Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Summary: It is common knowledge that wizards are fired when they are sent to the Centaur Liaison Office, but common knowledge isn't always right, as Ginny is about to find out.

(a/n: set five years after the war described in Deathly Hallows, not taking the epilogue into consideration.)

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Chapter One

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Liaison (n.): 1. communication and co-operation between people or groups. 2. a person who is a link or go-between. 3. a bond of union. 4. an illicit intimacy between a man and woman

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1815

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Grogan Stump, the first-appointed Minister for Magic (from 1811 to the present date), looked at the reports for the various Departments. The one that had caused the most trouble so far, the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, also had the worst report for some of their Divisions.

He had created three divisions of this Department, just to keep every creature, being, and has-been happy; the Beast Division, the Being Division, and the Spiritual Division. The Being and Spiritual Divisions were going along fine, but the Beast Division was having trouble, according to the report.

Sometimes, he almost wished that the Wizard's Council had remained in control, instead of the Ministry being created. But then, he had managed to fix the problem that the Council had made by trying to label varied creatures into sections. They were still labelled, but in a way that was easiest for everyone to comprehend. Of sorts...

Stump sighed, rubbed his temples, and looked to the Head of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.

"What is wrong with the centaurs now?" he asked wearily.

"Nothing, sir," the Head replied. "That is just it. We have not seen one centaur in the Centaur Liaison Office since it was created," he said.

"I doubt we will, either, if you will beg my pardon saying so," another voice contributed, not sounding very apologetic.

"What is it ... What is your name?" Stump asked, looking to the person who had spoken.

"Williams, sir. Just appointed Head Auror last week," he added to refresh the Minister's memory.

"Oh, yes. Of course. Well, go on, Williams," Stump said.

"Centaurs are proud beings, sir. They are not going to come to anyone for help, especially not us now that we tried to make them 'beings' along with ghouls and hags, and the like," Williams said.

Stump winced slightly, and nodded. The centaurs had not been happy about that, to say the least.

"The centaurs are not going to use the office we've provided them, so I suggest that we use it for something else," Williams finished.

"What do you have in mind?" Stump asked.

Williams grinned, and continued to outline his plan for the office.

...

2002

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"Ginny, you've got a plane," her assistant called from outside of the office.

"I'll deal with it later!" Ginny called back, rolling her eyes.

She was far too busy to deal with mundane planes filled with mundane problems from mundane people!

"It's a green plane," her assistant said, looking into the office with wide eyes.

Ginny stopped moving. Her hand, poised above the parchment, went numb in surprise. The quill dropped from her unfeeling fingers, ink spots flying onto the no-longer-important document.

As she stood up and went to retrieve the green plane - oh, why did it have to be a green one? - Ginny wondered what she'd done to deserve this. She'd finished Hogwarts after the war, receiving fairly high marks considering the little she had actually learned from the mostly incompetent Professors. Ginny had been offered a job in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, which she happily accepted, eager to put her spells and knowledge of animals to good use. Now, two years later, she was the Assistant to the Head of the Department, which basically meant that she'd gone from doing filing to practically running the office.

Of course, everyone knew that the Heads of Ministry Offices didn't actually do any work. They just went around, trying to look important, getting everyone else to do the work they were meant to do, and then taking credit for it.

Since she'd risen so fast, Ginny's name was getting fairly well-known in the Ministry. Was the green plane because she was getting attention? No, not even the Ministry could give someone a green plane for being well-known! Could they?

Ginny looked at the green plane suspended in the air. She wondered if the plane knew what it represented. She wondered if the green plane knew that it was ominous, and had the ability to scare hundreds of Ministry employees into submission at its mere mention. She finally wondered if the green plane liked having such power, before plucking it out of the air, and returning to her office, still feeling numb.

She sat down, trying to still her shaking hands. A few deep breaths later, Ginny took another four to ten deep breaths and undid the charm on the green plane. The plane unfolded itself, straightened out the creases and propped itself up so it could be read. Ginny tried not to think about how smug the plane looked, even as she read the words she had been dreading.

