A/N: I wrote this story about 3 years and then got bored with it heh. But I recently read it again, and decided to revamp it. With the revisions I feel better about it.
I hope you'll like it! Please leave a review if you do like it...or don't (^.^)
Harry Potter was trying with great difficulty to concentrate on the passage he was reading. Repeatedly his eyes scanned over the same sentence only to have it not quite sink in. It had been like this for the past thirty minutes. No, it must have been an hour, he thought as he tossed the book angrily aside for the third time that morning. There was no point. Harry could not concentrate. Yet only a few moments after coming up with that half-assed excuse, he guiltily picked up the book, opened it to the page he was supposed to read, adjusted the glasses on his face and squinted at the text.
"Soon, there was to be a great battle between…"
Oi, it was not going to work. And it was really unsettling because it was his best friend Hermione Granger who wrote the book.
It was an international bestseller among the wizarding world, though Harry was not surprised. The book outlined the battle fought seven years ago with detail and of course Harry and Ron's enthusiastic permission. The only trouble was reading it. It was just too difficult being forced to remember all that he went through, all of those who sacrificed their lives…Still, Hermione was waiting for his review, so Harry once again focused on the words.
Soon after, his mind drifted once again as he thought of how his best friends would be soon welcoming their first child. Harry smiled at the thought, remembering how quickly they had gotten married (with Harry being the best man of course) as Hermione was still finishing her last year in Hogwarts.
"Did you read the dedication?" Hermione's voice asked accusingly over the phone a few weeks earlier. Harry had just received the book by owl, though he was somewhat excited about the prospect of Hermione writing a book (as everything else academically, Hermione was also an excellent writer) he was now dreading what was on the pages in the thick hardcover.
"I'm sure if you had read the dedication you would have called or something!" Hermione accused again. Truthfully, Harry had not cracked open the cover.
"Oh...I..." Harry stammered. Quickly, he flipped the book to the front page.
To the one we owe our lives, Harry Potter, our hero, my best friend and soon to be uncle.
"Uncle?" Harry asked with a slight frown. "What do you mean 'uncle'?"
Harry heard some sort of scuffling over the phone and Hermione arguing with someone else in the room.
"Give me the phelly…HARRY!" Ron shouted, still not mastering the complicated technology of the telephone. "HARRY GUESS WHAT?!"
"Ron…you don't have to scream!" Harry said trying to hold back a laugh.
"WHAT?! ANYWAY, HARRY, GUESS WHAT? I'M HAVING A BABY!"
Harry then distinctly heard Hermione mutter, "It's just like you to take all the credit Ron."
"Hermione please, I'm on the phellytone. HARRY? YOU STILL THERE? YEAH, I'M HAVING A BABY! CAN YOU BELIEVE IT…A LITTLE RON OR RONELLE…?"
Harry smiled and shook his head slightly, as he remembered listening to Hermione struggle to pry the telephone out of Ron's hand and continue what she was saying earlier.
"So? What do you think of the dedication?"
"Hermione…I'm…speechless. Thank you and congratulations. It's brilliant."
"You'll be his or her godfather too, won't you Harry?"
Before Harry could reply with a fervent 'yes', Hermione interrupted; "How far along are you in the book?"
Unfortunately, Harry had barely read the first page even though he had told Hermione that he was at least fifty pages in, then one hundred, and then one hundred and fifty, and that it was absolutely amazing.
Harry looked around that small, cramped apartment he had occupied for a bit over a year. His eyes swept over the clothing, pieces of parchment, and newspaper clippings that littered the surfaces, and sighed. He should really clean the place, but just could not find the opportunity. The Ministry alone was taking up so much of his time…
Harry stood and the book fell from his lap, clattering to the floor. He made his way to the kitchen, trying to find a trace of any leftovers Hermione had prepared for him days ago. He suddenly wishing he had learned how to cook, especially after finding random, rotting, unidentifiable foods in the refrigerator.
