been reading before she'd come in. He hadn't been reading it so much as glaring at it. That didn't change now. He wasn't going to hit her. Not today. Today, if he started hitting something, he wasn't sure if he'd be able to stop.

The file was on Hestia and Madam LeGrot's questioning of her. The fact she had gaps in her memory was interesting. Very interesting, and in Harry's opinion, it wasn't being investigated properly. His eyes flicked up to see Natalie still seated across from him. She was stubborn. How was he supposed to teach her in the first place if she didn't want to listen to him?

He had an odd look, a thinking look. Natalie just knew she was right. She wasn't getting stuck with someone who'd keep her in her cubicle all day just because Harry Potter was having issues. She had them too. Sure, it had become obvious that she couldn't get personal with Harry, but that was fine. It would help her be more about the job.

Natalie sat up straighter. "What? What do you see?"

He looked up and honestly thought about ignoring her. He was honestly considering just telling her to leave, and if she wouldn't, leaving himself. But she looked so eager. Ready. Wanting to help.

He sighed before sliding the folder across the desk for her to read. "This is the transcript of the interrogation of Hestia Jones. What do you see?"

Natalie scanned it, brows furrowing. "Well, it's obvious. Her memory's been tampered with. Harry, why is she still in a holding cell? Has she been examined by a medi-witch? Looked over by a Legilimens? If she has blank spots in her memories, especially the night of the ball, then she's being set up to take a fall. Question is, is it deliberate or convenient? Who would have it out for Hestia? Or was she just in the wrong place at the wrong time?"

Every single one of those questions had been plaguing Harry's already plagued mind. "I don't know, Natalie. She hasn't been looked over by a medi-witch. No one had seen her except her legal counsel." He frowned, thinking he should go visit her. "I don't know."

Natalie frowned. "Not even her niece has been to see her? That's odd. Don't you think? I wonder if they'll let anyone else in. I know why they wouldn't let Kings. They're probably scared he'd try to spring her. He's been very vocal about not believing her guilty for an instant."

"If Hestia Jones killed Scrimgeour I'll publicly declare myself a nutter and willingly get a bed beside Gilderoy Lockhart." He pulled the file back towards himself, looking at her. He wasn't good enough to teach her. He just knew that. He needed to talk to Hestia about getting taken out of the trainee program. He was sure there were still people out there calling for his resignation as an Auror. Maybe it'd be for the best.

There were lots of things she felt she wanted to say to Harry right now, but Natalie knew there would be time for that later. Despite not agreeing with a few of his methods, she wasn't going anywhere. He'd best get used to that fact. Sure, she was put out with him for yesterday, but he was the one who would get her the training she needed so she wouldn't get dead. She knew this, and she was fairly certain that deep down he knew this too.


{SUMMARY} Things are tense between Natalie and Harry. Especially after he tries to fire himself from the job of being her mentor.