He now had a history of being a moderate student - mainly attributed to his constant moving as a child, along with his family - established which schools he'd gone to, a brief medical history in which he'd managed to cram all of his actual ailments and injuries, not to mention his allergies, and eyeglass prescription. Sabine had advised that he could consider eye surgery, or the magical equivalent, if he wanted to lose the glasses. He considered it and filed it away for future reference.
"That's it, I think," Sabine announced as she laid down her pen. Strewn about her in what looked like utter chaos to Harry, but was somehow completely discernible to her, were forty pages filled with notes on the history they'd established so far.
"Good," Harry muttered. "I think I'm starting to confuse myself."
"Well, that should be about all we need." Sabine rose and began clearing the empty teacups.
"Good, it's getting late." Harry glanced out the window, and then realized that it was always dark in Knockturn Alley. "I should get going. When do you think you'll have the papers done?"
Sabine hummed in thought. "The Muggle papers, probably in two days. The wizarding papers, with exception of the apparition license, a week, maybe nine days. The license we'll probably have in two weeks, earliest." She smiled sheepishly. "Sorry, but like father said, those are really hard to forge, and they need to be actually registered with the Ministry. That takes time and work."
"All right." He could live with that. "So, uh, how do I pay?"
"You pay when you pick up the documents." Sabine giggled at his slightly embarrassed expression. "Don't worry about it too much."
"All right." Harry stood, straightening down his robes. "By the way, I'm curious… why do you and your father dress like Muggles?"
Sabine giggled and twirled around. "We both work in the Muggle world, too. And frankly, it's rather comfortable. You like?"
Harry stared for a moment, then shrugged and blushed. "It looks nice."
"Thank you."
"Well, I guess I'd better get going. Is it all right if I come back in a week?"
Sabine shook her head. "If you're completely without papers, you better come back the day after tomorrow. Just in case you'll need some form of ID."
"All right." Harry was about to turn to leave when she leaned forward and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. "It was nice to meet you, Harry Ashworth, or whoever you are," she smiled at him shyly. "And a pleasure doing business with you."
"Thanks, you, too," he said and quickly walked out before she could embarrass him anymore. A few seconds later, he stood outside the building, with the strange smell still coming from the back of the house, and started up the dark streets of Knockturn Alley.
"Time to get back to my room, I guess," he muttered as he set off.
....
It was three days later, on Christmas Eve that Harry returned to the dingy little building in a back corner of Knockturn Alley. He had those three days making half-hearted inquiries about job openings near Diagon Alley, but he had quickly found that without proper documentation, the only people that would hire him were those on the wrong side of the law. He wasn't prepared to get himself involved with that sort of thing, so he'd resigned himself to learning everything about the time period he was in. Sitting in the Leaky Cauldron and listening to the people chattering around him, picking up whatever newspapers he could find, and asking the occasional question-all without seeming suspiciously ignorant of current events had been a harder task that he would have thought possible.
Sabine had mentioned that she and her father worked in the Muggle world, so he had decided to come after what would be the end of the business day for most Muggles. When he stepped through the front door, he was pleased to find the young woman behind the counter of her father's business reading a newspaper. When she heard the door open, she jumped, looked over, and smiled brightly when she recognized him.
"Harry!" she greeted him cheerfully. "You're a day late!"
He shrugged. "I decided to give it an extra day, just in case."
"Well," she said, putting the newspaper away and standing up, "you'll be glad to know that we've gotten everything done a bit quicker than we thought. We've got a full set of Muggle and magical documentation, the whole package minus the apparition license. It's drawn up, but it still needs to be registered with the Ministry, so we hope it'll be done and active by as soon as next week."
"That's great," Harry replied with a smile. He was surprised that everything had come so easily; he had thought that black market transactions such as this would have involved a great deal more tension. Perhaps it was his inexperience combined with the inviting and charming personality of the forgers that put him at ease. Glancing at Sabine as she reached up to one of the shelves set on the back wall of the room, he figured that was probably it. They were nice enough, not at all what he had expected. He desperately tried to ignore it when he noticed the way her skirt rode up as she stretched to reach the top shelf, exposing her shapely legs.
He had barely managed to compose himself again, mentally berating himself for acting like a hormonal teenager, when she turned around and placed a thick envelope on the table. She noticed that he was slightly flushed, and giggled, batting her eyes at him flirtatiously. The giggling increased when he blushed more.
This is ridiculous, Harry thought to himself as he smiled back sheepishly. It's as if I'd never seen a pretty girl before. The irony was, he hadn't, at least not one that looked as good as Sabine did, and wasn't afraid to show it. Most wizards and witches wore loose, flowing robes that very effectively hid any trace of their figures underneath. The Muggle clothing Sabine seemed to enjoy wearing was the exact opposite, accentuating her petite form and hugging all the right curves. And try as he might, he wasn't that far off from being a teenager.
She correctly divined the thoughts going through his mind and placed a calming hand on his arm. "Don't worry about it," she said gently. "I get stared at a lot, it's no big deal."
"It's not that, I just…" Harry flustered and pulled his arm back. "Sorry, I'm not usually like this," he told her wryly.
"Oh!" she glanced down at herself. "I should've realized that you probably haven't seen this style of clothing before. It's a bit more provocative than robes, isn't it?"
Harry opened his mouth and was about to correct her when he realized that it would probably be best to say nothing. The less people knew about his true origins, the better, even if she was likely to never make the connection between his Muggle upbringing and his being from the future.
Oh, I've seen things like that before, he thought to himself. But damn, Aunt Petunia had never looked that good in a skirt and blouse. He chuckled to himself as he realized he was acting childish, but then again, he'd never actually had the opportunity to, before. He'd never been able to do all the things people his age did - go out at night, flirt with girls, have girls flirt with him, go dancing with his girlfriend… he'd missed out on all of that because of the war. He felt a brief sense of sadness at that, but pushed it back down, along with his physical attraction to the beautiful daughter of the master forger. Now was neither the time nor the place for this.
"It's fine," he finally said with a small shrug. "You're right, it's a bit unusual… but it looks good on you."
....
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