Glancing at his wristwatch, Harry swore under his breath. He was going to be late. Picking up his wand, his cloak, as well as an arm full of parchment, Harry left the apartment, apparating from the dingy lobby to outside of the Ministry. Then, going through the motions that have become so routine, he made his way to the reception area of the Ministry, greeted by the stout secretary behind a large, golden desk.
"Good morning Mr. Potter!" She said cheerily.
"Morning Ethel," Harry said with a slight smile and a nod on his way to the elevator. Harry was so intent on getting to his desk on time, he barely noticed a woman clearing her throat softly yet repeatedly beside him. He turned his head slightly receiving a full shock when a pair of familiar warm brown eyes greeted his.
"Hey Harry…" Ginny said awkwardly.
"Hello, Ginny." Harry muttered more curtly than he intended, as they both stepped into the elevator.
He had scarcely seen her since they broke up the previous month, though every time he had; it was another stab in the stomach. Especially when seeing her as beautiful as she always was, with not a trace of stress, sadness or anger on her face. Ginny ran her hands nervously through her shiny red hair, then over her light green blouse and smiled at Harry.
"How have you been? You look…good."
Harry shrugged, wondering why it was taking such an excruciating long time to reach his floor. He knew he looked like shit. He had not really slept much during the last week, and had gotten even less sleep last night. It really did not have much to do with Ginny; it was probably something about Hermione breathing down his neck to finish the book that kept him awake every night.
"I'm just going up to see Ron…"
Great, so they were getting off on the same floor. Fucking fantastic.
"Did you hear about him and Hermione? Isn't it wonderful!" Ginny gushed. "Can you believe that they're having a kid?"
Harry nodded absentmindedly as he stared at the ascending numbers light up while the dry woman's voice announced the department that corresponded with each floor.
"Harry, I'm sorry for the way things ended."
Harry sniffled, and shrugged again indifferently. "No matter, we both want different things."
Ginny nodded slowly, as the elevator finally stopped.
Before the doors could open, Ginny grabbed the sleeve of his robe, and pulled him back with such unexpected strength; it reminded Harry of one of the reasons he liked her in the first place.
"Look," She said, suddenly glaring at him as she slammed her hand on the wall behind him.
"Don't give my your unsympathetic, hardhearted bullshit, Harry. Don't stare at me with your dead eyes, and don't you dare use that dry voice with me! We both bloody know that this was your fault!" Ginny growled, looking Harry right in the eye.
"Fine, if it's my fault," Harry glanced at his watch once more. Damn it, he was officially late. "...then why were you the one apologizing?"
Ah fuck, Harry thought as soon as the words passed his lips. He mentally kicked himself for asking such a question, one that might either evoke strong emotions, or take an extraordinarily long explanation; both particularly awkward situations that he really could not deal with at the moment. He just hoped that Ginny did not start sobbing, or much more likely started to hit him. Either way, it would take up more of the little time that he had, leading to him being in deep shit with his boss.
Instead, Ginny opened her mouth and closed it once more. She sighed, and removed her hand from the wall behind him, suddenly looking defeated.
"Whatever, Harry. The funny thing is, I would have stayed with you forever if you let me."
Ginny was not looking at him anymore. With her shoulders stiff and without another glance his way, she walked out of elevator.
"Ginny…" Harry called, as he began to follow her. "I am sorry." He muttered to her back.
"A little too late Harry. Just a piece of advice though; maybe with your next girlfriend you can try to show a bit of emotion at least once in a while. Just so she knows that you actually care." Ginny said with a small wave of her hand. She turned into the office Ron shared with another magical law enforcement employee, Gregory Bluggins who was the head of judicial and perpetrator research.
Harry turned into his own office, setting the load of parchment on his desk and draping his cloak around his chair. Well, at least the answer Ginny gave did not take too long. However, he was now sure she hated him much more than she ever did before.
