Author's Note: This is a complete story by my father, USNAGator91, chronicling the years between Voldemort's defeat and the Epilogue. He originally finished this almost ten years ago, and recently I asked him if it would be alright for me to reupload it here on so that it may reach a wider audience. I will be releasing chapters bi-weekly. I hope you all enjoy.

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to JK Rowling

Chapter 1 – The Job

The main hall of the Ministry of Magic was bustling with activity. Arrivals using the Floo Network whooshed in a flurry of dust and noise. The area bustled with a flurry of bodies moving rapidly into the Ministry. Wizards and goblins, muggles and witches of all types moved through the atrium, all with a purpose and destination, barely taking note of each other. Among them, a single wizard garbed in the black robes of an Auror followed along the predominant current of humanity, allowing it to carry him towards the elevators. He was of average height, with a head of dark hair, trimmed relatively short. Perched precariously on his nose was a pair of round spectacles, tilted slightly askew from the jostling the man had endured upon his entry to the great hall. Altogether, he presented a rather ordinary picture among the masses engaged in their morning commute, except if one was to look at his eyes. His eyes had the ability to capture a wandering stare, a vivid green that blazed, as if their owner had seen wondrous things and was sharing the afterglow of that experience with anyone who cared to look. As he approached the elevator, the man seemed indifferent to his surroundings. Without a glimpse around him, he boarded the lift and selected his destination. He barely noticed the doors beginning to close.

"Harry! Hold the lift, will you! Harry, hang on!"

Startled out of his morning commute daze, Harry Potter reacted to his name and pushed his hand holding his rucksack between the elevator doors, stopping their closure. Harry saw a pale hand inserted between the doors, followed by a shoulder, higher up on the door, indicating a tall man was trying to pry enough room between them to pull the rest of his body into the elevator. The shoulder was soon followed by a tuft of crimson hair that seemed to pull the rest of the man into the lift. After a moment, Ron Weasley, Harry's best friend, had managed to board the crowded elevator.

"Thanks mate. I'm glad you heard me."

"Hi Ron," Harry greeted his friend, "what brings you down this way? Come to see Hermione?"

"Well, yeah," said Ron, dipping his head sheepishly. "What?" asked Harry, immediately curious as to what would make his friend so embarrassed?

"Promise you won't laugh?"

"Laugh at what? Come on now, Ron, what are doing down here, give it up."

Ron cast a furtive glance around the lift, making sure there was no one around that he knew, "Hermione usually brings her lunch, and she was too busy this morning, she completely forgot to bring it in."

"Ron, did you make your wife lunch, and bring it all the way down here?" Harry raised an eyebrow at his friend. "You do remember what happened the last time you tried to make a meal."

"Oh, now, come on Harry, that was accident. How was I supposed to know that the pot would explode?"

Eager to change the subject, Ron quickly asked Harry about Ginny, Ron's sister and Harry's fiancé.

"We haven't seen much of each other lately. She's traveling with her team, and I've just finished my Auror training, so I've been running around, chasing magical lawbreakers, and such."

"Anything interesting? A swarm of dementers, a horde of Death eaters?" Ron displayed a mixture excitement and anxiety, given the history Harry had with practitioners of the Dark Arts.

"Nothing nearly that interesting, mostly running down violators of the Underage Usage of Magic Ban." Harry let out a little sigh, "Honestly Ron, I don't know if being an Auror was what I thought it was going to be."

"Chin up, mate. You're only just getting started. Give it some time. You're just in a mood, when was the last time you saw Ginny, anyway?"

Harry was disturbed that he actually had to think about that question. When was the last time he'd seen Ginny? "It's been almost two weeks, just before the Harpies started their tour of Europe. She should be back tomorrow."

"See? Things will get better tomorrow, mate, you'll see." Ron leaned into his friend's ear and whispered, "You just have to make some time for the both you, that's the best part of being with someone."

The elevator came to a halt. Harry walked out, while Ron remained on board. As the doors closed, Ron gave his friend a wink, "Chin up, mate! Everything will be right as rain, tomorrow, right as rain!"

Harry stared at the closed lift doors, lost in thought. After a moment, he turned down the hallway that would take him to the Office of Aurors. He turned into the doorway and prepared himself for another day of chasing puckish teens bent on casting spells on their friends for a laugh. Entering the Office, as it was known, Harry continued down a long hallway towards his own office. The passage way had white marble floors and walls, all polished to a high gloss, the polar opposite of the dark image presented by the hall leading to the Department of Mysteries. The walls were dotted with wooden doors, each which led to an office of an Auror. Each door had a white, frosted glass window, each emblazoned with the name of its occupant painted in a glowing reddish-gold script. As one of the most junior Aurors in the Office, Harry's office was at the very end of the corridor. Halfway down the hall, there was a large section of wall, composed of a free-standing, floating slab of the darkest granite. On the wall, the images and names of fallen Aurors were inscribed, a living memorial to those who had fallen in both battles with the Dark Lord. Each day, Harry had to pass this wall, unable to miss seeing the images of his comrades. There was Mad Eye Moody, large as day, and Tonks, displayed with her hair in a constant state of change.

Taking a deep breath, Harry continued on to his office. The door, recognizing Harry, opened, allowing Harry to enter. Harry tossed down his rucksack, adjusted his glasses and sat down at his cluttered desk.

"When was the last time you saw Ginny?" Ron's question seemed to echo in his head. His eyes were drawn to Ginny's picture, occupying the only clean portion of his desk. When, indeed. Two weeks ago they'd given each other pecks on the cheek and scampered off to their respective jobs. It'd really been weeks since they'd spent any time together, simply enjoying each other's company.