You are being transferred to the Centaur Liaison Office. Please bring your belongings.

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Soon after the Centaur Liaison Office was created, it was noticed that most of the people who were sent there were fired. As centaurs never step foot (or hoof) into the Ministry, it was quite easy to see why. So, being 'sent to the Centaur Liaison Office' soon became jargon for 'getting fired' within the Department for the Regulations and Control of Magical Creatures.

Green planes were sent for people who were being 'transferred' to the Centaur Liaison Office. Whenever a Ministry officer saw one, they usually ducked or tried to hide, in case it was sent for them. These actions, of course, never worked, and soon after receiving the green plane, the witch or wizard in question could be seen heading towards the 'Cloffice', as it's not-quite-affectionately-known, looking depressed.

Now, Ginny was among one of those people. Other workers looked surprised, shocked even, that she was being sent there. Some looked sympathetic, while one or two looked happy at the prospect of getting her job.

Well, they were welcome to it, the little bastards, Ginny thought viciously. Let them see the Department fall to shit when they realised how much work she actually did. When they realised how much work she did, how much time out of the office she sacrificed to finish documents, the time she wasn't able to spend with Harry, the time she spent on her work, they would surely want her back. The Department wouldn't be able to function without her!

Her head held high, Ginny opened the Cloffice door and stepped in, determined to make them regret this decision. In the very least, she knew that there was still a spare firecracker in her bag, courtesy of George. She could use it, if only she had an excuse to go into her bag.

"Miss Weasley, please sit down," a voice said.

Ginny's eyes widened when she realised that she recognised the voice, and she turned to see Pansy Parkinson sitting at a desk. Two wizards were sitting on either side of her, but Ginny didn't recognise them. In fact, not one of these three had anything to do with the Ministry, as far as Ginny knew at least.

"Parkinson," Ginny replied coldly, sitting down on the single chair facing the witch and two wizards.

"You may be wondering why you have been called in here," Pansy said. "Or you are wondering why we are here, as we don't have anything to do with the Ministry, am I right?" she asked, a cross between a sneer and a smile on her face.

Ginny put barriers around her mind quickly, making sure not to show any annoyance on her face.

"And you have just blocked your mind from us. Interesting," Pansy said, a smile on her face now. "Do you do that with every acquaintance? Or only Slytherins?" she asked.

"I don't have to answer you, Parkinson. Now, tell me why I'm here," Ginny said, barely able to keep her lid on her temper.

Pansy just smirked, and looked to the document in front of her. Her features softened as she read something. "I was sorry to hear about Fred. The twins were always favourites of mine," she murmured.

Ginny clenched her teeth together. "Don't you dare talk about him, Parkinson! What are you reading?" she demanded.

"Your scroll. You see, you have been brought to the attention of the Cloffice, what with your recent rise up the Ministry ladder and all," Pansy said.

Ginny wasn't sure if she was mocking her or not, so she stayed silent.

"The Cloffice isn't what you think it is. It isn't what anyone thinks it is, except of course, for the people who work here," Pansy said.

"What the hell are you on about, Parkinson?" Ginny asked, completely confused.

Pansy smiled, and as she looked at Ginny, her face became serious. "You are about to be offered a job. It is a job in a world you cannot even begin to imagine; it's a world that you may not want to belong to," Pansy said, trailing off for a moment.

One of the wizards coughed slightly, bringing Pansy out of her stupor.

"If you accept the job, you are given two weeks off as a grace period, and to get all of the information you need about the job. If you do not accept, then a small Memory Charm is used, and you return to simply being the Assistant to the Head of the Department for Regulations and Control of Magical Creatures," Pansy said, making it sound like the most boring job in the world.

Ginny liked her job. But she was still intrigued about what this job had to offer. Even though she had a really good job, no matter how Parkinson made it sound...

"What is the job?" she finally asked, her curiosity beating her pride.

Pansy smirked now, and stood up. The two wizards stood up as well, and Ginny followed suit, going after them to a side door that she was certain didn't have a room beyond it. Her office view looked straight to the Cloffice, to this very wall in fact, and there were only bricks.

