Holmes Mystery: Ministry of Magic

Character Appreciation: an anniversary

Buttons: picture frame

Ami's Audio, American Public Radio: wireless radio

Word Count: 650

Kingsley hesitates outside the Ministry, taking a deep breath. It's hard to believe that it's been a year, that 365 days ago, he and so many others were fighting valiantly within a school that had been a second home to countless people. A year. He's lost track of how many funerals he attended, how many grieving families he tried to comfort. The past year has been one great blur of grief, pain, and that slow, ever present optimism that the world will grow, and all the fighting will have been worth it.

He massages his temples, wondering if he's prepared to face the day. Though the worst is far behind them, there is still so much grief and healing. Part of him wishes he could have stayed home today. However, he isn't an Auror anymore; he is the Minister, and he has a responsibility to the magical community.

Somehow, Kingsley finds the strength to hold his head high. So many people rely on him to be a beacon of hope. With that heavy burden upon his shoulders, he forces his feet to carry him forward.

The Atrium is alive with noise. Employees and non-employees alike walk along, pausing to admire the monument by the fountain. Over the past year, loved ones have left picture frames with photographs of their fallen friends and family. Music drifts through the air from the wireless radio—a hopeful little tune the Weird Sisters had put out shortly after the final battle.

Pain is still evident. Not everyone fought, but they all knew someone who had. No one escaped this war without some sort of loss.

"Good morning, Minister," Arthur greets. Somehow, he manages a smile that looks genuine.

"Arthur," Kingsley says with a polite bow of his head. "I thought you and the family would be at Hogwarts."

The other man shrugs, raking his fingers through his thinning ginger hair. "The remembrance ceremony isn't until after lunch. Wanted to… Wanted to keep busy."

Kingsley nods. He understands, of course. Everyone has their own ways of coping, of keeping the memories at bay so that the weight of it all doesn't become too much.

"Right. Better get going," Arthur adds, clapping Kingsley on the back. "Lots to do."

Before Kingsley can wish him well, Arthur is already gone. He sighs and carries on, his eyes scanning over the crowd. Though the Ministry is full, it still seems strange knowing he'll never see some familiar faces again. The pain only increases when he stops by the office for Magical Law Enforcement. Nearly everyone Kingsley had worked with is gone now.

Moody. Amelia. Tonks.

"Minister," Dawlish says, nodding.

"Dawlish."

They don't say anything beyond that. Kingsley hasn't yet convinced Dawlish that it's okay, that he understands the Auror hadn't intended to side with Thicknesse's cruel regime. In the end, his words had fallen on deaf ears.

"I miss her too," Kingsley murmurs instead, nodding to Amelia's photograph, framed in remembrance and honor for all to see.

His old friend's lips twitch. Dawlish offers him a salute before carrying on.

Kingsley hadn't wanted to be Minister. Once the war ended, he waited and waited, knowing someone would surely relieve him of the position. In the end, their eyes were all fixed upon him like he had all the answers. He had resented it then; maybe part of him still does. It is a big responsibility—a responsibility he'd never asked for.

But, now, it's his responsibility. As he makes his way to his office, there's a nagging voice in his head that whispers that he can lock the door and hide away for the day.

But he won't. These are his people. He has fought for them, and he will continue to wage that battle if it means that they can heal.

This isn't a life that he wanted, but it's his, and be will make the most of it.