Harry Potter fan fiction
The New and Improved Ministry of Magic
Chapter I
The Ministry of Magic- the heart of the British wizarding world. And very little of the building itself had changed over the centuries. Levels might have been added, the dungeons expanded, but the atrium stood much the same as it had on the day it was built.
Minus the fountain, Ron thought as he shuffled by, trying to avoid the thick din of witches and wizards crowding the Ministry's atrium. The fountain's last incarnation had depicted wizards standing upon the distorted bodies of various magical creatures. But shortly after the Ministry had been retaken and the Second Wizarding War had ended, it had been changed yet again and now illustrated the Battle of Hogwarts. Water spilled from the castle's high arched windows and splashed down behind pint-sized statues of witches and wizards, centaurs, goblins, and giants who had been placed in a defensive position in front of the school. Ron found that of all of the fountain's incarnations he liked this one the most. It was plain and elegant in white marble, which had a stark contrast with the rest of the Ministry lobby; the dark stone of the walls and the high ceilings were cloaked in shadow, giving the atrium a dark, almost oppressive feel. As Ron approached a line of wizards waiting for the next lift, he felt a hand clap his back.
"Mornin' mate," said a familiar voice behind him. Ron turned to find the wide grin of his best friend Harry.
"Good Morning," repeated Ron with a little less of his usual pep. Harry's grin faltered slightly.
"Merlin, you look terrible. Did you sleep at all last night?"
"Not a wink," answered Ron as he managed to return a sleepy grin. "Rose's been sick and she's been making sure the whole flat knows it. I'm just grateful for a break from all of the screaming, honestly."
"Ah, it'll be over soon, mate," consoled Harry, clapping Ron on the shoulder one last time. "I didn't get a good night's sleep for months after James was born."
Ron sighed. "I don't think I have months left to give. I'm at my wits end! What's the secret?"
"Silencio," Answered Harry with a smirk. "Just long enough so I could get a quick nap in," He added hastily as Ron opened his mouth.
"That is-," whispered Ron, "Genius," he finished, with a strange glazed look in his eyes.
Harry laughed.
"Yeah, but don't tell Ginny. She's still upset about me letting James ride my broom."
"You don't have to worry about that mate. Hermione wont let me hear the end of that one either. 'Ronald Weasley!' whined Ron, in his best Hermione imitation, 'How on Earth did you think a baby on a broom was even remotely a good idea?!'"
"Victor Krum rode his first broom when he was even younger than James!" Retorted Harry.
"I know! Everyone knows that all the best start young," Ron agreed. "And besides, Quidditch is in his blood. You, your dad, Ginny… He's a natural."
The lift finally arrived and put a quick end to their conversation. Both Ron and Harry attempted to squeeze in, with Ron's toes just barely clearing the gate. He could feel the hot breath of the wizard behind him on his neck and an odd, musky smell that reminded him of one of his aunt's couches seemed to be coming from a tattered witch in a huge furry trench coat on his right.
The lift began to ascend slowly and after several very long and uncomfortable moments, the bell finally chimed to announce the lift's arrival to floor two: The Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Harry squeezed out to Ron's left and he followed close behind.
Ron breathed a sigh of relief. He had never been claustrophobic, but being packed into that lift made him feel a little woozy.
They had entered into a large chamber packed with cubicles. Scores of workers could be heard clacking away at typewriters, with only the very tips of their heads visible above the cubicle walls. Ron and Harry walked together, down the wide aisles between cubicles to get to a door in the back corner of the room, whose placement seemed to be almost an afterthought. Few of the workers seemed to notice them. Harry crossed the last few steps to the door and turned the knob. The heavy oak door swung open to reveal a long hall, this one lined with offices. The offices closest to the door were the most handsome; these were the offices of the head and the deputy head of the Auror's Office.
Ron, however, occupied one of the much smaller and much less inviting offices near the end of the hall. His office was so small in fact, that Magical Maintenance had been unable to even fit a window.
Ron's desk was covered with clutter; paper work from cases weeks past (Hermione had always chastised him for his procrastination and he was beginning to think he understood why), and evidence boxes stacked three high lined the back corner. Empty picture frames were thrown haphazardly into a box on one of the two chairs in his office. Even though Ron had moved into the office 6 years ago, he had yet to install any pictures of his family. In fact, the only thing that adorned Ron's wall was a lonely poster of his favorite Quidditch team, Puddlemere United.
Harry, on the other hand, occupied the deputy Head's office, a bright and airy room, easily three times the size of Ron's. It had several windows, all magically fixed, and even featured several comfortable looking armchairs as well as a bookshelf behind the desk. It was a lot neater than Ron's. Harry's desk was clear, but had two bins, one for new paperwork and one for that he had already finished. Like Ron, harry had a little procrastination streak; his new paperwork pile was a lot smaller, though the bin itself was just as untidy as Ron's desk. Pictures of he and Ginny on their wedding day, James on his first birthday, and Harry, James and Ginny together lined his desk.
