Harry Potter and the Secret of Aquastilla

by Nick Ottery

Set shortly after the famous trio have left Hogwarts we travel to deepest Albania where it seems that Harry's defeat of Voldemort was not quite as final as it appeared.

7. Another Beginning

Chapter 7: Another Beginning

The next morning Harry woke early so that he could take a long, hot shower before facing the extensive day he had ahead of him.

The house was still and silent as he made his way to the shower room which was cold from a window that had been left open overnight. Stepping from the chill of the room, he rejoiced in the stream of invigorating, hot water that fell around him. He stood for several minutes as he gently massaged his head and lathered his hair. He allowed himself to breathe in the calming essences of Hermione's shampoo that he had to use until he could get himself sorted.

After leaving the sanctuary of the shower he stood for a few moments, a soft towel wrapped around his waist, examining his body in the mirror. Already, the short time back in civilization had had a marked effect on his appearance. In Albania he had become increasingly thin and haggard, his ribs clearly defined down his front, and his face drawn and gaunt as though only a thin sheet was drawn over his skull. Now he looked more fleshed out. His bruises were slowly fading, and only the faint red lines across his torso showed where Voldemort had delivered the near fatal blow in Hogwarts two months previous. His tussled hair was erratic as ever but he felt more content with his appearance than he had done in a long time.

He thought back to the last two years in Hogwarts. Then the war had raged long and hard and he had taken to hiding in an abandoned store room he had found on the sixth floor. He had stored his books and materials there, and if he wasn't in classes, or with Dumbledore, or Snape, he would lock himself in it and study by the light of a single flickering candle. At least he liked to think he had studied, but now looking back he was not so sure.

He knew that Hermione and Ron had been anxious about him, but he felt that shutting them out was the best thing. At first they had tried to convince him otherwise, but by that point he was too far gone. He couldn't stand being around other people, and the more time he spent away, the more he had become suspicious and angry with the world around him. Towards the middle of the seventh year he spent virtually all his spare time in his hiding place, and like Kreacher, the house elf at Grimmauld Place, he had given up on the world and started to dwell on a past he had never had. He became weaker, and his body fell into a state of only half life. Dumbledore seemed unable to help him, even though they spent time together; Dumbledore passing on his immense knowledge of fighting the dark arts. No one could help him, he only held on to life so that he could deprive Voldemort of it, which was all he wanted....

"Harry!"

The shout from the other side of the bathroom door shook Harry out of his memories. Hastily gathering his things he left the bathroom, hurrying past a dishevelled haired Ron who stood bleary eyed on the landing clutching his own towel. They exchanged silent greetings and Harry returned quickly to his room. There he dressed before making his way downstairs to get some breakfast.

When he arrived Hermione was already there, her head buried in the Daily Prophet as usual.

"Morning Hermione. What's new?"

"Hello Harry", she said turning slightly to look at him, "Another Death Eater has been taken in. The Aurors tracked him down near Aberystwyth sometime in the night."

"Who was it?" he said, sitting down with a bowl of cereal. He knew that deep down he didn't care which one it happened to be – each was as bad as the other and all of them would have to be caught.

"The Ministry isn't releasing details."

"Is that what it has been like all summer?"

"Yes, very much so. They have only announced it fully when one of the big names has been caught. Not that there of many of them still around – thanks to you."

"It was the Order", Harry mumbled into his cereal, not wanting to get into this discussion right now.

"So, what time are you leaving?" Hermione said, briskly moving to the new topic.

"I'll give it another half an hour or so. I am going to apparate."

"That one tube journey the other night was enough to convince you that apparating has its benefits?"

"I guess so."

"Morning you two!"

They both turned to see Ron step into the room. He had on an elegant red ministry robe, the emblem prominent on his left side. Underneath Harry caught glimpses of a slightly worn pair of black trousers and a chequered shirt.

"You are looking smart Ron", said Hermione casting her eyes over him, "Meeting someone special?" she finished, a wry smile on her face.

"No", said Ron, a little too quickly it seemed to Harry, "I thought I would take Harry up to the Minister's office."

"Thanks", said Harry; he always seemed to get confused by the office layout in the Ministry of Magic, "I'm not putting you out of your way am I?"

