Well, this really shouldn't surprise anyone … I don't own the Harry Potter characters. Phew, that's a load of my chest.

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Chapter 11. Weatherby Weturns

For a half-second, Harry panicked as he felt someone grab his wrist and wrench his arm. But just before he fought the grasp, the voice – warning the book could be a Portkey, his brain supplied – registered as being Arthur's.

The approaching stranger quickly realized he needed to change tactics, and he threw the book at Harry, perhaps thinking the boy would try to use his hand to deflect it. Instead, Harry turned his body so the book bounced off his back and fell harmlessly to the floor. The move made his arm twist funny – Arthur was still holding his wrist after all – and he jerked it away so he could grab his wand.

Harry's sudden moves caused Arthur to lose his balance and stumble away as he fought to stay standing. It had happened in less than a second, but it was long enough. Arthur's attention had been diverted away from the stranger, who was already holding his wand. Even as Harry was reaching into his pocket for his own wand, Arthur's was wrenched away, leaving the patriarch defenseless.

To Harry, the next seconds lasted hours … he had his wand in his hand, he was pulling it up and spinning back around to face the attacker … who was shouting the unmistakable 'avah-' sound that began the Killing Curse.

Instead of freezing in terror, as he'd done in this same place to those same words once before, he sprang into action. He scanned the area for anything he could use to block the spell. His eyes landed on the book, but as it was most likely a Portkey, he was hesitant to use it. Instead he silently prayed that this didn't hurt the man, and turned his wand on Arthur, shouting "Expelliarmus!" as he did so. The spell had the effect he remembered from the Dueling Club, and even though Arthur wasn't holding a wand, his body was flung away from Harry and therefore out of the path of the green light.

Harry didn't see Arthur's fate. He'd already turned his attention and his wand to the Death Eater. He wasn't fast enough.

Another voice, from the direction of the gate, was shouting "Petrificus Totalus", and Harry jumped backward, certain he was being attacked. Across from him, the Death Eater made a similar move and the curse narrowly missed him, hitting an unprepared bystander. Not deterred, the Death Eater threw a curse in the general direction of the voice as he dropped to the ground.

His spell sizzled out as it hit a wall, not that he cared. He was already taking aim at Harry, but the young man hadn't been standing idle. Just as the attacker started another curse Harry's second Disarming Spell hit its target, and the Death Eater's wand flew into the crowd.

But the Death Eater had two advantages. First, being on the ground made him a hard-to-find target, meaning the unknown Samaritan by the gate was out of helping range. And second, he didn't really need his wand for what he was trying to do. With a lunge, he snatched up the book in what Harry could now see was a gloved hand, and with his other hand he grabbed Harry's ankle, toppling the boy as he jerked him closer.

Harry hadn't been expecting the physical attack. His body slammed into the hard marble floor, only luck keeping him from cracking his head as Ron had done. But luck runs both good and bad – his funny bone smacked the ground, causing his hand to spasm and his wand to fall free and roll away. Harry didn't have a chance to go after it though; the attacker was pulling Harry to him. He saw the man holding the book tightly as he fought to bring Harry closer, and Harry knew that when he was close enough, the man planned to touch the book to his skin, sending him on a one-way trip to Voldietown.

Fear and anger spurred Harry back to action, and he kicked out with his free leg while trying to pull his trapped leg free. But the Death Eater held the advantage, and Harry's efforts had little result as he slowly lost ground on the slippery floor, inching closer and closer to the Portkey. In fact, in his attempts to kick the attacker's head, his robes and trousers had ridden down, exposing part of the calf on his free leg. As soon as he'd noticed, Harry dropped his leg, hoping his trousers would fall back into place and protect his skin. Had the man been paying attention, he could have easily touched the book to Harry's bare flesh, but he'd been so focused on the leg he had imprisoned that he'd missed his opportunity.

