Chapter Four

To the Ministry (May 3rd, 1998)

Hermione left to stay with her parents in their house before Ron and Harry returned to his room to sleep some more. The Granger family had much to catch up on and it was bittersweet to watch her go. Her parents spent longer with Ron than Harry, which seemed to make Ron feel better. It was obvious Hermione had told her mother much about her crush on Ron through the years. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley stayed up all night, busy with funeral plans for Fred.

It was difficult to sleep for the family ghoul that lived in the attic was banging on the pipes because it thought it was too quiet in the Burrow. At some point during the night Harry heard someone go up into the attic and stun the ghoul as gently as possible. It was considered more of a pet than a pest to the Weasleys. The ghoul had been moved back to the attic after it stayed in Ron's bedroom for most of the year. Ron's burnt orange posters of the Chudley Cannons were slashed and strewn all over the small space.

Ron woke Harry up at 6 o'clock that morning, grinning when Harry choked on the scent of Ron's aftershave, shampoo, and soap. His blood and dirt slipped off his skin while he soaked, turning the water a strange shade of pink. Voldemort's Cruciatus curse might not have affected him but he had bruises everywhere and many cuts from when Voldemort had tossed him in the air after he thought that Harry was dead. He was lucky to have walked away without any broken bones. Harry could finally look in a proper mirror and he understood Mrs. Weasley's concerns from yesterday.

Even after his first proper bath in months, Harry still looked drawn and pinched. Almost sickly. He could hardly distinguish his lips from his skin. He got dressed in another clean set of clothes. Harry then stepped out of the bathroom, closing the door on his confidence.

He hesitated entering Ron's bedroom when he heard quiet sobbing and Ron talking. Pressing his ear to the door, he thought the crier might be George. He thought he might have heard Mr. Weasley's voice as well. Not wanting to intrude, Harry diverted his path to the kitchen. The Burrow was quiet. It was odd but not unexpected.

Harry missed the old days when the house was filled with chatter. The grief that laid over the Burrow as well as in his own heart might get the better of Harry if he did not find an apartment of his own soon. He was swayed for a moment by who was in the kitchen.

"Good morning, Ginny." he smiled. "How are you doing?"

She looked quite annoyed. Ginny had bathed since the battle but she still looked very tired. Her eyes were puffy and pinked. She was sniffling quite a bit. Both of their voices sounded strange from shouting during the battle. She was one of the toughest people he ever knew.

She had suffered directly at the hands of Voldemort from a young age just as he had.

"Skeeter's article is front page," Ginny told him. "Oh, honestly! After everything you've done ... she chooses that photograph?"

Harry stooped to see the photograph and groaned. It showed him stumbling down the path and a security warlock helping Harry straighten back up. Because it was a magical photograph, that brief moment was being replayed in a loop.

"I don't even remember that." Harry itched the back of his neck, picking off chopped hairs.

"At least you didn't fall on your face." Ginny shrugged. "Hey, it can't be worse than the photos they got of Neville."

Harry looked where Ginny pointed and his brows jumped, "Damn."

Our Chosen One: Potter Sticks Close to Weasley Family

Harry Potter staggers out of the battlefield. The first notable change is his long black hair (that's gonna need to go!). It's clear that he has neglected more than just upkeeping his hair over the last year. The world-famous wizard, turning eighteen in about 3 months, obviously lacked an appetite on his search for what is rumored to be the Dark Lord's horcruxes ...

Harry did not care to read further. He knew Rita Skeeter's tactics. She was going to spin rumors that Harry was both mentally and physically unwell just as she has for many years.

"I can't believe the Daily Prophet let her run that photo," Ginny curled her lip, flipping the page and taking a furious sip of tea. "Here is the article about the muggle-borns coming out of hiding."

Reading it, Harry rested his head on one hand while feeding himself with his free hand. He felt rested but tired at the same time. He was daunted by what Kingsley might ask of him. He and Ron were due at the Ministry by 7 o'clock.

"I think I'll keep my hair long for a while just to spite Skeeter," Harry tried to cheer Ginny up.

Ginny shrugged but gave him a small grin, "You do look like a rock star like this. Rugged." She sighed, "I missed you so much."

Harry wanted to hold her and kiss away all of the pain she was suffering. Maybe it would help him feel better, too.

He sighed, "Ginny, come -"

"Good morning," said Ron as he entered the kitchen with George and his parents behind him. "It's 6:45. Mum reckons we better go now in case there's smedia traffic. Ready to go, Harry?"

Harry frowned up at him, "Aren't you going to have breakfast?"

"Not hungry." He shook his head, beckoning Harry to follow him to the fireplace.

Harry offered his half-eaten breakfast to Ginny and she accepted.

"See you in a bit," Harry told her and her parents.

"Dear, do you want me to cut your hair?" Mrs. Weasley asked him.

Ginny shared with them, "It's a form of protest."

"You've read the paper already," George nodded.

Harry smiled at them and said 'goodbye' again. He joined Ron standing before the hearth.

"So I'm taking it that the toilet-entry is a thing of the past?" Harry asked him.

Ron nodded, "Kingsley had it taken down yesterday."