"No - not at all. The office I work in is not far from there."

"Ok, when do you want to head off?"

"Well, let me get some breakfast first mate!"

With Ron accompanying him Harry had no choice but to brave the underground again. This time though it was rush hour and the entire place was packed with muggles. Harry and Ron were well hidden, even if the prying eyes of Rita Skeeter and Colin Creevey were still lurking.

Half an hour later Harry found himself in the familiar damp alleyway off The Strand. Ron walked past the telephone box Harry normally used when visiting the Ministry and carried on until he stopped in front of a grimy door set slightly back from the main passageway. The door was covered in filth and didn't appear to have a handle. Ron pressed his hand to the door, leaving it for a second before withdrawing it. Harry could see that a clear handprint was now set in the dust. Slowly the remaining grime around the hand print started to flow and spiral in towards the middle of the print. From the center of the palm-print something started to grow, protruding out from the door until it formed into a neat brass handle. Ron grasped it and opened the door, allowing Harry to enter the dim corridor beyond. The corridor soon led to a set of stairs which spiralled down. A moment later, Harry emerged through a second door, into the marble atrium that stood at the entrance to the Ministry of Magic.

Despite the length of their journey, it suddenly felt as though he had had no time to think about what coming to the Ministry would mean, and how he was going to have to face the rest of the Wizarding World. Stepping out of the small antechamber into which he and Ron had appeared felt like diving under water without first taking a breath. He wasn't sure he was going to be able to come up on the other side.

The atrium was absolutely heaving with witches and wizards hurrying to start the day. Many were buried behind copies of the Daily Prophet, whilst others were concentrating on straightening out their clothes after another violent plunge through the Floo Network.

Harry and Ron joined the unassuming crowd as it headed past the Statue of Magical Brethren, rebuilt since the battle held more than two years ago. All of the representations had been resculptured. The wizard and witch had been replaced. Now the wizard had considerably more unkempt hair and the suggestion of glasses. This had always made Harry feel slightly embarrassed since it had been erected. The witch stood close by him, and the other creatures all had much haughtier bearings, none of them looking up to the witch or wizard but neither ignoring them completely. Despite the look of the wizard, Harry was very pleased with the new version of the fountain – even the house elf stood slightly away from the others, its arms crossed and a crisp looking toga draping from its shoulders.

Harry peeled away from the crowd and went over to where a portly wizard was sitting in front of a gilded desk. Eric Munch rose stiffly as Harry approached and indicated the desk, onto which Harry placed his wand.

He examined the wand, going through the usual procedure, before turning his eyes to Harry.

"'Ere, why aren't you wearing your badge?"

Ron, hurrying up behind Harry, had evidently heard this and cut in before Harry could speak.

"It's ok Eric, he is with me. I brought him in the staff entrance – he wants to go incognito."

"Why does he want to do a thing like that?" Eric said, blinking at Ron as he spoke. "'Ere, who are you anyway?" Eric said, turning slowly back to face Harry.

Harry sighed deeply. Years ago he had pretended to be Neville Longbottom, but now he was sick of hiding behind another name, and besides he wouldn't feel comfortable knowing the real Neville Longbottom was in St Mungo's.

"I'm Harry Potter; I've come to see the Minister."

There was a moment of awkward silence as these words sank in. Then Eric leant forward, his leathery hand held out, and in a low voice said, "Sorry, didn't recognise you there Mr Potter." There was a solemn moment as Eric and Harry shook hands, "My deepest thanks to you."

Harry was touched; he had expected Eric to raise a commotion. Instead he was shaking him firmly by the hand. Harry wasn't sure what to say. Thankfully Ron came to his rescue, tugging gently on his sleeve.

"Sorry, Eric, we have a meeting to get to."

"Yes, of course Mr Potter. Don't let me stop you. Have a pleasant day!"

"Thank you Eric."

And with that Harry turned and walked past the gilded screens, through the great golden gates and into the room where the lift doorways stood. Ron had made his way over to a lift in the far corner. They joined a half dozen or so other witches and wizards standing impatiently in the lift as it made its way down through the levels of the ministry. By the time they reached level one they had a flock of memos fluttering around their heads which scattered off down the hallways as the doors opened.

