A/N: Hello and thank you for checking out this story. I am unfortunately forced to start on a grim note. Due to a poor soul who flipped out, I am compelled to ask you to head on over the my profile and read the note on Mind Games to avoid ruining any sensitivities or misconceptions you might have when you reach the end of the chapter. I will, however, say that the story deals with adultery and substance abuse, and that it (obviously) doesn't follow the path JK wrote for these character's life. On a lighter note, this is the 2.0 version of MG! Seven years in the making, sheesh! Read and leave your thoughts. :)

He needed to have sex with his wife.

The thought made its way into his head with an alarming sense of urgency as he shifted uncomfortably in his chair, trying his best to accommodate a reaction triggered by something as innocent as a smile. The chair he had almost dozed off in suddenly felt as relaxing as a nettle sting, the cushioned seat and back pushing against his vertebrae and buttocks as if it wanted nothing to do with him and his unruly behavior. Ridiculous, he knew. The chair had not changed in the past minute or two he'd been wasting wondering just when he'd last thoroughly bedded his wife to the point of exhaustion. Five, six months, perhaps? Yes, he couldn't even remember the last time he'd fallen asleep or woken up with his wife by his side, or even the last time they had shared a bath in order to have some private time before their Godson awoke. It had to be that. He was just randy after being abstinent for so long and the sight of a pretty face had brought some slumbering corner of his brain he'd shut off due to work and stress back to life when he had no particular use for it.

He supposed it had been rather rude of his part to simply drop back down on his chair behind the cover of his desk when he'd been standing just seconds ago, eager to greet the first person who'd applied to the Auror's Department in several months, but the heavy oak desk was currently granting him some means of protection from prying eyes that might join them in the office. The last thing those lovely gold-speckled brown eyes needed to see was the uncomfortable bulge pressing against the line and top button of his slacks. It didn't help that he'd decided to wear a cream colored pair instead of the dark ones he usually donned for work, which he knew would do little to conceal the fact that he now displayed a sudden uncontrollable erection against them. He shifted in his chair again and managed not to look entirely horrified as he shot her another glance-and she smiled again.

This isn't happening.

A pang of despair was plucked from his chest like a musical note, reverberating through his suddenly-fluttering stomach and lower to pool at his groin. He resisted the urge to fumble in his seat and blurt out an excuse as to why he couldn't simply get up from his chair and greet her as if nothing had happened between them. Barely anything had happened between them, really. He couldn't remember if she'd ever triggered this strong of a reaction when they had been kid-of-sort-of something during their short lived relationship. If what they had shared during that year could even be called that. It had been short and sweet but also terribly bleak and embarrassing for both of them, he was sure. There had been no bad blood between them when they had shared some semblance of contact during the last minutes before they had plunged into an all out war at Hogwarts all those years ago, but they had never really been anything but distant acquaintances during that time. Their break-up had guaranteed that. That she could trigger such a powerful reaction years after with the history between them without even trying to do so was...mortifying, to say the least.

Not that she wasn't attractive, of course. She had always been lovely, with her long dark hair and bright, clever eyes, but that had only been part of why he'd liked her. It had been that spark of mischief in her eyes, the sweet curve of her smile and flash of pearly teeth that had first set his heart aflutter during his third year at Hogwarts. He had found himself head-over-heels with just that simple gesture of camaraderie she'd bestowed upon him during the game, but the same smile she'd shared when they had still been softened by youth was not as innocently enchanting as it had been back then. The slow, utterly sensual curve of her full lips made something tighten in him-he was afraid to even name what it was he felt- and affected him in ways he couldn't even begin to describe. And, God help him, she wasn't even looking at him seductively so he could excuse what she did to him. The gesture was casual and simple, her eyes warm and full of vaguely concealed glee at finding themselves sharing a room after nearly a decade apart.