Maybe it was like the Room of Requirement? a small part of her brain thought.

Pansy opened the door to reveal a corridor. There were about five rooms were on either side of it, all with large doors that had glass panes in them. Looking into the rooms as they passed, Ginny was surprised on seeing the things that were happening in some of them.

It almost looked like a school was being run ... Except for that room where that woman was undressing. Her mind did a double take, and she shook her head. Ginny didn't want to stop, or even ask about it. Not yet, at least.

Pansy kept walking down the corridor, opening a door that didn't have any glass on it. All it had was Pansy's name and 'Cloffice Director' written above it.

The two wizards stood on either side of the door, and Ginny went past them and into the room. The door shut behind her, and Pansy indicated to a chair across from her position behind the desk.

"I'm sure you have a few questions after seeing some of that," Pansy said. "But first, I want you to tell me everything you saw as we walked past," she said, looking at Ginny.

Pansy made it sound like a dare, and Ginny never was able to resist dares.

"There were about ten classrooms. The first one on the left was geography, if the large map was any indication. First on the right was presumably a language one, as the students all seemed to be speaking at the same time. Second on the left had swords and wand training. I missed the second on the right. Third on the right seemed to be some sort of theatrical class. Third on the left was potions, that I could tell just from the smell," Ginny muttered with a slight grimace.

Pansy gave something close to a smile, and nodded for her to continue.

"The fourth on the left was Herbology, or something to do with plants," Ginny said, then hesitated. "The fourth room on the right had a woman undressing, so I don't know what that's about. I missed the last two rooms," she said.

Pansy nodded, then leaned forward to scrutinise Ginny.

"Now that you've seen all of that, what do you think this job is about?" Pansy asked, a unrecognisable gleam in her eye. "Or what do you think the Cloffice really is?"

"A school? I have no idea what the job is about," Ginny said shaking her head.

"Well, that's good. You shouldn't have any idea what it's about, because all of that you just saw is training to get into the job," Pansy said, smirking once more.

"So this is like a school then?" Ginny asked, frowning slightly.

"It is a training facility," Pansy corrected. "We train people in various areas, and once they decide to specialise in one up to three areas, they are given a job best suited for those areas," she said.

"All right. I'm confused. What kind of job would require someone to specialise in these types of things?" Ginny asked.

Pansy laughed softly. "You are just like he described you," she said, smiling.

Ginny frowned again. "He who?" she asked.

"You will find out in time. Come, I will show you exactly what sort of job requires these things," Pansy said.

She stood up and left the room through a side door, not even waiting to see if Ginny followed her. Once in the adjoining room, Pansy stopped and opened a wardrobe. A Pensieve was inside, glowing brightly.

"After you," Pansy said, smirking.

...

Grogran Stump left his office late. He had stayed back, yet again, to finish work.

His wife was going to kill him.

He Apparated to London, and started to walk down the street to his house. His wife wasn't fond of him simply Apparating home, as their Muggle neighbours were everyday busybodies who had to know everyone else's business, including why Grogan didn't seem to ever leave the house, but he was never at home.

Stump sighed to himself as his thoughts returned to work again. He had not been able to complete much work anyway. He was still thinking over Williams' idea for the Centaur Liaison Office, two weeks after it had been proposed. In some senses, it sounded far too incredible to even be plausible, yet in other ways it made complete and utter sense.

He was still deep in thought when he was surrounded. People dressed in black followed him silently, their presence only known to Ginny and Pansy.

Stump sighed once more, rubbing his temples.

"Got the time, mister?" someone asked, the sudden voice surprising him.

"Yes, I believe it is fifteen minutes to ten o'clock," Stump replied cheerfully, despite the stench and dirty look of the man who had approached him.

He had to be nice to Muggles. It was not through any fault of their own that they did not understand the meaning of magic ... or hygiene.

"You ent gonna check yer watch fer it?" the man asked, sounding surprised.

"Oh, yes. Of course," Stump said, feeling foolish.

He had bought a pocketwatch especially for this kind of thing, and then he had gone and forgotten it the moment he needed it!

