Disclaimer: Characters and places in this story belong to J.K. Rowling. I am in no way profiting from this in any sort of monetary way.
The rest of the wake went off without much of a hitch. Mrs. Weasley was muttering for days about Pen's little "outburst," and many suspected Pen might be receiving a howler sometime in the near future. Everything was surprisingly normal, considering that two of them were dead, and an 11-year reign of terror had ended. It seems callous to outsiders for everything to continue as usual in a situation like that, but when one has suffered through the deaths of friends for years, one becomes a bit complacent about proper grieving periods. It wasn't as if they all just didn't care, more like the rigid structure of things being as usual helped them to cope with the loss. Harry and Hermione went off to see if they could find Sirius and Lupin. While Sirius had been cleared of charges by a very hesitant Fudge years ago, both men had thought it best to keep out of the limelight during Voldemort's reign of terror. Ron was nowhere to be found. Fred and George had just invented a little item tentatively named "smoking soda" and a great lot of people thought that with Percy and Neville gone, Ron might be next up as guinea pig. Others thought that Ron's disappearance might have something to do with a French girl, who was rumored to be part Veela or an Irishman reputed to be a partial Leprechaun. After all, when one remains a bachelor well into their mid-twenties, one does get a bit of bad press.
Ginny's first day back at work was littered with people asking inane questions like "how are you doing," while clicking their tongue in what they hoped seemed a sympathetic tone. There were sympathy cards tacked to her office door, and a great lot of people who merely looked away as she walked down the corridors. She had had quite enough of it, and she hadn't gotten a thing done other than telling crowds of well-wishers that she was doing fine, and that no, she didn't need a tissue or any sort of baked goods. When a knock sounded at her door, she sighed audibly and opened it with a simple charm. She didn't bother looking at the person in the doorframe, merely glanced at the clocks and stared at the memo from the Wimbourne Wasps that sat in front of her.
"Listen," she said to whoever the hell it was that had interrupted her work. "I'm tired, and I need to get my work done. There are loads of things to do here, and that's why I refer to this building as 'work.' If I had wanted to eat a great load of poorly cooked jam on overly yeasted banana bread and cry about 'poor heroic Percy," or 'poor dead Neville' I would have done precisely that at my flat or with my family. I came to work to work, not chatter about how all of you 'wish you could do something,' or 'know what I'm going through.' If that damnable git Percy hadn't died maybe he would have taught me the unforgivable curses that none of us were supposed to be capable of performing, and I could put an end to my misery. I sincerely doubt that the minister..."
She broke off as she finally looked up to see Dumbledore himself looking down at her. He crouched an eyebrow and gave a half smile.
"You sincerely doubt that I would approve of such nonsense, was that what you were going to tell me Miss Weasley?"
"Headmaster," Ginny said, automatically calling him by the title she'd always known him under. Her tone was apologetic. "I mean Minister. I most assuredly did not mean that you were unwelcome..."
"It's quite alright child. I'll be Minister only a short while longer. And I didn't come to give you my condolences. You're needed in my office."
"Right, of course," Ginny nodded and stood up quickly, placing the memo she'd been looking over back into her inbox. "Will we be apparating or do you feel like taking the stairs, Minister?"
"Let's take the stairs. It'll give those old fools upstairs some time to sweat a bit." He waited as Ginny locked her office door and checked to make sure the sign on the window read "out." While the sign was enchanted to know whether Ginny was at the office or not, it had difficulty differentiating between her being out of the building and out of her office, so she double-checked it regularly.
"Miss Weasley, before we leave, I have a rather serious question to ask you."
"Yes, Minister?" she replied. She hoped this wasn't about the frightful row that the Cannons and the Wasps were having. She'd been hoping to put off dealing with that until at least February.
"Were you referring to my jam?"
When they arrived at the Minister's office, Ginny was quite surprised to find that the rather large office was packed with people. When Dumbledore entered the room a hush fell over the crowd, and Ginny began to wonder what all this had to do with her. A nondescript and rather annoying man who she recalled as Percy's assistant was the first to speak.
"Honestly Dumbledore, Mr. Weasley would never approve of this kind of thing. I think it's absolutely terrible that this..." He looked pointedly at Ginny before continuing. "This girl should be appointed when it's most obvious that the lamp truly meant him, but was confused by the circumstances."
