The canonical characters from the "Harry Potter" books and movies belong to Joanne K. Rowling, as does the Wizarding World and all associated concepts. Ms. Rowling is utterly unaware that I or my stories exist, and is probably happier for it. This story is written to serve as nothing more than an outlet for one of my hobbies. I'm doing it because I felt like it and am not planning to realize any sort of monetary award for it.

The plot for "Harry Potter & The Search For Peace" is mine.

"Bloody incompetents," Ginny mumbled as she and Hermione read Ron's letter. It was past midnight but neither of them was feeling particularly sleepy. They were sitting in an empty Gryffindor common room and were going through the final drafts of Hermione's book, when Pig had flown in with Ron's letter. Ron had written to them earlier to inform them that Harry had woken up. A second letter from him in the same day had terrified them but all was good. Ron had just written to inform about the happenings of the day, about how Harry had ended up unconscious.

"Harry is not going to enjoy his four days' rest," Hermione spoke quietly. Ginny knew she was right. Harry hated resting but he was not going to have a choice. He would be fighting a lost battle. There was no way Molly Weasley would let him win that argument. She told Hermione that, earning a chuckle in return.

"What do you think about the book?" Hermione asked her, drawing her attention back to their original conversation.
"It's," Ginny paused to search for a right word, "painful. How do I explain? It makes me want to cry. It takes me back to that time, back to the horrors of the war."
"That's a good thing or bad?"
"It's a good thing. This book doesn't show Harry as a hero. He is a child, a young man who experienced too much of pain and still did what's right. And it's not just about Harry. It's about everyone."

Hermione smiled slightly. There was time she would have loved the praise and appreciation. But now, all that didn't matter. She had witnessed such horrors, lived through so many of them that such things felt meaningless. "Will we ever be able to smile freely again?" she whispered to Ginny. There was no reply though she had been heard. She knew that Ginny understood. She looked at the younger girl. Her eyes were closed, and a lone tear was finding its way down her cheek. Such horrors! Will they ever be able to smile freely again?

Harry slept badly at the night. His dreams were filled with all the horrors of the war he had been trying to forget. So, when he walked down for breakfast that morning, he was not in the best of his mood. Nevertheless, when he looked at the delicacies in front of him, his mood uplifted itself. Mickey and Mrs Weasley had cooked almost everything he loved. "This looks delicious," Harry told them as he helped himself a slice of treacle tart.

"Mom's going to stay with you, Harry," Ron told him as he loaded his plate with a little of everything. "I am going to work. Robards will take me to the meeting with Kingsley. I was the eyewitness."
Harry nodded his head, "Just tell them we will be the one's making return portkeys next time. I am not going to let those idiots do anything of this sort again."
"They should be removed from their jobs. It was very irresponsible of them," Mrs Weasley said, her voice filled with anger.
Harry and Ron nodded. Harry also told Ron to tell everyone to start working harder on their patronuses. "You and I have both seen what it is going to be like, dealing with Dementors. And since the Ministry is not using them, the other side is going to do that."
"Yeah. I was also thinking we need to organize the trainees," Ron said, taking a bite of his sandwich. "We need someone to take up on the research side. You and I are not suited for that. And if Robards wants us to take over the department, we need to reorganize it."

"He wants you to do that?" Mrs Weasley asked enthusiastically. Harry grinned as Ron facepalmed.
"You didn't hear that, Mum. And you will not say a word." She nodded but looked happy, nevertheless. She was proud of her kids, all of them. She had every reason to be. She heard Harry tell Ron to talk to the Head Auror about the reorganization. But all that didn't matter to her. She just enjoyed the sight of them, eating and talking, safer than they had been a few months back.

"How is Potter?" Robards asked Ron when the latter entered his cabin.
"Alive. He had a bad night. But he should be fine soon."

The Head Auror nodded and gestured Ron to take a seat. "I want you to keep your anger in check during the meeting. Don't hex anyone." Ron chuckled but agreed. He was not going to hex anyone. He had saved Malfoy during the Battle of Hogwarts. If he could do that, he could do anything.

"I wanted to talk to you, sir," he told his senior. Robards gestured him to continue. So, Ron told him about the reorganizing plan. "It's not working this way right now. I know that Auror department has had this trainer-trainee pattern since long. Tonks talked about how much this benefitted her. But we don't have Mad Eye now. And you must have heard what Dawlish did when Susan and Ernie came back yesterday."

Anger flashed into Robards's eyes. Dawlish had humiliated the two of them enough to break them. Susan's eyes were full of tears and Ernie had looked no better. That had led to a shouting match between Dawlish and Robards, where the latter had reminded him of his own incompetency to deal with the Imperius curse. "I want every senior auror in this department to remember one thing," Robards had told everyone listening, "These trainees whom you take so lightly, have fought a war which was thrown at them because of our incompetent generation. We were the ones who failed to grab hold of the Death Eaters, to get them punished. The reason might have been a lack of evidence or corruption, but it was us who failed. They fought a war we were supposed to fight, and they bloody won it. And they did so without proper education. They have all the right to be in this department and work along with us. The sooner you all accept it, the better it will be."

Robards focused his eyes back to Weasley. To normal eye, Ronald Weasley seemed like a carefree guy, but this man was brilliant strategist. It was no wonder the hero of the Wizarding world trusted him. He had seen these two together. They reminded him of James Potter and Sirius Black. Those two were also a brilliant team. But Potter and Weasley were even better.