He should smile...he should anything other that sit behind a desk like some pompous jerk with too much confidence in his own abilities and power in the department to care for ex girlfriends and old companions, but he was frozen in place. This was hardly any different from the time he'd tried asking her to go to the Yule Ball with him. Twenty-five years old and he was still the nervous, bumbling wreck he'd been when his limbs had seemed too long for his body and freckles had dotted her heat-tinged cheeks and pert nose like stardust. His mouth opened but closed just as quickly, and he swallowed down the thick sensation that had gathered in his throat and tongue. His attention was suddenly diverted to the man silently standing at the doorway, and as he stared at his superior through the thick frame of his glasses he forced his wild thoughts into something coherent and willed his body to cool down the flare of heat she had so unknowingly provoked in him before clearing his throat.

If the man knew of the effects their newest recruit had on him, he showed very little. Then again, he hadn't expected much of a reaction from the oldest member of the Auror's department. Harold Sturm, with his large frame and hard features remained as silent as he'd been since Harry had first joined. Now in his mid sixties, Harold's hair had almost completely gone grey and while his face and hands bore the marks of time, he still stood like the hardened veteran he was. Those damned black eyes were hard and focused on his emerald ones as if he sensed the weakness he'd felt when she had walked through the door, but his face was set in stone. He expected Harold to introduce them and clear the awkward silence that filled the room- the man was the head of the department, for heaven's sake- but he had a knack for letting things resolve on their own, especially when they concerned other human beings. If it didn't require brute force, Harold was likely to keep his distance and observe how things played out. Which was why Harry couldn't wait until he finally retired and he could more effectively run the department, maybe even pass the job of tending to new recruits to someone less likely to find themselves facing uncomfortable situations like the one he was currently embroiled in.

Although...if he kept quiet, Harold would feel honor-bound to actually say something and save the young woman the embarrassment of just standing silently between two men who looked like they had no interest in recruiting her at all, and maybe she would balk at the thought and turn down the job. Yes, the department was in dire need of members and there were already talks of opening several rooms in different floors to keep the Ministry Police from being overwhelmed should an emergency arrive, but he could hardly spare the handful of men he did have. Most of the Aurors that had occupied the vast wing had left on an indefinite break given to them by the new minister after the war had ended and they had finished cleaning the remnant of Voldemort's army, and few of them had returned. The rest had retired in the years after, leaving him with a handful of young and untrained men to tutor. The situation looked bleak- he knew this. Still...if she lost her nerve by him not openly approaching her- he really couldn't afford people with no steel in their spines to join the Ministry's elite force against evil- he could save himself the hazard of having someone see him and whatever this was. Not that it would happen again. He was sure this was all just a fluke, an event that would never repeat itself once he went home that night and made love to the woman of his dreams...right?

"Are you otherwise engaged, Mr. Potter?" There was a quiver in her chin before the sensual murmur danced across the empty room, a tightening in her jaw that had stuck him as a surprising gesture of her unwavering resolve. "I can return if you are inconvenienced at the moment."

She didn't seem uncomfortable as Harold shrugged his wide shoulders and made his way back into the main room used to house the squad, leaving them alone once again. He could've sworn she even looked slightly...amused? He somehow managed not to grimace at the thought as he finally gathered the will that had apparently tucked itself away in one of the room's drawers at her arrival and searched the mess of papers on his desk until he found the sheets destined to bear her information-the first step to having her officially join him in the department-his sanctuary of sorts since the end of the war- if she managed to qualify for the position. His ears prickled with heat as her eyes rested on his face, intently watching him as he dipped the quill on his hand in its inkpot and until he finally met that unfathomable gaze.

"Your name, Miss...?"

"Cho." As if she realized she had casually said her last name and then left the rest hanging in the air because she knew he was intimately familiar with who she was and he had already been scribbling her information down before she had even answered, she quickly added the rest. "Chang. I'm six-and-twenty, Mr. Potter."

"And why are you here, Miss Chang?" He frowned after asking the question, but realized his mistake shortly after. He had never really asked her if she was a Miss Chang still before his quill had left a nasty blot where the answer should've been. The thought of her settled down with a husband and maybe even children of her own suddenly made him uncomfortable.

"I was under the impression that it was rather obvious." He looked up from the parchment to find her smiling mischievously, her eyes twinkling. His stomach did that weird flipping thing it did when he was severely nervous, and he had to fight off the urge to reach out and place his hand over it, hoping to calm down the wriggling mess. "I'd like to join the your Department."

