Spoiler Warning: This story is post-Deathly Hallows. It'll give away key points of that book. For the sake of one of the best literary experiences out there today, if you haven't read that book go do it now. You can always come back and read my drivel later. :)
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. 'Nuff said. On with the story.
"That was a religious experience."
Harry Potter opened first one eye and then the other, glancing sideways at his girlfriend Ginny Weasley, who was laying sideways next to him in bed, her head propped up on her right arm. The sheets had fallen low enough that Harry was distinctly, and pleasantly, aware of just how little Ginny was wearing.
Bemusedly, Harry smiled. "Good morning," he said.
Ginny smiled, too. "You have no idea how long I've been waiting to hear you say that," she said.
"Good morning?" Harry asked. "I've said it to you loads of times at the Burrow."
"Yeah," Ginny said. "But never like that."
Harry grinned. He was just playing with her anyway. He knew what she meant. He was about to open his mouth to ask Ginny what she wanted to do that day when Harry's bedroom door creaked and popped open.
"Kreacher thought he'd bring you your breakfast in bed, Master Harry, seeing as it's past eleven and you haven't risen yet," the small, hunched elf said. He stopped in his tracks upon seeing Ginny. "Er...hello, Mistress Weasley."
It had taken Ginny about twenty minutes to get over her previous dislike of Kreacher once she saw how a little kindness had changed him. She smiled at him and yawned. "G'morning, Kreacher."
Kreacher bowed slightly. "Your breakfast, sir," he said.
"That's all right, Kreacher," Harry said. "You can bring it back down to the table. We'll probably down in a while."
"But your porridge will be cold, sir!" Kreacher cried. He still had just enough of his old contrary streak in him to contradict his master, something few house-elves were bold enough to do. Harry liked it and encouraged it.
"All right," Harry said. "But if you would, nip downstairs and grab us an extra spoon. We'll share it."
Kreacher's face brightened again. "Right away, sir!" he said, pausing only to place the tray he carried on the end of the bed and bow lowly before bolting back out the door.
"Hard to believe that only a year and a half ago he was the most miserable house-elf I'd ever met," Ginny observed.
"I still feel bad for him sometimes," Harry said. "The only reason I give him any orders is that he starts looking gloomy whenever I don't for more than a day or two."
"Probably doesn't want to be reminded of all those years he spent here, alone," Ginny guessed.
Harry nodded. "That was Hermione's guess."
At the mention of the other girl's name, Ginny perked up again. "Have you spoken with Ron or Hermione lately?" she asked.
"No, they're still on vacation with Bill and Fleur," Harry said.
Ginny frowned. "I still don't think it was a good idea," she stated.
Harry rolled his eyes, but they were still twinkling, giving away that his annoyance was only playful in nature. "Bill and Fleur wanted one last adventure before her pregnancy gets so far along that she can't. And obviously they won't have any time for that kind of thing once the baby's born, so..."
"At least Ron and Hermione went along to make sure Fleur doesn't over exert herself," Ginny allowed.
"Do you really think that's why Hermione and Ron went along?" Harry asked, amused.
"Yeah," Ginny said. "Why else would they have?"
Harry, grinning, looked down at the sheets meaningfully.
"Oh, eww," Ginny said, picking up a pillow and hitting Harry with it. "I don't want to think about Ron doing that."
Harry laughed, and a moment later Ginny joined in. Kreacher returned with the extra spoon and then bowed out again, leaving Harry and Ginny to eat the porridge.
"Mmm," Ginny said. "He's a better cook than Mum."
"Don't ever let her hear you say that," Harry said.
Ginny waved him off. "She'd just take it as a challenge. We'd have a week of hyper-cooking and then things would go back to normal."
"Or what passes for normal at the Burrow," Harry said.
This time Ginny rolled her eyes. "As much as I love my family – that place could drive anyone crazy."
"I love it there," Harry said.
"I know," Ginny said. She brushed her hand against his cheek. "You're sweet."
"Don't tell anyone," Harry said, lowing his voice in mirthful mockery. "It'd ruin my reputation."
