Harry Potter belongs to JKR
Warning: Sex
Chapter 38
"I'm sorry sir, I can't give you access to all the memories," Harry said, "there's information there that's too sensitive, some of it is personal as well."
"Too sensitive for the Head Auror," Dawlish replied, the slight lift of his chin showing his chagrin.
"Too sensitive for anyone," Harry replied.
Dawlish drummed his fingers on the desk and re-read through Harry's report, while Harry pressed his lips together.
"There's nothing in here about how she survived, or why she's de-aged, or missing the Dark Mark," Dawlish said as he flipped a page, "I expected Voldemort would have taught her something about how he survived and returned…"
Harry shook his head.
"There wasn't anything about that… she didn't seem to remember anything from before," Harry said.
"Yes, you mentioned that here," Dawlish said, "but still…"
"I'm sorry sir, it's the best I can do," Harry said.
Dawlish stared at him for a good five seconds, then he snapped the folder shut.
"Alright Potter, what matters most is that we have her in custody, and she wasn't working with any of the other Death Eaters," Dawlish said, "dismissed."
Harry stood up, saluted, and returned to his desk to try and sort through the schedule for the rest of the week. Ron popped his head up over the cubicle wall.
"And?" he asked.
"Seems to be okay," Harry replied.
Ron nodded and sat down as a brown-robed Ministry courier stopped at Harry's desk.
"Harry Potter?" the young dark-haired witch asked as she pulled out a large, yellow envelope from a satchel slung over one shoulder.
Harry nodded and signed for the package stamped with a Gringotts symbol.
"Actually, I just need another signature here," the courier said as she produced a second form. Harry signed again, and Ron stood up again as the courier went on her way. It wasn't until she rounded the corner that Harry realised she had probably wanted his autograph. He shook his head as he opened the package to find only a letter inside, a barely legible scrawl splayed across the centre of the single page. He stood up as he scanned the contents.
"It's from Dennis Creevey," Harry said, still reading the letter, "We've got to get over to Gringotts. Come on."
Harry led the way to the DMLE floo and in a few seconds, the both of them navigated the twisted path towards the goblin bank. Harry dipped around wizards and witches out enjoying the summer weather, and he nearly broke into a run but forced himself to stay at a walk, while Ron easily kept pace with his longer stride.
"Care to fill me in?" Ron asked.
"They're holding a wizard. Aurors are there to pick him up, but they're not letting him go," Harry replied. He spotted Dennis standing near the entrance wearing a Gringotts uniform, just a second before Dennis saw them approaching. He waved them on.
"You came," Dennis said.
"Of course I did," Harry replied, "what's going on?"
"It's serious, the goblins caught someone with a skeleton key, they say it can unlock almost anything, and they arrested him," Dennis whispered as he led them inside the bank and across the marble floors, "they called the Aurors to come pick him up, but then they changed their minds and now they're just refusing to bring him out."
"Ugluk the Bold," Harry thought.
They stopped at the end of the row of tellers.
"They're in that room, just over there," Dennis said as he nodded to Gragnaff's office. He stood there and fidgeted.
Harry nodded.
"We'll take it from here… you'd better get back to work," he said. Dennis nodded and vanished towards the vaults, while Harry and Ron walked straight up to the manager's door; Harry ignored the muted protest from one of the goblin tellers and knocked once before pushing through. Gragnaff, the manager, stood in front of his desk with his arms folded, two goblin guards stood in the corners behind him, flanking his desk. A pair of Aurors, Jenkins and Clark, stood opposite Gragnaff, about ten feet away. Harry noticed Clark already had his wand in hand, though it was held by his side.
"-risking an international incident," Jenkins said. Harry closed the door behind him.
"It appears we have more guests," Gragnaff said, "I recognize you, Harry Potter, though I did not summon you. Why are you here?"
"I heard there might be an issue," Harry said as he stepped forward, "I'm here to help in any way I can."
"You can start by telling your fellow Aurors to respect the laws of goblinkind," Gragnaff said.
"Physical punishment was never part of the agreement," Jenkins said as he made a slashing motion with one hand and pointed at the shorter goblin, "you're changing the rules."
Gragnaff unfolded his arms to clench his fists by his sides.
"Do not presume to tell me what we goblins can, or cannot do, on our own property, after catching a known thief in possession of illegal contraband," Gragnaff said, "if you wizards did not want him punished, you should have ensured he did not commit a crime."
"Okay, okay," Harry said as he stepped between the two before Jenkins or Clark could respond, "Gragnaff, a moment."
He motioned Jenkins and Clark to move closer to himself and Ron, and they leaned forward into a partial huddle.
"They're being completely unreasonable," Jenkins whispered, "They want to give him three strokes of the atax, that's a goblin torture whip that leaves permanent scars. The treaty is clear though-"
Harry nodded.
"I know. I have some experience with goblins," Harry said, "Let me talk to him alone, sometimes a change of scenery is all they need. Maybe we can get out of this without more fodder for the Prophet."
Jenkins eyed him warily.
"Are you sure?" the other lieutenant asked.
Harry nodded. The other three Aurors made for the door. Clark tapped him on the elbow in a sign of good luck, and Ron glanced over his shoulder at Harry, who thumbed his ear to let him know to listen in if he could. Ron nodded as he closed the door behind him.
Harry turned around to see Gragnaff once again with his arms folded.
"I wish we could meet under better circumstances," Harry said.
"You may dispense with the pleasantries," Gragnaff said. Harry nodded and stepped forward.
"Can we speak privately?" Harry asked as he glanced at the two goblin guards.
Gragnaff nodded and motioned for Harry to sit in a chair, and Harry drew his wand and cast a wordless mufflatio charm before sitting. Gragnaff remained standing so as to be at eye level with Harry.
"I heard you had agreed to release the captured wizard, and then changed your mind," Harry said, "Surely if you changed your mind once, you could change it again."
Gragnaff opened his mouth to speak but Harry kept going.
"I only want to do what's best for all of us," Harry said, "I understand some may feel there is a blood debt owed, but surely there must be a possibility of negotiation."
The goblin bank manager narrowed his eyes at Harry, perhaps re-evaluating him.
"Name your offer then, Harry Potter," Gragnaff said.
"What about a fine, instead of physical punishment?" Harry asked, "say, one hundred galleons?"
Gragnaff laughed, a low, guttural sound.
"Do not insult us," the goblin said, but the meaning behind it was clear, Gragnaff was haggling, which meant he could be convinced if the price were high enough.
"Five hundred, and a public apology?" Harry asked, but Gragnaff merely looked at him. Harry wasn't sure where he would come up with that much money, either the thief would have to agree to pay it or he'd have to work something out. He knew they didn't want another incident…
"What does Ugluk really want?" Harry thought, "aside from blood."
"A thousand then," Harry said, "but I need to see the wizard to ensure he agrees, and… and you can tell Ugluk the Bold that I give my word, that I will personally initiate and push for reforms to allow goblins to purchase wizarding property."
Gragnaff's eyes widened. Harry knew it was one of the goblins' main grievances, and it was something Harry wanted to rectify anyway, so he might as well try to get some good will out of it.
"Privately," Harry said, "no one is to know but us. If word were to get out before we are ready, our opponents would rally against it… and no more threats of physical punishment against any wizards, or the deal is off."
Gragnaff stared at Harry for a long moment.
