Kingsley's Request

Harry took a steadying breath as he heard George open the door and welcome the guests. Kingsley's low, rich voice thrummed in his ears as the shop door shut. His eyes turned, taking in Kingsley, broad-shouldered, the earring shining brightly in his ear against his dark skin. "Harry." He said the word in his rich voice and Harry knew without a doubt that Hermoine was right, again.

He reached forward and shook hands with Kingsley, for the first time noticing a thin, tall figure behind him. The man had a tired face, but one that seemed kind, although marred with a scar across the center of his face and nose all the way to other side. "Good to see you, Kingsley." Harry's eyes strayed again to the thin figure.

Kingsley released Harry's fingers and, turning, allowed the other visitor to step forward. The red, angry scar stood more livid against the paleness of his skin as the disfigured face broke into a smile. "This is Gavinclaw, Marcus Gavinclaw, the new Prime Minister."

Harry's eyes widened as the Prime Minister greeted him. The shrewd eyes smiled as he shook Harry's hand. "Must be a bit of a shock. Didn't expect to have a new Prime Minister so soon, did you?" He didn't wait to hear Harry's affirmation. "I've heard a good deal about you, Mr. Potter. The stuff of legends, you are, all that 'Chosen One' and stuff. Must be tired of hearing that by now?" He patted Harry's back. Then Kingsley and Marcus removed their rain-pelted cloaks. Turning back, Marcus asked, "Would you mind if we discussed this somewhere more comfortable?"

Harry wasn't sure exactly what to think as they all seated themselves around the table. He wasn't sure what the Ministry wanted, and he had not at all expected the new Prime Minister to show up on his doorstep and talk openly in front of everyone.

Marcus drank the hot cocoa that Luna gave as he made himself comfortable at the table. "Probably wondering what we want with you, Mr. Potter? Hmm…" He smiled at the look on Harry's face that confirmed this. "Just what we thought, isn't it, Kingsley?"

Kingsley laughed, "Yes, it is Marcus. Marcus is a dear old friend of mine, we were trained as Aurors together. Best in his class, year ahead of me," Kingsley explained.

Harry sipped his cocoa as he listened, fascinated, as they told their old stories. "Lost a piece of his buttocks, didn't he, Kingsley?"

The group erupted into laughter as Ron questioned, "Who?"

"Alastor, of course. 'Mad-Eye' Moody as he was known to you. He was young then. Good thing they had some dittany, though. Heard that story from our instructor. Moody wasn't too happy about that being told. Not too many people know. Good man, Moody was." The conversation fell into silence as Marcus drank another sip. "That's what brought me here, Mr. Potter."

Harry was confused. Moody was dead. He had seen the electric blue eye, known the awful truth. "What do you…err…mean?"

Kingsley cut in. "Moody told us both about you years ago. We knew after everything happened that we would have to rebuild." Harry felt a growing fear gnawing his stomach, knowing the question they had come to ask would soon be spoken. "The Ministry is in shambles ,Harry. We are rebuilding it from the ground up. Rebuilding each department, and that's why we've come."

Harry merely looked at him.

"We want you to join the reformed Aurors, Harry."

Harry's breath caught in his chest. He could feel the elation spreading in his body. This is what he had wanted. This was everything he had worked for in school, and he had thought he had lost it all, but now it was right here within his reach. Then the numb truth hit him. He couldn't do it. "I didn't graduate."

Marcus Gavinclaw laughed outright. "Mr. Potter! Do you seriously think something like that is even relevant? My God, no! Graduation and school will not be the chief concern for our new recruits. We want them with spirit and backbone. They don't have to have perfect talent, just potential. We want you to help us. We want you to help us recruit them, decide. You have made decisions far beyond those of someone your age. You have fought the greatest evil we have known and won. We want your talent, not your face, Mr. Potter." He smiled at Harry, having known exactly what he was thinking. "We, after all, are the new Ministry. Muggle born myself." He winked as he stretched into a standing position, as he and Kingsley grabbed their cloaks. "Need time to think, Potter? I completely understand."

Harry watched as Kingsley and Gavinclaw stood there waiting expectantly. This was it. Everything was falling into place. It felt oddly bizarre--dreamlike and unreal. He was about to attain the prize, and nothing was in his way. "I'll do it. Mr.--"

"Call me Marcus or Gavin, Mr. Potter." He smiled triumphantly. "I'm sure you'll want to help at Hogwarts, as do we all. We're getting along rather well right now. Could you possibly report to work in…say a week or so?"

"Yes…err…Marcus."

"Splendid! Pleasant to meet you, Mr. Potter. Give Aberforth my greetings." He turned to look at Ron. "Mr. Ronald Weasley?" Ron turned toward him. "I'll expect you to be there too."

"What?" "You do want to be an Auror, don't you?" Ron nodded his head vigorously. "Then report when Mr. Potter comes. We need men like you two. And Ms. Granger, we have a job we would like for you to attend to. Come see me about the details." He turned and made his way to the door.

Hermoine launched herself into Ron's arms excitedly. As the rest of the party made their goodbyes, Harry stood there, feeling the small hand on his arm…Ginny.

She was smiling up at him. "Oh, Harry!" she whispered urgently to him as her eyes examined his face. "It's what you wanted."

Harry smiled down at her. "Yes, yes it is."