There seemed to be a correlation between his recent funk, and the time since he last held her, and Harry resolved himself to correct this. "Tomorrow, everything would be right as rain." How did his friend get so wise anyway? Is that what marriage does for a man? Harry let out a low chortle at the thought.

"Ahem, excuse me Harry," the voice belonged to Sarah Peebles. She was a year out of Hogwarts and starting her first year of Auror training, "Mr. Dawlish asked me to fetch you."

"Thanks, Sarah, I'll be right along." With another glance at Ginny's picture, Harry walked past Sarah and out into the hall. As he was leaving the room, Sarah thought she'd heard him whisper something under his breath. She couldn't be sure, but she thought she'd heard him say "Tomorrow."

Dawlish's office was back near the entryway, so Harry had to traverse almost the full length of the passage way. Dawlish was one of the senior Aurors, in fact, Harry had followed along with him on numerous occasions. Throughout the Voldemort crisis, Dawlish had served as best as he could. At his core, he was opposed to the Dark Arts, and began his active opposition to the Death eaters when their presence was revealed to the public. Today, he was in charge of the Office, as the senior Auror present. When Harry entered his office, Dawlish was huddled over his desk, buried in bits of parchment, with several owls perched on the stoop near his office window.

"Oh, there you are Harry, excellent." Dawlish extended his arm, indicating that Harry should sit in a nearby empty chair. "Yes, well, how are you, Harry?" Dawlish reclined in his chair, his fingers steepled as he contemplated Harry's face.

"I'm doing well, sir, just a little anxious, I suppose."

Dawlish allowed a small smile to creep along the edges of his mouth, "I know exactly what you mean. When I completed my training, I was bored stiff with the mundane jobs they handed out to me."

Harry's cheeks reddened a bit, realizing that Dawlish was spot on in his assessment of Harry's feelings.

"Well," the senior wizard continued, "I think it's time we offered you something a little more interesting." Harry was alert now, his eyes drawn up in anticipation. "We've had reports of someone using a banned Crucio curse up near Lochinver in northwestern Scotland."

Dawlish rifled through the stack of parchment strewn about his desk, "Here it is, a muggle was found wandering the Glencanisp Forest, the apparent victim of a Crucio charm. His rescuers, the man kept repeating, 'mudbloods, begone, stay away from the Gray Castle' Anyway, that's all we have, so far."

A nagging sense of dread started gnawing at the pit of Harry's stomach. He wasn't afraid of the assignment, the majority of the former Death eaters had been captured, exiled or killed, and there hadn't been a Dementer sighting in over three years, so the assignment itself seemed pretty straightforward. Harry's torment came from the knowledge of where this assignment was going to take him, which was the wild Highlands of northwest Scotland. There was no way, he thought, that he would be back in time to see Ginny when returned home.

"Sir, er, what is the assignment, exactly?"

"Well, Harry, you're to go up there, and identify who is using Unforgivable Charms. The Ministry has an office in Lochinver that is in the Floo network. Bring your broom, the forest where the man was found is in a remote area, east of the town. You'll have to find this 'Gray Castle' and see where it leads." Dawlish brought the parchment closer to his face, "There is a former Auror living up there, in Lochinver, name of Lachlan McCrory, he retired sometime ago and settled up that region. He may be able to help you."

Harry sat still, his mind racing as the wave of elation he'd been feeling, planning his reunion with Ginny had crashed to a halt based on the fact that he'd have to leave, before she got home.

"Alright Harry, anything else?" Dawlish stood up, and Harry stood up with him. "Right, off you go, I think you should go ahead and leave straight away."

"Yes sir, thank you sir." Sounding more enthusiastic than he really was, Harry shook Dawlish's hand and headed out to collect his things.

A little while later, Harry found himself coming off the elevator, heading out to the Floo Exits. As he was entered the main hall, he spied a familiar face near the fountain. Her familiar brown tresses were drawn up in a neat bun, Hermione Granger Weasley was stooped low, talking to a house elf in a rapid whisper. Abruptly, the elf raised both his hands in exasperation and apparated away. Hermione raised herself erect and stomped her foot in frustration. Harry couldn't help but smile, despite his despair.

"Trouble?" there was a twinkle in the way Harry asked the question.

"You have no idea! Really, why can't anyone see reason, just once." She rolled her eyes upward, shaking her head side to side. "It was easier knitting caps for them, then convincing them of their rights." Her anger slowly fading, Hermione was finally focused in on her friend, noticing that he was wearing his black travel robes. Looking further, she saw his Auror's traveling haversack over his shoulder and his broom in his hand. "Going somewhere, Harry?"

"Well, yes, they've given me my first solo assignment, I've heading up to Scotland to chase a Dark Arts mystery."

Hermione was elated, "Well done, Harry, your first job. Wait, isn't Ginny…"

Harry cut her off, "I know, I'm sick from it, but I don't know what to do." Hermione could see the pain in Harry's face.

"Don't worry, Harry, you'll be back in a flash, I'll tell Ginny what's what, okay?"

"I guess." Harry didn't really think that would do, but he didn't really have any choice.

"Look, Hermione, I've got to get going, tell Ron, hello, for me, and tell Ginny," Harry stumbled on what to say, "tell Ginny…"

"I will." As always, Hermione knew exactly what Harry was trying to say.

Harry headed over to a nearby alcove, where an ethereal greenish-purple flame was burning. He raised an arm in a farewell salute to his friend, and felt his body being whisked away.

I hope you all enjoyed. Feedback is appreciated.