The crowd began to holler again, and Ginny looked around in confusion. All this ambiguity was like having an out of body experience, or what she imagined an out of body experience would be like. She knew that most of the people up here seemed to agree with... Nickel? Was that what his name was? Anyway, they all seemed to be terribly upset about her appointment to.... well to whatever it was. As far as she knew the only job open was Percy's and that would be sort of a lateral move... wouldn't it? Perhaps she'd been given a position on the board of trustees for Hogwarts, after all, Lucius had died... But generally those positions were dynastical, handed down ideally to the oldest son, and that would be Draco. Perhaps something had happened to Draco. No one had seen hide nor hair of him in quite awhile. He was probably lounging about at Malfoy Mansion, living it up with Pansy. It was quite a contrast to her shabby little flat in the Alley. With a life like Draco's she'd never be lonely; friends and beautiful people and loads of money would surround her. I've never been envious of him before, why should I start now? She asked herself. She hadn't really needed to ask herself that. She'd known the answer in her heart as well as her head. His father killed Neville.
She remembered when Neville had asked her to the Yule ball her third year. People in her year had made fun of her, because she was going with "Neville, of all people." She'd gotten to the point where she'd been about to tell him to sod off, that she didn't want to go with the worst wizard ever created. But every time she'd seen his round little face, his smile so great at the sight of her that his cheeks must have ached at night, she'd realized she couldn't break his heart. So she'd convinced herself that she'd try to find good things about him, some sort of redeeming quality. She'd found it ten-fold, in his loyalty, his complete and total faith in her. After you gave him half a chance, his magic wasn't that bad either. Once he'd enchanted the window boxes in her flat because she couldn't keep a plant alive if her life depended on it. Sure, it had taken weeks to trim them down so she could see out the windows, but it had been undoubtedly sweet of him. He'd just needed someone to believe in him. She'd always known that Neville would have died for her. But he hadn't. He'd died because of Malfoy's father and some stupid piece of information...
She was just recalling that. What exactly was all that about? No one else seemed to have cared about it, with their grieving of Percy and celebrating Voldemort's death and all. What could Neville possibly know that would be more important to Voldemort than killing Harry?
Just as she was pondering this, she was interrupted. Dumbledore was looking at her like he expected an answer of some sort. Had he asked a question? Ginny hadn't even realized she'd been addressed.
"Could you possibly repeat that Minister?" She asked sheepishly, wincing a bit.
Nickleby let out a sigh of exasperation. "The bloody infant doesn't even know what we're talking about!"
"She's your senior in both rank and years, and it would do you well not to be fooled by exterior appearances. I know for a fact that one of our most experienced aurors masqueraded for an ottoman for a good week, eventually catching one of the Death Eaters of the Inner Circle..."
Ginny smiled slightly as she remembered Hermione complaining about backaches for a great deal of time after that particular excursion. She'd whined to anyone she could get to listen that Harry wasn't a bit sorry about her pain, telling her that "anything that will keep you in bed for a week is fine by me."
"And another time, the sorting hat folded itself up like one of those Japanese paper birds, right before the start of term, and I found it just in the nick of time..."
"Dumbledore," replied Nickleby in a rather acid tone. "Do get on with it if you please."
"Quite right, lad," Dumbledore replied, straightening his robes. "What I was asking Miss Weasley, is if you think you can carry out the duties that a job like this would entail? Are you ready, mind, soul, body and wand to take on the position of Minister of Magic?"
Ginny promptly fell off her chair.
"Surely you can't let her be the Minister," Nickleby wheedled. "Perhaps we can consult the lamp again, after making sure it is aware of Mr. Weasley's unfortunate passing. I assure you that if it reads Weasley after it has been properly informed. I will abide by its decision." He looked at Dumbledore expectantly.
"Have you no sense whatsoever Nickleby? It seems that every time a decision is to be made by a magical object, something unexpected happens. And when that something happens, you all ask me to make it better by asking the enchanted object again." Dumbledore was beginning to show signs of agitation. "Well this isn't a 'boo-boo' and I can't make it better by running my wand over the top of anything and saying 'Abra Cadabra!' I can't understand how any of you passed a single N.E.W.T without realizing that in times like this, the object goes dormant until it is needed again." His voice was at full roar. "And if you can't abide by that then why not make the damnable decision yourselves? All of bloody muggle Britain is run smoothly and efficiently by Parliament, has been for years! If you want debate about something GO TO THEM!"
With that he flung his wand down upon his desk, and a rubber chicken popped out. Everyone stared, startled by Dumbledore's uncharacteristic outburst, and waiting for heads to roll when he found out who had dared replace his wand with a trick one.
Dumbledore smiled. "It appears that I have grabbed the wrong wand again. Ginny, be a dear and hand me mine, I suspect you shall find it in the cherry cabinet on your right," he motioned with the rubber chicken. "The rest of you can leave. If I hear another word against the new Minister's appointment I shall make sure that each and every one of you gets a care package from those ingenious Weasley boys before the dare is through.
