The Ministry of Magic, Whitehall, central London, deep underground.

Monday, August 3rd, 1998 – Half past ten.

"We're sorry Harry," The mousy man, complete with cardigan, tie and bowl hat said, looking through thick rimmed glasses onto a shiny clipboard. "You know we would love to have you but, with the amount of media attention you gather and just the fact that you are a," He made bunny ears half heartedly, "Famous face. You cannot do much for us in the field."

"So.. I'm out?" Harry asked defeated. The man had already explained the difficulty of the matter in length but he had a hard time believing it. He just wanted to be an Auror, had been told he would have been a great one, he would have loved it, he knew. Yet, in one swift blow, the one wish he had was gone.

"We can offer you am desk job in different places of our department or various short school programs to become a trainer for incoming new blood. We can help you look further past our department to find you a job," He put the clipboard aside. "That's all. We're sorry. We know you want to be an Auror but for you, it's impossible."

"But..."

"Think about it, alright?" The man droned on, already on his way to open up the door of his office to let Harry out. "You can owl me anytime, with any question."

Harry sighed deeply. He grabbed his coat, thanked the man and bid him farewell. On his way to leaving the building, he already had to dodge several press members, one of which he really, really rather not meet. Rita Skeeter had messed up enough for him in his past, no need to add to the future. The one thing was that, everything being said rang true and he understood the Auror departments choice about him all the more.

Feeling sad, he stepped out the doors of the Ministry and stood atop of the three-step stairs, burying his hands deep in his pockets and chin against his chest, staring at his feet. "Well, that didn't go as planned." He mumbled and sighed.

Harry took a step, tripped and tumbled down – a somersault and he was flat on his back, groaning. He grappled around for his glasses that had fallen of when he went down.

In an instant, a mob of reporters surrounded him. They moved too quick and came a little too close for comfort as one stepped on his fingers, another trampled his glasses to shatters and a third wasn't watching his footing and thus, a fairly large booted foot connected painfully with his ribs.

They were loud and screaming over each other to get their question out the loudest in a hopeless attempt to get an answer. Their camera's were flashing and puffed up little clouds of smoke, effectively creating a mist that would ruin the photo's they made. Several quills zoomed around his head, one lost its floating piece of parchment and poked his face instead. It was chaos all around. Harry tried his best to get back on his feet and away from the group he was very close to hexing, where it not, he could not reach his wand by the way they had closed in on him.

Suddenly, someone burst through the crowd and two hands slipped under his armpits to pull him onto his feet. Harry could not see who it was, but grateful nonetheless, as he was pushed through and away from the crowd into a back alley.

The reporters could not follow. The tell tale sign of Aurors coming down by the whistle they blew to control large crowds prevented them for doing so and Harry let out a deep breath in relief. He, thoroughly dishevelled, ran his hands over his face. He mourned his lost glasses for a second and spun around to thank his saviour.

Harry laughed brightly and breathlessly happy when he saw who exactly got him out. Even if he was a blur, Harry recognised him always. There was Ron Weasley smiling, cheekily so, for the roles of saving had been reversed and Harry jumped onto him, hugging him tight.

"What the bloody hell happened out there?" Ron asked wide eyed once Harry let go and started tucking Harry's clothes back in place. Harry let him, his lack of sight preventing him from doing it right anyway.

"Heck I know, vultures probably caught a whiff of my Auror interview." Harry sighed.

"I actually came to pick you up, it's not everyday you best mate gets accepted into Auror training so I thought we have a little party and stuff. It's a good thing I did though," Ron grinned and patted Harry on the shoulder, indicating he was done tugging his clothing. "So, how did it go? We are celebrating, right?"

"No we're not, I was denied," Harry slumped to the ground and sat with his back against the wall. "It's all too much. I need a vacation!"

Ron gaped and silence reigned between them. Ron sat down next to him. There in a dinghy, dirty side alley smelling of garbage and cat piss, Ron and Harry sat side by side talked quietly without interference and Ron came up with the most brilliant idea. "You should take that vacation, go see Charlie, I bet he's happy to have you."

"Your brother?"

Ron nodded. "Nobody can just waltz up to the Dragon Reservoir and get in. It's big and entertaining says Charlie and you can easily catch a breather there."