"It is now ten minutes to ten o'clock. Good night," Grogan said, trying to move around the man and continue on his way.

The man grinned, showing missing teeth. The ones that were still in his mouth varied between yellow and black, as well as being in various stages of decay.

"Excuse me, sir. I would like to pass," Grogan said.

"Sir. 'Ear that, Smithy? 'E called you 'sir'. Yer a real proper gentleman, ent you then?" another man mocked.

The man laughed, pulling a dagger seemingly out of nowhere.

"W-what do you want from me?" Grogan asked, trying to back away and bumping into another man instead.

"Give us that pretty watch o' yours then," one said, jabbing at him with a finger.

"And yer money," another one said, hitting the other on the head.

"Yeah, and yer money," he quickly added, almost sheepishly.

Grogan did not have any Muggle money with him. He had left it at work, not thinking he would need it when he was going straight home. He could not hand wizarding money over to these men, nor could he get out his wand. He would risk exposing his entire kind. But he very much doubted that they would let him be until they had some sort of wealth from him either...

The man with the dagger came closer, much closer than Grogan would have liked.

"Well then? Where's yer money?" he asked, the blade almost shimmering in the moonlight.

Grogan did not know what to say. He could not tell the truth, obviously. But he had never been a very good liar, and they were sure to see through his lies.

He opened his mouth to attempt a lie, but apparently he had taken too long. The man with the dagger raised it high above his head and started to bring it down.

Then, the man's eyes widened, and he dropped to the ground. Grogan had not even noticed the other three fall.

Looking up, Grogan was surprised to see Williams there, his wand somewhat hidden in his robes.

"Sorry, sir. I could not just stand by and let them hurt you," he said, looking to the four men that lay unconscious around them.

"What are you doing here?" Grogan asked, frowning.

"I heard you were in trouble," Williams answered.

"How did you hear that exactly?" Grogan asked, his voice stern.

"I put a relatively minor spell on you so that I would be able to hear when you were in trouble or danger," Williams admitted.

"When did you put the spell on me? And how did I not notice?" Stump asked in surprise.

"The meeting a few weeks back, sir. When I told you my idea. I did a silent spell. You did not notice because the spell was designed to simply land on you, not hit you with a force," Williams said.

"Oh," Grogan said. "Where did you hear about this spell?" he asked curiously, continuing down to his house with Williams by his side.

"My wife made it, sir. My Lorraine is a very protective woman, and she has taken it in her head that you will need a lot of protecting, being the first Minister and all," Williams said. "I guess she was right," he murmured with a slight grin.

"Was the Central Liaison Office your wife's idea too?" Grogan asked.

"We both thought of it, sir," Williams replied.

Grogan nodded, stopping as he arrived at his gate. He glared and muttered when one of the neighbours peeked through their window down at him. "I think that after what happened tonight, the Office will be necessary. Not just for me, but for future Ministers as well. But I think it should stay under the guise of the Centaur Liaison Office. It will require too much explaining to put it elsewhere, and if it is meant to be a secret, then this can be the perfect cover," Grogan said.

"Of course, sir."

"I will talk of your requirements in the morning, Williams."

"Yes, sir. Have a good night, sir," Williams replied.

"Thank you," Grogan said, turning to his house. "Oh, and Williams?" he said, turning back. "You have a very intelligent wife."

Williams grinned. "I know, sir. She won't let me forget it," he said with a chuckle.

Grogan smiled slightly, then went into his house. Williams waited until Grogan was inside the house before he continued along his way, Apparating in a side alley.

...

They were pulled out of the Pensieve as the picture faded. Ginny was silent for a moment, Pansy watching her.

"So the job is to protect the Minister?" Ginny asked.

Pansy nodded, shutting the wardrobe door and heading back into her office.

"Well, why didn't you just say that?" Ginny muttered, following Pansy.

"Because, sooner or later, we always end up in the Pensieve in order to explain how it began. This way, you learn all about it before you ask the questions. Now, do you have any questions?" Pansy asked, a slight grin on her face.