"Very well, Harry Potter, but know that if you do not uphold your end of the bargain, there will be repercussions. Follow me," the bank manager said. Gragnaff led him towards the bank proper, and the three Aurors standing outside jumped as the door suddenly opened.
"Everything okay?" Ron asked.
"We're going to see the captured wizard," Harry said, "come on."
Gragnaff led them to the carts, and motioned to two Gringotts employees to man the vehicles. They piled into two of them, and then they were off on a short, twisting journey to one of the vaults. Two of the bank's security guards stood out front. They moved their pikes and stepped aside as Gragnaff approached, and the bank manager quickly produced a key from his purple waistcoat and turned it twice in the lock with a series of loud clicks. The massive door opened without a sound, and Harry followed the goblin inside; the smell of tobacco reached his nostrils. A torch, magical, apparently, as it produced no smoke, lay in a sconce against the wall, and against the opposite wall, manacles about his wrists and ankles, stood a short, unshaven wizard that Harry immediately recognised by his shabby brown overcoat.
"Mundungus Fletcher!" Harry thought as he made eye contact with the shady wizard.
"You!" Harry said.
"Potter, you've got to get me outta here, I didn't do nufin' wrong," Fletcher said.
"Silence, thief," Gragnaff said.
"I ain't no thief," Fletcher said, "cross me heart."
The manacles clinked as Fletcher moved one a few inches closer to his chest.
"Only a thief makes use of a skeleton key," Gragnaff said. He gestured to a small table beneath the torch, where a small white key lay next to a wand and a bowler hat. It took a second for Harry to realise the key was carved of bone.
"I'm a licensed locksmith, I am," Fletcher said, "perfectly legal."
"Not in Gringotts," Gragnaff said.
Harry realised he needed to cut off the conversation before it spiralled into a shouting match.
"Alright Fletcher, here's the deal, the punishment is three whips with the atax," Harry said, and he glanced to Gragnaff to ensure he got the pronunciation correct, "but you can pay a thousand galleons and apologise for bringing a banned item into Gringotts."
"A thousand!" Fletcher said.
"Take it or leave it," Harry said.
The short conman seemed to be making some calculations.
"Deal," Fletcher said, "Give me a week to get the money together."
"Agreed," Gragnaff said, "with the original punishment reinstated if you renege."
"Great," Fletcher said with a grin as he clapped his hands above his head, "get me out."
Gragnaff motioned to one of the guards, who unlocked the manacles. Mundungus Fletcher went straight to the table and picked up the skeleton key, but Gragnaff held up a hand.
"The key stays with Gringotts," Gragnaff said.
"If you wanted it, you should have bargained for it," Fletcher said, "too late now. I promise I won't bring it back."
Gragnaff bared his sharp teeth and growled, but apparently acknowledged that Fletcher had got one over on him, as he said nothing as the wily conman dropped the magical key into his coat pocket. The guards escorted them out the front door of the bank as tellers and wizards alike stared, while Gragnaff returned to his office. Mundungus Fletcher practically skipped down the stone steps of the bank and into Diagon Alley.
"Can't say thank you enough. Good day gentlemen," he said. He tipped his hat.
"Hang on," Harry said, "you owe me, big time."
"Owe you what?" Fletcher asked, "I pay my taxes, and you're a civil servant doing your job, Potter. Jolly good one, I might add, but you woulda come no matter who it was in there."
Harry shook his head. Somehow, he found it hard to believe that Fletcher paid taxes.
"Fletcher," Harry said, a warning in his voice.
"Alright, alright, what do ye need?" Fletcher asked.
"I don't know yet, but we'll talk soon," Harry said.
"Can't bloody wait," Fletcher replied as he ambled off towards Knockturn Alley.
"How in Merlin's name did you pull that off?" Jenkins asked.
"He's Harry bloody Potter, that's how," Clark said.
Harry shook his head. He appreciated Clark's enthusiasm and praise, but at the end of the day, there wasn't anything really special about him, except for an apparent talent at persuasiveness.
"I've worked with goblins a bit, they have a certain way of thinking," Harry said, "you just have to… speak their language, I guess."
"And offer to help them resolve one of their biggest grievances," Harry thought.
"Can't wait to read the incident report on this one," Ron said.
Harry groaned. He'd forgotten all about the all-important incident reports.
Harry watched as coffee filled his cup far too slowly. Every limb felt weighted down, and his eyes wanted to close all on their own. He and Ron had both had Azkaban patrol yesterday, and the day after was always the worst.
"Anything from Hermione?" Ron asked.
Harry shook his head.
"Still in Australia," Harry said.
"Thoughts on what to do with the you-know-what?" Ron asked.
The Aevum. Harry had been avoiding thinking about it, but they would probably have to do something, eventually. He glanced around to ensure they were alone.
"I don't know," he whispered, "I don't trust the Unspeakables."
The first sip of coffee hit his tongue and his eyes widened as the near burning liquid almost scalded him. Ron snorted and they started walking to their desks.
"We're going to have to start trusting someone at some point," he said, "any word on what's going to happen to you-know-who?"
"They're going to wait until she's fully healed and then have a trial," Harry replied, "it'll be a full Wizengamot trial for sure, so I'll have an invite... I'll let you know, I guess."
Ron nodded as Harry spotted the large official looking envelope on his desk. He pulled the string to open it and heavy parchment fell out, one with a Ministry seal embossed on the bottom.
"Shit, Ron," Harry said, and Ron stood up to see over the cubicle wall, "it's a warrant to search the sub-vault. Dated yesterday when we were both at Azkaban. Son of a bitch!"
He drew his wand and then remembered he couldn't apparate inside the Ministry anymore.
"Mother fucker," Harry muttered as he ran to the nearest floo.
"Hogsmeade!" he said, the first place that came to mind. No sooner had he exited the floo than he apparated directly to the sub-vault. The first thing he noticed was grey sky above, and trees lining what was now essentially a hole in the ground with him at the bottom. Ron appeared next to him with a loud crack a moment later. Harry looked around the now exposed sub-vault. No cabinets, no shelves, and definitely no Aevum.
"That sneaky bastard," Harry said as he put two-and-two together. Dawlish hadn't taken his word on the interview like he'd thought; he must have conducted one of his own.
"Merlin… what now?" Ron asked.
"Now? Now we go and yell at the Head Auror," Harry said. He turned on the spot and apparated home, then took the floo back to the Ministry. Ron appeared next to him in a burst of ash and green fire a second later.
"Maybe this isn't such a bad thing though mate," Ron said as they trotted across the Atrium, "it's in the hands of the officials, probably the Unspeakables… where else could we put it?"
Harry didn't have a response, but what happened to the Aevum wasn't the point, it was how it happened. Dawlish, someone he'd trusted as a boss and a mentor, had gone behind his back and stolen it. A small voice whispered to him that perhaps storming into the Head Auror's office in a blind raging fury might not be the best idea, but Harry violently shoved it to the side.
"Potter? He's not expecting-" Katherine the personal assistant said, but Harry stalked right past her desk and slammed the door open.
"What the fuck," Harry said as he entered the office.
"Close the door," Dawlish said, as if he'd fully expected the interruption, and Ron quietly shut it.
"How could you, after I told you it wasn't safe," Harry said.
"Have a seat, Lieutenant," Dawlish said, and the stern tone of his voice and expression demanded obedience. Harry sat down in front of Dawlish's desk but continued to fume. Dawlish glanced to Ron who hurriedly sat next to Harry.