Two things were abundantly clear to Harry: he couldn't risk exposing his own skin, and the book was the immediate threat. A change in tactics was in order. Instead of aiming his kicks at the attacker's head – which gave gravity its chance to attack his trousers again – he aimed for the book itself. A hard enough kick should send the book flying backward. With all the force he could muster, he shoved the heel of his foot out, making contact with the hand holding the book. His aim was dead on, and as the attacker grunted from pain, the cursed book sailed away from the two struggling bodies, landing with a dull thud out of Harry's line of sight.

Now that the immediate threat was neutralized, Harry was able to turn back and grab for his wand, which rolled into his outstretched hand. Adrenalin pumping, he sat up to go on the offensive when suddenly the Death Eater's grip on his ankle went slack. Shocked, Harry looked up and saw the determined face of Percy Weasley standing over them, his wand still pointed at his father's would-be killer. Beyond him, Harry could see Arthur was bent over the knocked-out Ron.

Harry mumbled a quick thank-you to Percy, having trouble believing the identity of his savior. He was reaching to accept Percy's help up when, out of the corner of his eye, he saw the unthinkable. Someone from the crowd – a woman, judging by the long curly hair that was visible – had bent down as if to pick up the innocent looking book. Harry yelled "stop", but it was already too late. Her hand came in contact with the book, and in a heartbeat she was gone. In a wave of sympathy, Harry knew it was unlikely she would ever be seen or heard from again. He was distantly aware that someone had started wailing "no…no…no" in the background, the woman's friend or family no doubt, but he ignored the calls. He needed to check his own family just now.

He made his way over to the others, Percy falling in beside him. By now Ron had been roused, and he was standing on wobbly legs next to his father. Percy was saying something, but Harry was doing an excellent job of tuning him out as he gave Arthur a quick once-over. To his immense relief, he hadn't harmed the man.

It was an insistent tapping on his shoulder that brought him out of his musings. A solidly-built man dressed in Auror's robes was standing next to him, obviously trying to get his attention. Glancing around, Harry found that Aurors had swarmed the area. One of them had placed a ring of fire around his little group, keeping the horde of onlookers away, while another was dealing with their assailant.

The Auror at Harry's side, who couldn't have been more than a dozen years older than Harry himself, was openly gaping at him with a look of adoration that made Harry want to vomit. Luckily, the man was being called away by a familiar voice.

"Christie, why don't you help Proudfoot take the prisoner to interrogation," Tonks said, and it was clear to both Harry and the Auror that, despite her phrasing, this wasn't a question. "Go on, you. I'll hand this lot." When the man had moved away, she leaned close to Harry and explained, "You've got to forgive him. He finished Auror training one point above failing, so they sent him to the Yard. Made him Magical Liaison – he was supposed to help uncover when magic was involved in Muggle crimes. He transferred back to us three days ago. I guess in times like these, they need every body they can get." With a wink she added, "I figured I'd better send him on his way before he asked for an autograph."

Looking over her shoulder, she told the nearest Auror she would escort Harry's group to the first aid station to be checked over, casually adding that she might as well get their statements while they waited. Harry wasn't sure if Tonks actually had the authority to make such a decision, but the no one seemed to object. But then, chaos reigned in the lobby and the Aurors needed to manage the crowd before a riot broke out, so they were probably just relieved to have one less hassle.

Tonks took the lead, with Harry and Arthur supporting Ron between them. Percy brought up the rear, walking a few steps back, as if he wasn't sure he should be there but he didn't want to stay behind. The trip to the infirmary was refreshingly uneventful. Tonks must have had on her most intimidating face, Harry reasoned, because no one they passed dared to try to speak to any of them. So other than Arthur's quiet words of comfort to his son, they walked in silence.

Once they'd arrived, Arthur stayed with Ron while he was looked over by the Ministry Nurse. Harry and Percy seated themselves in the rickety wooden chairs in the waiting area, where Tonks took down their accounts of the attack. Percy reluctantly admitted that he hadn't been in the lobby by chance; he'd heard Ron had passed his test and he wanted to congratulate him. This surprised Harry, for until this very moment he had been under the impression that Percy was still being a git and refusing to acknowledge he even had a family.

When she was done, Tonks had each of them sign her parchment. Arthur and Ron, having finished with the Nurse and seeing they were finished, walked over and let them know that Ron had been deemed good as new.

