This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Harry Potter universe, which are trademarked by J.K. Rowling. I do not claim ownership of these characters nor the locations such as Hogwarts, Hogsmeade, etc. that are Rowling's creations.
I thank Rowling for the universe she has created that allows me to do something like this for my own entertainment and, hopefully, the entertainment of the readers.
"Rise up this mornin'," Dennis sang to himself, pottering around his office as he listened absently to the song from the radio. "Smiled with the risin' sun. Three little birds, Pitch by my doorstep. Singin' sweet songs, Of melodies pure and true, sayin', 'This is my message to you'."
"Dennis, what the hell?" Harry asked in bewilderment as he walked into his deputy's office. "What on earth is that you're listening to?"
"Reggae," Dennis answered, silently annoyed to be missing out on singing along to the chorus. "Bob Marley, 'Three Little Birds'."
"Bob Marley," Harry said thoughtfully. "He's a muggle singer, isn't he?"
"He was a muggle singer," Dennis replied. "Died in '81. Cancer. He was a genius though, created music like nobody else."
"Right," Harry said carefully, slightly confused by Dennis's apparent love of Bob Marley. "Okay, well, good for him, I guess," he said. "Anyway, I needed to warn you about something."
"I finished the Hammersmith speech," Dennis told him. "And the remarks for the Q&A session with the teachers unions."
"Well, great, but that's not what I wanted to warn you about," Harry told him, causing Dennis to look up. "I'm going to be busy today, I've got something to deal with. I don't know how long it will take or even if I'll be finished by the end of the day but I wanted to inform you now so you aren't completely shocked when I have Cho send you all my appointments."
Dennis blinked. "All your appointments," he said hesitantly. "All of them?"
Harry coughed. "No, not really, I shouldn't have said that," he backtracked. "Obviously if there's any emergency I need to deal with then I'll make sure to take that and I'll try to keep as many of my own appointments as I can but there will be some things I won't be able to do."
Dennis let out a relieved breath. "Okay," he said, calming significantly. "Cho will be keeping me up to date on everything I need?"
Harry nodded. "I'll tell Lizzie what's going on, although I imagine Cho's already told her."
Dennis nodded, turning back to his notes. "Wait," he said suddenly, having a thought. "What's this thing you need to do?"
Harry grimaced slightly, rubbing at his chin in agitation. "Wedding planning," he muttered, surprising Dennis. "We're meeting with a Ministry organiser to discuss wedding arrangements."
"And you don't like that because…?" Dennis questioned, raising an eyebrow at his boss.
Harry sighed. "I'm just not looking forward to it," he said defensively. "I don't want to have to spend hours in a room with some Ministry organiser. I mean, what else do they do when they're not doing weddings?"
"Well, I imagine they probably are heavily involved in all the Ministry events that go on in the ballroom downstairs," Dennis answered, prompting Harry to glare at him. "Sorry?" he said sheepishly, realising too late that Harry was being rhetorical.
Harry kept his annoyed stare on his deputy for a moment longer before turning to the door, making to leave. "We'll talk later," he announced as he walked out the room, shutting the door firmly behind him. Sighing in preparation for his soon to be busy day, Dennis turned to the radio, turning the volume up as 'Buffalo Soldier' started up.
There was a knock on the door. "Dennis."
Dennis switched off his radio as Lizzie stepped into his office, looking slightly nervous as she stepped inside. "Harry talked to you about what's happening today?" Dennis asked, turning his attention away from his work.
Lizzie nodded. "Yeah, he just told me to make sure Cho keeps me up to date," she told him. "He says he doesn't anticipate missing much but he just thought we should be prepared."
Dennis let out a sigh. "Good," he muttered, feeling some of the pressure on his shoulders lessen slightly.
"You're worried?" Lizzie asked cautiously.
Dennis looked at her, and sighed. "Yes, I am," he admitted softly. "I know I've been here for a while now but Harry still works to keep the more important stuff off my desk. I'm just worried I might not be up to doing what Harry needs me to do."
"You will be," Lizzie assured him. "Harry wouldn't have hired you if he didn't think you were up for it."
"He hired me to write speeches," Dennis argued. "He didn't hire me to… I don't even know all that Harry does. I don't know how to do his job."
"Harry hired you as his deputy," Lizzie told him. "And you'll learn how to do Harry's job. In the meantime you've got Harry to help you, and Ron and Neville and Hermione. You'll learn."
Dennis leaned back against his desk and closed his eyes, pinching at the bridge of his nose. "You're right," he admitted, eyes closed. "You're right, I can do this. It's just a bit intimidating, that's all." Dennis sighed, letting out a long breath to calm himself as he opened his eyes. "Right, so, was there anything else?"
Lizzie nodded, her nervousness starting to reappear. "My parents-" she started but Dennis cut her off with a long groan. "My parents are visiting me tonight," Lizzie pressed on, ignoring the unhappy look on Dennis's face. "I'd like you to have dinner with us."
"Dinner?" Dennis asked, his face screwed up in pain. "With your parents? Can't I just hang myself or something?"
"It won't be that bad," Lizzie tried but Dennis wasn't having any of it.
"Won't be that bad?" He repeated, slightly hysterically. "Not only am I dating my own assistant but I'm about twice your age."
"Dennis, stop this, you're being ridiculous," Lizzie told him, her voice showing her annoyance. "You're not twice my age, you're only six years older than me-"
"Six and a half," Dennis intervened.
"-and my parents aren't going to judge you on your age or your job or anything like that, so stop worrying about it," Lizzie finished, her voice getting louder as she spoke. "We've had this conversation before, Dennis. You're not getting out of this now. Tonight you will come to my place for half past seven and have dinner with me and my parents."
And with that Lizzie stormed out of the office, slamming the door behind her and leaving a pale and shaky Dennis alone in his office. Slowly, Dennis moved his hand to switch his radio back on, shivering as he heard the reggae music filter back into the room, no longer having the same comforting effect as it had before.
"Hey Hermione," Harry muttered as he wandered into the Press Secretary's office, glancing down at all the work piled on her desk. "Busy?"
"Not really," Hermione replied, finishing scribbling something down and then placing it on top of one of the neatly stacked piles of parchment. "I've just got a little housekeeping here to do before my next press briefing. You?"
Harry shrugged. "Not so much with the work," he answered dispassionately. "But I'm meeting with one of the Ministry organisers in a few minutes."
"What about?" Asked Hermione.
"Wedding preparations," Harry answered. Hermione glanced up.
"How's that going?" she asked with a smile. "Chosen a venue yet? Flowers? Music? Cake?"
"All to be decided by Helen Baker, Senior Official in the Department of Occasions and Planning," Harry recited dully, playing with a quill that had been left out on one of Hermione's side tables.
"Kind of kills the mood, doesn't it?" Hermione said, attention now fully on Harry as he tinkered around her office.
"I'll say," Harry snorted. "I'm starting to wonder if I'm really necessary for this wedding to go ahead."
Hermione didn't say anything in response, watching Harry curiously. "Well, what about the Honeymoon?" she asked, bringing a true smile onto Harry's face.
"That's all up to me to decide," he said happily. "Of course it all depends on when we have the wedding but I was thinking Hawaii, two weeks."
"That sounds good," Hermione said with a smile.
"It sounds perfect," Harry corrected her. "Beautiful beaches, constant sunshine, just me and Ginny with no worries about what's going on in Peru or back here with the Wizengamot."
"And you think you can keep yourself from thinking about work for two whole weeks?" Hermione questioned, raising her eyebrow in amusement.
"When I'm with Ginny I can," Harry answered back with a grin. Hermione laughed.
"Oh dear Harry, you are just so besotted with that girl," she laughed airily. "Who'd have thought that dark, brooding Harry Potter would ever be like this."
"Not me," Harry chuckled as Demelza stepped into the room, walking silently up to Hermione's desk and placing a note on it before leaving just as quietly. "What's up with her?"
"Who? Demelza?" Hermione questioned as she glanced up halfway through reading the note.
"Yeah, she seems really… I don't know, moody, this morning," Harry commented, glancing at the closed office door with a frown. "I swear she was glaring at me when I walked in."
Hermione let out a breath of mixed amusement and annoyance. "She broke up with Seamus," Hermione told him.
"Again?!" Harry said in disbelief, to which Hermione just rolled her eyes. "This is the third time they've broken up, in what? Two months?"