Harry and Ron stepped into a very elegantly furnished corridor. There was much use of gold and they felt their feet sinking slightly into the rich pile of the ruby red carpet. Lining the walls were portraits of previous Ministers of Magic. Most of them were dozing against the sides of the portraits, but some were having animated discussions. Harry caught snatches of conversation – they seemed to be discussing current affairs – Death Eater captures, Giant emissaries were all words being bandied around the corridor. As the two young men passed they picked up the attention of several characters, and shortly after, Harry heard his name being mentioned in several portraits.

Set between the portraits were heavy oak doors, all bearing important administrative titles. This was the corridor where the most important Ministry staff worked and there was a constant flurry of memos zipping between the various doors.

The final portrait they found showed the last Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, resplendent in his green bowler hat. The other portraits around him seemed to be ignoring him, though Harry was sure that a group on the far side were casting occasional glances at Fudge and snickering.

At the very end of the corridor they came to two swarthy goblins, dressed in shining gold chain mail and ruby red cloaks, standing in front of a large set of double doors. Harry could see the plaque on the front that said 'Minister of Magic'.

"State your business!" the shorter of the two goblins barked at the newcomers.

"I am Harry Potter. I have a meeting with the Minister."

The two goblins exchanged glances before bowing out of the way to admit Harry.

"So, I'll see you later then, Harry?" Ron said, "Good luck!" and with that he turned down a second corridor that branched off to the left.

Harry watched his friends retreating back before taking a deep breath and pushing the doors open. They moved surprisingly easy for things of such apparent weight. He stepped into a sumptuous office decorated in a similar style to the corridor outside. Tall windows stood on two sides of the room, casting the unnatural, charmed sunlight through into the room. There were more portraits on the wall. On the side where Harry stood, next to the doors was a large map of wizarding Britain. Harry rotated slowly, taking this all in. Then he looked to the center where an ancient, highly polished mahogany desk stood on four thick legs carved to look like dragons claws. The desk was covered with parchments and scrolls, neatly stacked in ordered piles. Several elaborately plumaged quills stood in a holder, and there was a row of different coloured ink wells. Behind the desk, almost eclipsed by its vastness sat a broad shouldered witch, a copy of the Daily Prophet spread out in front of her. She was scrutinising a story through her monocle.

"Err…?" said Harry, suddenly feeling very nervous.

With a small jump Amelia Bones looked up.

"Goodness me, is that the time?" an elaborate contraption standing on the desk, which Harry took to be a clock of sorts, was making a strange sort of humming noise. "Good morning Mr Potter."

Her slightly started expression changed to a kindly smile as she swept her sharp eyes across him.

"Please Minister, Harry is fine."

"Well in that case, Amelia is also fine. Come over here so I can see you properly."

Harry made his way across the room, skirting the desk to stand facing her. He was head and shoulders above her short grey hair but he still felt rather small.

"My dear Harry", she stepped forward and took his hand, "It is so very good to see you. How ever are we going to repay you?"

"For what Minister?"

"Now don't insult my intelligence Harry – you know what I am talking about."

"I just did what I had to do", Harry shrugged.

"Yes you did Harry, you stepped in to meet your destiny, where others would have run from it. The entire wizarding world is in your debt Harry. Who knows what Voldemorts ultimate plan was, the only thing we can be sure of is that it would have meant a terrible and foul future for us all. You have rid us of that threat Harry – we owe our continuing existence as a good wizarding race to you."

Harry felt overwhelmed. Sometime during the last two years the purpose of his struggle against Voldemort had changed from protecting his friends and loved ones, to a personal vendetta between the two of them. Trapped inside the castle whilst the wizarding world fought a war that had raged across Europe, Harry had only ever thought of Voldemort. Dumbledore and Snape had trained him simply to face Voldemort. To him that was all it was about. He hadn't saved the world – he had avenged the pain and suffering Voldemort had inflicted on him over the last eighteen years.

"Everyone played their part", said Harry. It was the simple truth.

"Yes but you were the key to everything. It rested on your shoulders and you came through for us. We are eternally grateful. There is much within my power in this position – if I can do anything for you, please name it."

"I'm not really sure what to say Minister", said Harry, again suddenly feeling nervous.