"Well, at least as close to good as he could get," Harry pointed out.

"Good one, Harry," Tonks agreed, openly laughing. Ron tried his best to look offended by the comment; Arthur chose that moment to turn his attention to a nearby potted plant. Percy was looking around the group frowning, but he didn't comment.

Tonks, perhaps sensing the family's need for privacy, quickly made her excuses and left.

Now that it was just the four of them, Harry dropped back into his chair and picked up a decidedly uninteresting magazine, giving the three Weasleys as much privacy as he could in the small, cluttered room. There was an awkward air to the room; Percy clearly wasn't comfortable speaking with the other two. For his part, Arthur was doing his best to be politely patient and let Percy make the first overture, but his desire to grab his prodigal son into a manly hug was evident on his face. Eventually, Percy cleared his throat and offered his congratulations to his brother.

Ron surprised Harry, who had expected his friend to rebuff 'the pompous arse', as Ron often referred to Percy. But instead, he had accepted the accolades and responded by asking how work was going. His demeanor reminded Harry of how the Upper-Year Gryffindors spoke to the Lower-Years – the ones you didn't really know, but you were nice to anyway just because they were in your House.

Unfortunately, for all his apparent concern, Percy was wasting his opportunity to make amends, and all too soon the small talk had run dry and a heavy silence filled the waiting room. Being to feel uncomfortable, Harry put everyone out of their misery by commenting that they should get going. He stood and said a brief goodbye to Percy, thanking him again for the help. He had moved to the door, Ron and Arthur following, when Percy finally broke.

Stepping in front of his father, he asked, "How has Mother been? … I heard she was feeling under the weather a few months ago."

Arthur smiled as he replied, "She's just fine, Percy. She just had a touch of food poisoning. Swears it's the last time she's eating anything Aunt Muriel bakes. However did you hear about that?"

"Oh, well," he stuttered out, looking uncomfortable to admit, "I was shopping in … Diagon Alley … when I happened to overhear the twins talking. I couldn't help but listen to them."

Ron openly laughed at that, "You … prim and proper Percy …were shopping at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes? What, feeling nostalgic for a ton-tongue toffee?"

Arthur turned his attention to his youngest son, "Hush Ronald," he said in gentle rebuke, "your brother is perfectly within his rights to, ah, overhear the twins talking." Turning back to Percy, he smoothly continued, "You know son ... we still have dinner at 6:00, and your Mother still cooks enough to feed an army. Why don't you drop by tonight, and you can see for yourself that she is fine? It's probably been a while since you've had a real home-cooked meal ... I think she's even making rhubarb crumble for pudding."

"That always was my favorite." Percy replied with a distant look in his eyes. He appeared to be fighting an internal battle before finally saying, "I … yes, I would like to come for dinner."

"Wonderful. Simply wonderful. Well … we had best let you get back to your work. I know how the Minister's staff depends on you." Reaching out, he gently patted Percy's arm as he added, "We'll see you tonight son."

Percy nodded once before shuffling past everyone to head down the hall. He glanced back a few times, as if to confirm that the conversation had really taken place, and each time he looked back, his father smiled and nodded.

When Percy had turned the corner, Arthur turned to the others and reminded them they should also be going. He was wearing the biggest grin Harry had ever seen. As they walked down the hall, Arthur leaned toward his son, "Do me a favor, Ron, and tell your Mother I'd really like a rhubarb crumble tonight, would you? But don't tell her why. I don't want to get her hopes up, in case he changes his mind."

When they reappeared in the lobby, now cleared of any sign of the earlier trouble, Harry scanned the area and instantly spotted the tall man dressed in burgundy robes he'd chosen earlier. To telegraph his intent, he slowed to a snail's pace and made eye contact. The reporter read the invitation for what it was, and gracefully wound his way through the crowd to come up to Harry's side.

"Quark Quilty, Mister Potter," he stated, holding out his hand. "So honored to finally meet you. I freelance for the Daily Prophet and the Wizarding Wireless Network, among others. Mind if I ask you a few questions?" He spoke quickly, as if reciting a speech he'd given many times.