"You tried to keep critical details from me of an interrogation of one of the most notorious Death Eaters, Lord Voldemort's second," Dawlish said, "did you somehow forget that as Head Auror, I can interview suspects as well?"
"You should have trusted me when I said there were things that needed to be kept secret," Harry said.
"An artefact that can bring people back from the dead?" Dawlish asked, "far, far too dangerous to be left unprotected."
"That doesn't give you the right to break into private property and steal it," Harry said.
"Actually, that's exactly what that paper in your hand allows me to do, when it's in the best interest of the public, and this definitely qualifies," Dawlish said.
"Who else knows, and what did you do with it?" Harry asked.
"Not that it's any of your business any longer, but myself and Grimm, and whomever she saw fit to inform now that it's where it belongs," Dawlish replied.
Harry shook his head.
"With the Unspeakables? It's too dangerous-" he said.
"Which is exactly why it belongs with them," Dawlish said, and he pointed a finger at Harry, "I'm done talking about this, Potter. I don't care if you need to take a day or two off to get over it, but you will get over it. Pretend it was stolen by someone who wasn't the DMLE and then console yourself with the fact that your boss did the right thing when you wouldn't. Dismissed."
Harry grit his teeth and thought about continuing to argue, but he knew that would only get him sacked. He stood up and left the office, and walked towards the lifts.
"Nothing about the Hallows… does he not know, or is he only not mentioning them?" Harry thought.
Harry realised the problem with confronting Dawlish about what he'd found out from Bellatrix… he couldn't directly ask him, or even hint there was more, or else Dawlish would use another dose of veritaserum and interview her again to find out whatever he didn't know. He heard Ron trotting behind him to catch up.
"Now what?" he asked quietly.
Harry responded by entering the lift and pressing the button for the Department of Mysteries. The elevator doors slid shut, chimed, and a chipper female voice announced their destination as the doors opened again. The entrance hall immediately outside the lift had changed since he last saw it. Now, instead of a deserted bare black-tiled hallway, a checkpoint counter manned by a Ministry employee barred their way. The door leading to Courtroom Ten lay to his left. Harry ignored it and walked straight up to the counter to look the thirty-something year old wizard in the eye.
"I want to…" Harry said.
"Do what?" Harry thought. His anger had dissipated somewhat in the lift. What would he even do if he found the Aevum in the Department, take it back?
"I'd like to speak with Anabelle Grimm," Harry said.
"About what?" the worker asked.
"She'll know about what," Harry replied.
The Ministry worker eyed him for a second then nodded, scribbled something on a piece of parchment. It quickly folded itself into a paper airplane and zoomed off deeper into the Department.
Harry folded his arms and waited. He caught some movement in the corridor, but his eyes seemed to slide right off the grey-clad figure. He forced himself to focus on the white-haired, slightly hunched figure of Unspeakable Anabelle Grimm.
"You can send them in, Frank," Grimm said.
Harry and Ron walked past the counter to meet the Unspeakable about halfway down the hallway towards the revolving entrance chamber.
"You'll understand if I forbid you from entering any deeper into the Department," Grimm said.
She stopped and stared at Harry for several long seconds.
"Well, you asked to see me. What is it?" she asked.
"What have you done with it?" Harry asked.
"You're going to have to be specific," Grimm replied with a smile.
"With the Aevum," Harry replied through gritted teeth.
"I'm sorry Mr. Potter, that information is classified, even for an Auror," she said, "far too dangerous for anyone outside of select members of the Unspeakables to be trusted with."
"You shouldn't have taken it," Harry said.
Grimm shrugged noncommittally.
"I did as requested by the Head Auror. If you'd like to know more, perhaps you could consider an alternative career path," Grimm said.
Harry blinked.
"She's still trying to get me to join the Unspeakables?" Harry thought.
Ron, who had been silent to this point, suddenly looked past Grimm and squinted.
"Crookshanks?" he said.
Anabelle Grimm glanced over her shoulder and Harry looked past her to see a flash of tawny fur as a large cat vanished the corner.
"You know that beast?" Grimm asked.
"Yeah. Unless I'm mistaken, I mean; that's Hermione's cat," Ron replied.
"Interesting," Grimm said, "we've been trying to get rid of it for months, but it keeps coming back. Perhaps it would be interested in returning to its original owner. Shall I send memo the next time we capture it?"
"Please, Hermione would be very happy to have him back," Ron said.
"Indeed," Grimm said with a thoughtful expression. She stared off into space for nearly half a minute, until Harry cleared his throat.
"Oh," Grimm said, "well, I must thank you for this interruption, it's not like I have an infinite number of days left in this world to complete my research."
She didn't soundthankful in the slightest, and held up a hand as Harry started to interrupt.
"There are protocols for dealing with dangerous magical devices, Mr. Potter," Grimm said, "we research the very nature of magic down here, and conduct experiments that could unravel reality itself."
She stared at him with her grey eyes, as if coming to a decision.
"And, so we might avoid another ill-conceived and catastrophic attempt to infiltrate the Department of Mysteries again, I will tell you this: What was brought back from your property appears to be nothing more than a lump of cold iron bent and twisted into an interesting shape. Whatever magic was in it is gone," Grimm said.
Harry's mouth dropped open slightly as images of the destruction wrought during the battle at the end of fifth year flashed across Harry's mind; the shattering of the prophecies and time turners must have been especially devastating to those who had dedicated their lives to studying those particular mysteries. He realised his mouth was still open, closed it, and nodded.
"If you manage to catch Crookshanks again, do let us know," Harry said.
Grimm nodded.
"Good day, Mr. Potter," she said, then she turned around and retreated deeper into the Department of Mysteries.
A few days later, Harry looked forward to his first coffee of the day as he blearily walked from the bank of floo fireplaces towards the Ministry Atrium. The sound of some kind of commotion from up ahead reached his ears, and he grudgingly pushed the thought of the hot beverage from his mind to focus on whatever was going on. As soon as he stepped around the corner, a gaggle of reporters and photographers rushed towards him and started shouting questions and snapping pictures.
"Mr. Potter, how did you capture Bellatrix Lestrange?"
"Is it true that Hermione Granger was injured in an attack? Is she safe? Why hasn't she been seen in days?"
"We all thought Lestrange was killed in the Battle of Hogwarts, was she leading the remaining Death Eaters?"
"Bloody hell," Harry thought. He raised his hands to speak.
"I'm unable to comment on ongoing investigations," Harry said, "to the best of my knowledge, Hermione is safe, and is attending to a personal matter in the muggle world."
Technically true. More questions started up.
"I'm sure the DMLE will be making a statement soon, please be patient," Harry said. Then he pushed his way through the crowd to the lifts.
Several Aurors stood milling about the entrance, including Matt Wilson and Liz.
"Is it true?" Matt asked. Harry didn't see any point in trying to keep it quiet anymore, and he nodded.
"Merlin's balls," he muttered, "when?"
"I…" Harry said. He looked around at the other Aurors gathered at the entrance.
"Look, Dawlish swore us to secrecy, I really can't say anything," Harry said, "team meeting in five."
He walked to his desk and dropped his satchel on it. He looked up to see Ron approaching with an extra cup of coffee.
"Well, we knew it was going to happen," Ron said as he passed the hot beverage to him.
Harry grimaced. It was going to be nothing but pandemonium from the press for the next few days, and he wasn't looking forward to it. At least he finally had a coffee.