People filtered out into the hall, most of them silent, with rather upset expressions on their faces. A few of them however, gave her rather encouraging smiles, and Ginny was grateful for their presence in the swarm of dissidents. Ginny walked to the cabinet Dumbledore had indicated, and opened it to find a treasure trove of pranks.
"Do you have stock in the three W's?" She asked jokingly.
"Yes," Dumbledore replied matter-of-factly. At Ginny's surprised look he further explained. "Pardon my French, my dear, but your brothers are bloody brilliant, and it only makes sense. But my little collection is for much more practical purposes: for some reason, no one ever suspects me of anything. I once slipped Sybil..." He noticed Ginny's confused expression at his reference. "Er... Professor Trewlawney a canary cream at dinner. Dear old Minnie twitched her nose only once, but I knew she longed to transform and chase her about the table. It would have given her the fright of her life." He smiled wistfully, and he wiped a nonexistent something out of his eye. "How is the old girl?"
"Fine. I'm glad to have her," Ginny responded. "Especially now."
"Yes, I hoped she'd be able to help." Dumbledore took the wand Ginny offered him and conjured a cup of cocoa. "I'd ask you to stay, but by the way you drifted away during that little brouhaha, I suspect you have something on your mind. I'll let you get back to it in a moment."
Ginny murmured her appreciation.
"I'll take care of sending out the press releases and everything. We won't make the change over for a few weeks, so I suggest you take a break until then. You'll have enough to deal with when you take over."
"But I've only just returned," Ginny stammered. "I've still got that business with the Cannon's and the Wasp's to deal with, and I'll have to get my papers in order for the new head!"
"My dear, the Cannons and Wasps can wait. You'll need a clear head to take over this office. You'll be the youngest Minister ever, Miss Weasley, and the first woman. There will be a great deal more of what you saw in this office earlier, and I want you rested and with your mind completely on the task."
Ginny could tell that Dumbledore wasn't going to back down on this issue. She nodded her head. Dumbledore shook her hand, then sat down to drink his cocoa. She turned when he began to speak again.
"Another thing, Miss Weasley. This business that's worrying you. Don't be too afraid to go directly to the source. There wasn't any love lost between him and his father, and he'll be more than interested in what you have to say."
Ginny nodded again as she left. How did he know I was going to go to Draco?
The rest of the wake went off without much of a hitch. Mrs. Weasley was muttering for days about Pen's little "outburst," and many suspected Pen might be receiving a howler sometime in the near future. Everything was surprisingly normal, considering that two of them were dead, and an 11-year reign of terror had ended. It seems callous to outsiders for everything to continue as usual in a situation like that, but when one has suffered through the deaths of friends for years, one becomes a bit complacent about proper grieving periods. It wasn't as if they all just didn't care, more like the rigid structure of things being as usual helped them to cope with the loss. Harry and Hermione went off to see if they could find Sirius and Lupin. While Sirius had been cleared of charges by a very hesitant Fudge years ago, both men had thought it best to keep out of the limelight during Voldemort's reign of terror. Ron was nowhere to be found. Fred and George had just invented a little item tentatively named "smoking soda" and a great lot of people thought that with Percy and Neville gone, Ron might be next up as guinea pig. Others thought that Ron's disappearance might have something to do with a French girl, who was rumored to be part Veela or an Irishman reputed to be a partial Leprechaun. After all, when one remains a bachelor well into their mid-twenties, one does get a bit of bad press.
Ginny's first day back at work was littered with people asking inane questions like "how are you doing," while clicking their tongue in what they hoped seemed a sympathetic tone. There were sympathy cards tacked to her office door, and a great lot of people who merely looked away as she walked down the corridors. She had had quite enough of it, and she hadn't gotten a thing done other than telling crowds of well-wishers that she was doing fine, and that no, she didn't need a tissue or any sort of baked goods. When a knock sounded at her door, she sighed audibly and opened it with a simple charm. She didn't bother looking at the person in the doorframe, merely glanced at the clocks and stared at the memo from the Wimbourne Wasps that sat in front of her.
"Listen," she said to whoever the hell it was that had interrupted her work. "I'm tired, and I need to get my work done. There are loads of things to do here, and that's why I refer to this building as 'work.' If I had wanted to eat a great load of poorly cooked jam on overly yeasted banana bread and cry about 'poor heroic Percy," or 'poor dead Neville' I would have done precisely that at my flat or with my family. I came to work to work, not chatter about how all of you 'wish you could do something,' or 'know what I'm going through.' If that damnable git Percy hadn't died maybe he would have taught me the unforgivable curses that none of us were supposed to be capable of performing, and I could put an end to my misery. I sincerely doubt that the minister..."