"More like three months," Hermione said dryly. "I should know. They broke up on their one month anniversary, then two weeks later and finally just last night."
"You would know?" Harry questioned, to which Hermione sighed.
"Demelza likes to blow off steam when she's angry," Hermione told him eventually, acting almost guilty about telling him this. "When she has problems with Seamus, or not, as it happens, she tends to tell me about them."
"What kind of things are we talking about?" Harry asked.
Hermione hesitated. "How Seamus isn't reliable enough, how greatly spontaneous he is, how he has a bit of a crude sense of humour, how good make up sex is…"
Harry shook his head wildly, signalling desperately for Hermione to stop. "Hermione, please, don't ever talk to me about make up sex ever again," Harry made her promise, looking slightly ill at the thought. "I just do not want to think about it."
Hermione laughed softly at his expression. "And here I thought I was a prude," she joked, before glancing at her watch. "When are you meeting Miss Baker?"
Harry grimaced. "Just about now, in fact," he muttered, looking at his watch, almost glaring at it as though the watch was at fault for what time it was. "I am not looking forward to this."
"It'll be fine," Hermione assured him. "Just think, once this is over all that will be left is getting married." Harry didn't look particularly reassured. "And then Hawaii."
Harry chuckled, smiling his thanks at Hermione for lightening his mood as he made his way to the door, ready to face the music. "See you later," he told her before walking out the door and closing it behind him.
"Now to the guest lists," Helen Baker said enthusiastically, making up for the severe lack of enthusiasm on the other side of the table. "I've got the lists you each submitted to the department last week. Are there any changes you would like to make before we go through them?"
"I'm fine," Ginny told her, glancing to her right. "Harry?" Harry blinked, surprised to have been addressed as he slouched disinterestedly in his chair.
"Yeah," he said simply, waving for Helen to continue. Ginny watched Harry for a moment longer, concerned by his lack of interest, before turning back to where Helen was waiting patiently to speak.
"Okay, well, there were a few issues with the lists we'd like to take a look at," Helen said, passing out a copy to each of them. "First Xenophilous Lovegood."
"He's my Maid of Honour's father," Ginny said defensively.
"I understand but he has several warnings for experimenting with restricted magical substances," Helen said cautiously, trying her best not to rile anyone up.
"I know he's had warnings but he's never been charged," Ginny argued. "I really want him to be there."
"I know he hasn't been officially charged with anything yet," Helen said hesitantly. "But this is a very important social event and we've got to be careful-"
"Oh, for god's sake, let him come," Harry snapped angrily, just about fed up with the woman already. "This is our wedding, not a Ministry function."
There was silence as Harry finished his outburst, Helen looking pale faced and shaky while Ginny looked even more concerned than she did a few moments earlier.
"Alright," Helen said shakily, making a small mark on her copy of the guest list. "Mr Lovegood will be invited. Okay, now, next issue is Dudley Dursley."
"What about him?" Harry asked, his voice still hard as he stared down the organiser. Helen gulped.
"We just wanted to make sure that he was used to magic enough not to be too overwhelmed come the wedding," she said hesitantly. "I understand he's family so I just wanted to warn you it might be an issue for him."
"He'll be fine," Harry said confidently.
"Okay," said Helen, seemingly glad to have got through that without incident. "And Petunia and Vernon Dursley?"
Harry was silent, his face showing no emotion as his mind whirled at the thought. Slowly, Harry let out a long, sad sigh, before shaking his head. "Take them off," he said simply. Ginny glanced at him.
"Are you sure?" she asked.
Harry nodded. "Yeah," he said, his voice heavy. "Take them off." Helen nodded and scored two names off the list, before fishing out more sheets of parchment from her folder.
"That's everything to do with your lists," she told them, handing them each several pages of parchment. "These are Ministry suggestions for guests. Now, I know neither of you are going to be particularly keen on having a lot of people you don't know attending but it's important that we invite certain people for diplomatic purposes."
Ginny nodded while Harry just grimaced, hating that this had become part of his wedding.
"Now," said Helen, getting hold of her own sheets. "Let's start with the A's."
They'd made it all the way down to Prince Roman Kaminsky of Russia when they were interrupted by a knock on the door, Cho to be seen through the glass panels.
"Alan Jones is in Meeting Room 3," she told Harry as he gestured her inside.
Harry nodded. "Okay, I've got to take this," he said, standing up from his chair. "I'll be back as soon as I can." He didn't look back as he followed Cho out of the room and off towards Meeting Room 3.
"Does he know why we've asked him to come?" Harry asked quietly as they approached the meeting room.
"I didn't tell him," Cho replied. "I just asked if he could come in and speak with you."
Harry nodded. "Well, given my job he probably should have some clue what it's about," he commented, one hand resting on the handle of the door. "What's happening with my eleven o'clock?"
"I've passed it onto Dennis," Cho told him.
Harry nodded in acceptance. "He met with Warlock Stewart?"
Cho shook her head, checking her notes. "Ron suggested he should speak with the Warlock," she told him. "I sent Ron's meeting with the labour union's leader to him instead."
"How did that go?" Harry asked, interested to see how Dennis had coped.
Cho shrugged. "I don't know," she answered. "I wasn't in the meeting."
Harry nodded. "Alright, well, I'm going to go in now," he said. "Just, you know, make sure Ron checks in on the labour unions later today." Cho nodded and walked off, leaving Harry standing alone in the corridor, one hand still on the handle. With a deep breath Harry pushed open the door and walked inside. "Alan, I'm glad you could make it."
Alan Jones smiled as he saw Harry approach, shaking his hand warmly. "It was no trouble at all," he assured him. "It's always good to see you. And hey, I haven't had the chance to congratulate you yet on your engagement."
Harry smiled. "Thank you Alan," he said appreciatively, gesturing for him to take a seat.
"So, how are the preparations for the wedding going?" Alan asked as he sat down. "Have you settled on a date? Should I be making some space on my calendar?"
Harry laughed. "Of course, but we haven't decided on a date yet," he replied. "We've actually been meeting with a Ministry organiser today to get things, well, organised."
"I'm sorry to have to pull you out of there," Alan said sincerely.
"Oh, no, you did me a favour," Harry laughed. "Planning a wedding is tough enough even without the Ministry being involved."
Alan chuckled. "I hear you," he said heartily.
"Anyway, how are things going with you?" Harry asked. "I heard your father is doing better."
"Yes, he is," Alan said with a smile. "Nothing can keep that old man down for long, not even kidney cancer."
"The muggle medicines are working then?" Harry asked cautiously.
"It seems that way," Alan replied. "Of course it would be better if my father were allowed magical remedies but… well, that's the law, isn't it. No muggle is allowed magical remedies."
"I am sorry about that," Harry said. "If we could make an exception we would but it's important to maintaining the Statute of Secrecy that we uphold these laws."
"I understand, Harry, I understand," Alan assured him. "If my father weren't doing so well I might not be feeling so charitable but, yes, I do understand."
"What about your brother?" Harry asked. "He wasn't particularly keen on magic in the first place."
"Dylan is better than he used to be," Alan told him. "I won't pretend our father's condition hasn't lessened his faith in magic but he is much more accepting of it than before."
"I suppose it must have been hard," Harry said. "To be non-magical and have to watch your brother learn all these amazing things that you could never accomplish."
"He's made his peace with it," Alan said with a shrug. "And besides, there's no way I could work with technology the way he does. He has his own type of magic." Alan glanced around before gesturing for Harry to lean in. "Just one thing, I haven't mentioned to him yet but there seems to be a lot of interesting happenings going on around his house."
Harry's eyebrows raised. "You don't think…?"
Alan nodded. "I think his daughter has some magic in her," he said, his voice sounding incredibly excited. "I'm not completely sure but there have been signs."
"That's great," Harry congratulated him. "Maybe you'll finally have someone to impart your pearls of wisdom to."
Alan chuckled. "I hope so," he said. "My children seem to have made a point of ignoring any advice I may try to give them." He looked at Harry in amusement, his eyes twinkling. "So, Harry, what did you bring me here to talk about?"
Harry straightened, getting back to business. "You're in Gareth Morgan's constituency, aren't you?"
Alan nodded. "Pembrokeshire. Yes, believe it or not I'm one of Morgan's constituents." He chuckled.
"You're not a fan of Morgan?" Harry asked.