"Team meeting," Harry said, "come on."
They entered the briefing room they'd used when they were investigating the casinos. Matt and Liz already sat inside, and Harry waited by the door for a moment until he remembered there were only four members of their team now. He shut and locked the door, activating the privacy charms.
"Matt, I'm so sorry, we weren't allowed to tell anyone," Liz said as soon as the lock clicked.
"You knew?" Matt asked.
Liz nodded with a guilty expression on her face. Matt turned to Ron, then absently waved his hand.
"Of course you knew," he said, "Looks like I'm the odd man out."
"I was there when we found her," Liz said, "but it's not so cut and dry."
"Yeah, there's more," Harry said, "though, we're still under orders not to say anything so…"
"Yeah, yeah, I get it," Matt said as he wiped a hand through his receding hairline, "well… this is good news right? Lestrange was one of ol' snake-face's best, should be able to get some good intel out of her… even though she was supposed to be dead already."
Harry was about to reply when a knock sounded at the door. He opened it to see Lieutenant Robinson.
"Potter, Minister Shacklebolt wants to see you in his office," Robinson said. Harry left Ron and Liz to fill Matt in on whatever details they could, and shut the door behind him.
A few minutes later, Kingley's receptionist waved him in, and Harry slipped into the opulent office of the Minister of Magic and closed the heavy door behind him. Harry didn't think he'd ever seen Kingsley so tired, even when he was conducting missions for the Order non-stop.
"Harry, good job on Bellatrix Lestrange," Kingsley said, "though I'm afraid I have some bad news."
"What's happened?" Harry asked.
"After Lestrange was captured, we conducted an internal investigation to find out how she was able to obtain Ministry certified identification papers," Kingsley said, "the results of the investigation are being finalised now, and it's not good. Seems there were several breakdowns; we're not sure yet exactly how, but it doesn't much matter."
"I don't understand," Harry said as he sat down, "having her in custody can only be a good thing."
"Welcome to politics," Kingsley said, "my administration has been pushing for changes as fast as we can, and some people have been hurt by that… you've seen the unemployment figures. And I know the Aurors aren't happy with the Azkaban situation, add to that the crime wave-"
"We're doing the best we can," Harry said as a bit of frustration bubbled up. Kingsley raised his hands to placate him.
"I know, but this looks like it may be the straw that broke the camel's back," he said, "I haven't forgotten I said I would handle the political and budgetary side of things, but that may not be possible."
"What do you mean?" Harry asked as a heavy sense of foreboding fell over him.
"I wanted to give you a head start, so you can start working on positioning yourself," Kingsley said, "word is a few individuals in the Wizengamot are almost certainly going to join together to have me ousted as Minister, followed by a run at it themselves."
"Who?" Harry asked.
"So far? Edmund Macnair and Angus Macmillian," Kingsley replied.
Harry squinted his eyes in confusion.
"But they're on opposite sides of almost every issue," Harry said.
"And they've both been around the quidditch pitch," Kingsley said, "they see an opportunity; the chances of either of them becoming Minister of Magic are higher if the office is vacant."
"But it could be the other," Harry said, "and that would be worse, wouldn't it?"
"They may yet cut a deal," Kingsley said, "one might support the other for Minister of Magic if the other promises a high cabinet post."
Harry forcibly turned his frown into a grimace.
"What's going to fall apart next?" he thought. Harry wondered if he would somehow be able to sway one or the other to put Britain on the best path to effective governance.
"Don't look so glum, it's not like I've been thrown out yet," Kingsley said with a smile, "at any rate, I thought you should know, so it's not a surprise, and so you could work the angles."
"Like I don't have enough on my plate as it is," Harry thought.
"What should I do?" Harry asked.
"That's up to you. I won't be able to help much until after the vote; getting removed from office isn't exactly part of my plan, so I'll be fighting to stay on," Kingsley said, "…but perhaps talk to Arthur."
Harry nodded. It made sense, Mr. Weasley was also on the Wizengamot and had actually attended most of the meetings, and understood both Macnair and Macmillian far better than Harry could hope to.
"One thing at a time," Kingsley said, "now, it's probably best if we limit our contact going forward, at least until the political situation stabilises. I can't speak for the rest of the old guard, but if you ever need advice or help, you can always come to me."
"Thank you sir, I appreciate it," Harry said.
He stood up and shook Kinglsey's hand, then left the office and returned to the DMLE to find Ron back at his desk.
"And?" Ron asked.
"Not good, I'll tell you later," Harry said. He glanced at the stack of parchment on his desk, then decided paperwork could wait.
"Come on," Harry said. The two Aurors left the Ministry for their assigned sector for the day. In between street patrols, investigating a stolen broom, and attempting to convince a well-meaning wizard that the foreign werewolves did not, in fact, change at the new moon instead of the full moon and therefore could not have been responsible for destroying his rabbits' enclosure fence, Harry filled Ron in on his meeting with Kingsley.
"Blimey, who d'you think will take over then, if he can't hang on?" Ron asked.
"Not sure, actually I was hoping to talk to your dad about it," Harry said.
Ron nodded.
"Good idea," Ron said, "you might be able to more or less pick, if you play your cards right."
"Yeah, I dunno," Harry said as he massaged his forehead, "somehow I feel like with everything going on, we're missing something big."
Ron contemplated silently, and Harry spent the rest of the day struggling to pin down why he felt like he'd neglected some important detail…
Waves crashed on either side of the small stone walkway leading to the guardhouse. Harry opened the door to find Jenkins replacing the sign-in parchment.
"Morning Potter," the other lieutenant said.
"Morning," Harry replied.
Jenkins handed the clipboard and quill to Harry, and just as he was about to sign his name, he paused. Tammy's name was on the schedule but crossed out, and his own written in instead. Perhaps it was proximity to the dementors of Azkaban, but the weight of her death suddenly hit him all over again, and Harry found it hard to breathe. He grit his teeth and signed his name where hers should have been, then set the schedule on the table face-down.
"She was supposed to be here, I'm standing where she should have been," Harry thought. He put on a brave face in front of Jenkins; if he broke down in front of him, people would talk.
"I'll take the first round," Harry said.
"No arguments here," Jenkins replied.
Harry carefully stepped along the walkway as the imposing metal prison loomed above him. Even before setting foot in the prison proper, tears stung his eyes and threatened to overflow. He knew in his mental state it could be dangerous to go up to the top, but pressed on as each step grew more difficult than the last. He made it to the first intersection before he leaned against the wall and squeezed his eyes to let them fall.
"What's wrong with you?" Harry thought, "you've lost people before, why should this time be any different?"
But it was different, perhaps because she was part of his team, his responsibility, or perhaps because he'd been confident she would pull through in the care of the healers of St. Mungo's, and then suddenly hadn't. Perhaps it had something to do with all the plates he'd been forced to simultaneously keep spinning, or the lack of sleep, or the auras of the dementors at the top floor, or a combination of everything hitting him all at once. Whatever the reason, Harry found himself rooted to the spot for a good ten minutes as he alternated wiping tears from his eyes and staring at his boots and the faintly glowing dark green metal of Azkaban prison. Finally, he took a shuddering breath and forced himself to once again put one foot in front of the other. The climb to the top was the worst, as every step put him closer to the terrible aura of the dementors which perpetually circled the top levels. He put Tammy out of his mind, just for a moment, and thought of his friends, and Ginny, and everything he kept moving forward for.