Just at that moment the double doors swung open and in walked a house-elf bearing a silver tea tray, followed by Ron's dad – Arthur Weasley. The house elf had on a ruby red sheet worn toga style with a Ministry of Magic clasp at the shoulder. Arthur Weasley was wearing a cloak similar to that which Ron had been wearing earlier on, and looked very smart indeed.

"Ah excellent!" exclaimed Madam Bones upon seeing him, "Good morning Arthur" She turned to watch the house-elf set the tray down on a table in the corner, "And thank you very much."

"Will there be anything else Madam Minister?" the house elf squeaked.

"No thank you - that will be all."

The three people watched the elf leave the room, the doors shutting silently behind him. Arthur immediately went up to Harry and clapped a hand upon his shoulder.

"It's good to see you Harry!" Arthur said, a broad smile on his face. Up close Harry could see his kindly face was lined – he had been in the vanguard of the war and it showed. "I would just like to add my humble thanks to what I'm sure the Minister has already said."

"Thank you Mr Weasley, but as I have explained to the Minister – I was just doing my bit. Everyone played a part – you more than most."

"Well anyway Harry", said Mr Weasley, sounding slightly put out, "you have done a great thing and we are extremely grateful."

"Yes Arthur, I have explained this to him."

"Well, Harry is known for his stubbornness", Arthur said, giving Harry a small wink.

"Now that you have arrived Arthur, I think it would be beneficial to hear your account of Voldemort's final hour Harry. That is if you are comfortable with telling us at this time."

"I am ready", Harry sighed, silently thanking Ron and Hermione for listening to him yesterday.

"Splendid! Why don't we all take a seat", Madam Bones walked over to the corner of the office. Here there were arranged several comfy leather armchairs set around the low coffee table where the house elf had placed the tray. They sat down and Harry began to talk whilst Mr Weasley poured them each a cup of piping hot tea.

Harry told them everything, just as he had done with Ron and Hermione the previous day. He explained about his reasons for suspecting Albania, a brief account of his travels, and then a detailed description of his actions on the day when Voldemort fell.

The Minister and Mr Weasley listened with a keen interest. Harry thought the Minister might be able to shed new light on certain things, but she hardly spoke, allowing him to continue his narrative. Mr Weasley had a quill out and had quickly covered several parchments in his small, neat writing.

Harry finally came to the end of his account. He sat back in the luxuriant chair and took a deep breath. The Minister was sat, looking at him intently, though her monocle hung down the front of her blouse. Mr Weasley was hurriedly finishing off the last few sentences.

"May we see note, and the ashes please?" the Minister sounded slightly shaken.

"Of course", said Harry, pulling them out and placing them on the coffee table so that they could both reach them. There was the small pouch Harry had used to carry the ashes, and the crumpled note he had been given in the cemetery.

Mr Weasley looked grimly at the pouch before putting it on top of the parchment.

"I shall get this analysed Harry. As you said, this will be indisputable proof of the death of Voldemort. Any doubters will be silenced by this."

Harry was about to answer, but was caught off by the sharp inhalation of breath the Minister had suddenly taken.

"It is as I thought!"

"What is Minister?" said Mr Weasley, turning to look at the note she held in her hand.

"Arthur, do you remember the report we filed on the Jorkins case?"

"Yes, I have had to use it a lot for this report on Voldemort."

"Then you will know the name of the valley – the valley Harry visited the other day?"

"Yes, of course, it is the Valley of Aquastilla."

The Minister said nothing; she simply nodded and continued to stare at the note. After a few moments Mr Weasley spoke up.

"What are you thinking Minister?"

Madam Bones shook herself and placed the monocle back in her eye.

"Nothing Arthur – will you get your group to have a look through this today? There may be something we need to do", it seemed to Harry that at this moment she gave him a fleeting glance, "soon."

"Very good Minister – we shall get onto it right away."

Mr Weasley gathered the parchment he had been taking notes on and stood up to leave.

"Thank you for coming Arthur."

Harry stood up so that he could shake Mr Weasley's hand.

"Thank you Harry – now that I have the details you shouldn't have to recount any of it again if you don't want to."

"What is going to happen to that?" said Harry, pointing at the sheaf of parchment.