"Let's just say I won't be voting for him in the next election," Alan told him. "Although for that matter he is still unopposed so that likely means I won't be voting for anyone at all. Why? Do you like him?"
"Not at all," Harry denied. "He is one of the most mind-numbingly boring people I've ever had the misfortune to meet. He does nothing in the Wizengamot, sometimes I forget he's actually still there."
"Well, if you're so unhappy with him why don't you find someone to run against him," Alan suggested. "Odds are they'll win."
"Yes, well, that was what I was thinking," Harry agreed. "I've been talking with the Political Strategies Director Ron Weasley about this, taking a look at any people from Pembrokeshire who might be interested in running for the seat."
"And?" Alan asked, leaning forward interestedly. Harry looked at him. "No," he said immediately, shaking his head. "No way, I can't run."
"Why not?" Harry asked, seriously curious as to what objections he could have.
"I'd get absolutely destroyed," Alan told him.
"By Gareth Morgan?" Harry questioned. "You'll beat him easily. You just said that if we find someone to run they're almost bound to win."
"I can't do this," Alan told him. "I can't be a Warlock of the Wizengamot. I don't have any experience with politics."
"And yet you are smarter than most of the Warlocks currently in the Wizengamot," Harry argued. "Okay, look at it this way, there is no one else in your constituency that would be good enough for the Wizengamot. So it's either you or we give Gareth Morgan another four years on a government salary. It's your choice."
They sat in silence for a few minutes, Harry calm and composed, Alan fidgety and uncertain. Sighing, Harry looked at his watch.
"Listen Alan, while I'd love to just sit here with you we're out of time," Harry told him. "There's another meeting due to take place here so we need to clear out. Go home, talk to your wife, then call me tomorrow with your yes. Filing deadline's one week today."
Harry stood up, prompting Alan to do the same.
"Harry," he said, stopping Harry as he turned to the door. "If I were to accept and get elected to the Wizengamot, would all our meetings be like this."
Harry smiled. "Pretty much," he said with a grin. "It's great, isn't it."
Alan smiled back. "I'll call you with my answer tomorrow," he told him, picking up his cloak and throwing it over his shoulders. "In the meantime, good day to you, Harry."
"Good day, Alan," Harry replied as he watched the next Warlock for Pembrokeshire walk out the door.
"Lizzie!" Dennis called, sitting behind his desk with a file open before him. Lizzie appeared in his doorway, clipboard at the ready in what had been one of her busiest days so far. "This report from Neville on the farm subsidies, is there any background information? It just seems as though I'm walking into a conversation half way through, if you know what I'm saying."
Lizzie walked up to his desk and stuck her hand into the mountain of parchment, eventually pulling out a small two page file scribbled hastily in Neville's handwriting.
"Thanks," Dennis said, slightly embarrassed to find the sheet had been on his desk all along. "Sorry about that."
"That's okay," Lizzie said shortly, not looking at him.
Dennis grimaced. "I said I was sorry," he told her, his voice a mixture of annoyance and pleading for her forgiveness. "I'd love to meet your parents, you know I would. I'm just nervous, that's all. I just don't think they'd take kindly to me being with you. Can you honestly tell me they don't have a problem with it?"
Lizzie hesitated, telling Dennis all he needed to know.
"Lizzie!" Cho called from outside the office. "You've got a call."
Lizzie bustled outside, thankful for the opportunity to avoid answering Dennis's question. Dennis, not wanting to let her off the hook that easily, followed her outside.
"Hello, this is Dennis Creevey's office, how can I help you?" Lizzie said as she answered the phone, trying to ignore the way Dennis was hovering around her. "Sure. If you'll just hold on a second I'll patch you through."
"Who is it?" Dennis asked, his curiosity winning out over his desire to continue their argument.
"Bolivia's Communications Director," Lizzie answered, causing Dennis's eyebrows to fly up. "He wanted to talk to Harry but Cho sent him through to you." Dennis gulped. "I'll put him through to your office."
Dennis wandered slowly back to his office, trying desperately to gather his wits as he sat behind his desk. Suddenly his phone rang, startling him. Calming down, Dennis picked it up on the fourth ring. "Dennis Creevey."
"Mr Creevey," a voice answered from the other end of the phone, the accent undeniably South American. "This is Teo Ochoa, from the Bolivian Ministry of Magic. I am to understand it that you are Deputy Communications Director at the British Ministry?"
"Yes, that is correct, how can I help you?" Dennis asked, trying to ignore how he could feel sweat build up on his forehead.
"I'm sorry for being difficult with you Mr Creevey," Teo apologised. "But it is imperative that I speak with Mr Potter."
"Harry's got an important meeting today," Dennis told him. "I'm not sure when it will finish but if you want I can have him call you when he's done."
"I'm sorry Mr Creevey but I need to speak to Harry now," Teo said urgently. "It is of utmost importance that I talk to Harry."
"May I ask what this is about?" Dennis enquired, his interest and sense of foreboding overwhelming his nervousness as he waited for a response.
"Peru," was the simple answer on the other end of the phone, an answer that worried Dennis greatly. Craning his neck to see Lizzie at her desk, he gesticulated wildly for her to come over, still holding the phone to his ear.
"Alright, I'll see if I can get hold of him," Dennis said over the phone, his voice remarkably calm as he scribbled a quick note on a blank scrap of parchment. "Is there anything else you can tell me?" Dennis asked, sliding the parchment across the desk and giving Lizzie a meaningful look, who quickly read the parchment and nodded.
GET HARRY NOW!
Without a moment's pause Lizzie walked straight back out of the office, quickly looking for her colleague. "Cho," she called as she spotted the other assistant walking out of Harry's office. "Where's Harry?"
"Why?" Cho asked as she walked over to her desk, pulling over some more parchment.
"Dennis needs him," Lizzie told her. "It seems urgent."
Cho looked up, noticing the stress on the younger girl's face and putting two and two together. "Check the Murphy Room," Cho told her, going through some paperwork to find Harry's schedule. "If he's not there try Meeting Room 3, Hermione's office, Neville's office or Amos' office." Cho paused. "Check Remus's office too while you're at it."
Lizzie nodded, hurrying away and down the corridors, stopping briefly as she passed Hermione's office.
"Hey Demelza, is Harry in there?" she asked breathlessly. Demelza shook her head mutely so Lizzie was quick to hurry on, quickly reaching her destination and, upon seeing Harry inside, knocking on the door.
Harry glanced up, the knock having interrupted a quite pleasant fantasy of strangling the Ministry organiser as she discussed flower arrangements with them, managing to even tire out Ginny's enthusiasm for the celebration.
"Just a sec," he muttered, recognising the slightly stricken look on Lizzie's face and knowing that something, whatever it might be, had happened, and that now the rest of his day would be engulfed in it.
Walking out of the room Harry gave Lizzie a second to catch her breath before pressing on. "What's happening?" he asked quietly, glancing down the corridor to ensure they weren't overheard.
"Dennis asked me to get you," Lizzie told him. "He got a call from the Communications Director in Bolivia, Teo Ochoa. He was actually calling for you but Cho passed him on to Dennis and then Dennis asked me to get you." Lizzie ceased her babbling long enough to hand Harry the note.
Reading it, Harry grimaced, not liking where things were going. "What else do we know?"
"That's it," Lizzie responded. "Dennis was still on the phone when I left so he might have more information."
Harry nodded. "Thanks Lizzie," he told her, quickly hurrying away down the corridor without a backward glance, not seeing the look Ginny sent him as he passed the Murphy Room, the concern in her eyes powerful.
Walking into Dennis's office Harry found Dennis standing behind his desk, the phone lying upon it. "Is he on?"
Dennis nodded. "He didn't want to tell me much so I put him on hold until you got here."
Harry nodded in acceptance. "Did he mention anything about what this might be about?" he asked, knowing that something had to have been said to provoke such a response.
"Peru," Dennis said. "That's all he would tell me. Other than that he just stressed how important it is that he talk to you immediately."
"Alright," said Harry, picking up the phone. "Good job. Do you mind if I use your office?" Dennis shook his head, walking round his desk and exiting the office, closing the door behind him.
Watching Dennis go, Harry took a second to compose himself, before answering the phone. "This is Harry Potter, may I ask who I'm talking to?"
