Chapter 1

Complexity #1: Once a publicity spectacle, always a publicity spectacle.

Somehow, a handful of reporters have managed to infiltrate the Ministry lobby. This discovery is made abundantly clear to me the moment I step out of the Floo, because I'm almost immediately assaulted with a barrage of questions and demands.

"Abby, show us that rock!"

"Witch Weekly readers are positively dying to know proposal details!"

"Is it true that James only proposed because he knocked you up?"

I swear to Merlin, if I had a Galleon for every time a reporter accused me of being pregnant, I'd never have to lay a finger on my trust fund.

I can't pretend there's not at least some part of me that secretly enjoys this random attention from reporters, even if it is only because I'm dating – or, I guess at this point, engaged to – the eldest son of the Saviour of the Wizarding World.

But I've also learned over the years that basically anything I say to them will somehow be irreparably twisted into something scandalous or vile.

So instead of opening my mouth, I purposefully tuck a lock of hair behind my ear with my left hand as I walk, giving the reporters a very clear view of the diamond adorning my ring finger. That image should hold them over for a while – hopefully.

But I'll get lunch delivered to the office today for good measure.

I step onto the lift, and luckily, it's all older men in dress robes – none of whom have even the slightest interest in engagement details. Which is a relief, because I'm sure that between the office today and dinner at the Burrow tonight, I'll be recounting the story with alarming frequency.

It's a good story, to be fair. James hadn't been joking about doing something elaborate.

I spend the rest of the lift ride and walk to the office in a bit of a daydream – thinking about a weekend spent walking along the Seine and forcing James to try escargot is much more appealing than listening to the guy next to me ramble on about the ink in his office not being completely black.

And predictably, I only just make it to my desk before Aaliyah hits me with her first question.

Aayliyah Johnson is the only other recent investigative department hire, and as a result, she's got the desk directly across from mine. And as is the way things go, she's also my closest work friend.

"So… the engagement article in the Prophet. Real or fake?"

I drop my purse on the ground. "Real," I confirm.

As evidence, I hold out my hand in her direction, wiggling my fingers a little.

Aaliyah's dark brown eyes widen as she looks at the ring. "Holymother of Merlin," she says. "Potter did good."

"I did what now?" Al looks up from the papers he's been reading, clearly having caught mention of his surname.

"Not you, Al," Aaliyah replies, rolling her eyes. "I'm referring to the Potter responsible for this stunner of an engagement ring."

"Oh yeah," Al says, grinning. "For someone who claims to have no understanding of women's fashion, James is uncannily good at picking out rings. I think he's basically picked out every ring in our family at this point - and I can't speak for Victoire, but Cecile adores hers."

I look down at the ring – an oval diamond encircled with a halo of smaller stones – and I can't help but smile at it, even though I've basically spent most of the weekend admiring it.

And it matches perfectly with the ring on the finger next to it: the tiara-shaped one that James gave me in seventh year.

"So I need to know." Aaliyah announces. "How'd he ask? Wasn't his family supposed to be taking the both of you on some surprise trip this weekend?"

And here we go with retelling number one.

"Yeah, that wasn't true, apparently," I reply, shooting a significant glance at Al, who'd lied to me all of last week about that part. "Turns out it was just him taking me on the surprise trip… and it was to Paris."

I'm doing my best to act casual about it, but it's hard to fight off the giddiness when Aaliyah squeals loudly, alerting at least half the office to her presence. The door to Hyslop's office slams shut of its own accord – he's apparently not in the mood to deal with noisy junior Aurors this morning.

"He took you to Paris? How romantic!"

I laugh at that. "James doesn't do anything halfway. He's either a complete idiot or the most romantic bloke on the planet – with absolutely no in between."

Aaliyah comes over and sits on my desk; she's apparently giving up on any sort of semblance that we're actually working. "So what – he proposed in front of the Eiffel Tower or something?"

"Nah," I answer, sitting down in my chair. "And I probably would've killed him if he'd tried to propose in front of a massive crowd of people running around with their Muggle cell phones attached to giant plastic poles."

"Plastic… poles?" Aaliyah crinkles her eyebrows at that. "I will never understand Muggle technology. But go on."

I shrug. "We just did a lot of the basic Muggle tourist-y stuff all day Saturday, and after dinner, we were walking through the Luxembourg Gardens and he stopped in front of this gorgeous fountain and just… got down on one knee."

I leave out the actual speech that accompanied James' proposal, which was equal parts soppy, hilarious, and entirely inappropriate. It's one of those things that feels really personal, and I'd rather keep those little details close to my heart.

"And then I said yes, and he'd somehow collaborated with Freddy to set up all sorts of fireworks that were triggered by my voice, so it ended up being some huge thing, even though no one else was around to see it."

"I mean, that's about what you expected, wasn't it?" she says, briefly pausing to wave at what I assume is one of the senior Aurors walking into the office. "Didn't he promise you something super dramatic?"

I nod. "And it's safe to say he delivered."

"Well it was fucking adorable," she confirms. "Not to mention it's setting unrealistic proposal expectations for all us normal people out here."

I swat her good-naturedly. "Oi, James and I are normal. He's just occasionally really overdramatic."

Aaliyah gives me a skeptical look. "Remind me, how'd you two get together again? Because last I checked, some massive tumultuous chain of events that involved you two going from hating each other to being head-over-heels in love in the span of a year doesn't sound normal to me."