"Well, we are going to assimilate it into the report we are putting together on Voldemort and his defeat. Your story is the backbone to this whole case. Anyway, I must be going. I'm sure I shall see you very soon Harry."

They shook hands and Mr Weasley left the room, the doors sliding shut after him to leave Harry alone, once again, with the Minister of Magic.

"Now Harry, where were we?" said the Minister, tapping her wand against her monocle, "Ah yes, your reward. I can give you anything Harry – what do you want?"

"Well, I suppose what I really want", said Harry, he had had time to think it through whilst telling his story, "is a normal life."

"So, what do you ask of me?" Madam Bones replied.

"I am not sure. I still have some of the money which my parents left me. I suppose I should think about looking for a job."

"A job?" said the Minister, eyeing him strangely, "I suppose we could find something fitting – though why you want to work Harry is beyond me."

"Like I said, I just want to forget all this stuff and live a normal life."

"Well, what do you think you would be good at?"

"That is the trouble – I don't think there is a job for me, what with such appalling NEWTs", sighed Harry dejectedly.

"Nonsense!"

"But I don't have the required qualifications", protested Harry.

"Well, whilst Hogwarts may view grades as the distinguishing mark of a good wizard. I myself believe that a wizard may distinguish himself simply by exhibiting great skill and power in the face of almost insurmountable odds. You Harry, are one of the most powerful wizards I have ever come across. I don't care whether you have a full compliment of NEWTS or no NEWTS, what you showed two months ago, and by your account this very week, is a strength and determination far exceeding your years."

"So…", said Harry, slightly taken aback by this.

"So, Harry, one might say that the world is your oyster."

"But, about a job…?"

"Harry", the Minister arched an eyebrow, "I didn't believe that stubbornness is held in quite such high regard."

"But what can I be?" Harry replied, slightly perplexed now.

"The question is Harry, what do you want to be?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders; he genuinely didn't know what to say to that question. He saw across his mind various images flashing – winning the Qudditch World Cup, training as an Auror, joining Bill Weasley as a curse-breaker – but nothing seemed to stick for very long.

Madam Bones gave a quiet sigh, "Why don't we sit down again Harry?" she indicated the comfy armchair behind Harry. "We've spent enough time discussing your past. I think it is time we started looking to the future."

They sat in silence for a moment. Harry once again trying to reconcile the skills he knew he possessed with a possible future.

"Harry, since you seem determined to get a job, the best I can do is offer you a post here in the Ministry."

"But…"

"No Harry, no 'but's'. I already have explained my views on your education. I believe you possess the skills necessary to succeed in virtually any department here in the Ministry. However, I think that although now you may desire a 'quiet' life, you would grow tired with a desk job. In lieu of that I would ask whether you would want to join C-Branch?"

"What branch?" said Harry, who was completely confused.

"C-Branch, it is a small part of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, associated with the Auror Division."

"And what would I be doing?"

"It is essentially a research and development team which specialises in countering the use of the dark arts. They are responsible for providing support to the Aurors out in the field with instant feedback on situations. They also work on developing counter-curses, curses and so on that can be used against dark wizards. Your knowledge of curses, and your experience fighting the dark arts would be an invaluable asset to C-Branch."

"That sounds brilliant!" said Harry, for the first time actually feeling excited about the prospects of starting a job.

The Minister smiled for the first time in a while.

"Excellent Harry. I am glad I have managed to find something that appeals to you. Obviously Arthur is the head of the Department, but I shall ask you to report to Melville Cummin, the head of C-Branch. If you go out of the door and turn left, the first door on the right is my assistant's office. Talk to him - he will be able to make all the arrangements."

"Thank you Minister."

The Minister again arched an eyebrow, "No Harry, thank you", and with that she stood up, seemingly indicating that the meeting was over. Harry felt a wave of relief wash over him, he stood also and shook her hand which she held out to him, "Good luck, Harry, I hope I shall see in the corridors very soon!"

Harry gathered up his cloak and was just about to turn to leave when a thought struck him.

"Minister?"

"Yes Harry?"

"In the letter you sent me you said you would want me to speak to the…the Press Relations people?"

"Oh no! I knew I shouldn't have asked Asark to take care of that letter. I am very sorry Harry, I was very busy the other day and so I asked my assistant, Asark, to write to you and arrange this meeting. Evidently he took it on himself to inject a bit of his own venom into it. I believe that certain members of his family came off rather badly from your defeat of Voldemort."