"Harry, it's Teo," came the voice of Teo Ochoa on the other end, the man sounding awfully relieved to be hearing from him. "I'm sorry for all this secrecy and everything but this is very important and it is vital that no one finds out about this."
"Teo," Harry said nervously, not liking the way this conversation was going. "What is it you've got yourself into?"
"Something big, Harry," Teo answered. "I've got a man named Roberto Caro with me in the Ministry."
Harry froze. "Roberto Caro," Harry said slowly. "Any relation of…?"
"Brother," Teo confirmed. "You were aware he was in Bolivia?"
"I wasn't aware he was at the Ministry," Harry responded. "Has he been there all along?"
"No," Teo told him. "He just turned up today." There was a long pause. "Harry, I need you to come over here. Immediately."
Harry let out a breath. "I can't be there immediately," he warned. "It'll take time to arrange an international port key."
"How long?"
Harry took a moment, quickly estimating in his head. "Two to three hours," he answered.
"Give me a call when you are planning to leave," Teo told him. "I'll meet you when you get here. See you soon."
"Teo, wait," Harry said, taking a moment to check Teo had heard before continuing. "You said this was about Peru?"
"I think it's obvious how this is about Peru," Teo replied, slightly confused.
"Yes, I agree, but I just want to warn you," Harry continued, taking an agonising breath. "If this involves military strategy there is nothing I can do. I can't decide Ministry policy."
There was silence over the phone. "Just get here, Harry," Teo told him. "Roberto Caro has something to say and I think you really should hear him out. Once you get here we can figure everything out."
Harry took a breath. "Okay," he said. "Bye." The phone went dead in his hand. Slowly Harry lowered the phone back down onto the desk and rested it in its port, his mind reeling. After about a minute the door opened.
"Lizzie said the call had been disconnected," Dennis told him as he looked inside. Harry nodded, turning fully to face his deputy. "Is everything okay?"
Harry bit his lip, glancing down at the phone. "I don't know."
"Amos, there you are, I haven't seen you all day," the Minister said from behind his desk as he signed paper after paper as Blaise passed them to him. "Blaise has got me signing proclamations by the hat load. Seriously, he could be putting anything in front of me and I'd still be signing it."
"It's concerning that Blaise has that kind of power," Amos noted as Blaise handed the Minister another paper to sign.
"Very," the Minister agreed as he signed his name. "But we've been doing this for a little over two years now and I haven't managed to auction off any particular part of the country yet. I think we're safe."
"That you know of," Amos warned him.
"Right," the Minister said, handing over the last of the signed papers back to Blaise. "Say, Blaise, if you had managed to trick me into making you a regional prince or some such, would you at least tell me after you had?"
"Certainly sir," Blaise replied smoothly. "Although if I had tricked you into signing an executive order to excavate a mountain in order to house a secret cave from which I could fight crime wearing a stupid mask I might not tell you in order not to give away my secret identity."
The Minister pulled his glasses off and looked at Blaise interestedly. "Now there's a thought," he said, placing one end of his glasses against his lip.
"I'll just get these filed," Blaise told him, gesturing to the papers as he made his way from the room.
"Thanks Blaise," the Minister called after him, turning his attention back to Amos. "Wouldn't that be something, huh, Blaise working for the Minister during the day but by night he roams the countryside, protecting the weak and the innocent from the world's cruel injustice."
"It'd be something," Amos agreed. "Especially since you keep him working twenty-four seven."
"He'll have an accomplice then," the Minister waved away. "Someone with no commitments and no need for human contact who can sit in a dark cave all day waiting for a call." The Minister finished his dramatic statement before tapping his glasses on his desk. "What'd you come here for?"
"I just spoke with Kingsley," Amos told him, noting immediately the sag to the Minister's shoulders. He waved for him to go on. "So far there has been little resistance to our forces coming in from the Bolivian border," Amos told him. "A few small scuffles but in general those we've come across have been sympathetic to our cause."
"Manuel was a great friend to the farmers," the Minister commented. "It's no surprise they're unhappy that he's been brutally overthrown. It'll be in the towns and the cities where this will be won or lost."
"Then we're coming up to our first real tests," Amos told him. "Troops are closing in on the cities of Juliaca and Puno in the south east of the country."
"Population?"
"Puno, about 150,000," Amos answered. "Juliaca, more like 200,000."
"Are we to expect much resistance in these areas?" the Minister asked tiredly.
"Not particularly," Amos told him. "Naturally the locals aren't too thrilled with us walking through their country and undoubtedly some will make a fuss and fighting is almost bound to break out. But on the whole these cities, and indeed the entire Puno region, is quite cut off from the current power struggle. My guess is we'll only truly know how hard this will be once we've made our way to the west coast and gone through Ica, Pisco, Canete and of course Lima."
"There's a lot of anti-British sentiment in the area?" the Minister asked. "How much of this is simply anger against an invading nation and how much is real support for the new regime?"
"To be honest at this point it's both," Amos answered. "Those angry with our intervention are running to stand behind the new regime. At least they're Peruvian."
"Peruvian mobsters more like," the Minister grouched. "Does it not bother these people the manner in which their leader was removed from power?"
"The new leader, Lazaro Casales, has been spouting rhetoric along the lines of Manuel Caro supplying Europe and America with Peruvian produce for little fee in order to cosy up to their leaders and enjoy a more luxurious lifestyle than his citizens could afford."
"We never traded with Caro, did we?" the Minister questioned. "So this Lazaro can just make these things up and no one questions it?"
"A lot of people do," Amos said, feeling the need to speak up for the Peruvian public. "But they're afraid to speak out, their leader was just brutally executed. And besides, if you were some common Peruvian sock merchant who are you most likely to believe, one of your own or some politician back in London."
The Minister let out a huff, anger at the entire situation getting to him as it often did when he discussed military strategy with Amos. "Is that everything, Amos?" he asked curtly.
"Not quite, Minister," Amos replied, knowing to tread carefully when the Minister got into these moods. "We've got word from the front line of a situation that could possibly be brewing in a small village not far from the shore of Lake Titicaca."
"What's the situation?" the Minister asked.
"The village is home to a few Casales supporters who, upon hearing that British troops were approaching, have started to stockpile ammunition," Amos told him.
"How concerned are we about this?" the Minister asked, leaning forward in his seat.
"They are very few in number," Amos assured him. "And their supply of weapons is minimal. That doesn't mean that they won't be a threat should we decide to just bypass the village."
The Minister nodded. "What does Kingsley suggest?"
"Kingsley believes we cannot take the risk of ignoring this threat," Amos told him. "An attack upon these men would likely only provide outrage amongst those who hadn't already been supporting Casales, as well as being an ethical quandary. Kingsley suggests we send in an extraction team to seize the weapons."
"Seize the weapons?" the Minister repeated. "And you think that'll neutralise the threat?"
"Without weapons the only thing these guys can do is throw stones at us," Amos reasoned. "I'd think it'd be safe to consider the threat neutralised if that were the case."
The Minister nodded. "Okay, give Kingsley the green light," he told Amos, turning to the documents laying before him. "I want updates throughout the day."
"Yes sir," Amos said, turning to leave.
"Amos," the Minister called to him, stopping him halfway to the door. "Do you know what's going on with Harry and Bolivia?"
Amos shook his head. "I'm afraid we're all in the dark on that one," he said. "We'll just have to wait until Harry gets back."
The Minister nodded solemnly. "We'll just have to wait," he repeated. "Good luck, Amos."
"You too, Minister," Amos replied as he walked out the door, closing it behind him with a soft click.
Harry stumbled as the international port key deposited him roughly at the end of a long blur of sounds and colours which Harry hated with a passion. He'd never been a fan of port key travel, ever since his very first experience, and while the magic had been improved upon over the last decade a journey from one side of the world to the other still left its mark.
Harry didn't have much time to get hold of his bearings as he was quickly escorted off the port key platform, ensuring that he would not get in the way of any new arrivals. As he was finally released Harry turned his gaze to the door.
Teo Ochoa was a short man with an anxious looking face, the perfect disguise for the real anxiety Harry could see in his Bolivian counterpart at that moment.
"Harry, thank god you're here," Teo said, sounding very relieved. "Follow me, I'll take you to somewhere we can speak privately."
Harry followed Teo out the door and into the main atrium of the Bolivian Ministry. The room was incredible, a triumph of artistic engineering accomplished by one of the finest wizards to ever have come from South America.
