Chapter Four

When Ron asked Hermione how it had been actually seeing Harry, she hadn't been able to formulate an appropriate response. The truth was that it seemed to have affected her more than she thought it would. Seeing him had stirred up all sorts of different
feelings, ranging from blind rage to utter relief. She had fought with herself, forcing herself to stay put even though she wanted to fling her arms around him or kick him as hard as she could between the legs.

"Strange," Hermione concluded.

Ron could almost understand that. When he had gone in to deliver the letter from the Minister of Magic, all Harry had done was stare.

"Minister Shacklebolt is expecting you Monday morning," Ron said. "I would suggest you be there." That was all he decided to say. When he turned to leave, Harry called him back.

"It's nice to see you, Ron."

Ron bit back a nasty remark. Instead, he rolled his eyes. "Sure. Whatever, Harry." And then he left.

Ron and Hermione arrived back in the Ministry, both lost in their own emotions about seeing their once best friend. Each of them retreated to their own spaces to deal with the aftermath of the meeting. Ron sat in his cubicle in complete silence and thought
hard. He had so many memories of his best friend, and they were all coming back to him, thick and fast. It was all a little too much to think about.

Hermione sat in her own office, her own feelings threatening to consume her. Ron had always mentioned that she had unresolved feelings for Harry, and she hated to admit that he was right. Seeing him had turned her into a teenage girl. He was the famous
wizard all over again, mysterious and untouchable. She was just mightily proud that she had managed to get through the entire conversation without the mixture of emotions getting the better of her.

Monday would come and Harry would enter the Ministry for the first time in goodness knows how many years. Then she would confirm her theory about his loss of magic and, hopefully, reverse it.

Only, Harry did not show up. Kingsley waited until noon before he sent Ron's team to retrieve the once hero of the Wizarding world.

"Bring him in. Unwillingly, if you have to."

It was a command that left Ron feeling a bit uncomfortable but he was not one to disobey a direct order. When they arrived at the bakery; Harry didn't look the least bit nervous. It was almost as if he had expected them; even wanted them to fetch him.

"You weren't kidding, were you?"

Ron didn't look amused. "Let's go."

Even though Dean and Seamus dragged Harry out of the bakery, he did allow them to. There was no fight. He just seemed entirely amused by it all; as if he were enjoying all the attention a little too much. Ron Apparated side-along with Harry, right into
Kingsley's office.

"Ooh," Harry sounded, looking at Ron. "You must be quite important, being able to Apparate right into the boss' office and all?"

Ron just kept his eyes facing the Minister of Magic, who was seated at his desk, looking expectantly at the green-eyed boy. Man.

"Ah, Mr Potter," Kingsley said. "How nice to see you."

Harry said nothing as he stepped away from Ron and claimed a chair opposite Kingsley's desk.

"Thank you for joining us."

"I didn't really have much choice, now did I?"

Kingsley smiled. "You always have a choice, Harry Potter. You know that."

Harry sneaked a look at Ron. Then he looked back at Kingsley. "I assume you want something from me then."

Kingsley nodded. "We've always wanted something from you, Harry. You know that. We cannot have a Muggle being in possession of the Deathly Hallows. It is as simple as that."

Harry could feel Ron look at him, somewhat accusingly, but he kept his eyes on Kingsley. "I already told you that I destroyed the Elder Wand, and I dropped the Resurrection Stone in the Forbidden Forest."

"And I already told you that I'm talking specifically about the Cloak of Invisibility."

"Why? Are you looking to evade death, Mr Shacklebolt?"

"The Cloak, Harry."

All of this was news to Ron, and he wasn't sure what to do with the new information.

Harry shook his head. "It's mine," he said strongly. "It belonged to my father, and to his father before that. I do not care if I am no longer a wizard; the Cloak will forever remain in my family."

Kingsley also shook his head. "I have allowed you to live with it for many years, Mr Potter, but I'm afraid that time has come to an end. It is my understanding that you have no intention of meeting with Miss Granger regarding her discovery. Is that correct?"

