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Chapter Seven: A Change of Times"We do not always know our purpose. Only in the end do we sometimes get a glimpse of what our choices have ultimately done."
- Unknown
Rubbing sleep blearily from his eyes, Harry plodded down into the basement kitchen, the smell of bacon and eggs drifting up to meet him.
"Morning, sunshine!" Anna called brightly from the stove where she was cooking breakfast. "I decided to save us all; Sirius was thinking of making breakfast."
Harry's godfather glared at Anna. "I'm not that bad of a cook, Ann."
She smirked. "Sure you're not, Siri." But when Harry came to stand beside the brunette, she bent down and whispered in his ear, "Be thankful, Harry, that I know how to cook. I've heard enough horror stories from Remus about he and Sirius's bachelor days."
Harry chuckled softly and sat down across from Sirius with his breakfast. "So what's on the agenda today?"
"Well," the older man mused, "I was going to suggest we go for an early morning walk but it's not so much early morning as midday, so I guess that blows that idea."
Anna laughed as she sat down with her own plate. "Only because you two are lazy bums. Remus and I were up and about long before you two even rolled over in your sleep!"
Brushing this off, Sirius raised an eyebrow inquisitively. "Where is Moony?"
"Hogwarts," she answered. "Getting his Wolfsbane Potion. The full moon is next week."
"Ah," Sirius nodded. "Doesn't Snape usually bring it here?"
Anna smiled grimly, blowing on the surface of her tea. "Yes, Severus usually does bring the potion here for Remus, but it's getting more and more dangerous for him to be seen coming and going from Hogwarts when the Dark Lord hasn't called for him."
They nodded mutely.
"Well, what shall we do today, then?" Sirius said, breaking the silence.
"Well, Arthur is popping in for lunch."
"Mr Weasley?" Harry asked.
"Yeah," Anna answered, sipping delicately from her tea. "He Flooed about an hour before you two woke up, says he's got important news to tell us." Brandishing her wand, Anna sent their dishes into the sink. "And now I'm going to go upstairs, there are a few letters I need to write. I'll see you two gentlemen later.
Thirty minutes later, Anna was descending the stairs just as Arthur Weasley slipped quietly into the hall.
"Arthur!" she called brightly, hooking her arm with his. "How are you, old chap?"
The elder man chuckled. "Now, I may be twenty five years your senior, dear, but I certainly hope that doesn't make me 'old.'"
Anna laughed and playfully nudged the balding redhead on their way into the kitchen basement. "Twenty-five years my senior! Why, Arthur, you're positively over the hill!"
He laughed gaily in response as they entered the room. "Well, I certainly feel that old today, it was a long night last night."
Sirius scoffed from the table. "She hasn't been telling you that you're old, has she?" he asked, glaring at his fiancée. "She does it incessantly, horrible woman."
"Horrible?" Anna mused. "Well, that's not very nice."
Sirius smirked. "Absolutely. You're horrible, Anna. Impossible! Incorrigible! Irrefutably intolerable."
The witch pouted, her eyes widening and lip trembling pitiably. "Forgivable?"
Sirius laughed while Harry made retching noises behind his back. "It's possible, seeing as we are getting married and all. It would only do to keep up appearances. And you, squirt," he added over his shoulder at Harry, "I'd stop with that if I were you, unless you want me to spill the proverbial beans about your most current infatuation."
That shut him up.
"Yes, yes," Sirius leered, tapping his nose knowingly. "I know all about it, kid. Never try to fool me. Sirius Black, Master of Perception!"
Meanwhile, Mr Weasley was smiling merrily at Anna. "Married? You're getting married?"
She nodded sheepishly.
"Excellent!" Arthur exclaimed, throwing his hands wide in the air. "That's the most excellent news I've heard in a while. Molly will be simply delighted! She loves weddings," he explained, leaning forward in his chair. "She's always pushing for the boys to settle down." He chortled softly. "Seven children, five out of school, and not one married or even close to."
"So what brings you here Arthur," Sirius interjected. "Not that we don't enjoy your company or anything..."
Arthur sobered, placing his hands flat on the table before him. "Well, it's finally happened. The heads of each department of the Ministry and the Wizengamot were called together late last night, myself included, for an assembly to discuss the current running of the Ministry and the problems that the public seem to be having with it. We conferred, voted, and now there is a new Minster for Magic, or should I say Ministress of Magic."
Anna, Harry and Sirius, who all stood to attention, waited in bated breath.
Arthur, realising their apprehension and finding it seemingly amusing, resolved to drag out his speech for as long as humanly possible.
"I really shouldn't be telling you all this, it's classified information until the press conference this evening, but I've already told all the boys and owled Ron and Ginny, and I thought you'd prefer to hear it from me anyway – "
"Oh, for Merlin's sake, man! Tell us who the bloody Ministress is!" Sirius interrupted angrily.
Arthur laughed. "Don't worry," he assured, "it's not someone horrid like Dolores Umbridge."
"Dirty old cow," Anna muttered dejectedly, before Mr Weasley continued.
"But after much deliberation, in which I was surprised to hear myself nominated, Amelia Bones was given the top job."
Anna, Sirius and Harry each exhaled a relieved breath.
"So what's happening now?" Harry asked.
"Well, we're all getting jostled around; the whole Ministry's being rearranged.
"What about you, Arthur, you still in the same place?"
"Oh, yes, I'm still in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement," he told them, grinning. "But now, I'm Head of it."
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"Hermione! Hermione! HERMIONE!" came an ecstatic call, as two red blurs came pelting through the portrait hole, stopping mere inches before the comfy armchair where the studying girl sat.
Hermione soon found herself being lifted bodily from her chair and swung around in the circle of Ron's warm arms.