"Expecto patronum," he said, and his faithful stag coalesced to drive the gloom back.
Despite its comforting presence, he didn't feel the way he did before Tammy's death, and deep down, he expected he never would. No doubt everything he'd been through had changed him. Still, the walls stopped closing in and Harry completed his rounds to the top of the tower, then returned to the small guard house. Every trip up to the top over the course of the day grew more difficult, until by the end of his shift, he could barely convince himself to walk all the way to the top. Back in the guardhouse, he alternately wanted to curl into a ball and start crying, or throw the desk over and start smashing things, but he bottled it all up and acted like nothing was wrong. Jenkins had the last round, and by the end, Harry was barely able to function thanks to the splitting headache he'd developed. Mercifully, Clark and another Auror Harry didn't recognize relieved them, and Harry and Jenkins made their way along the narrow pathway to the portkey embedded in the rock face at the far end. Harry and Jenkins touched the ring at just about the same time, appearing through time and space back in the Ministry.
"Any plans tonight?" Harry asked as they entered the lift.
"Plans? Straight to bed, I feel like a herd of nundus are marching across my skull. You?" Jenkins replied.
"Going to see my girlfriend," Harry said.
Jenkins chuckled as the doors opened and they exited into the Atrium.
"Merlin, if I tried to do anything with the wife after an Azkaban shift, I'd end up divorced for sure," Jenkins said, "see you Monday."
"Right, see you," Harry said.
They went their separate ways and Harry floo'd straight to Grimmauld Place. He sighed and sat down on the couch. Kreacher appeared next to him with a pop.
"Master Harry has returned," the house elf said.
"Hi Kreacher," Harry said, "Just… some tea would be good."
Kreacher bowed and vanished with a pop. Harry felt like absolute shite, but he'd promised Ginny he'd contact her when he was done. It took him a full minute to pull his journal from the pouch, by which time Kreacher had arrived with tea and honey and already departed. Harry took a sip and opened the journal to see a note from Ginny: "Let me know when you're done."
"Done," Harry wrote.
A loud crack echoed around the room as Ginny apparated directly into Harry's living room. Harry blinked as he took her in. Her dark blue robes swayed slightly as they settled just above her sandaled feet. In one hand she held her wand, and in the other, an extra-large bar of Mr. Cheery-Go's dark chocolate, already unwrapped, which she held out to Harry with a small grin. Despite his despondency, Harry couldn't help but smile as he accepted the gift and took a bite.
"I love you," Harry said as the rich flavour melted in his mouth.
"I know," Ginny replied, "let me know when you're ready."
"Where are we going?" Harry asked.
"Side-along," Ginny replied, "it's a surprise."
She held out her arm and Harry stood up. Much as he disliked side-along, he was curious what Ginny had planned for them. He grasped her forearm and nodded. The wave of nausea hit him as usual, and he bent over and took a few deep breaths of thick, humid air, in an attempt to keep the chocolate down.
"It's dark," Harry thought. He blinked a few times to try and get his eyes to adjust. It wasn't pitch black, he realised as he saw city-glow on the horizon.
"Where are we?" he asked.
"Ireland," Ginny replied.
"Ireland!" Harry thought. He looked around and realised they stood on a small rise overlooking flat land all around. Bugs chirped in the evening mist, then he caught a small flash of blue light off in the distance. He was about to ask what it was but Ginny took his hand and led him part of the way down the small hill. He spotted something lighter coloured in the grass and it wasn't until they were almost on top of it that he recognised it as a blanket.
"Sinistra said there is supposed to be a meteor shower tonight, and I thought you could use something relaxing after Azkaban," Ginny said, "so I figured, why not a midnight picnic?"
Harry chuckled.
"You're a genius," he said.
"I know," Ginny replied. She fished around in her mokeskin pouch and pulled out a small device, then pressed a button. A low whir started, then scaled up in pitch until it went out of Harry's hearing.
"Zippy's insect repeller," Ginny said as she placed it on the edge of the blanket. She pulled sandals off her feet as she stepped onto the wide cloth, and Harry sat down to unlace his boots while Ginny set a plate of what smelled like home-made miniature mincemeat pies between them. Harry's stomach rumbled loudly and Ginny snickered. His eyes had finally adjusted enough to realise they sat on a small hill surrounded on all sides by miles and miles of marshland. He'd thought swamps and bogs and the like were supposed to smell putrid, but apparently that was an exaggeration, or didn't apply to all of them.
"Why a bog though?" Harry asked, but another flash in the distance answered his question.
"That's why," Ginny replied as she pointed, "water faeries."
A streak of silver zipped by overhead and Harry's mouth dropped open as he instinctually pointed up at it.
"Wow," he said. They sat together in the moonless night, hand in hand, as water faeries lit up from below like fireflies in the distance and shooting stars overhead increased in intensity as they settled in. Before long, with Ginny occasionally stroking his hand, all traces of his most recent trip to Azkaban faded away.
"This really is brilliant, I wish I'd thought of it," Harry thought. With the pies finished, Ginny moved the plate out of the way and shifted to lean into him, and he put an arm about her shoulders as they watched the nighttime show. Off in the distance, deep red flashes lit up clouds near the horizon: heat lightning.
"Now, it's perfect, you should ask her," Harry thought. The ring in his pocket grew to occupy all his thoughts.
"But shouldn't it be something I arrange?" he thought, "then again, how am I going to top this? Plus, she's going to be off to training camp soon… what if I don't have another chance?"
His heartrate picked up as he slowly reached for his pouch, and felt around inside for the small velvet lined case. Blood pounded in his ears, drowning out the sound of insects and frogs below, as he slowly pulled it out.
"Ginny?" he said.
"Mmm?" she replied.
He shifted and she sat up. The air felt cool where she'd been. Harry palmed the case so she wouldn't see it straight away.
"For over a year now, I've known.. I love you more than I can say, and…" Harry said.
"Probably should have figured out the speech first. Don't stop now, you'll fuck it up!" he thought, "your knee, get down on one knee!"
He shifted quickly and Ginny gasped and put a hand to her chest as she realised what was going on.
"You're brilliant, in every way, and I know I want to spend the rest of my life with you," Harry said as he produced the case, "I hope… I hope you feel the same way."
He opened the small box and realised it would be nearly impossible to see in the darkness. He drew his wand and wordlessly lit it, purposefully dimming it as much as possible. Even so, the diamond sparkled in brilliant refraction. Ginny's expression of joy and anticipation shocked him, and he fell in love with her all over again, then she looked up from the ring and back at him.
Harry paused.
"Ask, you still have to ask!" he thought.
"Will you marry me?" he asked.
"Yes!" Ginny said, "Oh Merlin yes."
Relief flooded through Harry as Ginny threw her arms about him and kissed him quickly on the lips, then drew back. Her fingers hovered over the ring for a second, as if she were going to pluck it out herself, but she stopped herself and switched to hold her left hand over the box. Harry got the hint and pulled the ring, letting the box drop onto the blanket, and slid his family's ring onto her fourth finger, no easy feat while still holding a wand. Ginny held it up under the light to stare at it for a few seconds.
"It's beautiful," she said.
"You're beautiful," Harry said.
"I didn't think you would ask, not so soon," Ginny said as she placed a hand on Harry's cheek.
"After everything… why wait?" Harry replied.
