Unexpected

"I must admit that when I came to you with my request, this outcome was not quite what I expected." At those words, Harry looked up from where he was preparing a coffee for and met calm, dark eyes. He paused in his actions and met that gaze head on.

"I wonder what, exactly, you were expecting of me," he returned. It wasn't a question, not exactly – more of a challenge perhaps, or even a dare. Even Harry wasn't quite sure what he wanted to achieve by saying that, but from the moment the words left his lips, there was a tension that filled the space between them with a charged, expectant air.

That feeling stretched, heavy with power and a hint of danger, before the captain broke the stare-down, looked away for just a moment and finally gave the wizard a nod – an acknowledgment of sorts.

The tension diffused and Harry blinked at its sudden absence. He waited it out for a moment, but when nothing followed he turned away from the Prince to finish pouring their drinks and then quietly joined the other man at what had slowly become his table.

"What brings you here today, captain?" Harry queried politely, moving past the previous moment as if it never happened.

The other man moved on just as easily. "As I'm sure you are aware, we have the Verrat I asked you to handle currently in custody."

Harry made a non-committal sound and drank his tea, then winced at the heat of it on his tongue - his attempt at nonchalance ruined by the reaction he couldn't quite hide.

Sean Renard met his eyes with a penetrating look and if Harry's own eyes watered from his inadvisable action, the other man didn't mention it. "I do wonder, however," the Prince casually commented, as if was a mere curiosity, "why these Wesen would commit a series of seemingly purposeless criminal offences and yet, for all of their bluster, caused neither injury or damage."

"No damage?" the wizard asked with as much casual interest as he could infuse into his voice, "Wasn't one of these crimes robbing a gothic jewellery store? Or so I've heard."

Renard answered just as pleasantly, matching him in tone, as if they truly were just having a regular chat over coffee. "The stolen merchandise was discovered in a luxury hotel a few blocks away, decorating several of the statues in the lobby. There were no witnesses, but recovered DNA evidence matches these agents."

"Huh," he replied, "well, that is a terrible crime indeed – I know for a fact that those statues are incredibly tasteful. I'm glad they caught the persons who did it."

And maybe he overdid it just a tad. But even if the police captain looked rather exasperated, he did continue playing the game.

"It's curious, though," the Prince pointed out, "because I had one of my own keeping an eye on them, and that man swears that at the time of these crimes, the Verrat were on the other side of the city. I have no reason to believe him to be lying to me."

"Curious," Harry agreed lightly, and smiled back at the man across from him, his secrets kept behind his teeth and a hint of mischief in his eyes. "Well, evidence doesn't lie, does it? And you clearly caught them anyway."

"Well, someone did," Renard said, "an anonymous tip led to their arrest. Surprisingly, the officers managed to arrest them without much of a fight. Apparently one of them dropped their gun and another fell over due to a strange spasm pulling his legs together."

"Seems like the situation resolved itself," the wizard said with a shrug.

Renard smiled wryly at him, "and you didn't have anything to do with it? Is that what you would have me believe?"

And Harry was, surprisingly, actually enjoying their veiled conversation – the way only a Marauder who'd gotten away with a prank could. Not because no-one knew who did it, but because there was no proof - and there was something thrilling about having this unspoken truth.

But he was never truly a Marauder – a prankster. Harry was too honest for it, or perhaps just too aware of what it felt like when you were on the receiving side of a mean joke.

"Believe what you will," he said, but his smile softened into something less defensive or daring and more real.

The police captain hummed thoughtfully and took a sip of his drink. "I am grateful for your help," he finally said. "Even if the methods are unexpected – and unexplained."

The wizard nodded, willing to give way now that the other man had done so first. "I didn't clear them from your city," he conceded, "but I did what I rightly could. Besides, you asked for help, not for me to achieve this singlehandedly. Haven't I given you what you needed to handle this as you see fit?"

The man studied him for a moment before he nodded. "So you did."

"But?" Harry prodded, because it felt that there was more to it – it always did with this man.

The other man silently looked back at him – managing to convey a sense of gravity with just that look. The wizard swallowed and it was more difficult than it should have been to not let himself look away.

Renard leaned back in his chair with a casual grace, taking another drink from his coffee and the wizard told himself firmly not to fidget, because he was not letting the other man get to him like that.

Finally the Prince conceded the silent battle of wills – if that's what it was - and answered him.

"No 'but', Harry. While your methods were… different, they were effective. Having these agents in custody, charged with criminal offences with definite proof of such is as workable a position as having them removed from my city entirely."

There was a silence after that almost-compliment and Harry wasn't sure what more the man wanted from him – what the goal of this entire conversation had been aside from figuring out how the wizard had done what he did.

And while grabbing a few hairs, planting some evidence and providing a little invisible magical assistance were perhaps not all gravely important secrets to keep from this particular man, he could see no reason to inform the Prince of anything more than what he'd likely already deduced from the situation for himself. "Right," was all he could think to say to that.

Renard smiled at him then, as if they were friends and allies instead of whatever they were. Or was that what they were after all? This man always managed to confuse him.

Harry stared at the taller man in silence, trying not to show the awkwardness he felt.

The captain finished his drink and placed the mug down on the table. "Thank you for the coffee," the man concluded their conversation, and with a final polite nod he left the bakery.

The British man sighed and threw back what was left of his tea – too cold now to be in any way enjoyable. Then he stood up to continue clearing up his café.

And he smiled, because when he went over the conversation again, what he took away from this was that it had been an – unnecessarily complicated – thank you.

Word Count: 1230