Harry stepped into the hearth after Ron, wondering what kind of media chaos he would encounter at the Ministry.

He dumped the Floo powder at his feet, "Ministry of Magic!"

!*!

It was chaos. The Ministry of Magic was located beneath Whitehall in London. It had seven departments. Harry and Ron needed to reach the lifts to get to Level Two. The reporters followed them like a flock of mosquitoes, demanding and relentless.

"Mr. Potter!"

"Mr. Potter!"

"Are you heading to the Auror department, Mr. Potter?!"

"Mr. Potter, could you spare a moment?!"

"Are you our next Minister for Magic?!"

"Mr. Potter! Could you stand still for a photo?"

"Where did you go after the battle at Hogwarts?!"

Ron had to tell them to stop shoving and Harry refrained from pulling his wand out. It was strange to be able to walk through the Ministry even with a gaggle of reporters on his heels. The last time he had been there, he had gone under disguise. Kingsley Shacklebolt had been named interim Minister of Magic. Headquarters of the Aurors was located on Level Two of the Ministry of Magic around the corner from the lift past a set of heavy oak doors.

It was a large open area that consisted of several open cubicles for each Auror. The walls of which were papered with moving photos of Dark wizards, maps, and article clippings from the Daily Prophet. The photos of Harry and those allied to him were still being taken down as he and Ron passed through. They were shown in to the Head Auror office. Kingsley was a broad shouldered, tall, bald, black wizard who wore a single gold hoop earring. He smiled when he saw them enter and welcomed them calmly.

"Mr. Weasley. Mr. Potter."

"Minister," Harry shook Kingsley's hand.

"How are you both recovering?" Kingsley asked, narrowing his eyes at them critically.

Harry wondered why he felt like he had walked into a test.

Ron replied, "Still shaking it off."

"Understandable. Honest. Good. I am sorry for your losses."

Harry raised his brows, "I think if we had bounced back after one day, we'd have something seriously wrong with us."

Kingsley nodded, "Indeed."

He then moved to show them a list on a clipboard. There was a column labeled Deatheaters with names listed below, another column labeled Arrested, and a third labeled Eliminated. Harry couldn't help but notice that there were more checks under Eliminated.

"Twenty or more death eaters were eliminated in the Battle at Hogwarts," Shacklebolt relayed to them. "We are in process of arresting the rest that fled."

Harry held up a hand, "Wait, should you be telling us this? We're not Aurors."

"Yeah, Harry's here for the Minister post." Ron jested, to which Harry stomped on his foot.

Shacklebolt paused then grinned at Harry, "No Aurors have been taken on in years. So few were qualified." He furrowed his brows, "Mr. Potter, do I really need to spell it out for you? This career is tailor-made for you. It is yours if you'll have it. Mr. Weasley, I am requesting that you join, as well. Mr. Longbottom is filling out his uniform order as we speak."

Harry felt too overwhelmed by the moment to answer straight away. He resolved to watch Ron while he mulled it over. Ron had just lost a sibling. Harry wanted to avenge Fred's death as much as his best friend must. Ron was brave, stubborn, and more brilliant than he gave himself credit for.

He would make an excellent Auror. When Ron glanced down at him, Harry could only smile back reassuringly.

"I'll join," Ron said, sticking out his hand. "As long as the Ministry will stop lying through its teeth to keep the peace."

Harry nodded in agreement. Shacklebolt shook Ron's hand with a solemn smile and then held out his hand to Harry. Harry just looked down at it.

"As you may have heard, I was named Teddy's godfather. Lupin's son." Harry gave a small smile, "I want to be that for Teddy ... whatever Sirius Black was robbed of being for me. It has been a transformational experience. I only had myself to look after before. Now ... I have this little lad, too. He's going to be a big part of my life now. I'd want to be a dedicated Auror ... but I'm feeling conflicted, like I'm being unfair to Teddy ... risking my neck as my career."

Ron was staring down at him, "But, Harry ... he's not your kid. You can't wrap yourself in bubble wrap and avoid all trouble to be there for Teddy. You've got to live your life, too."

Harry knew Ron had a point but still felt conflicted. Teddy was not his own flesh and blood. But, he was his godson. Harry really didn't want to screw that relationship up again.

"Mr. Weasley is right. And I don't think you can risk your neck much more than you did when you broke into Grintgott's Bank a few days ago." Kingsley smiled kindly. "Harry, the decision is up to you. There have been plenty of families with members in the Aurors for many centuries. They made it work. After everything you've been through, I know you could find a way too."

Harry looked off at the enchanted window behind the desk while he made his decision. He wanted to be an Auror more than any other profession in the magical world. He would be a member of the elite unit of highly-trained, specialist officers dedicated to solving crimes of the Dark Arts. Kingsley was right ... this job was his destiny. With the help of his friends, Harry was widely credited for taking down the darkest wizard of all time.

"I am to revolutionize the Ministry. I need your help, Mr. Potter."

Harry had a lot of experience and knowledge to share. It was also one of the most dangerous jobs in the magical world. Harry would need to compromise by taking care of himself physically. Exercising, eating right, and sleeping well. This was what he would do for Teddy and for himself. Gritting his teeth, Harry turned back to the Minister.

"Count me in."