Despite this, Harry hadn't put much effort into decorating his office either. One day Ginny had visited him on his lunch break and took it upon herself to decorate for him. Ron and their fellow aurors had howled with laughter as he had tried unsuccessfully to remove the magically attached patterned wallpaper and lace curtains that Ginny had installed. However, harry had been content to let the photos keep their place.
Ron walked into his small, dim office and sat down, emitting a deep sigh. He was more tired than he could ever remember being and nothing put him to sleep faster than paperwork.
Come on, you've been putting this off for weeks, ron thought to himself. Just this one file and then you can take a break.
He resolved himself to his task and pulled the first file on the top of the pile to him, while using his other forearm to clear an area to write. He opened it to the first page, picked up his quill, uncorked the ink and slowly dipped his quill.
On the date of _ the accused_ was apprehended at _ and charged with the crime of_.
Ugh, even the first sentence drawled.
Who would have thought being an auror involved so much paperwork?
"Weasley!"
Ron jumped violently, his left arm sending the open inkpot flying onto the floor with a thud. A short wizard with greasy blonde hair and angry red acne on his cheeks poked his head in. Ron cursed.
"Dammit, Cooper!" Exclaimed Ron as he yanked his wand from his belt and scourgified the spilled ink from his desk.
"Captain wants to see every one in the detective hall," stated the wizard, his voice slightly subdued as he watched Ron clean the ink from his robes.
"What for?" Ron asked as he rose from behind his desk and removed the last of the ink.
"Who knows? All he said was he'd hex anyone who's late", he said as he rubbed a particularly dry patch of skin on his chin.
"That serious?" asked Ron thoughtfully.
"I guess so," answered the blonde wizard.
"Come on then," said Ron as he grabbed his cloak that was draped over a rickety chair in front of his desk. "Remember the last time when he hexed Crowley?"
When Ron entered the hall, he found it to be already full with the only seats being near the back of the chamber. The chamber itself was split with one half of the long tables on one side of the room and a large aisle separating them from another set of tables along the opposite wall. Ron darted quickly down the center aisle to the third row from the back with Cooper on his heels, and took two empty seats at the end. The hum of scores of conversations echoed within the high stone walls and the arched ceiling. Candles on the wooden tables flickered as the door at the back of the room opened and closed admitting the last of the latecomers. The chamber was very warm, even this far underground, but was also very dim. The only light came from the candles hovered 6 feet above the 20 wooden tables on each side of the room and one unusually bright candle at the very front. On the wall was a large blank sheet of parchment outlined in an ornate golden frame. Hundreds of years old, the Goblin wrought frame gleamed dangerously in the candlelight and depicted the first contact between the races and the signing of the Great Treaty, which put an end to the final Goblin Rebellion.
Mr. Cooke, the Head of the Auror's Office and a portly wizard with tufts of coarse white hair above his ears and none on the top of his head and an oddly curled mustache, walked to the center of the floor. He stroked his oddly curled white mustache and cleared his throat. Although the sound did not carry far, the silence that fell almost immediately was absolute.
"Welcome," he boomed as he looked around the room, his hands clapped around his ample belly. "It seems that I will not have to hex anyone today. Pity, as I had just found the perfect encore to my Caprifors hex." Several in the audience laughed and gazed in the direction of an uncomfortable looking wizard in the second row who seemed to shrink in his chair.
"But on to business," He cleared his throat. "Many of you may have heard already. The body of a young witch has been found in Hyde Park. Edwards-" he motioned to a skimpy looking wizard with round rimmed glasses hanging precariously at the tip of his nose. He rushed forward, almost tripping on the hem of his robes. Another round of snickers emerged from the gallery. Edwards flicked his wand at the large candle, seemingly deaf to the snickers, and a thin bronze sheet of metal coiled its way around, focusing the light onto the large piece of parchment, strategically placed on the front wall. Another flick of the wand and an image began to snake across the page. The snickers stopped immediately.
"Notice the abrasions on her throat indicate that she was strangled," stated Cooke, using a long wooden stick as a pointer.
"Strangled?" piped up a small voice in the rear. "Isn't this a case for the muggle police?"
Cooke turned in the direction of the outburst. The stare he gave the speaker was as cold as ice and he seemed to shrink even lower in his seat than his colleague. After a momentary silence, Cooke cleared his throat and continued.
"Next Image, Ed."
The scrawny wizard flicked his wand again. The lines and colors seemed to rearrange on the page.
"As you can see, there are several deep lacerations and bites all along her body. all of her internal organs are missing. Judging from the bite marks it looks like a textbook werewolf attack."