She broke off as she finally looked up to see Dumbledore himself looking down at her. He crouched an eyebrow and gave a half smile.
"You sincerely doubt that I would approve of such nonsense, was that what you were going to tell me Miss Weasley?"
"Headmaster," Ginny said, automatically calling him by the title she'd always known him under. Her tone was apologetic. "I mean Minister. I most assuredly did not mean that you were unwelcome..."
"It's quite alright child. I'll be Minister only a short while longer. And I didn't come to give you my condolences. You're needed in my office."
"Right, of course," Ginny nodded and stood up quickly, placing the memo she'd been looking over back into her inbox. "Will we be apparating or do you feel like taking the stairs, Minister?"
"Let's take the stairs. It'll give those old fools upstairs some time to sweat a bit." He waited as Ginny locked her office door and checked to make sure the sign on the window read "out." While the sign was enchanted to know whether Ginny was at the office or not, it had difficulty differentiating between her being out of the building and out of her office, so she double-checked it regularly.
"Miss Weasley, before we leave, I have a rather serious question to ask you."
"Yes, Minister?" she replied. She hoped this wasn't about the frightful row that the Cannons and the Wasps were having. She'd been hoping to put off dealing with that until at least February.
"Were you referring to my jam?"
When they arrived at the Minister's office, Ginny was quite surprised to find that the rather large office was packed with people. When Dumbledore entered the room a hush fell over the crowd, and Ginny began to wonder what all this had to do with her. A nondescript and rather annoying man who she recalled as Percy's assistant was the first to speak.
"Honestly Dumbledore, Mr. Weasley would never approve of this kind of thing. I think it's absolutely terrible that this..." He looked pointedly at Ginny before continuing. "This girl should be appointed when it's most obvious that the lamp truly meant him, but was confused by the circumstances."
The crowd began to holler again, and Ginny looked around in confusion. All this ambiguity was like having an out of body experience, or what she imagined an out of body experience would be like. She knew that most of the people up here seemed to agree with... Nickel? Was that what his name was? Anyway, they all seemed to be terribly upset about her appointment to.... well to whatever it was. As far as she knew the only job open was Percy's and that would be sort of a lateral move... wouldn't it? Perhaps she'd been given a position on the board of trustees for Hogwarts, after all, Lucius had died... But generally those positions were dynastical, handed down ideally to the oldest son, and that would be Draco. Perhaps something had happened to Draco. No one had seen hide nor hair of him in quite awhile. He was probably lounging about at Malfoy Mansion, living it up with Pansy. It was quite a contrast to her shabby little flat in the Alley. With a life like Draco's she'd never be lonely; friends and beautiful people and loads of money would surround her. I've never been envious of him before, why should I start now? She asked herself. She hadn't really needed to ask herself that. She'd known the answer in her heart as well as her head. His father killed Neville.
She remembered when Neville had asked her to the Yule ball her third year. People in her year had made fun of her, because she was going with "Neville, of all people." She'd gotten to the point where she'd been about to tell him to sod off, that she didn't want to go with the worst wizard ever created. But every time she'd seen his round little face, his smile so great at the sight of her that his cheeks must have ached at night, she'd realized she couldn't break his heart. So she'd convinced herself that she'd try to find good things about him, some sort of redeeming quality. She'd found it ten-fold, in his loyalty, his complete and total faith in her. After you gave him half a chance, his magic wasn't that bad either. Once he'd enchanted the window boxes in her flat because she couldn't keep a plant alive if her life depended on it. Sure, it had taken weeks to trim them down so she could see out the windows, but it had been undoubtedly sweet of him. He'd just needed someone to believe in him. She'd always known that Neville would have died for her. But he hadn't. He'd died because of Malfoy's father and some stupid piece of information...
She was just recalling that. What exactly was all that about? No one else seemed to have cared about it, with their grieving of Percy and celebrating Voldemort's death and all. What could Neville possibly know that would be more important to Voldemort than killing Harry?
Just as she was pondering this, she was interrupted. Dumbledore was looking at her like he expected an answer of some sort. Had he asked a question? Ginny hadn't even realized she'd been addressed.
"Could you possibly repeat that Minister?" She asked sheepishly, wincing a bit.
Nickleby let out a sigh of exasperation. "The bloody infant doesn't even know what we're talking about!"
"She's your senior in both rank and years, and it would do you well not to be fooled by exterior appearances. I know for a fact that one of our most experienced aurors masqueraded for an ottoman for a good week, eventually catching one of the Death Eaters of the Inner Circle..."
