Chapter 18

The Seventh Level

Harry had walked about fifty yards when he stopped and turned around. What an incredible coincidence, walking aimlessly through Muggle London, and ending up at the entrance to the Ministry! He could see the telephone box still ... Would they be using the same number now as they had ... back then?

He started walking slowly back to the entrance. There wouldn't be a lot of people there today; it was Saturday, after all. Ginny wouldn't be there. She'd be at home – with Colin. It wouldn't hurt him if he tried. He could dial the number and not say anything ...

He walked determinedly towards the telephone box, went inside, and closed the door. Six – two – four – four – two ... Yes, it was the right number; just like then, Harry was asked to state his name and business.

'Harry Evans, er ... just taking a look around,' Harry stammered hesitantly. A square silver badge with 'Harry Evans, sightseeing' on it appeared in the metal chute just as Harry had expected. Before the telephone-box floor began to sink into the ground, however, the cool female voice went on talking and said, 'Visitor to the Ministry, you are required to submit to a search and present your wand for registration at the security desk, which is located at the far end of the Atrium.'

Present his wand – Harry had forgotten about that. What if they realised that he was using Harry Potter's wand? That would seem rather suspicious. Well, it was too late to do anything about it now. If anyone suspected something, he'd have to make up an excuse – he was getting quite good at that, Harry mused, thinking of his date with Pansy – and Hagrid or Tonks would probably back him up.

The telephone box came to a halt, the door sprang open, and Harry stepped out into the Atrium. He hadn't been here since before the Defeat, and he looked around interestedly. Where the Fountain of Magical Brethren had once stood, there was now an enormous, golden statue. Harry couldn't see exactly what it portrayed, so he walked closer.

He stopped in front of it, looking up at the unnaturally large and triumphant-looking face of Ludo Bagman, the Minister for Magic. He looked much younger than he had done fifteen years ago, when Harry had last met him, and he was wearing his Wimbourne Wasps Quidditch robes and holding a Beater's bat. Surrounding the statue of Bagman was a group of smaller statues, portraying ordinary witches and wizards who were looking up at Bagman in awe and admiration.

Harry snorted contemptuously. Bagman had really gone over the top with this one. This statue didn't seem much better than the Fountain of Magical Brethren to Harry. The fountain had represented something that wasn't true – so did this. From what he had heard so far, Bagman was far from an ideal Minister for Magic ... yet it didn't seem like people questioned him, otherwise they wouldn't have let him place this hideous statue in such a central place in the Wizarding World.

Harry turned his back on the statue and went over to the security desk to present his wand for registration. The security witch gave him a bored look as she took his wand, then simply confirmed that it was eleven inches with a phoenix feather core and had been in use for twenty-one years. When Harry nodded, she handed the wand back to him, still looking bored, and picked up a copy of the Daily Prophet and started reading.

Feeling relieved, Harry quickly walked through the golden gates that led to the lifts, stepping into one of them right before the golden grilles closed. He was alone in the lift – unless you counted one single paper airplane as company – and as it started moving, he wondered what he should do now that he was here. Where was he going? Suddenly, the cool voice from the telephone box spoke again. 'Level Seven, Department of Magical Games and Sports ...' Harry didn't hear the rest of the announcement. His heart was racing, but he wasn't going to get out here. Definitely not.

The lift doors opened, and Harry remained firmly planted where he was. But then, right before the doors closed, he stepped out of the lift. There was no point in pretending – he had known he would do it all along. This must have been what Luna had seen in the Orb; him at the Ministry of Magic. That was why she had been so unwilling to tell him about her premonition. He walked down the corridor, which looked tidier than it had last time he had seen it.

Then he reached the door he had been looking for. 'Ginevra Creevey, Head of Department,' read a sign on it. Harry remained standing in front of the door, paralysed. Ginny's office. This was where she worked. Every day, she came here. He leaned against the wall, feeling almost dizzy at the thought of standing somewhere where Ginny had probably been only yesterday. Thankfully, she wouldn't be here today. He took a deep breath, trying to calm down.

Without warning, the door in front of him suddenly flew open.

'Oh, hello.' It was Ginny. Harry noticed that one of his legs was shaking. Ginny. She was ... beautiful. It did show that she was older; she looked more mature, more serious than the happy Ginny he had known back then. But she was still beautiful. She stopped as she saw him. 'Is there anything I can do for you?'

Harry stared at her, utterly speechless. What was she doing here on a Saturday? No, this wasn't supposed to be happening! He wasn't supposed to meet her. Ginny simply stood there, looking at him quizzically, obviously not recognising him. She was completely unaware that she was standing in front of her former boyfriend whom she had believed dead for fifteen years.

'Er ...' said Harry. But then he realised that he had to pull himself together; if he kept staring at Ginny like this she might begin to suspect something. So far, there was really no harm done, except to his own feelings, but under no circumstances must Ginny find out who he really was. 'Er ... I ... er ...' he paused. 'I recognised your name on the door ...' he stammered. 'I didn't think you'd be here ... I'm Henry Evans, Ron's new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.'