There was an open groan from the gallery.
"What you see here folks, is what happens when out of control werewolves roam the streets of London. The press is having a field day. The Minister has assigned this to us because he wants this taken care of quickly and efficiently. And you gentlemen-"
A small cough came from the right of the chamber.
"-and ladies," continued the old department head in an apologetic tone, "Will do everything in your power to find this mongrel before he strikes again. The last thing we need the whole community up in a panic."
"Potter- I'm putting you in charge of this case."
Harry accepted the responsibility with only a solemn nod but he suddenly became extremely aware of just how warm the chamber was.
"Pick your team and head out. The first wave is awaiting your arrival." He raised his voice and his attention back to the crowd. "Everyone else, Edwards will call your name for your new assignments."
It was an informal dismissal at best, and most took it as such. The sounds of the scrapes of wooden chairs echoed throughout the chamber as people stood and stretched their legs and conversations began buzzing again.
Harry was one of the first to stand.
"Ok so I'll take Baker, Harris, Clarke, Anderson, Weasley, and Crowley," harry yelled over the din that was growing louder and by the second.
"Baker! Harris! Weasley! Clarke! Anderson! Crowley! Up front please!"
Ron's ears perked up as he heard his name. He rose from he seat stretching his legs as he did so and began to walk up to the front of the chamber. The 5 others who's name had been called filed in in front of and behind him. When they had finally reached the front of the chamber, they formed a semicircle in front of Harry.
"Grab anything you need now. We're going to meet in the atrium in 20 minutes to go to the crime scene. Yes, everyone needs to go. No, Crowley we don't have time to stop for lunch. And everybody be on time," he said, placing emphasis on the last three words. "Dismissed." The others moved to gather their things from their offices, but before Harry could walk even 3 steps, Cooke appeared suddenly to his right.
"Potter, can I have a word?"
"Yes, sir," answered Harry as he allowed the Captain to show him to a slightly more quiet corner away from the others.
"Harry," said the Captain in a grave tone. "This case is very important."
Harry felt a knot growing in the pit of his stomach.
"Yes, sir, I understand."
"I wouldn't put this on you if I didn't think you were ready, he continued, placing a hand on Harry's shoulder. "I know this is a lot to ask with you only being deputy for such a short while. But I'm going to retire sooner rather than later, gods help me, and you'll need to be ready. I was with this department for 35 years before Kingsley got promoted to minister. I daresay I've earned a bit of a rest," he said with a chuckle. His brown eyes softened as he looked at Harry. "You're one of the better aurors I've worked with, Harry. You'll be a great Head of the department one day. But right now I need you to rise to today's challenge. I'm counting on you."
"This case will be by the book, sir. I promise, I wont let you down. Or Kingsley."
"I never doubted that, Harry."
And with that, Captain Cooke left Harry to organizing his task force. Harry looked up, and noticed Ron waiting for him by the first row of tables and walked over.
"What was that about?" asked Ron in a whisper.
"I'll tell you later," replied Harry. "Come on then. It'd look pretty bad if the deputy was late to his own briefing."
20 minutes later, Harry and Ron were standing in the atrium waiting for the rest of the group to arrive. Anderson, Baker, and Harris all arrived on time with minutes to spare. Anderson and Baker, two department veterans, had been friends since their days at Hogwarts, and were engaged in a passionate conversation with Harris about the Chudley Cannons' chances at the World Cup. Clarke appeared a few minutes later, her long brunette hair flowing behind her as she walked briskly over to their group.
"Sorry I'm late," she apologized as she fixed her hair and adjusted her cloak. "I had some last minute paperwork."
"Last minute makeup check, you mean," Ron said quietly with a smirk. Clarke shot him one of her famous dirty looks and was opening her mouth to retort when Crowley finally straggled over to the group, 3 minutes late.
"I said on time Crowley," sighed Harry. Crowley merely offered up an apologetic shrug.
"Ok now that were all here, before we head over I want to talk it over one more time and lay down a game plan."
Another 15 minutes later, the 6 of them emerged from the secret Ministry lift at the end of a dark, dank alley in downtown London. As he stepped outside, Ron felt the warmth of the lift leave him as the cold winter winds battered his face.
"Alright mates, remember," said Harry, addressing his colleagues one last time, "the alley next to the Muggle bookstore, across from the park. See you there." And with that, Harry Potter disapparated with a crack.
"Merlin, you'd think us slow the way he goes on," joked Crowley as he pulled his scarf up around his chin.
"Crowley, I'm sure you are a bit slow," said Anderson before disapparating after Harry.
Baker laughed.
"See you there, mate." And he disappeared as well.
Ron closed his eyes and took a deep breath before he felt the familiar tightening feeling in the pit of his stomach that always came when one apparated.