"Teo," Harry murmured, his voice disguised beneath the swarm of Spanish flying around them as office workers and Ministry officials called across to each other.
"Not here," Teo replied shortly, leading Harry through the bustling atrium with determination, keeping his head low as if to avoid people noticing him. Not likely that was going to happen, Harry thought. As the only European in the whole building Harry stood out like a sore thumb.
Teo eventually reached the far end of the atrium, which, Harry noticed after fighting through the last wave of Ministry workers, contained a bank of lifts. After a quick conversation with one of the security guards Teo led Harry into one of the elevators, closing the doors behind him and pressing another button to take them to the right floor.
They stood in silence as the lift started to dip lower, flashes of light passing each time they descended another floor. After a while the lift started to slow down, until it came to a stop, the lift bouncing slightly as it settled into place.
"Teo?" Harry asked, staring through the lift grate and seeing only the dark of the solid stone wall of the lift shaft.
Teo, on the other hand, wasn't listening. Instead he was waving his wand around himself in weird squiggles and twirls, mumbling softly under his breath as he went. It was only when Harry felt a wave of magic pass over him and imbed itself in the lift floor and walls did he realise what Teo was doing. Privacy charms. Powerful ones.
Teo stopped moving, his wand still held out in front of him as though he was to proceed with more spells and incantations. After a second he sighed and lowered his wand arm, his entire body seeming to sag.
"I'm sorry about all this, Harry," he told him, sounding genuinely apologetic. "It's just that this is incredibly sensitive and if the wrong people find out…"
"Teo," Harry said softly, looking at his counterpart. "Is the water over your head?"
Teo let out a bitter laugh. "I'm not sure there's anyone whose head the water's at," he responded. "But I'm the one this particular phenomenon has happened to, so I have no choice but to deal with it as best I can."
Harry nodded. "Tell me about Roberto Caro."
Teo took in a breath. "At the time of the chaos starting in Peru Roberto Caro was visiting the city of Sacaba, capital of the Chapare province," Teo explained to him. "Roberto has never been particularly interested in politics, though not for a lack of intellect or understanding. Roberto is one of South America's leading experts on our magical history, mostly in Peru but his work encompasses Colombia, Chile, Paraguay, Uruguay, Ecuador and of course Bolivia."
"Why's he here?" Harry asked.
Teo glanced around the lift, as though looking for what to say. "He's smart," Teo repeated. "And his brother has just been murdered by rebels, rebels who now rule over his country. Can you imagine he'd be happy with that?"
"I can imagine if he wanted to do anything about it he wouldn't have waited so long to seek the help of the Bolivian Ministry," Harry argued.
"When Minister Caro was executed we sent a security detail to protect Roberto, we feared the rebels felt their job wasn't finished without completely wiping out the Caro family." Teo paused for breath. "Our intelligence has shown no attempts, no hints even, of an attempt on his life. Naturally Minister Hernandez didn't want to waste our man power, especially with this coup happening in one of our neighbouring countries, so-"
"So he pulled the security and left Roberto Caro free from any form of surveillance," Harry concluded. "How long ago did this happen?"
"No more than a week ago," Teo informed him. "He arrived at the Ministry late last night, when only the night security team were here. The night watchman called our head of security, who came in and talked to Señor Caro before informing the Minister of his findings."
"Who else knows about his?" Harry asked suddenly, his mind whirring as he went through all the names Teo had just alluded to.
"Edmundo Rosales, the Chief of Staff, and myself," Teo answered. "We've had each member of the security team last night submit a magically binding oath that they will not speak of this to anyone."
"Okay," Harry said slowly. "So you've got all bases covered? No one's suspicious?"
Teo hesitated. "Our Deputy Chief of Staff is curious," he replied. "He won't look into this, though. He doesn't have the tendency to need answers so he'll be perfectly happy to just let it lie. With any luck no one will find out until Roberto's completed what he came here to achieve."
"And what is that?" Harry asked sharply. "Why did Caro come here? And why did he come in the middle of the night? What's so important that he couldn't risk people even getting a hint that he'd come to the Ministry?"
"That," Teo said slowly, tapping his wand against the side of the lift, causing it to shudder back to life. "Is something you should really discuss with him."
The doors to the lift opened out onto a long dark corridor, nothing but solid stone in sight as the corridor seemed to stretch on forever. Harry immediately recognised the place for what it was. The interrogation rooms.
Teo led Harry down the corridor, stopping at the third door on the left. Ignoring the fact that the door had no handle Teo tapped it several times with his wand. For a second nothing happened, until the door started to disappear into the wall beside it with a soft grinding noise, revealing the man on the other side.
Harry had never met Manuel Caro, or even seen him in person, but he had seen photos, and the man sitting behind the solid stone table could not be mistaken for anyone but Manuel's brother.
"Señor Caro," Teo said respectfully as he walked inside, prodding Harry to do the same. As soon as they had both stepped over the threshold the door started to grind back into place, eventually falling in perfectly in the doorway, leaving no visible clue to the fact it had ever been there.
"Señor Ochoa," Roberto Caro replied smoothly, his voice deep and gravelly, very in keeping with the dark and brooding persona he held as he sat still in his seat, not acknowledging Harry until he was introduced.
"Señor Caro, this is the British Communications Director, Harry Potter," Teo told him. "Harry, this is Roberto Caro."
"It's a pleasure to meet you," Harry said, almost on reflex as he looked down at where Roberto Caro was sitting.
"The pleasure is all mine," Roberto replied, his eyes slowly scanning Harry's face, sizing him up with an almost disturbing calm. "So, you came."
Harry nodded and suddenly all his training, all his experience in foreign affairs returned to him. Snapping out of his stupor Harry moved swiftly to take a seat across from Roberto, noting as he did so that Teo remained standing, unobtrusively out of the way. "You wished to speak to me."
"I wished to speak with a representative of your Ministry," Roberto replied slowly. "Teo was the one who chose you."
"I'm flattered," Harry said blandly, not for one moment caring who had decided to bring him in. "What business did you wish to conduct with my Ministry?"
Roberto considered him for a long moment, his dark, intelligent eyes watching Harry's intently. "I wish to speak with your Minister for Magic," he told him. "I understand he knew my brother well."
Harry took a moment to think about that answer, something telling him to think through everything he said as though there were a double meaning. "I don't imagine you wish to speak to him for personal reasons." Roberto didn't answer, instead holding him with a steady stare as he thought things through. "What business do you wish to conduct with my Minister?"
"That," Roberto said. "Is between Minister Weasley, and myself."
Harry shook his head. "I'm afraid I can't accept that Mr Caro," he told him, watching as Roberto seemed to lean back slightly as he spoke. "I can only arrange meetings with the Minister if I am convinced he should take the meeting, and given what I know so far a meeting between the two of you could be potentially catastrophic."
Harry waited for an answer, watching Roberto Caro with a steady gaze as he continued to sit there quietly. It was hard to know, boxed in a room that seemed out of touch with the real world up above them, but it seemed to be at least ten minutes before Harry decided to speak again, breaking the silence.
"Mr Caro, I am your ticket to Minister Weasley," Harry told him. "If you won't tell me what you wish to speak about I cannot allow you to meet." Again Roberto said nothing.
Harry let out a frustrated sigh, glancing angrily at his watch as he felt his irritation build with the man before him. "Fine," he said suddenly, his annoyance reaching its tipping point. "I'm not sitting here for silence. I'm a busy man and if you're not willing to speak to me then I'm not just going to wait." Harry sprang to his feet, turning his back to the Peruvian to face the wall where he knew the door was concealed.
"I wish to go home," Roberto said softly, stopping Harry in his tracks. "I wish to return to my Peruvian homeland."
Harry turned back to face him, noticing the slight desperation hidden beneath his cool facade, the first true emotion he'd seen in him since they'd met. Taking a calming breath Harry moved back to his seat and sat down, once again face to face with Roberto Caro.
"It's not safe for you to return to Peru," Harry told him. "Once Casales hears you're back in the country he will not rest until he's got your head. Your very existence is a threat to his regime, he won't let you live."
Roberto nodded, a sadness in his eyes as he accepted what he'd said and Harry for the first time started to wonder just how hard it must be for the man before him. His family; dead. His home; a soon to be war-zone. His people; after his head.
"I understand, Señor Potter," Roberto said softly. "It is the reason I have not just walked back over the border myself. I know that, for as long as Casales remains in charge, I cannot return."
