The sound of voices that greeted Harry as he entered the Ministry of Magic was—compared to the silence of the street he'd just come from—nearly deafening. He covered his ears for a second, before he took a deep breath and continued on through the spacious lobby.

"All right there, Harry?" a stout, young wizard with a billowing gold cloak asked.

His uniform was visible even though it was mostly concealed by his cloak. Harry inferred that the young wizard must work for the Improper Use of Magic office.

He nodded and gave the wizard a slight smile, before he hurried off toward the lift. He hadn't meant to come across as rude, but he was just too nervous. He hadn't eaten much before coming—he had only managed to take a few bites of toast before nausea brought on by anxiety had washed over him.

The young wizard hadn't seemed to mind; if he had, he didn't show it. Instead, he called, "Have a productive day!", and rushed off in the opposite direction to take care of something else.

Harry was barely aware of the memos that fluttered in after him as he entered the lift. Minister Shacklebolt still kept the clever idea of using memos in practice even after he had taken up his new postwar role. Harry took the few moments he had while the lift passed the stories one by one to compose himself and gain control of his frantically fluttering stomach.

Too soon, though, the cheerful female voice announced, "Level two, Department of Magical Law Enforcement, including the Improper Use of Magic Office, Auror Headquarters, and Wizengamot Administration Services."

Harry took one last deep breath, steeled himself, and walked briskly out of the lift, trailed after by several memos, which scattered in the direction of their respective destinations. One still seemed to follow Harry, however, and it didn't stop until he approached a door, which was open a crack. The memo slipped inside, but Harry didn't dare follow it. Instead, he knocked twice, feeling his hart begin to race again.

"Enter."

The calm, deep voice of the Minister seemed to make Harry feel just a tiny bit better. As he slowly pushed the door open wide enough for him to slip through, the Minister smiled, clearly happy to see him.

"Ah, Harry. Right on time."

As Kingsley Shacklebolt gestured for Harry to sit down in the empty chair, Harry's nervousness seemed to evaporate. It took a great amount of effort for him not to laugh out loud. Kingsley gave him a questioning, amused glance as Harry couldn't help but smile.

"It's just... I was... well..."

"Nervous?"

Harry met Kingsley's knowing gaze, only mildly surprised that the new Minister seemed to understand Harry's apprehension.

"I felt the exact same way when I was in your place, Harry," the kind wizard said quietly. "And I wouldn't suspect that we are the only ones that went through the emotional roller coaster that comes with the beginning of Auror training."

Harry gave Kingsley a slight smile, feeling much better, though a tiny bit of unease still remained coiled in the pit of his stomach. Sensing this, the minister placed a gentle hand on Harry's shoulder.

"If this helps, I know you'll do just fine. After all, you already have many abilities that are learned in the basics of Auror training, and some that are even better than those that practice for many years."

By some form of unspoken terms, Kingsley didn't directly discuss Harry's defeat of Voldemort, and Harry was thankful for it. This fact made him like the minister a lot more. Kingsley had known Harry for a short while before the battle, but it still surprised Harry that he seemed to know what to say and what not to, whether to bring something up or not at all, and how Harry felt nearly every time they spoke.

Harry sighed, impulsively rubbing his eyes. The events of the bloody battle were still painfully fresh in everyone's minds, especially Harry's. Despite the fact that Ron and Hermione kept reassuring him that the deaths of their friends and, in Ron's case, his brother, weren't Harry's fault, he was nevertheless haunted by the people who were killed: Lupin, Tonks, Moody, Fred, and the countless others that Harry couldn't bear to think of. In the amount of time that he had let his mind wander to the victims of the Battle of Hogwarts, the office had been silent. The minister hadn't spoken, for he inferred that Harry was thinking, and judging by his expression, he was thinking about events that troubled him deeply. Finally, Harry drew a shaky breath and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Kingsley sighed, shaking his head. "For what, Harry?" The question was soft and sympathetic. "You have nothing to apologize for."

He said nothing more, for he didn't want to trouble the young man with heavy words that he knew Harry had already heard before. Instead, he let Harry have a moment, before he sighed softly and gave him a gentle pat on the shoulder.

"Let me get you your uniform and materials, Harry," he offered quietly.

"Yeah... thanks, Minister."

Kingsley nodded before he stood and went to a large cabinet near the door. He pulled open a large drawer and retrieved a large plastic bag. He closed the drawer with a click, before he reached over and took a small book off of a stack on the desk that stood in a corner of the room. He held it out to Harry, who took it, murmuring his thanks.