"I am not sure if you're aware, but there is also a secretary position open in here. Are you applying for that or..." He gestured at the badge pinned to his chest and looked at her expectantly while he pleaded that she would say yes to the first. Please. Please. Please. Let it be the first one. "I wouldn't like to assume and write you down for the wrong thing."

One delicate eyebrow arched in question, lips quirking at the corner as if she suspected he was trying to steer her in another direction. Then again, maybe she just found the whole situation amusing and he was being paranoid because of what had happened earlier. "Assuming the offer to join if one participated in the war is still open, the Auror position."

Heaven's above, she really did want to join the department even if it meant they would be working together. He didn't quite understand the situation he currently found himself in. Wasn't there some sort of unspoken rule between people that stated you were supposed to avoid your exes at all costs? They hadn't parted in the friendliest of terms after their break-up but she had been pleasant and helpful when he had needed to enter the Ravenclaw dorms. He'd even recognized her presence with a quick nod after the dark lord had fallen by his hand in what he thought would be their final interaction. That she would want to work with him years later left him feeling winded- and more than a little weary.

"I was just making sure, Miss. It's just surprising." Bloody hell, had he really just allowed those words to escape his mouth? He hesistated before quickly trying to explain himself. "I mean, you don't seem like the sort to tangle with dark wizards."

"Because I'm a woman?" The challenge note in her vice made him hesitate. Talk about shoving my entire foot in my mouth. The last thing on his mind was to deny her the position because of her sex, even if the aforementioned was the cause of his discomfort. He wasn't going to take the bait, though. He truly wanted to get to his home in one piece, thank you very much. He opened his mouth to assure her but she interrupted him. "I fought in the last war. I took on death eaters and creatures that would make grown men wet their beds. I assure you that I am more than capable of doing this job."

"Indeed." The abrupt comment was stupid. He was going to lead the Aurors someday and he was being stupid. Why was he suddenly acting like the village idiot? He gave her a feeble smile in an attempt to pacify her, hoping that the amused look she had matched what she really felt and was not a façade to hide the fact that he had offended her with his idiotic comments. "We must've stumbled into each other some point, then."

"I did more than that." The comment might've sounded innocent enough to everyone beyond the doorway, but his heart hitched in his throat as she lowered her now heavy-lidded gaze down to his mouth in a blatant display of sensual confidence. It only lasted half a second- just enough for his lungs to sieze in fear she'd say something- before her lips quirked at the ends. "I fought alongside you. I even played against you during quidditch season. I was Ravenclaw's seeker during my time at Hogwarts."

"Now that you mention it, I do remember playing against you during my third year." And being absolutely smitten with you from the moment you smiled at me from across the pitch and for the two years that followed. "You know, you look so different from what I remember."

"I'm not the only one." The surprising warmth in her voice made him momentarily pause his scribbling to drag his gaze up so he could meet hers. "I suppose it's to be expected. It's been more than a decade since that game."

"Well, he's not the only one who expected something else, you know." Harry sucked in a sharp breath as Torquil McLeod's dusty blonde head suddenly popped by the doorway. While he often acted as his right hand man during field work thanks to his height and wide build, Tor's mouth had knack for giving away the fact that he was the youngest member of the department. What was worse, he seemed to have a problem with keeping his often offensive thoughts from escaping said mouth. "I told the squadron you'd probably be an old Chinese man with a bad accent."

He was going to kill the dumb bastard. He was going to pull out his wand, aim it directly at Torquil's empty head and just blow the boy to smithereens right in front of everyone in the office before calmly walking to Kingsley's office-blatant arousal displayed against his pants for everyone in the damn building to see- and turning himself in. Since he was going to get an tongue lashing by the Minister himself after she took off to file a complaint against the idiot anyways, he might as well exact his revenge before the inevitable confrontation that would no doubt await him. He just hoped that he had somehow maintained his composure and that the horror he felt at the boy's words wasn't prominently displayed in his face for her to see at the very least.