"How many people are in the Cloffice? I mean, do you really need as many as you have just to protect one person?"

"I should have been more specific, my apologies. One of the jobs is to protect the Minister. As the years have changed, so has the Cloffice. We now protect the entire of the Ministry, as well as the wizarding population in England. As the largest Cloffice in the world, we are responsible for a lot of people," Pansy said. "We have over forty people in our employment, all of them in varying fields of expertise, but all of them with the same objective to protect our way of life."

"What are the varying fields of expertise?" Ginny asked curiously.

She had no idea how the training centre (school) could protect the wizarding population with geography and languages. Or a woman undressing.

"You will learn more about it later. If you accept, that is. If not, well ... I already told you what happens. You lose two hours from your life, believe it was just paperwork, and maybe have the occasional nightmare about green paper planes. Which may or may not already be occurring," Pansy said with a smirk.

Ginny just raised an eyebrow at Pansy, not wanting to admit that it was the truth.

"Now, are you interested in the training?" Pansy asked.

"What will everyone else think if I accept? Will they just think that I've been transferred?" Ginny asked.

"They will all believe that you have been fired from your job," Pansy replied, seeming surprised at her question. "Everyone knows about the Cloffice, and what they think it means to be sent here."

"I know that, but if I still come to the Ministry everyday for this job, they will want to know why," Ginny replied. "That and my mother would most likely be on the doorstep every day for weeks demanding the Ministry give me my job back," she muttered, shaking her head.

By now the entire Ministry would know that Ginevra "Ginny" Weasley, Assistant to the Head of the Department for Regulations and Control of Magical Creatures, had been sent to the Centaur Liaison Office. And if the entire of the Ministry did know, then her father would too, and her mother would be at the Ministry in a matter of minutes.

"This is not the only entrance to the Cloffice," Pansy said, sounding amused. "If you accept the training, then both Floo and Portkey transports are given to you."

"All right," Ginny murmured, thinking of the 'job'.

She still had no idea what the job actually entailed, and the 'training' was a mystery, no matter what she had seen in those rooms. But Ginny was intrigued as to what the Cloffice did to protect the wizarding population that the Ministry wasn't already doing. With Harry as an Auror, the Ministry had managed to apprehend and put over twenty Death Eaters to trial.

"I accept," Ginny said firmly.

In a small part of her brain, she fervently hoped that she wouldn't regret this decision.

"Excellent. Please read and sign this contract, then you can go home. We will ensure that appropriate job interviews are sent to you at the Burrow, so that you have an excuse to be out as long as you will be," Pansy said.

It sounded like she had done this before, Ginny thought, and said as much.

"I have," Pansy replied with a smirk.

There was a knock at the door and one of the wizard-guards looked into the office.

"Madam Director? Miss Weasley's mother is outside the Cloffice. She wants to see you," the wizard-guard said.

"Very well. One moment," Pansy said with a nod.

The wizard-guard looked relieved, and shut the door as he returned to his imposing position in front of Pansy's door.

"I'll deal with her," Ginny said, reading the last of the contract.

She signed it, then headed out of the office before Pansy could say a word. Pansy flicked her wand, and the contract filed itself in a drawer. She followed after Ginny, intrigued as to what she would do.

"I'd like to apologise about the office in advance. I hope you have insurance," Ginny muttered, pulling something out of her bag.

Pansy's eyes widened ever-so-slightly as she realised that it was a firecracker. Then her face settled in to a smirk, and she stepped back. "We have insurance," she replied.

"I WANT TO TALK WITH MY DAUGHTER! AND THE MINISTER! AND WHOEVER ELSE DID THIS TO MY DAUGHTER!" Molly's voice rang out through the Ministry, and Ginny was sure that even the Aurors were hiding under their desks.

She muttered to herself about her mother's behaviour, then lit the firecracker.

"Good luck. See you next week," Pansy said, then returned through to the proper Cloffice without a second look back.

Ginny grinned, and let go of the firecracker. She threw in a few spells and hexes, just to make it even worse, then headed out of the Centaur Liaison Office to face her mother.

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(a/n: Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed the chapter.)

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