'Oh, Professor Evans!' Ginny exclaimed. 'I had an owl from Ron this morning telling me about your first class. He was very enthusiastic. Please come in – I was just going to make myself a cup of tea.'

'Er ... no, I'd better not ... I have to ... er ...' Harry swallowed, staring at Ginny's beautiful red hair. He suddenly had a feeling of complete unreality. Here he was with Ginny, talking to her as though she were a complete stranger, when once she had been the most important person in the world to him. Here she was, actually standing right before him, when only a few days ago he had believed her dead. He tried, desperately, to think of something to say, but words failed him and all he could do was to produce some incoherent stuttering.

'Oh, but please do!' Ginny interrupted him. 'Our sons are such good friends. I won't keep you long, I promise.'

'Well ...' Harry knew that he shouldn't do it, but he was already on his way into the office. Ginny indicated that he should take a seat and Harry sat down on a rather comfortable armchair.

'The European Championships will be held here next summer,' Ginny said as she conjured up some tea and biscuits and took a seat opposite Harry. 'We only just found out; Moldavia was supposed to host the tournament but there was a big scandal at their Ministry, and we offered to take over instead ...' Ginny looked rather harassed as she said this; it was obvious that the decision hadn't been hers, but probably an overenthusiastic Ludo Bagman's. 'So that's why I'm here on a Saturday,' she finished.

Harry looked at her desk, having calmed down a bit. He would only stay for a few minutes. He would make meaningless small talk, and then he would leave. Ginny would never find out that he was alive. Or would she? Would Ginny recognise him sooner or later, even if he tried to deceive her the way he had Pansy only an hour ago?

There were several photographs on Ginny's desk, most of them portraying Ron and two younger, similar-looking boys in different locations, and one with another face he recognised: Colin Creevey. He was smiling, looking annoyingly happy, holding a camera in his hand. Colin, Ginny's husband. Harry could feel himself shaking again. He looked away quickly, but Ginny had already noticed what he was looking at.

'That's my husband, Colin, and my two younger boys. They'll be coming to Hogwarts too in a few years. I do hope you'll be staying on as Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. It's been decades since anyone stayed for more than a year. We're all so pleased that Hagrid's finally found someone good for the post.'

'Oh, well it's a pleasure working at Hogwarts,' said Harry, surprised at the calm sound of his voice.

'Yes, I'm sure it must be. When were you at Hogwarts yourself?'

Harry hesitated. Perhaps he should tell Ginny that he hadn't gone to Hogwarts at all? But no, John might already have told Ron that he had. 'I left in 1997,' he said, looking scrutinisingly at Ginny. Would she recognise him now?

'Oh, I left in 1998,' she said, smiling at him. She didn't seem to realise who he was at all. 'You must have been in another House, though, because I don't recognise you.'

'I was in Gryffindor,' said Harry. The words were out of his mouth before he could stop himself, and again, he didn't know why he said it. Just as he hadn't known why he had lied to Pansy, he didn't know why he was telling Ginny the truth. He must be mad. Now Ginny was bound to recognise him.

But Ginny simply looked at him, a puzzled expression on her face. 'But that's impossible,' she said. 'My brother Ron was in Gryffindor that year, and there were only four other boys in our House – Neville Longbottom, Seamus Finnigan, Dean Thomas and Harry Potter. You must be mistaken.'

Was it Harry's imagination, or did Ginny's voice shake slightly when she said his name?

There was a pause, and then Harry said, steadily,'No, I'm not.' Now. She had to realise now.

But Ginny just looked at him, shaking her head slightly. How could she, of all people, not recognise him after he had given almost everything away? Hagrid, Tonks and Luna had recognised him almost immediately. So how come Ginny, who had loved him once, didn't?

Harry knew that he ought to take back what he had said, tell her that he had made a mistake, that he had left another year, been in another House, anything. But he simply couldn't. Instead, he said the one thing that he had been repeating in his mind from the moment he had stepped into this office, over and over again,

'Ginny, it's me. Harry.'

Author's Note: Thank you so much for your reviews – valentineshater, Larna Mandrea, Artemis 1860, Ezmerelda, Jeanne2, Dius Corvus, Randi Weasley, Me, risi, Ava, alecatq, Adenara Yatman, Katkit and Enclave. I appreciate your feedback very much.

Larna Mandrea: Sorry, I just couldn't drag it out any more! There's still a lot to come in this story and it was time for Harry and Ginny to meet now. I hope you liked it anyway.

Jeanne2 & Dius Corvus & all those of you who asked about or commented on Snape: Hehe, I'm glad I've succeeded! evil grin It will take a while before you find out whose side Snape is really on.

Randi Weasley: You're asking some really good questions here, which I'm not going to answer ... yet! ;)

Ezmerelda: You'll get to meet Colin in a few chapters' time.