Harry didn't respond.

"I do hope you'll consider. If you regain your magic, the Cloak shall remain with you. If not, you will return it to the Magical world."

Harry looked at Ron. "Why can't I just give it to him?"

Kingsley and Ron exchanged a look. "I'm afraid it doesn't work that way," Kingsley said.

Harry sat back in his chair. "You and I both know that anything you say to me will not get me to hand it over to you. It's as simple as that."

"Where is the Cloak, Mr Potter?"

"If you expected that I would have it with me, you're wrong," Harry said. "It isn't exactly something a Muggle just carries around with him, you know?"

"Tell me where it is."

Harry shook his head. "You want me to be all magical again then?" he sounded, only slightly annoyed at the round about nature of this conversation. "Let me speak with Hermione. Maybe we can work something out, right? Because, I swear, that Cloak isn't
leaving my family. You'll have to pry it from my cold, dead hands. And, I'd warn you, wizard or not, I've faced things far scarier than you and your Ministry."

Kingsley seemed to consider this. "Fine. Consult with Miss Granger."

Harry sat up straight. "You don't think I can get my magic back, do you? You've always known it would never return, haven't you?"

Kingsley said nothing.

"Oh, wait, you're hoping I don't get it back. You're hoping Hermione's got it all wrong, because then you're really going to have a problem on your hands. You were so worried before. Gosh, isn't now the time to be worried?"

Ron listened to the conversation, trying his best not to look too interested. It was all just a little confusing. What were the two of them talking about, and yet not talking about at the same time?

"Well, why don't we just give it a go anyway?" Harry said, getting to his feet. "Whatever you need the Cloak for must be pretty important. Maybe it's best I let you sweat it out, right?"

Kingsley clenched his jaw. "We've come so far, Mr Potter."

"I know, Mr Shacklebolt. Don't get me wrong, I strongly appreciate everything you've ever done for me and this new Ministry, but you had to know I wouldn't give up the Cloak for anything. There is a reason you want it and you're failing to tell anyone
about it. I'm sure even Mr Weasley has no clue. So, until you can be straight with me, it will remain where it is. So let's quit all the Muggle antics then, why don't we?"

Kingsley tilted his head. "Mr Weasley, escort our mutual friend, Mr Potter here, to Miss Granger's office, if you would? Stay near, in case you're needed. I want a progress report by the end of the day."

Ron practically pulled Harry to his feet and dragged him out of the Minister's office. Once they were out of earshot, Ron rushed his words.

"You've got a fine set of balls on you, Potter, talking to our Minister like that," he said, leading the way to the elevators. "What the hell were you two going on about anyway?"

Harry looked at Ron as they walked. "Do you really have no idea?"

Ron didn't warrant the question with a response.

Harry sighed. "It's better you not know, Ron. Honestly. I wish I didn't even know."

Ron couldn't help but feel a bit confused. There had to be something he was missing. What was all this sudden interest with the Cloak of Invisibility anyway, and why wouldn't Harry be willing to hand it over when asked? He suspected that there were things
in play that were beyond his pay grade, but his unease couldn't be denied. What did it all have to do with Harry?

The two boys found Hermione in her office. She was poring over a case file, looking as focused as ever. Both of them knew that look well. They'd spent some seven years marveling at her ability to lose herself in the written word.

Hermione was almost shocked by the sight of the two of them. She immediately rose to her feet, her eyes darting from boy to boy.

"I didn't think you were coming," she said to Harry.

He shrugged, before he made his way further into the office. "My escort here didn't really give me much of a choice," he said, referring to Ron. "And plus, if I intend to keep hold of my own possessions, I've got to hear you out."

That sentence confused Hermione, who looked at Ron for clarification but all he did was shake his head.