Harry stopped walking and accepted his hand, silently praying that he played his part well. He smiled shyly and addressed the man, "I don't actually have the time for an interview, Mister Quilty. My friend and I have some celebrating to do – he just earned his Apparition License you see, and that little incident earlier has put us rather behind schedule. But maybe I can answer a quick question or two."

"Oh, well, congratulations Mister … Weasley, is it?" Quilty didn't really seem to listen to Ron's reply, beyond seeing him nodding in agreement. Instead, he was busy conjuring a plain wooden lectern, upon which he placed his parchment. Harry was pleased to note that the only thing special about his quill was that it was self-inking. Seeing Harry's gaze, he chuckled as he explained that real journalists take real notes. "Two questions only, huh? I better make them good, now hadn't I? First off, who do you like for Minister?"

Harry couldn't help but smile; this was going exactly how Albus had predicted. "You would start with a hard one, wouldn't you? Well … let me start by saying that I think several of the nominees are more than capable. Wentlock seems to know a great deal about our laws … but I do wonder if he spent too much time agreeing with Fudge to be able to make a decision for himself."

Harry cracked a smile at Quilty's smirk. Seeing him finish writing, Harry continued. "From what I hear, Dirk Cresswell is the best Head of the Goblin Liaison Office we've ever had. I've tried to make sense of the history between wizards and goblins, and frankly I have a tough time of it. So anyone that can really span the rift between us must be nothing short of brilliant. While I find him to be an honest man, and I think he could make a decent Minister, I think he has already found his true calling, and that it would be a shame for him to leave that spot to someone less qualified."

He stopped for a moment to catch his breath, and to let Quilty catch up in his notes. Out the corner of his eye, he could see Skeeter trying to get his attention, but he pointedly ignored her presence as he continued, "My money's on Bluestreak. He's got a proven track record of being honest and fair. And that's fair to all, from the most talented wizards and witches to the lowliest squib. He treats his subordinates with the same respect he shows his equals. My friend Dobby – he's a house-elf – tells me that's a rare and special quality in a wizard." He stopped for a second as his eyes glanced at an amused Ron. "Bluestreak's well respected by his co-workers. He's been a substitute Professor at Hogwarts, so you know he's smart. Beyond that, he doesn't buy into the elitist rhetoric that Voldemort and his kind promote. As a wise woman once said, blood doesn't make the wizard, magic does."

Quilty glanced up at Harry as he continued to write. "Who said that?"

"Rowena Ravenclaw, but surely that wasn't what you wanted to ask." - 'thank-you Hogwarts: A History!'

Knowing he was being teased, he grinned as he responded, "Actually, I noticed you didn't mention Acting Minister Thicknesse. Care to say why?"

"I'd love to tell you what I think of Pius Thicknesse, but I understand young children listen to the WWN, so you wouldn't be able to repeat it." Harry was laughing as he said this, but he meant it nonetheless. "Seriously, I don't know much about Thicknesse before he got his promotion a year ago. But I met the man at the end of June when I had to give a statement, and I was less than impressed. Several times during our brief meeting, he appeared flustered, as if he wasn't sure what he was doing. He even proved himself to be ignorant of the laws he claims he upholds. You see, Mister Weasley here – that's Arthur Weasley – was kind enough to act as my advocate at the interview, which Thicknesse argued was not allowed, even though the law clearly does just that. Looked it up myself … it's in section 127, paragraph seven, of the Code for the Under-Aged."

"I'll be sure to look that one up, Mister Potter," Quilty said with a wink. Claims that the Head of Magical Law Enforcement tried to deny an underage wizard proper representation were sure to up his fee, especially when the underage wizard was a certain Boy. "Now, what can you tell me about the attack earlier?"

"I'm sorry, but I really do have to be going. Perhaps Mister Weasley would be willing to speak more with you after he sees us safely through the Floo?" Harry's question caught Arthur by surprise, but the man graciously agreed.

