Author's Note: This is my first fanfiction, so I'd appreciate reviews. Let me know what you think and feel free to give me any suggestions or constructive criticism. I've had this particular idea for a while – hope you like it!

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter – never have, never will. JK Rowling is a hero!


– CHAPTER TWO –

The Other Minister Again

A week later, the Prime Minister was cheerfully paging through the disaster-free newspaper when he heard a soft cough. When he had heard this cough on previous occasions, it had always made him nervous, making him wonder what new calamity the Other Minister was going to tell him about. This time, however, he had been anticipating it for a week, and was quick to answer.

"Hello, yes, I'll meet Kingsley."

The frog-like man in the painting looked approvingly at the Prime Minister. A few seconds later, a tall black man came into view, spinning rapidly within the green flames. Kingsley Shacklebolt stepped out of the fireplace, and the Prime Minister stepped forward to shake his hand.

"I must say, Kingsley, it is very good to see you again, and out of everyone that's come through that fireplace, you're the only one I've been able to say that to."

Kingsley laughed.

"It's good to see you too, Minister. It's also good to see that the Imperius curse that the Death Eaters put on you hasn't affected you too badly."

The Prime Minister looked at the other man, confused.

"What do you mean? What curse? I haven't been under any curse … Or have I?"

Kingsley looked at him with a grave expression on his face.

"The Imperius curse. It's an Unforgivable curse in our world, although the Death Eaters have been using it unceasingly for the past year. It allows a witch or wizard to control someone else's actions. Apparently a Death Eater Imperiused you after I went into hiding."

The Prime Minister looked horrified.

"They were controlling me? What did they make me do?"

Kingsley looked grim.

"By the looks of things, nothing too serious, thank goodness. Every time a Muggle was killed, they used you to fabricate cover-up stories for what actually happened and spread them about. I suppose they would have gotten rid of you had they gained full control of the Muggle world before last week."

The Prime Minister gulped.

"Gotten rid of me …"

Kingsley looked sheepish.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to put it quite like that, but yes. The curse you were under probably lifted because the Death Eater who cast it was obviously killed sometime during the Final Battle."

Kingsley looked at the Prime Minister, whose face had gone white when he had been told of the Imperius curse.

"Perhaps you'd like to sit down, Minister?"

The Prime Minister started.

"Oh, yes, perhaps I should. And I'm sorry Kingsley, how rude of me. Take a seat, and tell me what else has been going on. Sherry?"

Kingsley nodded, and the Prime Minister poured out two glasses from the decanter on the table. He handed one to Kingsley.

"Thank you. Well, first of all, I've been made Minister for Magic, which is why I'm currently the one liaising with you and – "

"You've been made Minister? That's fantastic, Kingsley! You'll be far more suited to the job than your predecessors seemed to have been."

Kingsley smiled.

"I'm glad to know you think so, Minister. Well, I was temporary last week, but as far as I've seen, political matters settle far quicker in our world than in yours, so my post was finalised three days ago. We've had quite a mess to fix, which is why I'm only coming to see you now."

"No, that's quite alright. But I would like to thank you for sorting out that conference problem. How did you get them all to forget about it? I walked into the boardroom and there was no-one there … When I phoned my secretary, she said I was meant to be playing golf."

"We have our ways," Kingsley said, grinning.

"Well, I can't really stay too long today, so let me get to the things that matter."

"Yes, yes, of course."

"Voldemort has been defeated, which you already know. What you don't know is that he has been defeated by Harry Potter and that most of the Death Eaters are either dead or captured. There are still a couple on the loose, but we'll get them within the next few days, now that the Ministry is fully within our control again."

"Hold on, Kingsley. This … Harry Potter, you said? I thought Fudge said he was just a boy?"

"He's seventeen, which means he's of age in our world, but yes, I suppose he is still a boy. I don't know how he managed it when no-one else could – he refuses to tell anyone – but I'm happy either way. He's an extraordinary person, and he, along with the friends who helped him, are currently heroes in the wizarding world."

The Prime Minister looked doubtful, as if the thought of a seventeen-year-old defeating such an evil person was a little far-fetched.

"So you're sure – you're sure then, that this Vold – what's-his-name – is really dead?"

"Yes, I am. We've checked the body to make sure. But there's more proof in that all the spells he cast on other wizards and witches have lifted."

Convinced, the Prime Minister leaned back in his chair and sipped at his sherry, feeling an overwhelming sense of relief.

"So that really does mean no more deaths … Alright, so what else?"

"We managed to avert a nasty situation with the goblins, thanks to some of our more skilled negotiators," Kingsley said, thinking of Bill Weasley and Minerva McGonagall. "We've modified the memories of all the Muggles who've survived any attacks of any kind, and we've been restoring Hogwarts to its former state."

"Hogwarts – that's a school, right? What happened to it that you have to restore it?"

"Hogwarts is one of the finest schools for magical folk in the world. The Final Battle took place at Hogwarts, for which reason it is also now known as the Battle of Hogwarts. Many parts of the school were severely damaged, and because it is a castle with ancient magic ingrained in the very walls, it needs extremely skilled wizards and witches to supervise its reconstruction at all times. We expect everything to be fully repaired by next month."

Kingsley paused to sip at his sherry, while the Prime Minister tried not to goggle at the thought of fixing a heavily damaged school – a castle, Kingsley had said – in a month.

"I'm afraid not everything is good news. The Muggles aren't the only ones who have suffered great losses.' And here, Kingsley gulped down the rest of his sherry and took a deep breath. 'Many great witches and wizards have lost their lives fighting Voldemort and his supporters. I, personally, have lost many good friends, and we believe that there are more victims that we haven't found yet."

Kingsley looked down at his now empty glass, and the Prime Minister looked at him with understanding. He knew, only too well, how Kingsley felt.

"I'm very sorry for your loss. I know what it's like."

Kingsley looked up.

"Thank you. We'll soon be having a memorial service for all those who died. But a little while after that, perhaps in another week or so, we were thinking of having a ceremony to celebrate the victory and honour those who fought, both living and dead."

There was a short silence. Then the Prime Minister spoke.

"Well, I think a victory celebration is a good idea. It will help lift spirits after everything that everyone has lost."

"Yes … yes, I think so, too."

The Ministers looked at each other for a moment in mutual understanding. Then Kingsley nodded and stood up.

"Well, that's about all the news I have right now."

"Wait, Kingsley. Isn't there anything I could do?"

"That's a good question. I haven't really thought about that, Minister, but if there is anything, I'll come and tell you later this week. Unfortunately, I have to go right now."

"Another meeting in your busy life – Minister?' the Prime Minister asked with a conspiring smile.

Kingsley grinned at him, thinking of everyone gathered around Molly Weasley's delicious lamb chops at the Burrow's dinner table.

"Yes … yes, I suppose you could say that."

The Prime Minister held out his hand.

"Well, I'm glad you could come by and tell me all of this. Good luck with putting everything right, Kingsley. Keep in touch, will you? I'd like to know what's going on in your world from now on, and that's not just when something bad happens."

Kingsley shook the proffered hand.

"Thank you, Minister. As to keeping in touch, we'll make sure to give you reports anytime something does happen – whether it's good or bad. We'll keep an Auror situated in your office for now, just in case – I'll send you details sometime tomorrow. Goodbye, Minister."

Kingsley stepped into the fireplace as the flames glowed emerald-green, and spun out of sight.

The Prime Minister went back to his chair and looked out the window. The sun was shining, the birds were singing. He picked up his newspaper and sighed contentedly – it was a wonderful day.