"Mind if I sit?" Harry asked, already moving to sit in one of the armchairs in front of Hermione's desk. "I do love what you've done with the place," he added once he was settled. "It's a little smaller than I imagined it would be, but I guess I was always
a dreamer." He laughed even though nothing was funny. His words carried with them hidden meaning and snarky connotation. It was as if he was determined to anger them. He was succeeding.

Ron cleared his throat. "I'll be right outside if you need me."

Hermione wanted to ask him to stay but, by the time she opened her mouth to speak, he was already out the door.

Harry smiled. "I guess it's just you and me." Then, more seriously: "Kind of like fourth year all over again, isn't it?"

Hermione returned to her seat and pushed aside all her other work. In a drawer to her right, she retrieved the Potter, Harry file she kept as her personal collection of Harry related information. Recently, there hadn't been much to add. But now she was
looking right at him.

"Is that me?" Harry found himself asking, his curiosity getting the better of him.

Hermione nodded. "Everything I could figure out about your time away."

"Anything interesting?"

"You visited Peru." It was a statement, not a question. It was a fact she knew to be true.

He nodded. "I did indeed visit many places. Didn't have access to a Portkey. I'll have you know that flying in an aeroplane is incredibly stifling. They literally pack people like sardines."

Hermione didn't want to participate in casual conversation, mainly because they weren't those kinds of friends anymore. She needed to remain professional and he wasn't making it easy.

"You don't really appreciate being able to Apparate until you can't anymore."

Hermione imagined that to be true. Apparition was one of the more useful attributes of being a witch. There were, of course, many others, but who was counting?

Harry sat back. "So how do you suppose you're going to fix me?" he asked.

"I thought you were the one who said you didn't need fixing."

Harry pretended to think hard about that. "You know, you are right! I did say that, didn't I? So what am I doing here then?"

The silence that followed wiped the smirk right off Harry's face. His own thoughts were taking him dangerously close to an emotional vulnerability he wasn't yet ready to expose.

"I'm curious, Hermione," Harry said seriously. "Why did you bother to keep searching for a way to get my magic back after all this time; after the way I've treated you?"

Hermione had to admit that she spent many nights thinking about an answer to this very question, and she still had no suitable response. What she felt seemed irrelevant. It was about the work. "It was a puzzle I had to figure out," she told him, somewhat
truthfully. "And now I have."

"Are you sure about that?"

The way he asked the question made her think that he must have known more about his own situation than he would like her to know. She supposed that he had figured things out about himself over the years. She would definitely have to run a series of tests
on him. But then again, that wasn't her Department either. And she had more pressing cases to which she had to attend.

"So, I always thought I'd find you and Ron together, even married," he said. "Maybe even a kid already. But, nothing. What happened?"

Hermione didn't want to get anywhere near that topic of conversation.

"Please say that it had nothing to do with me," he said, sounding a bit sad about it. "You know that's the last thing I wanted."

"You didn't really care about the lot of us by the end, did you?"

Harry's hands fidgeted in his lap, the facade slowly slipping away. "Of course I did."

"Not enough to say goodbye. Not even enough to let us know that you're okay; that you're alive."

Harry looked at her. "You're mad. You have every right to be."

"Of course I do! I just wish that you had said goodbye."

Harry leaned forward. "But, Hermione, I did say goodbye."

She frowned, silently asking the question of what he was possibly talking about.

His eyes drifted towards a spot on her desk, where she kept a collection of trinkets. Some of them were deeply meaningful and some others were meaningless things she had accumulated over the years. Despite that, all of them were important to her. Even
the one she had found in the trunk she kept at the Burrow the Christmas she discovered Harry to be gone. Until that very moment, she had thought it purely coincidence that she would find a perfect Phoenix feather among her things.

Hermione's eyes widened. "The feather? That was you?"

Harry didn't answer her query. "I'm sorry about you and Ron," he said instead. "It seems he's found someone though. Ginny as well. Why haven't you?"

There was a little too much going on for Hermione to sift through. The feather. Harry had said goodbye in his own way; a way that meant he didn't have to explain himself. And, how on earth did he know about Ron? Or her? Or Ginny?