He and Ron started toward the nearest fireplace when Rita Skeeter nosed her way into the group. "Potter," she began in a demanding voice, "what do you have to say about the suggestion that Minister Scrimgeour was targeted because of the luncheon he had with you? That He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was sending you a message with the killing?"

Seeing the small crowd that was listening, Harry leaned close to her and replied, "I say, let's have dinner some time, Rita." With an openly laughing Ron walking beside him, Harry made his way the Floo.

From there, he and Ron traveled back to the Burrow for a short visit and a big lunch. The boys wisely glossed over the excitement at the Ministry, instead giving a play-by-play of Ron's test and Harry's interview. Harry even remembered to tell Mrs. Weasley that Arthur wanted that crumble tonight. When the food had disappeared, the three teens got in a short game of broom tag before Harry had to head back to the cottage.

He shared a chaste goodbye with Ginny – they hadn't been given any time alone his entire visit – and reminded her that he would be returning in two days. In the aftermath of the Minster's assassination, Bill and Fleur had moved up their wedding to this weekend and cut their guest list to a bare minimum, thinking it would be safer than the lavish event Molly had planned for them. Harry had been asked to stay from Thursday to Sunday to help with the preparations and join in the celebration, and Albus had given his blessing to the extended visit.

Shouting one last goodbye to the family, Harry disappeared into the flames. After the events of the day, his dinner at the cottage was boring in comparison, as was his weekly visit with Doctor Tony. It had been two hellish weeks without his 'happy dream' pills. At first, the nasty nightmares had really bothered him, but over the course of the two weeks, they had gradually eased up. Harry had offered to share his dream journal with the doctor, but Tony just shook his head no, saying that Harry must have already figured out their meaning if they were getting better.

That decided, they were back to their original problem – that Harry needed something that would help keep his mind his own while he slept. His old prescription had worked by helping to block negative emotions, which is the only kind of emotion Voldemort associates with Harry. Harry privately theorized that the euphoric feelings caused by the drug were so repugnant to Voldemort that he couldn't stomach being in Harry's dreams.

Doctor Tony understood the problem, but was hesitant to put Harry back on the pills due to his Ventris Inner-erosion, since there was a chance that they had been a contributing factor. It was hard for any of them to accurately guess how the Muggle drug interacted with a magical ailment. In the end, after listening to Harry's very real fears of Voldemort getting into his mind at night, the doctor had agreed that some risk was worth taking, and he'd given Harry a new prescription.

The new drug metabolized differently, so it shouldn't aggravate his ailment. This one wasn't technically a sleeping aid, so he would have to fall asleep on his own, but it would increase certain chemical levels in his brain which should have the desired effect. Albus nodded as if he understood the medical jargon (even though Harry was certain the man hadn't), and they left after arranging for his next appointment two weeks out.

Harry was actually eager to get to sleep that night and see if the new pills did the trick. And boy, did they! Harry had awakened to sticky sheets and indecent thoughts of Ginny. In any other instance, he might have been embarrassed, but this morning he laughed as he pictured Voldemort's reaction if he had tried to enter that particular dream. He did, however, cast a quick cleaning spell on the bed. He still remembered the time last summer when Dobby had found similarly dirty sheets. The house-elf had been beside himself with worry that the great Harry Potter must have been struck by a powerful dark curse that was causing his body to leak during the night. He'd been unable to keep Dobby from sharing his concerns with Albus – a humiliating discussion full of twinkling eyes and double entendre that Harry would give his wand to forget.

Waiting for Harry at the breakfast table was the Daily Prophet, with a word-by-word recap of his brief interview. Of course, the story sharing the front page covered the kidnapping attempt and the courageous way he had fought back, complete with a picture of Harry fiercely waving his wand. Watching the picture repeat – and unable to figure out what he'd been doing to make his wand move like that – he had to admit, it looked pretty silly.

According to the story, he proved himself as The Chosen One by his "spectacular array of offensive spells"; which was odd, as he could only remember using the Disarming spell. At least Arthur got a good mention for "valiantly jumping to the aid of our hero". Ron was even mention, but only in passing, as in "also injured was Ron Weasley". At least they got his name right.

