Chapter 11

Hari's booted foot met the rough stone floor of the Death Chamber, and she glided into the large room as silent as a whisper. Her "work table"—a small desk filled with books, scrolls, and self-writing quills by the foot of the Veil's dais—appeared untouched. A quick check on the ward she put around the room assured her that nobody came into the Death Chamber while she was in another dimension.

Hari nodded to herself, satisfied. One of the conditions she arranged for her solo research into the Veil was that nobody, excluding herself, would be allowed entry into the Death Chamber. She cited safety concerns and the delicacy of her work as the main reasons for this odd request, one which Head Unspeakable Gloome had accepted.

Sometimes, Hari thought, the perks of being Heroine of the Century (according to Witch Weekly) could be useful.

After double checking the wards she had put in place, Hari took out a flask from the pocket of her dark green robes. It was an Ageing Potion of her own make. She pulled out the cork stopper and downed the contents, the strong smell of bananas hitting her nose.

She conjured a full-length mirror and watched herself transform; her face creased into slight laugh lines and the thin beginnings of crow's feet on both sides of her face; her full, dark hair grew longer. Her eyes remained the same bright, emerald shade of green, but the glow of her youth mellowed into a slightly older face. She was now looking at what her forty-year-old self should have looked like, if she had not stopped aging. With a practiced flick of her fingers, she arranged her hair into a simple French twist, transfigured her travel cloak and robes into the gray dress-and-robe ensemble of her Unspeakable uniform, and left the Death Chamber with her research notes tucked under one arm.

As expected, the semi-dark hallway that led into the Death Chamber was empty. Hari took advantage of the quiet and solitude to take a deep breath and ready herself for the chaos.

She opened the door at the end of the hall, to the Entrance Chamber that served as the nexus to all the chambers and hallways that make up the Unspeakable Division. The nexus itself looked simple: a low room with a dark marble floor and dark walls, and twelve identical doors that had no handles or markings. But it was a room layered in some of the most complex wards and enchantments Hari had ever seen; some doors could only be opened by people who have been keyed into the wards and spoke the correct password, while some only needed the correct words to be spoken. There were even rumors going around that one of the doors are blood warded, a rumor that had neither been confirmed nor refuted by any Unspeakable. Hari herself had only a hunch, but thought it was too unprofessional of her to ask, Heroine or not.

Hari closed the door where she came out of, and immediately the doors began to rotate several times.

"Ministry Atrium," Hari spoke aloud. The room began to slow down, and once it stopped Hari pushed open the door that was directly in front of her.

She walked into a large, well-lit room that had several desks lined up in rows. This was the room where the interns and the junior staff members were housed. Several interdepartmental memos flew overhead in varying colors, and in the beams on the ceiling were a few owls, waiting to be dispatched with letters and documents bound for outside the Ministry. It looked no different to a Muggle office, except for the fact that all the workers were wearing robes, and memos took the form of flying paper cranes.

"Lady Potter! You're here!" an intern whose desk was nearest the door stood up suddenly, memos flying out of the way of his head.

Hari fixed a polite smile onto her face as she faced Philip Flak, one of the newest inters in the department. He was young, freshly graduated of out Hogwarts, and eager to prove himself. He was also an avid fan. "Hello, Mr. Flak. You're doing well, I hope?"

Phil could not bob his head faster. "Yes of course, Lady Potter. So kind of you to ask—eh, but is there anything you need? A cup of tea? Just say the word and I'll go get it for you! Not that I think you couldn't do it yourself, oh no, but—"

"It's alright, Flak. Breathe," she added the last part as a joke, but Flak obediently took a large gulp of air and immediately coughed. "Merlin, you don't need to be so worked up. I'm just another Unspeakable here in the office."

"But y-you'r not just an office worker!" Flak looked horrified at her words. "You're Lady Harielle Potter! I mean—you're the country's—"

"I'm flattered Flak, really, but I'm just here to work," Hari tapped the roll of parchment she had on one hand. She could see a group of interns watching them from a corner of her eye, so she patted Flak on the shoulder and said, "Well, lots of things to do today. I'll be seeing you around, yeah?"