"But you want to return," Harry said slowly. "And you are here to find a way to return." Harry stopped, licking his lips hesitantly. "Mr Caro, before we go any further I must be frank with you." Roberto nodded for him to continue. "I cannot decide British foreign policy. Not here, without consultation. If you have plans for Peru I have to bring it to the Minister."
"You are one of his chief advisors?" Roberto asked, regarding Harry carefully.
"I am," Harry acknowledged. "But I don't have the experience to advise the Minister on military issues."
"This isn't a military issue," Roberto told him. "It's a foreign policy issue."
"What is it that you propose?" Harry asked.
"I propose," Roberto said slowly, for the first time leaning forward as he speak. "That when Lazaro Casales is defeated I be installed as Minister of Peru."
Harry trekked down the corridor of the British Ministry of Magic, shaking with adrenaline and nerves as he hurried towards his office, scowling at anyone who got in his way.
"I'm back," he announced as he moved past Cho's work station, not even pausing to properly greet her as he made his way to his office, throwing his cloak randomly inside and hoping it landed on something other than the floor.
"Hey Harry," Ron said, standing in the doorway of his office as Harry re-emerged from his own.
"Can't talk," Harry said shortly, cutting off anything Ron might wish to have said as he walked past him.
"Harry, Ginny was asking where you were," Cho told him.
"I had something to do," Harry said shortly.
"She wanted to know when you'd be back," Cho pressed.
"I'll be back when I'm back," Harry snapped, whirling to face Cho who leaned away from him on instinct, her eyes wide. "I've got to speak to the Minister."
"I'll call ahead," Cho said quietly, her face pale as Harry stood staring at her. With a nod Harry turned his back, beginning to make his way along the corridor.
"Harry, wait, what's going on?" Ron said, refusing to let Harry walk away.
"Not now, Ron," Harry said shortly, pulling away.
"Harry," Ron said warningly but Harry wasn't in the mood.
"Not now, Ron," he repeated loudly. "Just, leave it, okay. I need to talk to the Minister." And with that he stormed away, leaving behind a quiet corridor as everyone stood in silence. Ron turned, looking away from where Harry had disappeared off to and catching sight of Cho instead, her face still pale as she stood shellshocked. Ron gave her a small nod, a minute expression of encouragement. Cho gulped, before nodding in return and walking back to her desk, picking up the phone to make a call. Passing his gaze across the workstations one last time Ron returned to his office, quietly sitting behind his desk and leaning back in his chair, watching his open office door.
Ron was focused as he sat there, and so when Harry passed by the door, visible for only a brief moment, Ron spotted him immediately. He stayed calm, although inside he was beyond worried, and slowly got to his feet, quietly walking round his desk and out of his office, turning round the corner to see into Harry's.
Harry sat with his head in his hands, shaking slightly as he sat in barely concealed agony. It broke Ron, to see his friend in such a state, and he knew immediately the only thing that could be the cause of the problem.
"Harry," he said softly, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. There was no response. Harry acted as though he hadn't even heard him.
There was a long silence.
"Are you regretting it?" Ron asked quietly, quickly cutting to the chase as he leaned against the bookcase, watching Harry carefully. Harry sighed slightly, not looking at Ron as the uncontrollable shaking stopped, Ron's very presence seeming to help him pull himself together.
"Proposing?" Harry asked, not looking up. His voice was scratchy. "Committing myself to spend the rest of my life with the woman I love?" Harry looked up at Ron. "No, I'm not regretting it?"
"Then what's the problem?" Ron asked, his voice low as he wondered. "You're not okay, Harry. Something is bothering you and that something is about the wedding, I know it. That can be the only thing that would make you act like this. What's wrong?"
Harry pulled his head from his hands slowly, staring down at the desk unseeing as he thought over Ron's question. "When you were young did you ever dream about what your wedding would be like?" Harry asked. "Did you ever imagine the feeling as you stood there and watched your beautiful bride walk down the aisle, friends and family sitting and standing all around you?"
"No," Ron responded quietly, shaking his head. "I thought that was just something young girls did. Did you ever think about that?"
Harry shook his head. "No, it is something for young girls," he said sadly. "In truth I never thought about things like my wedding or my first child or my first grandchild. Not until Sirius died."
Ron had to hold back a gasp as he realised what Harry was talking about, the enormity of the issue slamming into him like a freight train.
"After he died," Harry continued, not noticing Ron's reaction. "I started to think about these things. I would imagine all these things and it would destroy me how I knew that of all my friends and family that would be there, Sirius couldn't. I used to have some of the weirdest dreams…" Harry tailed off, his mind faraway in memory.
"Tell me," Ron told him, surprising Harry from his introspection. "Tell me your dreams."
Harry regarded him for a moment, before nodding. "There was this one dream," he started, his gaze going to the magically enchanted window beside him. "It was the most common, I still remember it clearly."
"It would be my wedding day," Harry told him, his expression bittersweet. "I would be standing there in front of rows and rows of indistinguishable faces, men in suits, women in ballgowns, with this big bright light streaming from everything. My bride would walk down the aisle and I'd think I was the happiest man in the world."
Harry's expression darkened. "Then I'd turn to my best man for the rings," he said, his voice heavy. "And there he'd be, standing just behind this nameless being of a best man. Sirius. He was so clear, everything about him was perfectly as I remembered. He would just stand there and smile, and as he did the bright light of everything else would start to darken and grey and then all that would be left was him, standing alone in the darkness."
"And what then?" Ron asked softly, careful not to disturb him.
"Then I'd wake up," Harry said simply. "I'd wake up in the dormitory or back at Grimmauld Place and I'd just stare at the ceiling. Then, eventually, when I got too tired to keep my eyes open they'd fall closed and I'd see Sirius again, like his image was ingrained on the inside of my eyelids."
There was silence in the room as he finished, the only sound being the soft pattering of rain on the window, the sound completely artificial. Harry continued to stare into space while Ron stood watching him, getting only a brief glimpse into what his friend had been going through in those trying years.
"When was the last time you had this dream?" Ron asked carefully, a theory already in his head.
"They stopped when I hit twenty, more or less," Harry responded. "I've had them a couple of times since then, but usually for no particular reason."
"Until last night," Ron suggested, sensing he was right.
"Since a week ago," Harry replied. "It was when Ginny was away in France and I was alone in the flat. It came to me as a surprise, there'd been nothing to suggest I'd go back to it. But I did, and I have done so every night since."
"Does Ginny know about this?" Ron asked carefully, knowing better than to get too involved with his best friend and his sister.
"She knows something's up," Harry admitted, a frown on his face as he thought about what he was hiding from her. "I've woken up before her every day. Add that on to the fact that I'm so tired all the time she knows I'm not getting enough rest."
"Why haven't you told her?" Ron asked. "I thought you told each other everything."
"We do," Harry replied hollowly. "It's just getting close to the wedding now. So close. I just… I just don't want her to think I don't want to go through with it."
"But you do want to?" Ron said, hoping with all his might that he was right.
"More than anything," Harry replied sincerely.
"Then tell her that," Ron told him. "It may not halt the dreams but it'll make you feel better. And she'll feel better about being able to help you."
"What if they never go away?" Harry asked, his voice for the first time betraying his fear. "I can cope with it now but if this is going to be a constant for years and years I won't manage."
"It won't be like this for years," Ron promised him. "You've got through this exact problem before, I'm sure you'll be able to snap yourself out of it just as easy. And if that doesn't work we have healers for this type of thing. I promise you."
Harry looked at Ron as he spoke, desperately wanting to believe he was speaking the truth. Eventually a small smile worked its way onto his face, a smile that spoke not of happiness but of trust. "Thanks Ron," he said softly.
"Don't mention it," Ron replied, pushing himself off the bookcase and into a standing position. "Well, if you're feeling better I've got to head off."
"A meeting?" Harry asked, starting to get back to normal after his confession.
"Yeah," Ron replied. "I'm about twenty minutes late now, but who cares. See you tomorrow." Ron left the room, giving Harry one final nod of encouragement as he disappeared from view. Inside the office Harry sat in silence, staring unseeingly out the door.
"I thought I'd find you here."
Harry blinked, his eyes coming into focus as he finally noticed the person who'd walked in. "I just got back," he defended himself quickly. "I promise I haven't been hiding out here the whole time."
