Disclaimer: Everything in this story belongs to the wonderfully talented and creative J.K. Rowling, except for the quick reference to Kelver, who was created by moi.

"People are always telling me that change is good. But all that means is that something you didn't want to happen has happened." - Meg Ryan

Kingsley started his way down the hallway, his dark eyes focused on the lifts at the far end; the plaques on the doors he passed seemed to be taunting him with their altered names, but he refused to look at them. No, instead he walked swiftly down the hall, stopped the lift with his hand before it closed, and squeezed his towering frame inside.

Shacklebolt honestly didn't know where he was heading; he just didn't want to stay still in Kelver's office. Staying still meant that he would have nothing better to do than dwell on the fact that he had been too late to save Scrimgeour, and that wasn't productive at all. So he had resolved himself to check some things out, gauge the changes that he already felt had been implemented, and figure out if there was a way to stop the Ministry from completely getting out of hand. There were only two problems: one, he didn't know where to start his search, and two, one of the paper airplane memos that normally darted across the ceiling was ramming its pointy paper nose into his shoulder.

"Ow," her murmured, swatting it away; he had always hated those things, preferring owls despite their inconvenience in the office. But the paper did not give up and zoomed its way annoyingly right in front of his face. It was then that he saw that on one of the folded wings was a messy scrawl bearing his name.

Frowning, he plucked the paper out of the air, smoothing out the lines as the disembodied elevator voice announced that they were passing Level 5. It didn't take him long to realize that it wasn't a Ministry of Magic Memo; for one, there was no watermark or heading. Instead, it seemed as if it was just a hastily scribbled note, which indeed it was.

Kingsley,

Firstly, thanks for the tip-off; Molly and I were able to help get most of the wedding guests from Fleur's side of the family on their way before the Ministry officials showed up. We lost a couple of members of our rather large family in the confusion, though I expect that they'll turn up soon. Anyway, I just want to invite you over for dinner to discuss those papers we were working on last Tuesday; Molly's making her world-famous pudding. I hope you can make it.

Arthur Weasley

Kingsley didn't know whether to smile or scowl. His Patronous had been received which was all in all good news, but the note had been extremely vague. Of course, he knew it had all been on purpose; if the letter had been intercepted by a Death Eater, it couldn't give too much away. But Kingsley knew exactly what it meant: The missing family members had to be Hermione, Ron, and Harry; after all, to the Weasley's all three were like their children, and Arthur had mentioned that Harry had been disguised as one of their cousins for the wedding anyway. As for the bit about going over some papers, that was a complete bluff. They had never discussed anything on Tuesday, and instead, Kingsley knew it as a blatant request to meet at the Burrow ASAP.

Kingsley folded the paper and put it in his trouser pockets, knowing his next destination was the Burrow. No one would mind him leaving; after all, he came in and out of the Ministry easily since his job was to tail to the Muggle Prime Minister.

But Kelver's taking care of him now, he thought, and I'll be back by time the procedure's done.

"Level eight, the Atrium."

The lifts opened and Kingsley got off as a witch with a very large hat dotted with peacock feathers made her way on. But immediately, he could tell something was wrong: The large Atrium was completely silent. Yes, there were people walking around attending to their daily business, but no one chatted with one another. In fact, they all seemed to be in a daze, their eyes all glued to the The Fountain of Magical Brethren … or what was left of it anyway.

"What the…" Kinglsey breathed, rushing forward. No more than an hour ago the fountain had been up and working – yes, a tad bit on the shabby side since the beating it had taken two summers before, but still standing. Now it was being deliberately taken apart. The goblin and centaur had already been dismantled, their golden bodies lying prone on the wooden floor in the center of the Atrium, and currently the young witch's head was magically being removed.

Kingsley rushed over to the small wizard brandishing the wands responsible for the destruction of the fountain. He was short and ferrety looking, with wispy grey hair and small eyes that kept glancing around the Atrium nervously, and was dressed in the navy blue robes of the wizards working in Magical Maintenance.

"Cattermole," Kingsley hissed. Reg jumped as he turned to face him, his face pale. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Thank God it's you, Kingsley," Reg sputtered, his words practically falling out of his mouth. "I thought for a second it was Y-Yaxley or something."

"Reginald," Kingsley continued sharply, "what are you doing to the fountain?"

"It was Thicknesse's orders. He stopped by my office and told me I had to take it down… Have you heard he's M.O.M. now?"

"Unfortunately," Kingsley mumbled, looking up at the demolished statue. The once proud fountain now laid in ruins, and Kingsley couldn't help but think it as some sort of strange metaphor to the way life in the wizarding world was becoming: distraught and destroyed. "Do you know why he wanted it gone?"

Reg shrugged. "Something about a new one statue, one that would signify how the wizarding world should be." He shook his head. "I was just shocked he'd become Minister that it took all of me just to keep focused."

Kingsley shook his head. "I know exactly how you feel." He put his hands in his pockets. "Well then, I guess I'll leave this to you, Cattermole."

"Where are you off to?"

"Er…" Kingsely murmured, "Pudding."

"Pudding?"

"Yes, I'm going to discuss some papers over pudding."

"Ah, I see," he murmured, though it was clear he was confused out of his mind, as if the thought of pudding in times like these was insane. "Well, then, goodbye Kingsley."

"Yes, bye."

Kingsley turned away from him and stormed the rest of the way across the Atrium, trying not to listen to the sounds of the statue being destroyed behind him and keeping his eye trained on one of the marble fireplaces out of the Ministry.

The Floo Network couldn't be trusted, not after what had happened with Scrimgeour, so Kingsley didn't dare take the fireplace straight to the Weasley's; there was too high a chance it was being monitored. But all the same, Kingsley grabbed a bit of floo powder off the dish by the mantle, sprinkled it in the flames, and let himself be whisked away, too obsessed with the deteriorating state of the Ministry to even care that he was about to end up in a muggle toilet.

Author's Note: Alrighty, I think we need an author's note because, well... It's been a year and I feel oh-so-very guilty that this took so long to write. School got in the way and it kinda got forgotten about and I give you all a HUGE apology!

Anyway, I meant for this chapter to be longer and to actually detail Kingsley's experience at the Weasley's, but I decided to save that part for next time. As for when it'll be up, I honestly don't know, but I hope it doesn't take another year.

Anyway, thanks to everyone who likes it so far! Please review and I'll try to get the next part up as soon as I can! Thanks!