"Of course Lady Potter!" Flak jumped out of the way as if scalded, and if she wasn't so eager to finish her report and get back to Ren as soon as she was able to, Hari might have stayed and chatted with Flak some more. He was a bright wizard, and quite resourceful—great characteristics of a good research assistant.

She wove her way through the desks, greeting people as she passed. Most of the other junior staff members were already used to her presence, but some interns (like Philip Flak) still went wide-eyed and slack-jawed at seeing her. Hari internally sighed.

It got worse as she boarded the lift to the Ministry Atrium, and went into the throng of wizards and witches.

"Merlin, did you see—!"

"Goodness, isn't that Potter…?"

"Maybe I can ask for an autograph?"

"Damn it, where's that picture…!"

"Lady Potter!"

"My Lady!"

"Hari Potter!"

Ronald Weasley, who had been waiting for Hari to turn up in her office, laughed at the sight of her face as she locked the door and slumped against the wall. "Being famous getting to you, mate?"

"Shut up," Hari gave him a look. "I don't see you being drowned in a sea of overzealous fans, so don't judge me."

"Woah, easy. Here, I figured you need this." Ron handed her a tall paper cup full of steaming, dark liquid.

"Coffee!" Hari greedily snatched the cup from Ron's hands and took a sip. Her shoulders loosened considerably, a content smile on her face. "Ah. That hit the spot. Did you go Muggle side?"

"Did you even have to ask? Mione always makes me go to that Muggle café every morning for her own cup of coffee. She says wizards don't know how to brew them properly." Ron shook his head. "I don't get it. We can just as easily brew some at home."

"You have no idea about the art of making proper coffee," Hari hummed into her cup, as she settled on her chair. "Plus the spell just makes the flavor go weird."

"You and Mione say the same thing. I swear, it's as if tea isn't good enough." Ron smiled ruefully as he settled on the chair opposite.

"Precisely." Hari raised her cup in the air in mock toast. "Tea isn't nearly enough. Want some?"

Ron made a face. "No, thank you. I'll stick with my tea."

Hari shrugged. "How are the kids?"

Ron's face brightened at the mention of his and Hermione's children. "Rose is doing great at Hogwarts—takes after her mother, really. Hugo's been doing well, too. Both of them are returning to the Burrow for the holidays, of course."

"Ah, right. Christmas is just a few months away."

"You're invited too, obviously," Ron added.

Hari grinned. "Wouldn't miss it for the world."

"How about Teddy? How is he?"

"Thriving," Hari was proud to say. "He's found a job in a Muggle magazine as a photographer, isn't that amazing? He's been at it for a year and a half—I think he may have found his calling."

"Is he staying in Potter Manor?"

"When he takes a vacation he does," Hari answered. "But he loves the flat I gave him for his birthday last year. It's just a short walk from his workplace, and the fireplace is connected to the Manor by Floo anyway."

The door to Hari's office opened quite suddenly, and Hermione walked in with several flying memos trailing after her. "Oh, am I late?"

"You're just in time Ministerin Weasley," Hari smiled.

The three friends settled around the low coffee table in the office, making small talk. It had become a weekly morning ritual for them to talk like this, having coffee (tea in Ron's case) during their break.

Hermione sighed into her cup. "Too much work and too few hours in a day to do them. I told Gregory he should have stalled the prime minister's decision. And now look—a fiasco I have to fix myself."

"Our poor, hardworking Ministerin for Magic," Hari patted her friends shoulder. "How bad is it?"

"I need to meet the Queen next week for afternoon tea."

Hari winced. "Yikes. That bad huh?"

Hermione groaned, leaning back into the chair.

"I could go with you?" Hari offered. "Her Majesty has always liked me. Maybe that will make your discussion flow a lot smoother."

"Would you please, Hari?" Hermione looked at her pleadingly.

Hari smiled, a glint in her eye. "What's in it for me?"