Ginny smiled, her expression telling him she understood more than he had realised. "I know, Cho's been keeping me up to date," she told him, approaching his desk.
"Cho," Harry muttered softly, starting to remember what had just happened. "Damn, I need to apologise to her. I said some things…"
"She understands, Harry," Ginny told him softly. "If you think the people around you haven't noticed how worked up you've been all week then you don't give them enough credit."
"So you know," Harry said softly, almost sadly as he looked at Ginny. "I thought you might suspect something."
"I get up when you get up, Harry," Ginny told him. "Don't think I haven't noticed you waking up at 3, 4 in the morning and trying to pretend you're still asleep."
Harry grimaced. "I wanted to tell you what was going on," he promised. "I really did. But I was worried you'd read into it too much, that you'd misunderstand what it really means."
"Harry," Ginny spoke. "When was the last time you held back what you were really thinking? I know how you think, how you feel. Don't you think I understand that you care about me? I understand, Harry. I understand."
Harry swallowed thickly. "I want to tell you," he said, his throat constricted. "It's important to me that I do. But not today."
"You've got something you need to work on," Ginny concluded. "Is it big?" Harry nodded.
"Bigger than anything I've ever had to deal with," Harry told her. "Tonight I have to be in the Ministry. I can't tell you why, I can't tell anyone why. I just have to be here."
Ginny nodded. "I understand," she told him and she meant it too, a lifetime of being surrounded by important Ministry and Wizengamot members having taught her to appreciate what free time Harry had. "I'm just going back to talk to the organiser."
"I'm sorry you've had to deal with her alone all day," Harry said. "And I apologise for the way I've been acting about the wedding preparations too. I'll be more cooperative, I promise. It's just now I need to make some calls."
Ginny smiled. "Harry, you don't need to explain yourself to me," she told him. "I know you better than you know yourself." She leaned across the desk and kissed him softly. "I'll see you tonight," she told him. "I'll stay up until you're back."
"I might not be back until very late," Harry warned her as she made her way to the door. "You should get some sleep."
Ginny smiled. "I'll stay up until you're back," she promised him, turning in the doorway to flash him one last smile before disappearing out of sight. Harry leaned back in his chair, feeling more relaxed than he had for quite some time as he stared out at the everyday bustle of the Ministry of Magic. Slowly, and with a heavy heart, Harry leaned forward in his seat and reached for the phone.
"Alright," Dennis said quietly, listening to the voice on the other end of the phone. "Okay, is there any specific time or should I just hang around?" He paused again as he listened to the response. "Okay, I'll be there," he promised. "Talk to you later."
He hung up the phone. He stood there, stock still, one hand still on the phone as he processed the information he'd just received and thought about the ramifications on his immediate plans. Dennis let out a puff of air, running a hand through his hair in frustration as he thought about what he'd have to do.
"Here's the draft from the speechwriting team," Lizzie told him as she walked into his office, handing him a scroll of parchment. "They said any comments would be appreciated. Also Cho just sent over another of Harry's assignments; all the details are in this folder." Dennis accepted the folder silently, dreading what he was about to say. "I just wanted to run through some plans for tonight as well," Lizzie continued. "My parents are arriving at six and-"
"I'm not having dinner with them tonight," Dennis said hollowly, glancing up and wincing at the look of shock and anger on Lizzie's face.
"I thought we'd been over this," she said thunderously, quickly making Dennis wish he were anywhere else.
"I just got a call from Daphne," Dennis told her, desperate for her to hear his excuse. "The Minister wants me to stay here tonight."
"Why?" Lizzie asked, her anger fading to be replaced by bewilderment.
"She wouldn't say," Dennis replied. "To be honest I don't even think she knows. All I can tell is that it's important." Dennis paused, his gaze looking over Lizzie's shoulder and across to the offices opposite. "I'm going to talk to Harry, see if he knows what's going on."
Lizzie nodded, her expression deeply disappointed. "Do… do you need me to stay?" she asked quietly.
Dennis shook his head. "No, you go see your parents," he told her, moving around his desk to leave the office. "And please apologise on my behalf." He stopped in the doorway, looking back at Lizzie's sad face.
"I did want to meet them," he assured her. "They're staying in town overnight?" She nodded. "Why don't you make room in the schedule so we can have lunch."
Lizzie looked up hopefully and, seeing his sincere expression, broke out into a smile. Seeing this Dennis smiled back, relief flowing through his body. Without another word he left the office, walking over to where Harry's office door remained closed.
"Come in," Harry called as Dennis knocked, prompting him to push open the door to see Harry speaking on the phone.
"So you'll do that?" Harry asked, holding up a hand to keep Dennis quiet. As he listened to the response Ron appeared in the office too, looking just as confused as Dennis felt. "Alright, call me back when you've done that."
Harry looked up at Ron and Dennis as he hung up the phone. "Are you both here for the same thing?" he asked, eyebrows raised.
"We could be," Ron suggested, glancing sideways at Dennis as he spoke. "What is this that's happening tonight?"
Harry leaned back in his chair, surveying his two colleagues carefully as he considered Ron's question. "Close the door."
There was a short sucking sound, not unlike a muggle vacuum cleaner, as Teo Ochoa and Roberto Caro were deposited on the floor of the deserted Ministry atrium. It was very late, so late that nearly everyone had already left, only those that had been asked to stay behind still remaining in the building.
"Mr Caro, Teo," Harry greeted them after a moment, letting them reorientate themselves. "I hope you are well."
"Very," Roberto Caro said, his eyes scanning the vast Ministry atrium.
"I trust no one saw you as you left," Harry pressed on.
"No one," Teo confirmed. "We were careful." Harry nodded.
"This is Hermione Granger," Harry introduced, gesturing to where Hermione stood just a step further back. "She knows a fair bit about port key magic so she'll organise your trip back."
"Thank you, Señiorita Granger," Roberto said smoothly, his eyes quietly assessing Hermione as he spoke.
"It's not a problem, Señor Caro," Hermione told him, accepting the small disk from Teo that had served as their port key to London.
"Follow me," Harry told his South American contingent, turning and walking swiftly through the vast atrium, hearing their footsteps follow after him. He led them into an elevator, not saying a word as they filed in after him. Looking through the grate as it swung closed Harry spotted Hermione in the distance, watching them. For a moment their eyes met, before the elevator jerked to life and lifted Harry out of sight.
They made their way right up to the top floor, still in silence. Teo fidgeted nervously but Roberto remained calm, standing there as though this was no more stressful than standing in the queue for groceries.
As the elevator doors opened Harry swiftly led them out onto the plush red carpet that decorated the top most floor of the Ministry, muffling their footsteps as they marched towards their destination. As they passed by the communications department Dennis appeared from the doorway of his office, whispering urgently in Harry's ear, to which he nodded and dismissed him. They passed through the workstations and past Ron's office, where Ron was sitting quietly behind his desk, rolling Harry's rubber ball between his fingers. Not a word was spoken until they reached the Minister's outer office.
"Is he ready?" Harry asked Daphne quietly, glancing at the closed office door. Daphne picked up her phone and quickly dialled, listening attentively.
"You can go in," Daphne told them, putting down the phone as she did so. Harry nodded, walking to the office door and opening it slowly, leading Teo and Roberto into the Minister's office.
"Minister," Harry spoke, seeing the Minister standing in front of his desk. "May I introduce to you Teo Ochoa, my counterpart in the Bolivian government, and Roberto Caro, brother of the late Peruvian Minister Manuel Caro."
"Mr Ochoa, Mr Caro, very nice to meet you both," the Minister said warmly, although it was clear he was only being polite. "Harry, do you mind giving me some time alone with our guests?"
"Yes, sir," Harry said, moving to exit the office, Teo following him as he realised what was happening. The Minister waited patiently as the door was opened and closed, leaving only himself and Roberto Caro in the office.
"So, Mr Caro, you've been shaking things up around here quite a bit today," the Minister commented mildly.
"Yes, sir," Roberto replied simply, standing respectfully with his hands folded in front of him. The Minister regarded him warily.
"Harry's briefed me on your proposal," the Minister said, cutting to the point. "You want to take your brother's place as Minister once we've captured the rebel leaders."
"Until an election can be held in two years time," Roberto added. "I propose to serve out the remainder of my brothers term of office before letting the people decide who they want as the next leader of their country."
