Prologue
There was a timid knock at the door and Harry knew instantly who it would be. He took off his glasses and rubbed his sore eyes, sighing, but pleased to have an excuse to escape the paperwork. "Come in, Draco," he said.
The door opened just as timidly, and a tall, pale blond man stepped inside, clutching a sheaf of parchment to his chest. Twelve years had changed Draco Malfoy; he was barely recognizable. While most would have remembered him as haughty, arrogant, and self-assured, he had become meek, bumbling, and humble. Some owed it to the fact that his legendary father, Lucius, had been in Azkaban for the past ten years, but Harry knew differently. The Malfoy family hadn't been especially close to the Death Eaters in the last year of the fight. They still no longer knew exactly where they fit. Although Draco and his mother were under Ministry protection, they still lived in fear of the remaining Death Eaters, and in an embarrassed sort of gratitude to the Order of the Phoenix. Malfoys were proud. They didn't ask a bunch of Gryffindors to save their sorry arses. Unfortunately for them, times had changed.
"Mr. Weasley down in the Department of Mysteries wanted me to bring this to you, Mr. Minister," Draco said, holding the parchment out to Harry without really meeting his eyes.
Harry took the papers with a warm smile, trying to hide the acid that rose in the back of his throat. He might have hated Draco back at school, but he felt sorry for him now. Nobody deserved to live like this. He wished that Draco would treat him like a human being, instead of some unworthy hero. "Thank you, Draco."
The blonde smiled stiffly and hurried out of the office. Harry put his glasses back onto his stinging eyes and looked at the new pile of paperwork. He was surprised to be getting something from Ron, who knew that Harry was swamped and was always more than willing to find a way out of writing a report.
He glanced at the top of the page, and was surprised to see that it wasn't indeed a formal report. It was a letter.
Harry, read Ron's scribbling handwriting.
Listen, mate, I know you're busy, but I think this is worth it. Harold Dingle in Time and Paradoxes wanted me to forward this memo to you. It's not technically regulation yet but I thought you might be interested in trying it out. Dingle's staff tested it – it's very safe. Just needs your approval.
Intrigued, Harry flipped the top page and his jaw dropped when he looked at the title of the next page. He shoved his chair away from his desk and jogged out into the hall, racing as fast as he could to the Department of Mysteries.
It's my first ever HP fic. I know the writing is crap right now, but I promise it'll get better once I get used to it. Also, I'm chatting up a beta right now who will hopefully help me. Please let me know if this is intriguing enough to continue.