"Complete authority on access to the Death Chamber. Not even Gloome can get in there without your explicit approval," Hermione replied without batting an eyelash.

Hari raised an eyebrow. "Impressive. And?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "What do you have in mind?"

Hari lifted two fingers. "Two months' worth of coffee, to be delivered to my office in the morning, freshly brewed."

"Oh is that all? Ron dear, you heard Hari."

Ron sighed. "Yes, darling."

There was a timid knock on the door.

Hari frowned. "Who is it?"

"I-it's Ackley, Lady Potter!" came the muffled voice from outside.

"Do come in," Hari called out.

A timid woman in her early thirties opened the door, a quill tucked into her neat brown bun of hair. Diana Ackley was Hermione's personal assistant.

"H-Head Auror Weasley! I didn't know you were here!"

Ron raised a hand in a genial greeting. "Morning, Ackley. I see you're here for my wife?"

"Y-yes sir." She bowed into a curtsy. "Good morning, Lady Potter."

"Ah, come on, Diana. You can call me Hari, you know. I'm not your boss," Hari laughed.

Yes, Diana mentally told herself weakly, but you are the second highest officer in the Department of Mysteries, as well as the most iconic and powerful witch of this century, not to mention that you are the Head of several powerful, ancient, and noble Houses. How in Merlin's name can I call you casually by your name?

Hermione smiled wanly at Diana. "Di. Is it time for the meeting with France?"

"Yes, madam. The minister has just arrived and waiting in your office parlor." Diana bobbed her head.

"Well, I guess break time is over for me." Hermione stretched her arms. "Oh, right. Hari, you will be coming over at the Burrow for the holidays, aren't you?"

"'Course I am. Teddy will be there, too, I expect."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "If he learns that Victoire will be there, he might skip Christmas dinner this year."

"Ah, that wasn't a very clean break-up was it?"

"Rose was devastated," Ron added in. "But she got over it. Victoire already has, I think. She's dating Flint's boy, isn't she?"

"That's what I heard," Hari added her two cents. "Good luck with the meeting, Mione. I'll see you next week then?"

"Yes—and don't forget! Afternoon tea with the Queen," Hermione said as she walked out.

"Well. About time I got back to my own job," Ron stood up. "I'll probably drop by the training hall, just to see how our new recruits are doing."

Hari grinned. "You just want an excuse to get away from paperwork."

"Hey, that's an incidental perk, you know?" Ron watched Hari as she waved her hand and the cups of tea and coffee vanished from the table. She made it look effortless, but many wizards and witches actually had difficulty performing wandless magic. "Are you sure you don't want to transfer to the Auror Office? We could use your power and influence there, mate, not going to lie."

Hari laughed. "I think my research is enough for me, thanks. Besides, you know I can't be too much in the spotlight."

Ron nodded. "You've told us. Is that why you decided to be an Unspeakable?"

"Mostly, it's because of the opportunity of being able to study Death," Hari admitted. "But yes, also because it keeps prying eyes and ears away."

"Ah, right. So how is your research going?"

Hari gestured to the roll of parchment on her desk. "Well enough. The Veil works exactly like he said it would." She lowered her voice, although she had enough privacy wards and anti-spying enchantments on her office to make a goblin jealous. "It's a gate, and it works only for me."

"You mean, as…?"

Hari nodded. "Exactly."

Ron whistled. "So you have been coming and going into this alternate dimension? What's it like?"

Hari grinned. "I'll tell you all about it next time. You know how tetchy Mione gets when she gets left out of conversations like this." She gave Ron a hug. "See you in another week, Ron."

Ron returned the hug just as warmly. "You too, Hari. And take care out there. I know you can handle yourself, and you have a giant snake—"

"Basilisk."

"—yeah, same thing. But be careful! Constant vigilance and all that. You know with your weird luck—"

"Don't even start with that," Hari laughed. "Or you might jinx me!"

Ron grinned. "You never know with you, Hari."#

A/N: As always, please leave a review after reading.