"Ron!" she spluttered. "What are you – "
Words lost all meaning as the bushy haired Gryffindor felt a large kiss being smacked on her forehead. Unbelievably, Hermione Granger, know-it-all bookworm never without a thing to say, was struck temporarily speechless.
Luckily, no intelligible oral communication was required at that moment as another redheaded body had been added to the embrace, culminating in a kind of ridiculous scrum-like hug with Hermione being excitedly bounced around by her two friends. Unfortunately, the girl's foot soon came into contact with the stack of heavy books that had been heaped haphazardly beside the chair, and the group stumbled to the ground in unison, with a rather large, exuberant Gryffindor prefect landing smack-bang on top of Hermione.
Oddly, Hermione thought it all rather pleasurable to be crushed by Ron's weight.
But eventually the boy had sheepishly rolled of her, and the warm, Quidditch-roughened hands that had pulled her up were now dug deep into the pockets of Ron's jumper.
"So," Hermione said breathlessly, flinging a stray curl over her shoulder, "anyone care to tell me what on Earth that was all about?"
"Yes!" Ginny squealed, thrusting a crumpled sheet of parchment under Hermione's nose. "Errol came with this just then."
Nodding, Hermione made quick work with the letter, her eyes widening with each sentence.
"Oh my! 'And so the Ministry has been totally rearranged and I have found myself in the unlikely position as Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement!' This is brilliant!"
"I know!" Ginny laughed, collapsing into the sofa. "Finally! After all that time and hard work, Dad is finally getting the sort of recognition he deserves."
Ron sunk into the chair beside Hermione, and she tentatively reached out to grasp his hand. "It's brilliant, isn't it Ron?"
He smiled a blazing smile at her. "Yeah, it really is."
"I couldn't think of anything more wonderful."
As soon as the words left her mouth, a beautiful Spectacled Owl flew through the open window, dropping an envelope in Hermione's lap and landing on the arm of her chair.
Recognising the owl, she reached out a hand to smooth down its feathers. "Hey, Helena, how're you?"
The owl hooted in answer, before taking off once more out the open window.
Splitting the envelope open, Hermione pulled out the parchment, her eyes alighting upon Anna's neat scrawl.
Dear Mia,
I hope this letter finds you in good health; I'd hate to think you're overworking yourself again. Pace yourself, dear! NEWTS are sixteen months away...
About this little boy problem you've encountered, certainly something we'll have to discuss over the holidays. Maybe you can convince your parents to come and stay at Grimmauld Place for Easter?
Speaking of Easter, there is something I would ask you to do for me, just a small favour, nothing to big.
Would you possibly, maybe, please-oh-pretty-please-with-a-cherry-on-top, consider to be my bridesmaid? I'll love you forever and ever and buy you pretty things!
And, on the plus side, we'll make you look absolutely drop-dead gorgeous (not that you aren't already) and perhaps a certain redhead will come to his thick-headed senses, hmm?
So what do you say, Mia, do you love me enough to put up with wearing a dress and makeup and having Molly fussing over your hair and helping me with invitations and seating arrangements? Any other bribery that I can tempt you with?
Waiting for your response (hopefully in the affirmative), Anna.
Placing the letter back in its envelope and into her book bag, Hermione felt a delighted grin slide onto her face.
And for once, the witch finally decided to forego all predispositions of dignity and pride and allowed a girlish shriek of glee escape her lips. "She's getting married!"
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It was well past one in the morning when Anna woke up to an empty bed, and worryingly trudged downstairs to find her missing fiancé.
Stumbling into the lounge, she found him broodingly staring out into the night through the slightly open window.
"Mmm. Sirius," she mumbled, pressing her face into his bare shoulder. "Come back to bed so I can have my wicked way with you."
Sirius sighed heavily, turning slightly to place a quick peck on the tip of Anna's nose. "I'm just thinking."
"To much thinking!" she slurred. "Not enough doing!"
He chortled softly, pulling her arms around his chest so she was spooned against him. "Brazen little minx, aren't you, Nightingale?"
She laughed, her voice muffled by Sirius's shoulder. "I've had nine months of vile deprivation to deal with. It was positively ghastly, Siri. I don't know how I lived without you."
"So is that all you want me for?" he scoffed. "My body?"
"Well," she conceded, running her fingertips lightly down his chest. "It is a rather delectable body, but I don't entirely mind the personality that comes with it." Resting her chin by Sirius's neck, she gave a small smile. "Actually, I think I've become quite attached."
They stood in silence for a while, each comfortably lost in their own thoughts.
"So what were you thinking about?" Anna asked eventually, all traces of jest gone from her voice.
He sighed again. "I was just thinking... remember when we were sitting in here, and you promised me that we'd buy a big house somewhere for Harry?"
She nodded.
"Well, I was just thinking, we should do it. We should wait till Harry goes back to school and buy a house in secret, somewhere in the country. And we should do it up without telling him and then give him a big surprise. Like, 'Here you go, Harry, have a house and a family to go with it.'"
"It's a beautiful idea, Sirius. We should do it."
"We will."
"Now, let's go back to bed, Black, I'm bloody cold."
He nodded. "I love you."
"Well, good," she giggled, giving him a smacking kiss on the cheek. "Because I'm not going anywhere."
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A/N: Yes, yes, I realise it's been a while since I updated, but it wasn't my fault. Really! I kept being attacked by rabid plot bunnies and my fingers couldn't decide who it was they wanted to write about. All very confusing.
Yes, Ministress is a word. Microsoft Word doesn't seem to agree with me, but Webster's Online Dictionary does and I trust it implicitly. So there you go.
Please review, I need some motivation to concentrate on this rather than writing beginning paragraph after beginning paragraph of random one-shots that never seem to end! Guilt-trip me! (But in a nice way....)