Putting the paper aside, Harry hoped that Ron's jealousy wasn't about to rear its ugly head again. Albus assured him his friend would be fine before congratulating him on his first full-fledged publicity stunt. Although, Albus wondered aloud, perhaps he had overdone the 'endangered hero' angle. For an old man, he sure could dodge flying silverware!

As Albus left for the Wizengamot to oversee the selection of the new Minister, he thanked Harry again for doing the interview. He knew better than most how much Harry hated the publicity, but he also knew – and Harry had reluctantly agreed – that Harry's endorsement of Bluestreak was bound to sway the votes of some of the fence-sitting members.

When Albus returned, far into the evening, Harry eagerly asked for news and Albus obliged. Deliberations had started right on time, and at first it had looked like Bluestreak would easily be named. But dinner time came and went, and they were still bogged down in procedure, as two of the members had simply refused to allow a call to vote. Finally, around 7:00, Albus had found a way around the stall tactics. The vote was called, and Gemini Bluestreak won by a wide margin. He accepted congratulations from the fellow nominees and several members of the Wizengamot as he made his way to Albus' side. He was sworn in as Minister in front of a mostly enthusiastic crowd.

He immediately made three appointments: he named Auror Captain Barney Miller to run the Auror Department, promoted Kingsley Shacklebolt to Head of Magical Law Enforcement, and shuffled the ex-acting-Minister Pius Thicknesse from that position (which was still technically his) to the International Magical Cooperation department, much like Crouch had been many years before. It was also the post vacated by the newly elected Bluestreak. Rather convenient, that.

Harry was somewhat surprised that Bluestreak had gotten away with those moves. Particularly Kingsley's promotion, which leap-frogged him to one of the most important positions within the Ministry. But this Minister had wanted to set the tone that he was serious about getting rid of even the hint of impropriety, which Thicknesse had in spades.

Bluestreak had also given his support to Albus' suggestion that all Ministry employees be checked for the Dark Mark, and in a rare compromise, it was agreed that all Department Heads, supervisors, and Aurors would be checked as they reported to work the next morning.

Harry and Albus celebrated the victory for the Order (and wizardkind, of course) by having double helpings of treacle tart, which Dobby had been keeping warm. After eating their fill, the two moved to the back yard and relaxed in the peaceful surroundings. While they were enjoying the calm night air, a ghostly lynx leapt from the tree line and prowled over to Albus, where it sat expectantly before saying in a deep slow voice "mission accomplished". A second later, the cat dissolved.

Seeing Harry's excited face, Albus began to explain the mission he had given Kingsley, when Harry waved him off. "Forget the mission. You have got to teach me how to do that."

Albus chuckled, realizing that he had been remiss in his teaching duties. Rising from his seat, he drew his wand as he launched into an impromptu lesson on how to send a message via Patronus. It really wasn't that difficult, once one had the Patronus Charm mastered. He explained that the stronger one's corporeal Patronus appeared – that is to say, the brighter and more defined – the longer the message it could carry. Harry picked the magic up quickly; but then, Prongs was a rather impressive Patronus.

Before the two headed to bed, Albus filled Harry in on his travel plans. At the request of the new Minister, Albus and Kingsley were traveling to America to meet with the Organized Sorcery Union, known as the OSU. While Harry was enjoying the wedding festivities, they would be seeking assistance in dealing with the rogue Dementors. Back in the 1960's, Dementors had been overrunning the foothills of Tennessee, until the OSU stepped in one summer and the attacks and sighting stopped. In the ensuing years, the OSU remained tight-lipped as to their methods. But with the Dementors hunting and breeding uncontrolled across the country, it was time to find out what the OSU knew.

Albus promised to pick him up from the Burrow on Sunday, but did caution him to go somewhere safe if for any reason his didn't show up. Remembering the Ministry pamphlets from last summer, Harry pestered Albus until the man agreed to a password of sorts, something that could be innocently worked into a conversation, but would instantly prove that he was the real Dumbledore. Albus had thought it pointless; he had argued that if he was captured, his captor would surely torture the password from him. But Harry countered – "what if I let Lestrange take me home because she reminds me to call Snape Professor and so I think she's you?" They eventually settled on 'Hagrid's umbrella'.