And then she laughed.

She actually laughed at the offensive beetle dung that Torquil had tried to pass as a joke- and the sound was as smooth and melodic as water running down polished stones. It clicked in his head that he had never actually heard her laugh while they had been together, not really. She had giggled but the sound had never really been as bright or carefree, and the smile on her face never really reached her sorrow-glazed eyes. But she was laughing now, and he was somewhat disappointed that he had never been able to see her face light up and her eyes crinkle at the corners like when she offered his coworker a smile so dazzlingly bright it was almost blinding in its splendor. Harry suddenly felt a sharp pang of something that dangerously bordered on jealousy as she scrunched her nose playfully and dabbed at her eyes with the sleeves of her coat before turning to the stupid oaf standing at the office door.

"I should've know one of Boyd's boys would be here. It's hard to go anywhere without bumping into your lot." Torquil looked like Christmas had come early for him that year, the dammed fool, as he walked over to her and offered a shaky large hand. She placed her slender fingers in it, and the pang streaked through him like a bolt of lightning again. Ridiculous, really. Why he should feel jealous of a handshake was beyond him. "And are you disappointed to find otherwise, you northern bastard?"

"No, I don't think any of us are." He held her hand for a little too long, and it was rather annoying how they were grinning at each other like they had known one another for as long as they had existed, so Harry cleared his throat and Torquil directed his stupid grin at him. "She's just what this office needs, Harry. The office feels like a sausage convention. We'd be damned fools to let go of a woman of her talents, and I don't think anyone has accused you of ever being a damned fool, eh?"

Well, he was feeling like a damned fool right now.

"Some of these you'll have to fill yourself, but..." The brisk tone of his voice as he shuffled through the parchments nearly wiped the smile from Tor's face, which filled Harry with a smug sense of victory at the thought of having put someone who was entirely too friendly with someone who'd once been close to him in his place. "Do you have any references?"

"I wouldn't be in Ravenclaw if I faced my challenges unprepared, now would I?" He had been too busy staring at...other things to notice she had been holding a folder under her arm during the time she'd been in his office. He watched as she went through a couple of papers inside it before plucking the ones she needed and walking over to his desk, handling it over with a flourish. "I think reckless behavior is more of a Gryffindor thing, correct?"

"Ah..." The tips of their fingers brushed as he reached out for the papers, and he held his breath as her lips twitched in what looked like a flash of discomfort before she offered him another smile and stepped back. Be smooth. Confident. Say something funny. A million witty things ran through his mind as he tried to shake off the tremors that that single, innocent touch had provoked- and the throbbing and swelling that was going on behind the desk again. "Yes…well, let me check these."

"Take your time." She looked at him again in that enticing way only she could give to him, and he stared, taken back by the warm affection in her eyes. It almost sounded like she was talking to a close friend or loved one, not to the pathetic excuse of a boyfriend he had once been. Abashed, confused and once again aroused, he bit his tongue and scanned the page. "I don't have any plans for today."

"Didn't you play for the Tornadoes?" Of course. Tor couldn't keep his mouth shut for extended periods of time- more so when the topic of the conversation was Quidditch. The man was so enamored of the game he could probably compete for the title of rabid fan alongside his best friend, but his current obsession was reserved for the Tutshill Tornadoes. "Like, five years ago?"

"You could say that. It wouldn't have been official for a couple of years, but I was training with them." She suddenly sounded distant and thoughtful. He didn't dare glance up from the paperwork her was filling to decipher her expression for fear that his interest would suddenly give her some idea of how he was currently reacting to her. "I was hoping I would replace their seeker when he retired."

"Yeah, I thought that was you in their training pitch during Christmas break last year." Thomas said smugly, his voice laced with that childish enthusiasm it always held when it came to discussing Quidditch. "I thought they were in talks about naming you Rookie of the Year and everything. Why'd you quit?"

"It's…personal." Harry nodded in approval at her this-conversation-is-pretty-much-over tone of voice and finally aimed a glare at Torquil to shut him up. He hadn't even read the damned page she'd handed him properly, too busy trailing their conversation as he filled out the parts of the document with information he already knew. Lavishing all his energy on a reference sheet seemed like such a waste of good time when she was standing there- the epitome of an interesting female. "…is everything okay, Mr. Potter?"