"There is no trust among the trainers and trainees. There is little trust between the senior aurors themselves. No one, senior or junior, wants to work with Dawlish. We must do something about it. You must do something about it."

Robards knew he was right. This war had been a big pain. His entire department was messed up. "What's your plan, Weasley?"
Ron smiled, "End this trainer-trainee system. Declare Harry as the head of the trainees. Seniors report to you, juniors to Harry and Harry reports directly to you. You want trainees to do something, you tell Harry, and he gets it done."
"That's a good idea. And I can start including Potter in all major and minor things. But where do you fit in this, Weasley?"
"With the other trainees," Ron raised his hand to stop Robards from interfering, "Look anyone with an ounce of logic knows that I am Harry's second. There is no need to make it official. If you want to, do it. I will stand with Harry and that is not going to change."
"You care a lot about him." It was not a question. It was a fact, one that Ron didn't try to deny.

"I want you and Potter to take a trip to France," Robards said changing the subject.
"Why? Dementors?"
Robards laughed humourlessly but shook his head, "Memory charms. The French have mastered it. We often exchange trainees like this. Theirs come to us for stealth training."
"When do we go?"
"In November if all goes well. Now I want you to go and inform the trainees what is going to happen. Let the rumour spread. I will make the official announcement after Potter is back."

Harry was sitting on his bed, his eyes closed trying to rebuild his mind protections which the dementors had destroyed. It was not an easy task but not as difficult as building it from the scratch. He could see, in his mindscape, the walls of Hogwarts were damaged at places. He focused on rebuilding them. Some memories were flying around. Harry focused on them and sorted them into their designated rooms.

"Harry dear, here is some hot chocolate for you," Harry opened his eyes to see Mrs Weasley standing at the door with a mug full of hot chocolate.
"You shouldn't have Mrs Weasley," he told her, rushing to take the mug.
"Oh nonsense. You heard what the Healer said. Now sit down and finish it."

Harry settled back into the bed and took a delightful sip. He watched as Mrs Weasley moved around the room, slightly rebuking him for all the mess he had created. "You boys are all the same. Why don't you tidy your rooms?" Harry grinned sheepishly while she sorted through his things – a stack of books, a stack for laundry, another for the wardrobe.

Molly Weasley opened Harry Potter's wardrobe and started arranging his clothes. "How do you people even make this mess?" She stacked all his clothes neatly. The casuals, the formals. That was when she saw them. All the sweaters she had knitted for him, stacked neatly.

"You still have them?" she asked him, rather tearfully. Harry looked at what she was holding in her hands. He lowered his face, slightly embarrassed, "Of course I do. They were the first piece of clothing someone gave me that fit me. The first ones that I remember at least." That pained Molly deeply. To think that his relatives never bothered to give him clothes that would fit him.

"Do you know there is charm which will ensure that they will fit you forever?" she asked Harry gently. Harry looked at her with hope. She placed the stack of sweaters on the bed and took her wand out, gesturing Harry to do the same. Harry watched her wand movement and learned the incantation. She watched the satisfactory smile on his face as he successfully performed the charm.

"It is not my fault that you have inducted incompetent aurors into your department," Amos Diggory told Robards. They were sitting in front of the Minister of Magic, discussing about the incident that happened a day before. Ron was standing beside Robards, his hands curled up into a fist. They had just finished viewing Susan's memory of the event in the pensive.

"Incompetent? Your people couldn't produce a patronus. Did you see what mine did? Weasley's patronus blinded everyone."
"Then he should have done that earlier. What was he waiting for?"
Robards rolled his eyes, but it was Kingsley who answered, "An emotional upheaval. His teammates were down, his best mate was on the verge of unconsciousness. That's how emotions work, Amos."

Amos Diggory rolled his eyes. He reminded them that he had asked the aurors to help because his department couldn't handle the situation themselves. "Are you trying to tell me," Robards asked in a steely voice, "That there is no one in your department who can produce a patronus. Or that everyone in your department forgets to tell people the password for password protected Portkeys? Now, that is what sounds like incompetency."

"Don't you dare insult my department, Robards."
"Then you don't do it as well. Your incompetent people put my best auror on leave. I can't afford that, and neither can the wizarding world."
"Best auror. Harry Potter is a kid. And an incompetent one at that."
"That didn't stop the wizarding world from expecting him to deal with Voldemort." Amos Diggory shuddered at that. He was the only one in the room to do so. "I don't know which Harry Potter you are talking about, Amos. The one I know, the one I see daily throwing spells in the auror practice room is the one, half the wizarding population should be afraid of."

Diggory stood up with great speed. "Harry Potter got my son killed," he screamed. No one said a word for a minute. Then Ron spoke quietly, "Harry Potter saw the man his father had loved like a brother kill his friend. He saw the darkest wizard come back to power, had that wizard use all three unforgivable curses on him, fought against them and brought his friend's body back. All in one night, when he was just fourteen."
"He was not Cedric's friend."
"I don't think Cedric would agree with that."

Amos Diggory sat down with a thud. He had no words to argue with that. Robards patted his shoulder, "I will not insist on a legal action, Amos. But return Portkeys will be our responsibility now. And if this happens again, then you and me are going to have a big problem."