New Recruits

The Minister of Magic sat at his desk in perfect silence, lost in thought. The past month had been a whirlwind of activity, too much to quite take in. That he was alive and healthy after what had felt like years of war, and being pushed to his absolute limit physically, magically, and emotionally, was a miracle in itself. That he had been unanimously elected by the Wizengamot to lead and guide the British wizarding community, was another thing altogether.

He had seen things that would disturb him night and day. He had lost people that had had a huge impact on his life. And now he had been given possibly the biggest responsibility of his life and was faced with the biggest task that anybody would have to face in these times. He alone was responsible for rebuilding the country after the destruction that had been done. He alone was the person people would be looking to—to give them help, to give them hope—and he couldn't mess it up.

Even though he had a whole government of people working by his side, he still felt alone in his mission, just as he was now currently alone in his new office. Even during the war he had not felt this alone. He had had a whole team of colleagues, of friends, by his side. No, he couldn't do it alone. Though he was Minister, he needed a team by his side. And he knew just the people...

Three hesitant knocks on the door.

"Come in," he boomed in what he hoped was an authoritative but cheerful voice.

The door opened slowly, and three familiar figures appeared. He looked at them fondly. In some ways, they were exactly the same three troublesome children they had always been. But in other ways, they were so much more than that. They were adults, matured by times of trouble they should never have had to face. They were heroes.

"It is good to see you," he laughed, letting his joy at seeing them get the better of him. He may be the Minister of Magic, but he would always be the same person he had always been. He was their companion and their friend.

They eased from nervousness to happiness at his warm greeting and walked further into the room.

The tallest of the trio let out a long, low whistle, clearly impressed by his surroundings. "Blimey, Kingsley, not too shabby, is it?"

The Minister chuckled again. "No, no it's not," he agreed proudly.

"Congratulations," the only female of the group suddenly gushed. "It's such an important role, and I honestly don't think they could have chosen anybody better for the job. I mean, it's such an honour! And I know you'll be great—the best we've had in a while, without a doubt."

"Thank you," Kingsley said warmly, relaxing now that he was around such familiar faces. "It is very kind of you to say so."

"I agree," the third, and arguably most important of the three piped up. "You really deserve this. More than anybody."

The Minister gave his hand a firm shake, a friendly greeting. This boy—this man—alone had faced more and achieved more, than anybody else involved in the war. The messy black hair, the round glasses, the lightning shaped scar—identical to the day he'd first met him. Yet those eyes, so startlingly green, had seen countless episodes of tragedy and suffering. If anybody had endured hardship in the war then it was Harry Potter. Kingsley was in awe of him, even at just a mere seventeen years old.

"Please, take a seat," he said kindly, conjuring three chairs in front of his desk.

The gangling redhead had been examining every inch of wall in the office, but his attention was immediately drawn to the female hand that gently wound its way around his arm. That was new, Kingsley thought to himself in a fascinated manner. That motion, that look, that twinkle in their eyes when they looked at each other.

"Mr Potter, Mr Weasley, Miss Granger."

They obligingly took their seats.

Kingsley hesitated for a moment. No matter how hard he tried, he could not play the role he was supposed to. He tried again. "Harry, Ron, Hermione." Kingsley relaxed almost immediately. Three cheery faces peered back at him, as though they had not faced such evil and suffering as they had done just a month ago. "How are you?"

All three of them burst into assurances of their positive wellbeing, though how much truth there was in it, Kingsley couldn't be sure. "I won't beat around the bush," he went on. "Though I am immensely pleased to see you all, and no matter how much I wish I did, I'm afraid I don't have time for idle chat. I have invited you here on business."

"Business?" Hermione asked suspiciously. A faint wrinkle creased in her forehead, and a frown played on her lips.

"Nothing to be concerned about," Kingsley reassured her. "I'm not recruiting you for another wizarding war. I'm not trying to send you off to wrangle dragons and fight Death Eaters," he joked.

"Wouldn't be so fun the second time anyway," Ron muttered light-heartedly.

"No," Kingsley assured them, "I think you've had quite enough for the moment. You three have done more than we could possibly thank you for. You three alone were the most valuable assets to the war that we could have ever had."