Ginny smiled, but it was a bit strained. Across the room, on Harry's desk, was yesterday's copy of the Daily Prophet, which bore the headline: "Harry Potter, One Year Later – Where Is He?"
At that moment, a tapping came on the window. Harry grabbed his wand off the bedside table and flicked it at the window, which clicked open, admitting a dark owl. With a pang, Harry realized he'd been expecting Hedwig's snowy white form – the snowy white form that would never fly through another window.
Ginny, distracted by the owl, didn't see Harry's moment of inner pain. "I wonder who sent it," she mused.
The owl landed on the bedside table and, as Harry removed the letter from it's right talon, muttered, "Couldn't have been anyone unimportant..."
He unfurled the note and read, Ginny looking over his shoulder.
Dear Mr. Potter,
I know how much you value your privacy and I would not be writing to you were this not a time of some urgency. I regret to inform you that Lucius Malfoy has escaped from Azkaban prison. As you were a principle figure in his trial and subsequent life sentence, and as he never fully renounced the ideals of the fallen Dark Lord, we thought it prudent to inform you of his escape.
Sincerely,
Francis Early, Minister of Magic
"Son of a bitch..." Harry muttered.
"Lucius Malfoy escaped?" Ginny asked.
"He was only in there for eight months and he's already found a way out," Harry said. "Way to go, Minister Early."
Ginny scowled. "Early's just another Fudge clone. He only got to be Minister because of all those people his money helped during Voldemort's rise."
"Donating money to the families of Voldemort's victims took guts," Harry pointed out.
"And look how it's paid off," Ginny said, to which Harry had to concede that she had a point.
"I wonder what they're doing to catch him," Harry said, trailing off. Ginny backed off from him noticeably, causing him to turn and face her.
"Oh, no you're not," she said.
"I'm not what?" Harry asked, confused.
"You're not going to go running off, playing hero and trying to catch an escaped convict," Ginny said, firmly.
Harry was incredulous. "When'd I say I was going to do that?"
The firmness didn't leave Ginny's voice. "I know you. You can't help it."
"If I can't help it then why are you bothering trying to talk me out of it?" Harry asked, rhetorically.
Ginny opened her mouth to respond, then shut it. He had a point. "Because you can't help giving me what I want?" she asked, feebily.
Harry was convincing himself of what he wanted to do quickly. "And do you really want me to sit here and stew while a madman's out running around, hurting people, when I know I can stop him?"
Ginny looked pained. Another point. Another two points, actually – Harry was no doubt better at hunting Dark wizards than anyone the Ministry had. "No..." she said, trailing off. "Hey, I thought you hadn't said you wanted to help track him down!"
"You just convinced me to, thanks," Harry said, hoping that this playful jab would break the tension.
It did the opposite. "I really dislike you sometimes," Ginny said, and there was just enough legitimacy in her voice to make Harry shiver.
Harry's voice took on a harder note. "This is something I have to do," he said. He softened, but only slightly. "Besides – could you ever like me if I sacrificed who I was?"
A weak smile formed. "Fine – but I'm coming with you. And no protests," she said, seeing Harry's mouth fly open. "You can't use my age against me anymore. I'm an adult, just like you."
Harry's mouth stayed open, working itself quickly without producing any sound. He snapped it shut, scratched his chin, and finally spoke. "Okay. But if you die I'm going to kill you."
For one wild second, Ginny honestly thought Harry hadn't realized what he'd said. Then she saw a grin spread across his face and, roaring slightly at having been duped, she grabbed him by the shoulders and pushed him back down onto the bed, climbing on top of him.
What happened next caused what remained of Kreacher's porridge to bounce off the bed and spill all over the floor.
A few (blissful) hours later, Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley stood outside the office of Francis Early, Minister of Magic. When they'd arrived at the Ministry ten minutes before and requested a meeting with the Minister, his bored secretary informed them that he was booked for a solid month and that if they wanted him to hear their ideas on whatever, they'd have to wait. Then the secretary had looked up, seen Harry and his scar. Things happened quick after that.
The door opened, and a stout wizard with black hair greeted them. The smile he wore didn't quite reach his eyes. "Mr. Potter, Miss Weasley, it's so good to finally meet you face to face." He reached out a hand, which Harry shook. He watched as Early took Ginny's hand and bowed (one of Ginny's eyebrows raised), and then Early stepped back and invited the pair into his office.