In the early hours of Thursday morning, Harry once again had to charm his sheets as he left his bed, smiling as he thought about seeing the object of his dreams. He dressed quickly and threw some clothes into his bag before running down the stairs to meet Albus for breakfast. The two shared a quick meal before they walked out the front door to go their separate ways. Albus was heading to the Ministry, where he needed to finish up some paperwork before joining Kingsley for their trip across the pond. Harry was heading to nirvana, also know as the Burrow.

Taking a deep breath of the fresh mountain air, Harry concentrated on his destination. Silently appearing in the road in front of the house, he made his way toward the lopsided house he thought of as a second – 'make that third' – home.

The closer he got to the house, the surer he was that someone would come out to welcome him; but strangely, no one did. Harry couldn't remember ever arriving at the Burrow with no one to greet him – well, except that first time. But then, that had been a secret mission. Casting suspicious glances around the yard, he pulled his wand as he slowly crept toward the kitchen door.

Once he'd moved closer to the porch, he heard the familiar sound of Mrs. Weasley – 'Molly … I'm supposed to call her Molly' – shouting. From what he could make out, she was on a rant at Bill and Fleur. Harry wondered how the couple had found themselves on the receiving end of Molly's wrath mere days before their wedding. Hearing the shrieking voice, he was suddenly glad that he and Ginny were eloping.

Not wanting to enter a battlefield, Harry made his way around to the rarely-used front door. Knowing that no one would be able to hear him knock, Harry let himself into the house and deposited his bag in the sitting room before heading to the kitchen. Ginny spotted him lurking in the doorway, and signaled for him to stay where he was.

From this position he could see that Fleur was seated at the table, looking as nervous as she had just before the first task. Bill was standing stiffly behind her, his hands holding onto her shoulders protectively. Ginny was hovering near the sink trying to keep out of the line of fire, but clearly enjoying the show. Ron was seated at the closest end of the table with his back to Harry. He appeared to be eating his breakfast, quite oblivious to the maelstrom around him. Turning his attention to the motherly woman, Harry picked up what she was saying.

"Did it even occur to the two of you that we could all use a little something to celebrate? To think that I – oh, hello Harry." Her face melted into a huge smile upon spotting him. She motioned for him to take the empty chair directly across from Fleur as she continued in a suddenly cheerful voice. "Have a seat and I'll find you something to eat, dear. I'm sure Ron hasn't managed to eat everything."

And without missing a beat, she turned to the stove and got to work as she picked up where she had left off. She spoke louder now, since her back was to the room. "To think, William, that I carried you for nine months – summer months, William, when it's all hot and sticky – endured twenty-one hours of labor to bring you into this world – no potions to numb that pain, mind you – and you can't even wait a few months so your poor, dear mother can attend your wedding!"

The silence was deafening, if such a thing were possible, and Harry felt incredibly out of place. Fleur was looking over her shoulder at Bill and they appeared to be silently communicating. Molly turned back around, thrusting a full plate at Ginny as she said, "here you go, Harry dear. I hope you don't mind eggs and tomatoes."

Biting back any comment on the wrongly delivered plate, Ginny dodged behind her mother and set said plate in front of her boyfriend. As she bent down she whispered, "they just confessed they got married back in May when they visited her family in France." Harry shot her an anxious look – this was how Mrs. Weasley reacted to someone eloping? Ginny gave him a small shrug, then winked as she sank into the seat next to him. Despite the fact that he had already eaten, he made quick work of the food, intent on finishing quickly so he could escape the kitchen before the calm ended. He wasn't fast enough.

"All I've ever wanted," Molly continued from directly behind Harry, her voice quivering, "was to watch my children grow ... to help them when their lives are hard … and to celebrate with them when their lives are happy." She was sniffling toward the end, and Harry refused to look behind him for fear that he would see tears falling from her eyes.

Across from him, he could see that Bill was trying to stay strong, but Fleur was wilting under Molly's gaze. Suddenly the blond beauty couldn't take it anymore. "We're having a baby," she blurted.