"We weren't alone," Harry said, whilst Hermione blushed and Ron looked sheepish. "Every person that fought was as valuable as the rest. We could never have done nearly as much as we did without the help of all those who fought alongside us. All those who gave their lives..."

There was a mournful silence that passed through the office. They had all lost dear ones.

Once again, Kingsley found himself in awe of the Boy Who Lived, so humbled. "I know the past seven years have been anything but easy for you all. The last one even more so. I suppose I was just wondering what you had in mind for your future?"

Harry blinked in surprise, as though he had not expected to have this come up in conversation. He shared a glance with Ron, neither really having thought of it. They were still adapting to life after the war. It was a difficult process.

"Perhaps too soon to have raised the question," Kingsley observed.

But Hermione leant forwards in her chair eagerly. "Hogwarts," she burst out excitedly. "We still have a full year of education left. We haven't done our NEWTs. Hogwarts will still be continuing, won't it?" she asked, suddenly panic-stricken.

"I hope I never see the day when Hogwarts does not continue," Kingsley declared. "The castle is being repaired and cleared up as we speak, and I have been in talks with Professor McGonagall with regards to the future of the school. But yes, Hogwarts will most certainly continue."

All three of them looked relieved, Hermione the most so. Kingsley shouldn't have expected anything less. Of course Hermione Granger would wish to finish her academic studies. He admired her for it.

"And it's the wish of all three of you to return to Hogwarts for your final year of education?"

Again, the boys exchanged glances.

"I—well—I hadn't really considered it, in all honesty," Harry confessed. "I don't think I could go back there. I love Hogwarts, I really do, but the idea of returning to anything as normal as school just seems ridiculous to me..."

"Ridiculous?" Hermione repeated, her voice a little pitchy. "But Harry, there's so much we don't know! So much we haven't learnt! Spells, potions... we really shouldn't deprive ourselves of such important knowledge."

Harry raised an eyebrow at her. "Hermione, we've just spent a year hunting Horcruxes and fighting Death Eaters. We've lived it all! Do you honestly think there would be any benefit from going back to school?"

Hermione looked like she was going to protest but, after seven years, knew it would be pointless in the end. Harry was stubborn like that. She knew it would be hopeless to try and convince him to come back. "Fine," she said in defeat. "I suppose you're right, really. But it won't be the same with just me and Ron..."

At this point, Ron sat up sharply. "What?"

"I said it won't be the same without Harry," Hermione explained, turning her head to look at him. "I mean, you are coming back, aren't you?"

Ron looked startled, and then promptly went red. "Well, I—I—I—" he stuttered.

Hermione looked nothing less than hurt. "You're not coming back either?" she demanded.

"I—I'll write to you..."

"You'll write to me?"

"But 'Mione, Harry has a point. We've lived it. We don't need to learn about it anymore..."

Kingsley coughed sharply, sensing that Hermione was about to start protesting. Noticing Harry's awkward glances at the pair, he knew he'd been right about that interaction earlier. Something had certainly changed in the relationship between the two of them. It must have happened during the war and slipped completely over his head. But he didn't want to know, and he didn't want to get involved in it all.

"I think it truly admirable that you intend to complete your education, Hermione. But for the boys, I have to agree. I don't think going back to Hogwarts would necessarily be what's best for them given the circumstances."

Ron looked grateful. Hermione looked sulky.

"You have been inseparable for the past seven years, I understand that. But things are going to be different now. Perhaps it's time you started to head in separate directions."

"If you're not going back to Hogwarts then what are you going to do?" Hermione asked huffily, refusing to look at Ron, though still addressing him.

"I... hadn't thought about that," Ron admitted, looking deflated.

"Yeah, me either," Harry piped up.

"And that is where I come in," Kingsley announced, getting excited now that he could raise the topic. "That all comes down to why I invited you all here in the first place."

They all looked at him interestedly, Hermione's bad-temperedness quickly subsiding.

"For your involvement in the war—for the heroism, intelligence, bravery, and exceptional skill that you displayed—I would like to offer you all a position of your choosing in the Ministry."

"Can you really do that?" Ron asked stupidly.

"I'm the Minister of Magic..."