Harry began writing the first of many reports he was supposed to have finished last night. It was no matter; he had an excuse to be a little slack. Currently, Harry held the record of having the highest number of solved cases and perpetrators in custody in the past seven years. He had recently apprehended the dark wizards in charge of masterminding a worldwide terrorist op in which they had planned overthrow nearly thirty countries by controlling the most powerful people in the world through the Imperius Curse. This had made Harry front-page news (again) and had put him over the top. Whispers and gossip around the Ministry dictate that he was a shoe in to become head Auror, and at age 24 the youngest yet. As long as he could finished these damn reports…then get out, and follow up on a lead he had of some suspicious muggle murders up in Newcastle.
A piece of parchment shaped as a paper plane glided into his office and landed on the desk. Harry opened it begrudgingly, knowing that it would be yet another report he would have to fill out on Ron's behalf; he certainly wished that his friend would stop airplane-ing Harry his work. Still, with the baby on the way, Harry was really having a hard time saying no.
He quickly scanned over the neat script, his eyes narrowing at each word.
Placement…vampires…Forks, Washington…was this some kind of sick, cruel joke?
"Where the hell is Washington?" Harry exclaimed scanning the piece of parchment again.
Bluggins, who had been skulking outside of Harry's door, holding a pile of books and papers, cleared his throat nervously. He was a balding, twitchy type of man; a man who seemed to be more suited as a History of Magic Professor than a Law Enforcement employee. However, Harry was repeatedly reminded that Bluggins had extraordinary research skills. The man was practically a stalker.
"Washington is in the United States; the Pacific Northwest to be precise. It was actually named after George Washington who was the first President of…" Bluggins' words faltered as he spotted the murderous look in Harry's eye.
"I don't give a flying fuck who it was named after, Bluggins!" Harry barked. He sank deeper in his chair and with his elbow on his desk he held his forehead with the palm of his hand.
"Look, Harry, you're the Ministry's best Auror. This case is one that needs your expertise." Bluggins explained quickly, his voice raising an octave as he did so.
Harry had stopped listening to Bluggins all together. Stupid head Auror always bossing Harry around…he didn't know what situation needed Harry's expertise if it bit him in the ass…having Harry inside writing reports, then shipping him off to some foreign country…
Harry crumpled the parchment in his fist. He was truly beginning to see red.
"You er, have to leave right away." Bluggins said, his voice shaking slightly. Harry glared up at him.
"Fine!" He snapped, standing up quickly. He picked up the load of parchments once more and grabbed his cloak angrily from behind his chair.
This was bull fucking-shit. There were so many other Aurors they could have sent…
Then again, Harry thought taking a deep, though shaky breath. This could be seen as an opportunity to truly prove his worth to the Ministry.
Yes! The Ministry were bound to give Harry the head position after he had apprehended—Harry un-crumpled the parchment in his hand and smoothed it out—a rogue vampire coven in The United States.
"Fine, Bluggins…" Harry said quietly feeling a sudden aura of calmness. Bluggins seemed to breathe easier as well and gave him an uncertain smile.
"There are some things you will have to do since you have to go undercover as a muggle. Before you leave, I'm going to have to give you the background info of all of the members of the coven…" Bluggins continued to rattle on.
"Fine, Bluggins…" Harry said absentmindedly, this could be good. He could get out, see the world, and maybe get some sleep (seriously, how hard could it be to catch a couple of vampires?) More importantly, he would not have to worry about reading Hermione's bloody book.
"Oh, by the way," Bluggins interrupted Harry's thoughts as he struggled not to topple the pile or papers and books in his hands. He handed Harry a familiar, thick, hard covered book.
"Mr. Weasley told me to hand it over to you. He said you could probably use some light reading on your trip."
"Tell Mr. Weasley, Mr. Potter said to fuck off." Harry growled.
So, Whaddaya think? Once again, please leave a review! It would mean a lot.