"I spotted some flowers," he continued. "It seems to me that Cormac hasn't dropped his fascination."

"Why are you so interested in all of that?" she found herself asking. "Are you trying to tell me that you've found someone?"

Harry sat back, weighing his options. "As a matter of fact, I have." That was all he would say.

Hermione just managed to keep the surprise off her face, even though she was certain she felt something twist within her. It was a strange sensation, and she had absolutely no idea where it came from.

"Now, where do you want to start with this whole regaining of my magic thing?"

Hermione checked the time. "I was actually expecting you earlier. I have things scheduled for this afternoon. You should have called."

That garnered a trademark - yet unseen - smirk from Harry. "Perhaps another time then."

Hermione looked into his green eyes and saw the person she knew. He was in there, hiding himself for some reason. Somehow, she would have to get him out to help him; to get the magic back. But she wasn't ready for it today. Being alone with him was too
overwhelming. "Perhaps."

As if sensing an end to proceedings, Hermione's office door opened to reveal Ron, as stoic as ever. "You signalled?" His attention was on Hermione.

"We're done for today."

Ron didn't ask any questions of her in Harry's presence. Instead, he arranged for Dean and Seamus to accompany Harry back to the bakery.

Harry tipped his head in Hermione's direction. "Until next time, Miss Granger." Then in Ron's direction: "Auror Weasley." And then he was whisked away.

Once Harry was gone, Ron made quick work of retrieving his wand from his wrist holster and muttering wards to give himand Hermione some privacy within her office. Hermione didn't think it was weird, just unusual. They hadn't been alone in a concealed
room since before their relationship ended.

Ron rushed his question. "Did Harry say anything to you?"

Hermione frowned, wary of the severity of Ron's tone. "Umm, you'll probably have to be a bit more specific with your question, Ronald. We talked about a lot of things."

Ron raised his eyebrows. "Okay, in your endless conversation with Harry, did he happen to mention anything to do with the Cloak of Invisibility?"

Before she asked her own question, she answered his. "No, he didn't. What's all this about, Ron?"

He moved to sit down in the chair Harry had recently vacated. "I don't know," he admitted. "Something just isn't right about all of this. Harry knows something. Kingsley is up to something."

"Why wouldn't he tell you?"

Ron shook his head. "Again, I have absolutely no idea."

Hermione had never once doubted Ron's ability as an Auror and she was not about to start. If he thought something was amiss about their lives, then there had to be something off. "What do you think Harry knows?"

Ron sat forward. "My gut is telling me that whatever he knows is the reason he left."

Hermione wasn't as shocked as she thought Ron figured she would be. In fact, that made a lot more sense to her. Harry usually had a reason for everything, and his reasons very rarely involved himself.

"I know what I'm about to say sounds crazy but," he hesitated; "I think that the Order might have had something to do with Harry losing his powers."

Hermione just stared at him. "Ronald, that's absurd!"

"Is it, Hermione? Is it really?"

"Listen to what you're suggesting. Honestly. You do realise who is in the Order, right? We're talking about people who fought with us against Voldemort. What reason would they have?"

"I don't know," he said. "And I did say it would sound crazy. Look, I think that something happened, and there is so much that Harry knows and never bothered to tell us."

"That seems to be a trend," she muttered, replaying her conversation with Harry. "He knew about us, you know?" she informed him.

"Us?"

"That we dated, and that we stopped. He knows we're not together anymore."

Ron nodded. "I don't think that's the biggest news, Hermione. He could have figured that out in a number of ways."

"When he asked me about you and the Weasleys and Neville and Luna the other day; he acted like he had absolutely no idea how they were. But today, today was different. He knew about me, and about you, and about Ginny. He knew things. Like he's always
known."

Ron frowned. "But how?"

Hermione just shook her head.

He cleared his throat. "Hermione, I think that we need to talk to Harry."