Ginny smiled slightly as she remembered Hermione complaining about backaches for a great deal of time after that particular excursion. She'd whined to anyone she could get to listen that Harry wasn't a bit sorry about her pain, telling her that "anything that will keep you in bed for a week is fine by me."
"And another time, the sorting hat folded itself up like one of those Japanese paper birds, right before the start of term, and I found it just in the nick of time..."
"Dumbledore," replied Nickleby in a rather acid tone. "Do get on with it if you please."
"Quite right, lad," Dumbledore replied, straightening his robes. "What I was asking Miss Weasley, is if you think you can carry out the duties that a job like this would entail? Are you ready, mind, soul, body and wand to take on the position of Minister of Magic?"
Ginny promptly fell off her chair.
"Surely you can't let her be the Minister," Nickleby wheedled. "Perhaps we can consult the lamp again, after making sure it is aware of Mr. Weasley's unfortunate passing. I assure you that if it reads Weasley after it has been properly informed. I will abide by its decision." He looked at Dumbledore expectantly.
"Have you no sense whatsoever Nickleby? It seems that every time a decision is to be made by a magical object, something unexpected happens. And when that something happens, you all ask me to make it better by asking the enchanted object again." Dumbledore was beginning to show signs of agitation. "Well this isn't a 'boo-boo' and I can't make it better by running my wand over the top of anything and saying 'Abra Cadabra!' I can't understand how any of you passed a single N.E.W.T without realizing that in times like this, the object goes dormant until it is needed again." His voice was at full roar. "And if you can't abide by that then why not make the damnable decision yourselves? All of bloody muggle Britain is run smoothly and efficiently by Parliament, has been for years! If you want debate about something GO TO THEM!"
With that he flung his wand down upon his desk, and a rubber chicken popped out. Everyone stared, startled by Dumbledore's uncharacteristic outburst, and waiting for heads to roll when he found out who had dared replace his wand with a trick one.
Dumbledore smiled. "It appears that I have grabbed the wrong wand again. Ginny, be a dear and hand me mine, I suspect you shall find it in the cherry cabinet on your right," he motioned with the rubber chicken. "The rest of you can leave. If I hear another word against the new Minister's appointment I shall make sure that each and every one of you gets a care package from those ingenious Weasley boys before the dare is through.
People filtered out into the hall, most of them silent, with rather upset expressions on their faces. A few of them however, gave her rather encouraging smiles, and Ginny was grateful for their presence in the swarm of dissidents. Ginny walked to the cabinet Dumbledore had indicated, and opened it to find a treasure trove of pranks.
"Do you have stock in the three W's?" She asked jokingly.
"Yes," Dumbledore replied matter-of-factly. At Ginny's surprised look he further explained. "Pardon my French, my dear, but your brothers are bloody brilliant, and it only makes sense. But my little collection is for much more practical purposes: for some reason, no one ever suspects me of anything. I once slipped Sybil..." He noticed Ginny's confused expression at his reference. "Er... Professor Trewlawney a canary cream at dinner. Dear old Minnie twitched her nose only once, but I knew she longed to transform and chase her about the table. It would have given her the fright of her life." He smiled wistfully, and he wiped a nonexistent something out of his eye. "How is the old girl?"
"Fine. I'm glad to have her," Ginny responded. "Especially now."
"Yes, I hoped she'd be able to help." Dumbledore took the wand Ginny offered him and conjured a cup of cocoa. "I'd ask you to stay, but by the way you drifted away during that little brouhaha, I suspect you have something on your mind. I'll let you get back to it in a moment."
Ginny murmured her appreciation.
"I'll take care of sending out the press releases and everything. We won't make the change over for a few weeks, so I suggest you take a break until then. You'll have enough to deal with when you take over."
"But I've only just returned," Ginny stammered. "I've still got that business with the Cannon's and the Wasp's to deal with, and I'll have to get my papers in order for the new head!"
"My dear, the Cannons and Wasps can wait. You'll need a clear head to take over this office. You'll be the youngest Minister ever, Miss Weasley, and the first woman. There will be a great deal more of what you saw in this office earlier, and I want you rested and with your mind completely on the task."
Ginny could tell that Dumbledore wasn't going to back down on this issue. She nodded her head. Dumbledore shook her hand, then sat down to drink his cocoa. She turned when he began to speak again.
"Another thing, Miss Weasley. This business that's worrying you. Don't be too afraid to go directly to the source. There wasn't any love lost between him and his father, and he'll be more than interested in what you have to say."
Ginny nodded again as she left. How did he know I was going to go to Draco?