Ginny responded by kissing him again, and Harry tucked his wand away, draping them in darkness once again. They knelt on the blanket as hands roamed, and Ginny plucked Harry's glasses from his face, then started tugging at his Auror robes. Harry alternately started undoing the clasps of Ginny's robe and running his hands across her back and hips when he realised he felt more of the contours of her body than was normal. He glanced down to catch a glimpse of her pale skin beneath her robe, and her mischievous grin. She slipped her arms out of the robe and let it fall to her hips, as Harry quickly followed suit and pulled his shirt over his head. He'd stood up and managed to get his trousers mostly off before she reached into his boxers, and his mind stopped functioning for a moment as she fondled him, a promise of more to come.
"What if somebody sees?" Harry asked.
"There's nobody for miles," Ginny whispered as she slid his boxers down.
"What about the faeries?" Harry asked.
"I don't think they care… and I'm pretty sure I don't either," Ginny said. She stepped out of her robe and took Harry by the hand to lead him down atop of her. In the back of his mind, he still worried about whatever might be behind him, but in the dark of the moonless night, with only brief streaks of light overhead and the occasional distant blue flashes of the water faeries, the warmth of Ginny naked beneath him quickly captured all his attention. He clasped her hand as he kissed her again, the engagement ring an unfamiliar sensation between their fingers. Of all the things happening in his life, where it seemed every other day something or everything was spinning out of control, Ginny was the one constant, the one person he knew he could pour all his being into, and she would always be there for him. A light breeze brushed against his skin, and the reality of making love outdoors, far from unnerving, exhilarated him. He pressed himself against her wetness, forcing himself to hold off just a few more seconds, until she reached down and grabbed his hips to pull him inside. Whether it was due to anticipation or engagement, her breathing grew sharp within a minute or two, and she clamped around him like a vice. He wasn't far behind, finishing while she was still coming down from her climax. They lay like that for a moment, then Harry opened his robe to use as a makeshift blanket, and they sat together to watch the nighttime show for another hour or so, using one another to keep warm. Harry stifled a yawn, and then another one.
"I'm getting tired too," Ginny said. They dressed quickly, cleaned up, and apparated back to Grimmauld, where Harry kissed her, a lingering, goodnight kiss.
"I love you," Harry said.
"I love you too," Ginny replied. She looked at the engagement ring again and smiled.
"I can't wait to tell my parents tomorrow," she said.
Ginny moved to the fireplace, then glanced over her one last time, then flooed home. Harry replayed the near-perfect evening in his mind as he climbed the steps to his room, and wondered if it was all a dream as he undressed and stumbled into bed.
A loud thump startled Harry awake.
"What was that?" he thought. He rubbed his eyes and reached for his glasses. As the world came into focus, he heard it again, a heavy thump from downstairs. He picked up his wand from the nightstand and threw on a bath robe to descend the steps barefoot. The couch had been moved from the wall and deposited in the middle of the floor, that must have been what woke him. Kreacher busied himself sweeping the corner of the room; his soft mutterings reached Harry's ears. The old house elf turned around and looked up at Harry on the steps.
"Kreacher apologises, the floor was dusty and the couch did not wish to be moved," Kreacher said.
Harry yawned.
"It's okay," he replied, "what time is it?"
"Eleven-thirty," Kreacher replied, "Master Harry usually takes lunch with Master's friend Weasley."
Harry stood up straight as Kreacher's response fell into soft mutterings again.
"Damn, I'm going to be late," he thought as he raced back up the steps. It wasn't until halfway through a quick shower the possibility struck him that Kreacher may have woken him on purpose.
Ten minutes later, hair still wet, Harry flooed over to the Burrow.
"Look who's here!" Arthur said before Harry even finished stepping out of the fireplace.
"Hello," Harry said. Last night's image of Ginny moaning beneath him arose unbidden, and Harry furiously thought about quidditch in an attempt to avoid turning beet red. Had she told them about the engagement yet?
"Ginny? Harry's here," Arthur called up the steps, then he turned back to Harry, "Ron hasn't arrived yet."
Harry nodded as he stepped away from the fireplace. Ginny thumped down the wooden steps, and Harry glanced up to see her bare legs appear first, followed by the rest of her. She wore a simple yellow summer dress, but somehow made it look ravishing.
"Mum? Can you come here? I have something to tell you," she said. She glanced to Harry and bit her lower lip for a second, and Harry noticed she put one hand behind her back.
Harry heard some running water, and then Mrs. Weasley appeared from around the corner with a dishtowel in her hands.
"Umm, I'm not sure how to say this," Ginny said, then she brought her hand up to show the ring on her finger.
Mrs. Weasley gasped.
"Already?" she said as she took three steps to Ginny to get a closer look at the ring, "oh congratulations Ginny, and you too Harry of course."
Even from this distance, Harry saw the sparkle of the diamond in the sun streaming in through the window. Mrs. Weasley continued to fuss over Ginny, and Harry moved to stand next to Arthur.
"Did you tell her?" Harry murmured.
Arthur nodded and grinned, apparently Mrs. Weasley was very good at feigning surprise.
The floo whooshed, and Fred stepped through. He absently brushed soot from his shoulder as he looked around trying to figure out what was going on. Then his eyes widened and snapped to Harry, and then back to Ginny and Mrs. Weasley.
"Let's have a look then," he said as he took up Ginny's hand to see the ring, "well, I guess it'll do."
He smirked and walked over to shake Harry's hand, then punched him in the shoulder, not especially hard, but not exactly a light tap either.
"Ow," Harry said, "what was that for?"
"Just in case," Fred said with a grin, "congrats, took you long enough."
Harry was about to reply that it was only a few weeks after graduation, then realised Fred had made a joke. Harry thought he heard Mrs. Weasley say 'planning' but the floo roared again before he could listen in properly.
"…efficent," Percy said, "oh. Hello mum, dad."
He deposited a light sports coat on the back of one of the chairs
"I hope you don't mind, I asked Penelope over today," he said, "and Fred, it's taken me this long to convince her to come back, so I hope we won't have a repeat of Christmas… what's going on?"
The floo roared again as Penelope Clearwater stepped through; her curly hair bounced as she caught her balance. Unlike Percy, she glanced around the room first and immediately spotted the ring on Ginny's finger. Then she rounded on Percy.
"You didn't tell me this was an engagement party," she said as she smoothed out her dress.
"I didn't know, honestly," Percy said. Harry felt like he had to come to Percy's defence.
"It's true, I only asked her last night," he said. Mollified, Penelope took up Ginny's hand where Molly had just released it, while Percy glanced quickly as he walked by, then moved past to where Harry stood.
"You know Harry, for once in your life you might put forth a little effort in not making the rest of us look bad," Percy said quietly as he shook Harry's hand, "congratulations, really."
"Thanks Percy," Harry said. A soft pop sounded from outside and Ron appeared in the doorway. He took in the scene and Harry caught a split-second of severe melancholy on his face as he realised what was happening, then Ron grinned and walked around to the far side of the table to get to the kitchen. Harry detached himself and slipped away to join him. Ron offered Harry a plate of sliced apples and pears.
"Congratulations, when's the wedding?" Ron asked. Harry took a piece of pear, cold and wet in his hand.
"No idea, probably not anytime soon," Harry said.
"You'd better go intercept mum then, she'll be planning the seating charts by nightfall," Ron said. Harry smirked. He was about to ask Ron if he was okay, but as if summoned, Mrs. Weasley appeared in the doorway.