Only when her eyes touched his face did he realize she'd switched back to him and was expecting some form of reply. "Oh? Err, yes. Fine, fine." Then came the question he'd asked many times but had been dreading to ask her. It was standard. The ministry liked to know about their people and their family life. Why did the words feel so heavy on his tongue this time? He steeled himself and offered her an airy smile. "Are you married, Miss Chang?"

"Oh, Heavens, no!" The laugh that accompanied the suggestion was sort of...offensive. There was nothing wrong with being married in your early twenties. Lots of people from their age group had married shortly after graduation. Of course, having near-death experiences might affect one's decision making when it came to important things like starting a family or settling down, but he loved his wife and he had never regretted marrying her almost immediately after she'd graduated. Almost as if she could read his thoughts, a quirky grin was suddenly displayed on her face. "Nothing wrong with being married. I'm not, though."

"Do you have any children?"

"Not that I know of." When his face blanked, she released something between a sigh and an airy laugh and made a second attempt at answering his question. "No, Mr. Potter, I've not mothered any children- bastard or legitimate."

With a hot flush that made his ears burn and his cheeks sting red, Harry offered her a sheepish smile."Where do you currently live, Miss Chang?"

"Seems like an odd thing to ask." She smiled at him slowly, the same smile reminiscent of the one his wife revealed for him after the sultry aftermath of their lovemaking. The front of his pants suddenly felt tighter than any garment should ever have felt on a man. "Are you interviewing me or are you seizing me up for a date?"

And there it was again. The blatant hint of sensuality that had first triggered a reaction in him even when she'd just given him a smile- with just the vaguest promise of seduction laced in those eyes of hers. He didn't think he had met any woman who possessed that kind of sensuality. He couldn't explain just why it was like that when she did it, but she was making him feel like a prized stallion in a stud farm and she wasn't even trying to be anything other than playful with him. The natural warmth she exuded had always called out to him, her loyal nature had captured his attention back in their school days and the layer of vulnerability behind her tough façade had compelled him to act as her protector. But that was in the past. Whatever he'd dreamt of doing with her had gone to waste the moment they had found themselves emotionally overcharged by everything going on in the world around them. He had found his happiness in his wife- he would never in his life doubt that. It was just...he was always working and Gin was always busy and he was so alone at times...to see Cho here after so many years and be reminded of everything that they had shared and what could've been, served like a match to light his until-then dormant libido. The desire he felt was tainted with guilt and he was well aware of the fact that it was wrong and alarmed by how fiercely he felt it- but he would never act on such base instincts. It was just lust. It was normal to find other people attractive, so what? He still preferred his wife. This was just a temporary setback.

Like her job here, hopefully.

"Ah…sorry, just trying to fill the blanks here." He was grateful that his office was separated from the rest of the squad and that Torquil was too blinded by his obsession with the Tornadoes and the little crush he thought wasn't as obvious as the sun was bright to see just how badly shaken he was by the whole thing. "I think you're a great fit for the job. I guess it's up to Mr. Sturm now."

"Pick a desk, sit down and shut up." The growl from the other side of the doorway was all they would ever get as a reply. With the shadow of a grimace on his face, Harry picked up his quill once more and shakily signed off on the document before giving her another half-hearted smile she was only to happy to return.

"Don't worry," Tor suddenly chirped, trying his best to seem cheerful as he looked from Cho to him with his face lit up like a candle. "The inhuman treatment means he likes you already! Welcome to the team, Cho!"

What the bloody hell had he just done?

A/N: Ta-da! The first chapter has been completely rewritten in our new writing style. It's a touch more detailed than before- I'm still working to find a balance between too much, too little and being repetitive when I linger on something for an extended period of time, but it's on its way to becoming what I always wanted it to be. If you want to ask me or suggest something, feel free to message me anytime and I will fix whatever questions you have right up! Oh, and do leave a review with how it was for you. :]