"Why do you still employ him if his allegiance is uncertain?" asked Harry.

"Oh, he is exceedingly loyal, but at times he does let certain things slip. That is a goblin for your – marvellous assistants, but they can get carried away sometimes. Anyway, no need to worry about PR, my department is more than capable of handling that. We'll get everything sorted out with the press."

"Ok, thanks Minister. Good bye."

"Good bye dear."

Harry left the room and stepped back out into the corridor. The two goblins standing outside admitted him past and he took the left corridor, down which he had seen Ron walk earlier. Just as the Minister had described, there was a door on the right hand side with a gold sign that announced 'Asark Rish'Gaad: Assistant to the Minister'. Harry wasn't sure why, but there was something about them that made him nervous around Goblins. He paused for a moment before giving the door a gentle knock. Almost immediately the door swung open and he walked forward into the room.

For a moment he thought there was no one there. He was about to turn to leave when he heard a noise up above his right ear. He turned and came face to face with the ugliest goblin he had yet come across staring down at him. The goblin was standing at the top of a small step ladder he was using to reach some files stacked high up on the wall. He had a large forehead, close cropped dark hair, and a set of pince-nez balanced on the end of his long, pointy nose.

"May I help?" he said in an oily sort of way.

"Err…yes…the Minister sent me."

"Oh she did, did she? Well come on, out with out, I don't have all day!"

"Yes, well, she has given me a job in C-Branch", Harry said, trying to make it sound important, despite knowing very little about it.

To his consternation the goblin suddenly let out a high pitched cackle. He descended the steps, now carrying several ledgers, and went over to his cluttered desk where he dropped them with a resounding thud.

"You in C-Branch?" the Goblin cackled even louder, clutching his sides.

"Yes", said Harry, starting to feel rather annoyed.

"I don't believe you."

Just then a memo flittered in through the doorway that Harry had left open. The goblin snatched it out of the air, adjusted his glasses and read it. The cackling laughter died instantly and instead he went over to a filing cabinet, from which he withdrew an official looking piece of parchment.

"Very well boy. I will deal with your application. Here fill this out", he said, shoving the piece of parchment over to Harry and nodding at a withered quill pen near Harry's side of the desk.

Harry took the form and filled out his personal details. He had to keep back a sigh when he reached the 'next of kin' details. He had no desire whatsoever to put his Aunt Petunia down, so instead he wrote in Hermione's details. After he had done it he stood staring at her name for a moment, wondering why he had put hers and not Ron's. He quickly filled in the rest of the form so that he could hand it back to the goblin.

"Your introduction pack will be with you within one to three working days, though you should allow for delays due to the owl - ruddy creatures. You will need to report on Monday morning to the Department Induction Centre on Level Two where you will receive further instructions."

"Ok, thanks", said Harry, hurrying to replace the quill and leave as quickly as possible.

Ten minutes later he was back in the atrium sitting on the side of the Fountain of Magical Brethren. He had thought about what else he had been intending to do in the ministry, but had come to the conclusion that it was unnecessary. He had already found a job, and if the Minister of Magic didn't care about his NEWTs he doubted anyone else would. He therefore decided to forego his visit to the Wizarding Exam Authority. He could talk over it with Dumbledore or Lupin when he next saw them – they would be able to tell him whether his lack of NEWTs would be any sort of a draw back.

The atrium was still extremely busy with many witches and wizards, magical beings and assorted oddities coming and going. Harry let them pass by as he thought about his meeting with the minister and his new job. It certainly sounded interesting, but already he could feel something in the pit of his stomach that was definitely the first sign of nerves. As he got up and walked to one of the apparition chambers he tried to push it down, thinking that he still had the weekend free before he would be back here. Then with a sudden realisation he welcomed in the nerves. He had realised that they were perfectly normal, human nerves, connected with a new stage in his life, rather than anything that had come before.

It seemed that Harry Potter wore a slight smile as he took the wand out of his pocket and sent himself back to Hermione's house. He left a flurrying of whisperings and mutterings in the entrance hall. Once again there was a whisper in the Wizarding World of 'the boy who lived'.