"Ronald! No eating until everyone has sat down, you know better!" she said. Ron had set the plate down before she'd even finished his name and managed to look appropriately abashed.
"Congratulations Harry, Arthur and I are so pleased," she said, "have you set a date for the wedding?"
"Ah, no, not actually, yet," Harry said as Ron took the opportunity to slip out towards the table. Harry followed him.
"Oh well don't you worry about that, Arthur and I can help with the planning," Mrs. Weasley said as she ushered him towards the table.
Harry was about to reply when Ginny caught him with an absolutely radiant smile, and he forgot all about Mrs. Weasley and wedding planning and everything else. He stepped forward to embrace her tightly, and off to the side he thought he heard Penelope give off a happy sigh. They took their seats and enjoyed a loud and boisterous lunch, and although Ron seemed more reserved than usual, Harry thought he might be moving past Tammy's death, or at least coping better.
"Right, Harry, everyone, I have something to show you," Arthur announced as he set his napkin on the table. He stood up and walked towards the door, and Harry followed suit. Ginny slipped her hand into his.
"Do you know what this is?" Harry whispered, but Ginny shook her head.
"Come along, everyone," Arthur called from outside.
Chairs scraped as the Weasleys stood up and bustled outside. Ron and Fred jostled for position while Percy and Penelope linked arms and followed from behind.
The summer sun shone down and insects buzzed from the nearby tall grass, and Harry quickly grew warm in the heat. Arthur led them to the shed and unlocked the door. A moment later, he re-emerged with his wand out, followed closely by the large, sheet covered object Harry had seen earlier.
"This is for you, Harry," Arthur said as the object settled onto the grass, "I'd intended for it to be a birthday surprise, but, well… go on."
Harry stepped forward. It was a large object, maybe five feet around, and stood up to Harry's chest, lumpy bits protruding from under the off-white sheet. Harry bent over to pick up a corner and with a single large pull, revealed the surprise. Sparkling in the afternoon sun stood a distinctly muggle motorbike and sidecar. Not just any motorbike, Harry realised, but Sirius' motorbike, perfectly repaired and polished.
"Whoa," Ron said.
"After you crashed here that night year before last, I brought it into the shed, and it just sort of sat there until earlier this year," Arthur said, as he approached, "I've even added an invisibility booster, here. That was not easy to get to work with the electric light on the front, believe me, but after a fair bit of tinkering, I think I've got it."
"Wow, I don't know what to say… thank you," Harry said. He touched the handlebar of the bike.
"It's my pleasure Harry," Arthur said.
"No really, it has been, I've barely seen him," Molly said, "why didn't you tell me you were working on Sirius' old bike?"
Arthur shrugged.
"Alright enough of that. Go on Harry, give it a try!" Ron said loudly.
As he attempted to contain his grin, Harry swung a leg over the seat and reached for the handlebars, and Arthur stepped close to point at a key already stuck into the bike's dash.
"Right, you turn that there, that's right," he said, "that's the go-faster thing, there's the gear taker-outer, this is the gear-picker, those are your brakes, and you pull the handlebars to go up, and push to go down."
He pointed at the various items and Harry nodded as he tried to commit everything to memory.
"You won't need the invisibility booster inside the wards, but it's just there," Arthur said, "and let's see… what else… oh, it has a lever type thingy down here to get the motor running."
"A kickstart," Harry thought.
He found the small step for his foot and made sure he had his balance, then pressed down. The motor turned over with a groan, but didn't start.
"Harder!" Arthur said as he made a motion with his hands.
Harry tried again, with the same result. He quirked his lips and resolved to put everything he had into the next try.
"Uh, right, better stand back," Arthur said as he moved away, just as Harry practically jumped on the kickstart.
"Wait, what?" Harry thought too late to stop his momentum. The engine roared to life then settled into a low rumbling vibration between his legs. Arthur, grinning like a kid in a candy store, gave him a thumbs up.
"Okay… I'm sure it's safe," Harry thought.
He gently pulled back on the handlebars, but though they moved, he stayed very much on the ground.
"You have to get up a little speed first," Arthur said, still overly excited.
"Yes of course, why didn't I think of that," Harry thought.
He twisted the throttle gently and the engine picked up in pitch, then Harry remembered the gear shift. He squeezed the clutch and used the lever by his foot to get it in gear, then released the clutch. The motorbike lurched forward, causing him to almost fall backwards, and the motor died.
"Gently, gently," Arthur said, as he made a squeezing and twisting motion with his hands. Harry kickstarted the engine again. Determined to get it right, he slowly released the clutch while increasing throttle, the way Arthur had shown him, and this time the bike accelerated forward evenly. He made a few turns then pulled back on the handlebars, and the bike easily lifted off the ground. Harry grinned as he switched to second gear and made a slow circuit of the Burrow, and Harry noticed the wheels didn't move when the bike was in the air. He angled down and landed neatly back on the patch of grass where he'd started, then switched the engine off and heard a smattering of light applause.
"Well, what do you think?" Arthur asked.
"It's brilliant, you're a genius," Harry replied.
"Ah, well, I wouldn't go that far," Arthur said, "it's just a hobby of mine."
Harry glanced over to the others and saw the desire clearly in their eyes. There was, after all, a side car demanding to be used. He kickstarted the engine again and looked over at the Weasleys assembled on the grass. He was about to wave Ron over, but then he paused and considered Ginny, who he'd just asked to be his wife.
"Damn, who should I ask to go first?" he thought.
The decision was made for him when Ginny slid behind Ron and used her shoe to not-so-gently shove his backside towards the bike.
"Try not to crash into any trees this time," she called over the rumble of the engine. Ron turned around and held his hands out, then made a motion for Ginny to take the first ride, but Ginny waved him off, and Ron all but skipped over to the side car and slid in.
"This is amazing mate, I had no idea my dad was working on it," Ron said.
Harry grinned. He was starting to get the hang of the bike, and tried a few shallow dives and climbs with Ron in the side car, while his friend alternately leaned out to stare at the ground, or leaned back to look at the clouds. Harry just gotten up into third gear when a brown and orange object rocketed past his head, and he ducked, but not before seeing the glint in Ginny's eye and her smirk, red hair streaming behind her as she buzzed them from astride the Firebolt. She flew ahead of them, twisted into full roll and a half to inverted, then pulled into a split-S to dive beneath them in the opposite direction, daring him to give chase.
"Harry…" Ron said.
"Strap in," Harry said.
"Harry," Ron said with a note of warning in his voice, but Harry pulled sharply on the handlebars, causing the bike to climb almost vertical.
"Harry there's no straps!" Ron shouted as he clutched the edges of the sidecar, and Harry pulled the handlebars to the left. The bike and sidecar hovered for one incredibly long second, then fell to the side and plummeted towards the ground in a wing-over manoeuvre.
"Oh Merlin!" Ron shouted as he braced himself as best he could to keep from sliding around.
Harry engaged the engine again and pulled back on the handlebars to even them out and angle down towards Ginny's streaking form.
"You can't catch a Firebolt on an enchanted motorbike!" Ron yelled over the roar of the wind. Harry ignored him and slammed the bike into fourth gear as the wind whipped his hair. Tears streaked back towards his ears and Harry squinted his eyes to keep sight of his girlfriend against the brown and yellow ground.