Early's office wasn't exactly what Harry had expected. It was rather smaller than he would have thought, and far less extravagant. Simple, functional square bookshelves lined one wall, opposite the wall upon which a map of Britain and a number of framed quotations hung. Behind Early's modestly-sized, lightly covered desk was a large window, which displayed a view of London that looked to be around three stories high.
"I trust you got my owl," Early said, sliding around his desk to sit behind it as Harry and Ginny took the two seats in front of it.
"Yes, sir," Harry said. "That's why we're here. I want to help you catch Lucius Malfoy."
Early's eyebrows both headed towards his hairline. "I must say, I'm rather surprised," he said. "In every public appearance you've made since the defeat of the Dark Lord, you've said that your days of hunting Dark wizards is over. Why the change?"
Harry took a deep breath. "Back then, the job was over," Harry said. "This is a loose end. I can help tie it up."
Early nodded. "I understand," he said, and his tone of voice suggested that he really did. He nodded again, a somewhat far-off look having seized his eyes. "I'll have to discuss this with the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, but I doubt he'll object." Early chuckled.
"What's funny?" Harry asked.
"It's just – I'm sure he'll be glad to see you, what with you being old friends," Early said. The slightest note of malicious pleasure had crept into his voice, but it was gone by the time he picked up his wand off the table and spoke again. "Miss Erines, please ask Mr. Shacklebolt to join me in my office."
"Yes, Minister," the secretary's voice came back, the boredom just barely masked.
"Do forgive Alicia," Early said. "I do most things myself, you see. She doesn't generally have much to do."
"Kingsley Shacklebolt is head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement?" Harry asked.
"Yes," Early said. "My first act as Minister of Magic was to ask him to take over the department. He was the perfect man for the job."
Surprised, Harry nodded. "Yeah," he said. "Couldn't agree more."
A moment later, a knock came on the door. This time, Early didn't bother to get up. "Come in," he said, and the door opened.
Kingsley Shacklebolt walked through, looking every bit as powerful and reserved as he did back in the days of the Order of the Phoenix. "You wanted to see me, Minister?" he asked. Then he noticed Harry, and his somewhat dour expression perked.
"Yes, Kingsely, come in," Early said. "Mr. Potter here has requested to assist you with the capture of Lucius Malfoy and I wanted to get your input before giving him the go-ahead."
Kingsley folded his arms. "I don't see why not," he said, after thinking a moment. "The Auror team I have on the case haven't picked up any leads yet."
"It's settled then," Early said. "I'll leave the details to you." He stood and offered his hand to Harry once more. "Mr. Potter, thank you for coming to us in our time of need. I'm sure the wizarding community of Britain will be just as happy to know that we still have heroes to rely on in times of crisis."
Harry stood to and took Early's hand. "I'd hardly call it a crisis," he said. "Just a lunatic that needs to learn his place."
Early smiled at the bravado. "Once again, Mr. Potter, I understand."
Ginny said her own farewell to the Minister of Magic and she, Harry, and Kingsley all left his office. Once outside, Kingsley relaxed noticeably.
"I hadn't heard that you had been named head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement," Harry said.
"You must not have been reading the papers," Kingsley replied. "It was all over it, Early made sure of it. Damn politicians."
"It has been ages since you've done anything with the Daily Prophet except scan the front page and throw it away," Ginny pointed out, and Harry blushed.
"Okay, so I'm not up to date. Congratulations, anyway."
Kingsley scowled. "Thanks," he said, anyway. "Listen, I'm meeting with the Auror team to discuss the assignment tomorrow afternoon, in the Department's planning room, at four o'clock. Please come by then."
"I will," Harry said.
"I will, too," Ginny said.
Shacklebolt looked surprised. "You'll be helping us, as well?" he asked.
"I go where Harry goes," she said.
Shacklebolt regarded her seriously for a moment and Ginny blushed ever so slightly under his gaze. "You truly are Molly and Arthur Weasley's daughter," he said, after a time. "You, too, then. Four o'clock. Don't be late."
