"Stupid," Harry mumbled, glaring down at the parchment as he wrote, "bloody notes!" If it was one thing Harry had always hated, it was taking notes. He'd hated it in school, and he hated it here. He lifted his hand from the parchment, massaging it with the other. He was going to need healing for his hand, he was sure of it. He had no idea how Hermione had done it all those years.

The thought of Hermione had him frowning anew. He opened his mouth to call for Lorelai when he looked up, started to see Hestia standing there, staring at him. "What?"

"Well, aren't you chipper today. You know, I was thinking," Hestia said as she skirted further into the room smoothly and took a seat. "You should write a book on how to win friends and influence people. You're doing a smashing job rallying the department into one common thought though - they're all fairly certain they don't like you very much right now, and yes, yes, I know you are not here to be liked, but sir, you are being a pouting little bitch, and I think you should stop. Feel free to, of course, disregard this advice, but past supervisors have always welcomed my opinions."

She folded her hands in her lap and waited for the shit storm to start.

"You're completely right." He watched a small flicker of amazement course through her eyes before she stomped it down. "I don't give a flying fuck what people think about me in this department. I'm doing my job. They do theirs. As long as they both get done, I could really care less what they think about me." I've spent far too much time trying to make friends in this department and not enough time making sure things got done, and it came up and bit me in the arse. It won't happen again.

"It's good for you to be concerned about people doing their jobs, yourself included. In my years here, I have seen supervisors come and go, and the ones who got the most done were the ones who did not just focus on the job, but the people doing the job as well."

"That's what I plan on doing." He frowned at her. "Is that it, or are you going to fuck with my files like Natalie did? Because, if you are, let me know because I'll floo home and tell Dobby not to expect me anytime soon."

Hestia started laughing and decided to play innocent. "Did she really? Well, I'll bet that was a thorn jabbing your arse. That's fabulous. She's been in a right snit since Tuesday morning. Is that why? I could have told her not to bother. Just to let you pout it out this week. I swear, you are without a doubt more like Sirius than you will ever know."

She was still laughing. Remembering when Sirius would get into a pouting funk. Remus would do things to him that he knew would specifically annoy Sirius. He was the only one who could get away with such things.

"No, I'm not." Usually, when people told him he was like Sirius, it filled him with satisfaction. The truth was that he wasn't like Sirius. He would have never talked to Hermione the way he had. Hell, Hermione would have never talked to him the way she had. He wouldn't have been in this position in the first place.

"Now why do you say that," Hestia said. "I spent a great deal of time studying your godfather, Harry. I think I know Sirius behavior when I see it."

Sirius was prickly and lashed out horribly when he was wounded. Hestia knew what had gone down between Harry and Hermione had hurt Harry, whether Harry admitted it or not. Sirius was never more awful than when Remus or James were cross with him. He had a verbal lashing ready for anyone who got in his path.

Harry frowned, looking back down at the desk. He wasn't going to argue with her. He was too tired to argue with anyone. "Did you need something, Hestia, or did you just come to 'talk' like Natalie had?"

"I don't think anyone talks like Natalie does. What I need is for you to stop acting like a giant throbbing tit, and not try to overcompensate for whatever inadequacies you imagine you have due to what happened with Hermione Granger. I also wanted to ask if you'd like to speak to Parkinson again. Further, I specifically came in today to let you know that Vincent Crabbe was spotted in Hogsmeade, and I would like permission to post a few bodies in the village just in case. For some reason he keeps coming back there."

Harry frowned. "What would he be doing in Hogsmeade?" The last time Crabbe had been spotted in Hogsmeade was when he'd killed two people, and nearly killed Mac and Malfoy. "Post whoever you need. If he keeps going back, we need people there. Maybe someone will be lucky enough to spot him and follow him, find where he's staying."

He looked up. "When will you be speaking with Parkinson?"

"I was going to defer to you on that in case you would like to be present. After all, it was your case. I have not even contacted her as of yet."

"I most definitely want to be there. Whenever you make the meeting for, just let me know. I'll make time."

"All right. Will do. Don't just make time for work, Harry," Hestia said, getting up. "Make time for life as well. Even a man on the run from the law found time to have a bit of a life once."

Harry looked up at her. "Let me know when you make the meeting for."

Hestia just stared at him or a long time. "I like you, Harry. I always have. Since the very first time I met you in your aunt and uncle's home. Don't ruin that for me, yeah?"

She turned and left. She felt like wringing Hermione Granger's neck. Harry was out of his depth and needed support, and he had not gotten it from one of the people he should have - even if he'd been acting like an enormous tit at the time. That was always a sting. Hestia had always backed Kings, even when she KNEW he was wrong. She'd never torn him down like that. Not to his face, and certainly not to other people.

Harry looked back down at this reports, picking up his quill again. At least something was getting done.



SUMMARY: Hestia pays Harry a visit to tell him he's being a jerk. This time his files don't get knocked all over the room though.