Harry glanced at the book. The parchment was thick, the same official-looking parchment that, he realized, had been used when a letter had been sent to the Dursley's before his fifth year at Hogwarts when he had been accused of using magic in front of a Muggle—in this case, his cousin, Dudley. The title of the book, _Auror _Training: _What _You _Need _to Know, was written lengthwise in bold lettering. Harry leafed absently through the pages, noting how thick it seemed to be. With a weary sigh, he slowly got to his feet, turning to face Kingsley.

"Thank you," he said softly.

The young Minister offered a gentle, warm smile as he gave Harry another reassuring pat on the back. "Don't worry, Harry. You'll do just fine."

Harry sighed as he unlocked the door to his house. He used an ordinary key in broad daylight, just in case any Muggles happened to be watching. He had managed to buy the house right after the battle, and he had done a few renovations to it as needed, though, admittedly, there wasn't really much to be done. The house had already been in excellent condition when Harry had purchased it—the only truly significant thing he had done was to bring in some new appliances and redo the carpeting.

The house was small, with only two bedrooms, a bathroom, a kitchenette, and a small living room. For Harry, though, it was perfect. The house was located in a quiet, suburban neighborhood a short distance away from his parents' home in Godric's Hollow. Even though the thought of Godric's Hollow brought back many painful memories, he liked living near the place where his parents had intended to raise him. He liked the neighborhood, too; many wizard families lived there, as well as a few Muggle families.

Even though his life with the Dursleys hadn't been at all glamorous or easy, or perhaps even humane, Harry didn't dislike Muggles in general, and he found that he liked living among them. It brought both aspects of who he was together; not only was he a wizard, but he also had Muggle blood, and there were still things in the Muggle world that he enjoyed.

He placed the plastic bag containing his training uniform atop his bed, along with the book. A soft, rapid tapping on his window startled him, but when he glanced through the curtains, a broad grin broke across his face. He unlatched the windowpane and heaved it open, still smiling as he reached out to stroke the owl's soft feathers. In greeting, the owl hooted softly and nibbled his finger gently, which reminded him, with a twinge of sadness, of his former owl.

Hedwig had been through a lot with him, and losing her had been like having a limb amputated. It was mainly because of the loss he had felt that he had initially refused to get another owl. He knew he would have to get another one eventually, however, and, after many weeks of laboring over the decision, he finally forced himself to go get one. Little did he know that he would find one that, eerily enough, looked just like Hedwig, and even tended to act like her quite often. Upon seeing her, he had immediately bought her without hesitation, his mind filled with nothing but thoughts of his deceased friend. He had been so overcome with emotion when he realized just how alike the two owls truly were that he actually sank to his knees beside the bed and let the emotions that came with Hedwig's loss truly show themselves for the first time. So it was then that he had decided to name his new owl in honor of his fallen friend, and was overjoyed that she seemed to be like the twin of his former.

Hedwig hooted again as she climbed onto his arm. He smiled again as he closed the window, spotting the letter that was tied to her leg. He got Hedwig a treat before unfolding the letter.

Harry,

Things are going great here, though I miss you terribly. I suppose I should have gotten used to you not being at school anymore, but I still haven't. I'm just grateful I only have this year left. I'm so excited for the holidays; I get to come home and be with you. It's only two weeks away! I love you, Harry, please don't forget that. I know you'll do amazingly during your first week of Auror training. I have faith in you, and you should, too. All of us do. Write me back a quick note when you can.

Love you always,

Ginny

Harry couldn't help but smile as he read the letter once more. He had managed to rekindle his romance with Ginny Weasley after the battle, and they had more or less started dating. It still surprised him how okay with it Ron seemed to be, considering that it was his younger sister. As Ron had put it, though, it was better for Ginny to be with Harry, since Ron could fully trust him, rather than someone he would have to get to know. Harry supposed that it made sense; he was just glad that he wouldn't have to choose between his best friend and his relationship with Ginny.

He read it a third time before he got a quill and a piece of parchment and wrote back to her, eventually sending Hedwig off with the note.

He spent the rest of the afternoon shifting between watching TV and dozing, before he finally decided to have some dinner. Afterward, he took a shower and, once he felt refreshed, settled down to read his Auror training book.

It explained what Auror training consisted of, a year-by-year schedule of what would be covered and what methods were used in training, and what minimum scores a perspective Auror would have to have in order to pass the tests given at the end of the four years, along with a breakdown of the tests given annually.
By the time Harry had read the entire thing, it was well past midnight, and his eyelids were closing. Wearily, he set the training guide on the small table beside his bed, along with his glasses. He turned out the light with a murmur of, "_Nox." Though he was exhausted, it took awhile for Harry to truly find sleep, for his mind refused to quiet itself. All of the information he had learned from his reading was swimming around his mind in a jumbled, confusing mess. He forced his thoughts to slow down, and sleep soon overtook him.