"At the moment it seems as though your people would rather have Lazaro Casales as leader of their country," the Minister commented.
"Only an outspoken minority want this regime to succeed," Roberto argued. "Only those who still think that our country is poor, filled with poverty and hunger, and blame it on an openness to trade and negotiate with other countries, even when the situation has improved enormously since my brother took office."
"We have only a quarter of the number of assaults as Argentina, per 100,000 people," Roberto continued. "Less than a percent of our population are believed to be under the influence of muggle drugs. Our murder rate is less than a tenth than that of Colombia, a so called stable state."
"And yet there are nearly twice as many rapes reported in Peru than Argentina," the Minister countered. "As well as twice as many assaults as Bolivia. As for Colombia, your country trails them on gun related crimes, robberies, and frauds, not to mention that your life expectancy trails Colombia, Argentina, Brazil, Ecuador, Chile, Paraguay and Uruguay."
"I never said we were perfect," Roberto defended. "But we were on the right track. In the last ten years poverty in our country has dropped from 55% to 25%."
"That is impressive," the Minister conceded. "But that's not what you're here to talk about." There was a brief silence. "Why should I, after taking down a rebel power grabber, impose upon the people of Peru another unelected leader?"
"Because," Roberto said slowly, working through his answer in his head. "Because that's your best option."
The Minister raised an eyebrow. "How come?"
"Once Casales has been removed from power there will be a vacuum," Roberto told him. "While you attempt to organise fair elections there will be many people, some of whom share Casales's philosophy of governing, attempting to position themselves as de facto leader of the country. You need someone to pull the people together, a leader who will unite the country behind the ideals of freedom and democracy."
The Minister considered him carefully. "And you believe you are the man to do this?" he asked, wondering if he wasn't right.
"I am in a unique position to do so," Roberto acknowledged. "My brother was not just Minister, he was a symbol to the people of a fair and just society. He may have had his flaws, many of them in fact, but the people did love him. What you're seeing now is the rise of the extremist elements, leaving normal, everyday citizens of Peru fearful of speaking out."
The Minister considered Roberto Caro carefully, slowly leaning back against his desk as he ran an analytical eye over the man before him. "Why are you doing this?" the Minister asked softly. "You aren't a politician, or a leader, or even a legislator. You're a historian."
Roberto didn't say anything. He stood still, an almost uncertain look on his face that seemed so unlike the confident man he had proven himself to be. Yet he didn't speak.
"Manuel told me that he liked to look forward to the future, while you were always more interested in discovering the past," the Minister said softly. "He would never have expected this of you."
Roberto took in a shaky breath. "It's not what he would have expected that matters, Minister," he told him. "It's not about my brother either. Those are my people, Minister, and I will do everything in my power to help them. I never realised, until these last few months, just how important my country is to me. But I do now. So Minister, I'm asking for your help, so I can help my people."
There was silence. Roberto, panting slightly from his impassioned defence of his home nation, stood stock still, as though afraid a wrong move on his part might cause the Minister to decide not to help him. The Minister looked at him long and hard, before opening his mouth.
"Minister," Blaise said, knocking as he opened the office door.
"Yes, Blaise," the Minister recovered quickly, gesturing for Blaise to come inside. Blaise did so, walking up to the Minister and handing him a small note. With a small sigh the Minister put on his glasses and read.
"Tonight troops in Peru engaged in an operation to dispossess known Casales supporters in a small village of their weapons," the Minister spoke, not looking up from the note. "A young soldier, Jonathan Rose, was shot in the chest and passed away fifteen minutes ago."
The Minister looked up at Roberto Caro. "You better be serious," he warned him. "Because if you're not I will bring the full power of the British Ministry of Magic right to your doorstep." The Minister glanced up at Blaise.
"Tell the others they can come in," he ordered, taking off his glasses and walking around his desk. "And once we're finished in here I want to call Jonathan's parents."
"Yes sir," Blaise said, walking out of the office and leaving the door open. A few seconds later people started to flood in; Harry, Hermione, Ron, Neville, Dennis, Remus, Amos, with Teo Ochoa finishing in behind. The Minister waited patiently for everyone to fan themselves out before him before starting to speak.
"Our adventure in Peru is one of mystery," he announced, every man and woman listening in on his every word. "We don't know what will happen, whether we have done what is right or have made a foolish mistake. Yet the only thing we can count on is our ideals, for if we believe we are doing right we are far more likely to succeed than if we feel we are in the wrong."
"And without further ado, allow me to introduce you to the next Minister of Magic for the nation of Peru, Roberto Caro." The room broke out into applause, each person in the room understanding not only what was happening, but the potential consequences, now and for the future. For the British Ministry had committed itself, more firmly than ever before, to peace in Peru.
Harry wandered up to his desk slowly, holding a hand over his face tiredly as he slumped behind his desk. It had been a long day, incredibly long. And emotionally draining too. Between his morning talks with that blasted Ministry organiser, the secret nature of his visit to the Bolivian Ministry and the stress of all these secret arrangements he'd spent the afternoon making, not to mention having taken two inter-continental port keys, he was utterly exhausted, physically and mentally.
"Hey Harry, that's me off," Dennis said, poking his head into the office briefly. Harry waved him away, watching as Dennis quickly disappeared out of sight, ready to finally get some sleep. Glancing at his desk clock Harry noted it was already past two in the morning. There wouldn't be much sleep for any of them tonight.
"Hey Harry," Remus appeared in the doorway, cloak draped over his shoulders. "You heading home?"
"Yeah," Harry said, his voice heavy with the weight of his tiredness. "I just, you know, have to work up the energy to stand up again."
Remus chuckled. "Well, make sure you do," Remus told him. "A bed's a lot more comfy than a chair."
Harry smiled. "I believe that." There was a pause.
"Ochoa and Caro are back in Bolivia?" Remus questioned.
Harry nodded. "The Bolivian Ministry, with US help of course, are in charge of Roberto Caro's safety and protection until we have the chance to install him as Minister." Harry scratched his chin. "Now all we have to do is actually win this damn thing."
Remus gave him a sad smile. "We'll get there," he assured him. "Goodnight Harry."
"Goodnight Remus," Harry replied, watching as Remus too disappeared from sight. With a huge sigh, Harry pulled himself to his feet, grabbing his briefcase and glancing once again at his clock. He paused.
Sitting next to his clock, wrapped in plain wrapping paper, was a small square shaped parcel. Curious, Harry picked it up and started to unwrap it, noting the rather untidy way in which the spellotape had been used and knowing who was responsible for the gift. Finally tugging the wrapping paper loose Harry found himself holding a simple picture frame in his hands. And inside the frame…
"Hey," Ron said from the doorway, having walked in while Harry had been distracted.
Harry looked up, his face pale and his eyes wide with wonder. "You did this?" he whispered softly.
Ron nodded. "Yeah," he responded. "I figured you wouldn't have any."
Harry looked back down at the picture in awe. "How?"
Ron smiled. "You remember that Christmas when I was opening up a chocolate frog and it jumped-"
"Onto your face," Harry finished for him, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "I remember."
"Yeah, well, dad had got this old muggle camera for Christmas and I took it over to yours," Ron told him. "Hermione took the pictures and I had Dean and Seamus produce them. The others are in that brown envelope."
Harry stood still, amazed at both what Ron had done and what he now held in his hands. "Thank you," he whispered eventually, managing to turn his gaze to his friend.
Ron gave him an awkward smile, clearly pleased with himself. With a nod to Harry he wandered out of the office, leaving Harry alone with the picture in his hands.
Harry set it down softly on his desk, careful not to be too rough with it. Finally happy it was safely secure on his desk Harry let go and leaned back, staring down at the picture. With a smile, the most genuine one of his long and hectic day, Harry grabbed his cloak and flung it over his shoulders, picking up his briefcase as he strode out of his office, leaving the picture of Christmas at number 12 Grimmauld Place, with himself and Sirius sitting by the fire, behind.
A/N: Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed. A special thank you for the review pointing out my mistake with Columbia/Colombia. I honestly had no idea Columbia wasn't referring to the country and I had to look it up to figure out the difference so thank you for pointing it out, and as you'll see I've corrected for this in this chapter (Though I don't see a reason to go back and re-upload the last chapter specifically just to change it).
I hope you are all enjoying the story so far and I'll see you in the next chapter.