Every occupant of the room froze, waiting to see how Molly would take the shocking news. Ron had even stopped eating, and appeared to be braced for a quick escape. The only one in the room that had the guts to look at directly at Molly was Bill, and he steadfastly looked his mother in the eye, even as the red on his face threatened to become permanent.

"OH, my baby's having a baby!" she finally shrieked. Then, in a move so quick that Harry swore it was Apparition, she was beside Bill and his bride, pulling them both into a bone-crushing hug. By silent but unanimous consent, the three teens in the room made a hasty retreat. Once in the back yard, they broke into laughter as they discussed what had just happened. Harry shot Ginny a few furtive glances, as if to ask if she was still on board for their own secret wedding. Behind Ron's back, she held up her left hand and wiggled her fingers, nodding her head as she did so.

Dinner that night was a lively affair. Not only were the twins in attendance - and in full jokster mode - but Molly was getting quite carried away making baby plans. Her excitement was understandable – it was her first grandchild. He or she would be making his or her appearance in early January. As Molly had loudly complained more than once through the meal, she only had six months to get ready. Between the excitement of the baby, and the news that Percy would be attending what was now a renewal of vows on Saturday, she was so happy that she didn't yell at anyone throughout the entire meal – even when Fred asked Bill some very inappropriate questions about when and where the baby was created.

Hermione had also arrived just before the food hit the table, and she and Ginny were sitting on either side of Harry teasing him mercilessly about his latest Daily Prophet cover story. Hermione repeatedly referred to him as her "steady-handed wand warrior" – an unfortunate phrase that an obviously female Prophet writer had used. Ron tried to hide his laughter as he ate, but it was a losing struggle for him, and he soon joined in the banter. He accused Harry of cheating on Ginny with Rita Skeeter because he had heard Harry invite the pest to dinner. Harry accepted the ribbing graciously (well, sort of anyway); he was just glad Ron hadn't been upset by the "also there" mention he had received.

The only serious part of the night came when Arthur reported on those that had called in sick for work. Every last one of them, including two Aurors, was given until closing time on Monday to present themselves to be checked for the Dark Mark. If they missed the deadline, they could consider themselves unemployed. Of special note was Pius Thicknesse - the almost-Minister turned Department Head had been checked and found clean-armed, lending credence to Snape's Imperious theory.

It was unfortunate, Harry felt, that known Death Eaters like Yaxley and Goyle weren't supervisors or Department Heads, and therefore weren't part of the probe. They would maintain their posts unchecked. Arthur, perhaps sensing that the conversation could use some levity, admitted he'd shortened the sleeves on this robes to display his unblemished arms for all to see.

After mulitple helpings of tasty fruit tarts, the four friends excused themselves to Ron's room where they talked and played Exploding Snap until past midnight. As the girls left for Ginny's room, Harry discreetly pulled out his new pills and swallowed one, silently praying they weren't quite as effective as they had been the last two nights. But Harry is seldom that lucky, and he swore to himself as he once again woke to messy sheets.

Fortunately it was still early, and Ron was still asleep. Harry was about to charm the sheets clean when he remembered Ron's teasing the night before. With a wicked grin, he performed a perfect Switching Spell, replacing his dirty sheets with Ron's clean ones. As an afterthought, he used one of the Prince's spells to make the front of Ron's pajamas wet – a clever spell that he figured Snape had created to make it appear that Sirius, or maybe his dad, had pissed himself.

Ron would be grossed-out if he ever learned the truth, but Harry had no intention of that happening. Besides, Harry had been pretty grossed-out by Ron's insinuations regarding Rita Skeeter, so he felt perfectly justified. And, he reasoned, Padfoot would have approved.

**end chapter**

Notes: Harry's prank – gross, yes; but also sounds just like something a teenage wizard would do. About the chapter title; I guess I got a bit carried away with the alliteration thing. Harry as poster-boy for the new Minister? Well, he is "Dumbledore's man", and Albus asked him to do it.

From last chapter: The Gemini and the Blue Streak are two of the oldest roller coasters at Cedar Point amusement park.