Ron went as red as his hair.

They were all in deep shock, Harry especially. "You mean we could work here? In the Ministry?"

Kingsley nodded at him eagerly.

"But—but we don't have our NEWTs. We don't even have OWLs that would qualify us enough!"

"Harry, a large portion of the wizarding community witnessed you first-hand during the Battle of Hogwarts. You defeated the darkest, most powerful wizard of this generation, on more than one occasion! You have an adept magical ability—there's no question about it. I have seen fully grown men that have been training as Aurors their whole lives who haven't been nearly as brave and skilled and fearless as you are. I think it's safe to say that nobody would object to having me recruit the saviour of the wizarding world as an Auror. Or any other profession you might have in preference," he added. "You too," he nodded to Ron. "Eighteen years old and just as able to fight in a war as any grown man. That is not something you see every day."

"You would let us be Aurors?" Ron breathed in wonder.

"I would certainly like to offer you a position in our Auror department, should you so desire to accept." Kingsley addressed this to the pair of them. "I know it hasn't been an easy year, and I realise only a month has passed since the war ended. It's a big responsibility, but nothing I don't think either of you could handle. I only mention it now so that you may have the summer to think it through. Training would begin in September, so I wouldn't expect you to give me an answer today. Go and think it through—enjoy your freedom. And even if you don't accept just yet, the offer will be open for as long as I continue to be Minister."

All three of them were gobsmacked by this offer.

"And, of course, Hermione," Kingsley added kindly, "after you complete your education, the same offer is just as open to you. I would consider it an honour to have you work in the Ministry."

Hermione blushed. "I haven't really thought about it too much. I don't know if being an Auror is necessarily what I'd want to do..."

"Perhaps a career in the Magical Law Enforcement department?" he suggested.

Hermione looked startled. "I shouldn't think so!"

Kingsley smiled knowingly. "Whatever you decide to do in the future, whether involved in the Ministry or not, you would have my full support. I am more than willing to give you any help in achieving whatever it is you decide to pursue."

"Thank you, Kingsley! I mean, err, Mr Shacklebolt. I mean Minister! Sir," Hermione added.

Kingsley had to suppress the overwhelming desire to burst into laughter. He found his new title as hard to adapt to as everybody else did.

"Aurors," Ron muttered to himself, deep in thought. A giddy, awestruck look had been plastered on his face since the moment Kingsley had brought it up. "I'd be the first in the family," he was telling himself excitedly. "And without even having done my NEWTs!"

But Harry looked somewhat concerned. "Are you sure?" he asked. "I mean, we don't really know anything about being Aurors. What would we do?"

"There are a lot of Death Eaters still out there," Kingsley told them seriously. "Supporters of the Dark Lord. He had as big an army as we did. And though many died, and many have already desperately claimed they were being possessed and controlled, there are plenty out there still, forced into hiding, and all fearing one name above all: Harry Potter. Yes, you certainly wouldn't be short of work. Should you accept, of course," he added.

"I could hunt down the Malfoys," Ron breathed with wondrous delight.

"September," Kingsley announced sharply, snapping Ron out of his malicious daydream. "I will call upon you again at the beginning of September. But for now, enjoy the rest of your summer. Lord knows you deserve it."

"But can't we—"

"Enjoy your summer." Kingsley interrupted Ron's eager question, knowing he'd sign up immediately if given the choice.

The three of them rose from their chairs, flooded him with further assurances of their appreciation and gratitude, and congratulated him umpteenth times for being elected as Minister. Kingsley watched them go as fondly as he'd watched them enter, now chatting animatedly. They were growing up, he thought almost sadly, as Ron slipped his hand into Hermione's just before they were out of sight.

'The Golden Trio' they'd been branded as by the wizarding world, and the Golden Trio they would always be.

Kingsley was alone in his office once more—in a physical sense, at least. But deep down the Minister of Magic knew he couldn't be, not really. Who knew what the future would hold for any of them? And though there was no one to see it, he broke out into a broad smile.

Originally written for the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition Season 2—Round 10

Team: Holyhead Harpies
Position: Captain
Task: Write about the Minister of Magic (office/department/secretaries etc.)