"Fiancée," Harry corrected himself.
"Wards, wards!" Ron shouted, and Harry looked down to see the marker at the edge of the Weasley property, and that Ginny had already peeled off to the left. He braked and yanked hard on the handlebars, but the motorbike was not as nimble as the Firebolt, and they slid out past the wards. Harry pulled on the invisibility booster and the whole bike took on a translucent hue; Harry could actually see Ron's legs through the side car. He hoped that from the outside, they were fully invisible. He turned back and, having lost sight of Ginny, steered them back towards the Burrow, flipped off the invisibility booster, and landed. Ron stepped out of the car on shaky legs.
"Brilliant," he said.
They took turns riding in the side car, and when Harry got tired, Arthur took over to ferry people around a bit while Harry and Ginny lay on the grass and watch the clouds, or the occasional enchanted motorbike or broom fly by.
It wasn't until dinner that they stopped, and although Mrs. Weasley invited him over to stay, Harry had some work to finish before heading back to the Ministry the following day, and Ron begged off as well.
"I can't thank you enough Mr. Weasley," Harry said as he stood by the bike, "I just realised though, I have no place to put it. Do you mind if we keep it in the shed for the time being?"
"Certainly," Arthur said, "as long as you don't mind if I take it out for a test ride now and then."
He winked and Harry grinned.
Harry picked up the paper and nearly spit his coffee out. He unfurled it to see a banner headline splayed across the front page, and started reading on his way back to the dining room table.
SECURITY LAPSE AT MINISTRY – BELLATRIX LESTRANGE
by Rita Skeeter
Thought slain at the Battle of Hogwarts, Bellatrix Lestrange, One of You-Know-Who's most ardent supporters and rumoured lover, has been found alive and well, living at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The source of this information is an unprecedented preview of a draft security review, prepared for the Minister of Magic. If the findings in the draft are true, it is the Daily Prophet's duty to report serious security lapses in Minister Kingsley's administration.
In the report, which at this point we must stress has not yet been finalised, we learn that Bellatrix Lestrange had infiltrated Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and posed as a transfer student named Julia White for the entirety of the 1998-1999 school year. If that name sounds familiar, dear readers, recall that we ran an article on this exact student, questioning her background, and were brushed off by both Hogwarts and the Ministry. We also reported that Lestrange, under the alias Julia White, had struck up a friendship with Hermione Granger. What nefarious purpose could there be to this? Has she somehow subverted our war hero and Harry Potter's good friend? We reached out to Granger for interview, but she has apparently fled the country.
According to the report, Lestrange was accepted to Hogwarts based on Ministry certified transfer and identification papers. If one of the most notorious Death Eaters can fake her death and hide in plain sight, what else is the Ministry missing? How can we be assured the werewolves currently flocking to our shores for the promise of employment and taxpayer funded Wolfsbane potions are not also wanted criminals, or that the Death Eaters that have been reported killed or captured are in fact off the streets?
The Ministry draft lays part of the blame of the security lapse on staffing issues related to the Wizarding Equality Act, one of the Kingsley administration's key legislative victories. While well intentioned, the report indicates the implementation of the Act has been poorly planned and executed, as we are sure many of our readers would agree based on their first-hand experience with the serious decline in the quality of operations for any Ministry related functions.
Currently, we are told Lestrange is safe in custody, and surely a trial is in the offing, but beyond this, what is next for the Ministry? Anonymous interviews with Aurors indicate long hours, serious discontent with Azkaban patrols, and concern over the recent high casualty rate. More than a year after You-Know-Who's defeat, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement has yet to catch the remaining Death Eaters, who continue to conduct terror operations against our population. Issues ranging from a stagnant economy, high crime, stacked on top of the aforementioned WEA issues continue to pile up against the Kingsley administration, and calls for an election of a new Minister are growing.
There is no comment from the Ministry regarding the leaked report at this point, and the questions of the people deserve answers. For what the future holds, rest assured that the Daily Prophet will resolutely report all your essential news as this breaking story develops.
Harry set the paper down.
"So, it's started," Harry thought. Skeeter always left a bad taste in his mouth, but in this case he couldn't really fault her. The Ministry had cocked up fairly well by missing Bellatrix, and all of the other issues were definitely problems. After the meeting with Kingsley, he'd thought about who he wanted for the next Minister, and only thought of one person he trusted to do the right thing. Harry took one last extra-large bite of scrambled eggs and stood up to walk to the floo. He tucked the paper under his arm and tossed in a pinch of powder.
"Ministry of Magic," he said as the flames roared. He appeared in the floo corridor leading to the Atrium and took the lift to the Wizengamot offices, found the door he was looking for, and knocked just below the plate that read 'Arthur Weasley'.
"Come in," came the reply.
Harry opened the door to see Arthur at a functional looking wooden desk. Filing cabinets lined one wall, and a picture frame on the opposite wall was charmed to look like a window facing out into some autumn themed woods. A set of silver balls on strings clicked incessantly, and Harry noted several other muggle knickknacks on the desk, including a small model bird that continuously dipped its beak into water.
"Harry, come in, come in," Arthur said as he stood up and Harry closed the door behind him, "what can I do for you?"
"Have you seen today's Prophet?" Harry asked as he opened the paper and laid it on Mr. Weasley's desk.
"I had, yes," Arthur replied with a frown, "it seems as though Kingsley may have tried to do too much, too quickly."
"He said he might not survive this," Harry said, "I mean his administration."
Arthur grimaced and nodded.
"It doesn't look good, but don't count him out," Arthur said, "he may not look it, but Kingsley is a wily one."
"Well… assuming he's voted out, what would you think about running?" Harry asked, "I can't think of anyone better."
Arthur blinked in surprised.
"Me? Oh, I don't think that would work," Arthur replied, "we've only just received our seat, and becoming Minister would almost certainly be a bridge too far for some of the progressive members, not to mention the traditionalists."
"Wouldn't the progressives be no your side? I mean, I assumed…" Harry said, but Arthur was already shaking his head.
"Macmillian's been waiting for years for a chance, and he's built a sizable coalition," Arthur said.
"Macnair can't stand him though," Harry said, "honestly I'm not sure about either of them."
Arthur nodded.
"Between you and me, I know what you mean," he said, "but assuming it comes down to it, I'll wager neither of them will have the votes to win outright. If neither of them can be persuaded to vote for a compromise choice, it's likely to come down to whoever can bring enough votes together to play kingmaker."
Harry chuckled and smiled.
"I thought you didn't like politics," Harry said.
"I don't, but that doesn't mean it's not important," Arthur replied with a smile of his own, "though you know who comes to mind who might be able to help? Your friend Frances Winthrop. He himself is a relative newcomer, but his father was long-serving, and he already has some legislative accomplishments under his belt."
Harry nodded, it made sense on the surface, but he'd have to dig into it deeper to find out what was the best angle of attack.
"And talk to Ron," Harry thought, "if anyone can sort through this political minefield and figure out what the best play is, it's him."
"Right, well, thanks for this, Mr. Weasley," Harry said, "I've got to get to work."
"Don't we all," Arthur replied.
Harry returned to his desk to find Ron standing next to it, tapping his foot and holding an envelope.
"There you are," Ron said as he handed the stationary to Harry. He looked down to see his own name written in familiar, cramped-style handwriting.
"Hermione's back," Ron said.
A/N: Please review. Next Chapter status is in my profile.