"Not to mention, you two are one of the magical media's favorite couples to write about," Al chimes in, unhelpfully. "You guys got a whole half page article in today's Prophet – Cecile and I's engagement only got a few paragraphs."

They… make valid points. There's a decent bit of James and I's relationship that is about as far from normal as one can get.

"Ooh, sounds like someone's jealous," I taunt him.

Al laughs. "Oh no, not at all. They've literally come up with the weirdest shit about you two – I'm rather happy to not have to deal with that."

"You get better at ignoring it as time goes on," I answer.

Aaliyah changes the subject. "So, since you're officially getting married to a Potter, do you think you can use your power as the boss' future daughter-in-law to get me out of all of this paperwork?"

She shoots a look of annoyance at the various pieces of parchment scattered all over her desk.

"Trust me, if that worked, do you really think I'd be here doing paperwork with you?" Al jokes, gesturing to the stack of files on his desk for emphasis.

"True," I reply, looking at Aaliyah. "Biological sons would probably get preferential treatment over daughter-in-laws anyways, so I'm going to go with 'no.' "

Another voice snaps us out of our conversation. "Potter! Winchester! Johnson! There's a meeting starting in 2 minutes!"

"Shit," Aaliyah mutters. "Forgot about that one."

The remainder of the workday passes by relatively uneventfully.

There haven't been a ton of interesting cases to pop up lately, so I spend most of the day working on the 'independent project' I've been assigned – an essentially impossible task of figuring out a way to identify the caster of a Killing Curse without actually having the wand it was cast with.

As a result, I'm more than ready to leave the office by the time 5 p.m. rolls around.

There aren't any reporters hanging around in the lobby this time; either they were satisfied by the confirmation of the engagement rumours, or the Ministry security actually figured out how to get them out.

I get home to an empty flat – which is a bit surprising, because James is almost always home earlier than me.

I swap out my more formal work clothes for something a bit more fitting of a family dinner – a red skirt and black and white striped top. I've only just changed when I hear the front door click open.

"You're home early." I look up from pulling on a pair of black booties to see James standing in the doorway.

"I only just got home a few minutes ago," I answer, walking over to him and kissing him on the cheek as a greeting. "I just figured we probably shouldn't be late to our own engagement dinner."

"Yeah," he smirks. "I don't think that one would go over well with Nana Molly."

"So change out of that suit and we can go," I reply, walking around him and out of the bedroom, playfully tugging on his jacket collar as I go.

When I walk down the stairs and into the living area, I notice a few file folders laying on the kitchen table; I assume they're somehow related to James' work.

He's still got a job in Magical Law, although at this point I really think he's just doing it for the sake of having a job – it's not something he loves, but he's got absolutely no idea where he'd go if he left.

It's an uncharacteristically cautious decision for him, but I suppose the rules are changed when the stakes are having a steady income.

James comes bounding down the stairs a few minutes later, dressed in jeans and a dark green shirt, with a surprising amount of energy for someone who's been working for the past eight hours.

"Ready to endure a million wedding planning questions?"

"I should hope no one's already asking about the wedding when we only got engaged two days ago," I answer, although the more logical part of me knows that's not true.

"Please," James scoffs. "You know my family. They've probably been planning quietly for months now, and they're all going to start making 'suggestions' tonight."

I shrug. "We'll make it through somehow."

"Just… if anyone suggests the same cake maker as Al's wedding, turn them down. Carrot cake at a wedding is a disgrace," James replies, looking incredibly solemn.

I get the feeling the cake is the only part of the wedding that he has any opinions about.

"Noted," I say, laughing.

"Hey, guess what?"

I look up at James, whose hazel eyes are twinkling as he takes a step towards me. "What?"

He grins. "We're getting married."

And he's so adorably cheeky about it that I suddenly really want to kiss him.

"Damn right we are," I say, sliding my fingers into the belt loops of his jeans and tugging him towards me so that his body is flush against mine.

James doesn't need to be asked twice – almost instantaneously, he's dipped his head down to bring his lips to my own, and we're back to that same old song and dance that we do so well.

I'm positive that there's some sort of detail that I'm missing right now – that there's something that's supposed to be happening before we leave for the Burrow – but I can't seem to remember it now, while my body and mind are both so otherwise occupied.

Instead, I'm pulling him closer as I accidentally back myself into the kitchen table. James responds by grabbing one of my legs and hooking it around his hip, and somehow this turns into me lying on my back on the kitchen table with James above me, all heavy breathing and wandering hands.

His hand is sliding up my skirt and toying with the waistband of my knickers and – honestly, how big of a deal would being late to our own engagement dinner be, really? Everyone'll get over it. The idea of having sex on our kitchen table seems far, far more appealing at the moment.

The door opens. "Oi, are you two about ready to – oh, shit."

That. That was the detail I was missing.

A/N: Hello, and welcome to Complex! This is the sequel to Complicated that starts about 3 years after the last story ended – and it's about to be a wild ride, so buckle up, folks. I'm anticipating it'll end up being somewhere around 35 chapters. Expect updates every other Saturday!

Sneak peek of chapter 2…

"Awfully bold of you to assume this is the only time we've gotten up to things on this table," James says.

Freddy's eyes go wide. "What the fu - "

"Relax, Freddy," I interrupt, rolling my eyes and hopping down off the table. "We do clean things, you know. We're not animals."

He smirks at me. "Are you sure? Because the two of you were going at it like rabbits just then."