Harry stepped through the Floo first despite his concern Hermione wouldn't follow. The ten seconds after felt like hours until she stepped into the ornate sitting room next to him. The Ministry held as much bad blood for him as it still held for Hermione. He avoided it whenever he possibly could, opting for the direct line to the Minister when meetings were necessary.

Kingsley Shacklebolt was not surprised by Harry breezing into his home office, and if he was by Hermione, he didn't show it.

"I wondered when you would be coming. Somehow I have a feeling this may have something to do with your visit." A month-old Prophet skid across the desk, headline blazing about the fight in Diagon Alley. Thankfully, very few details emerged of the incident, leaving the article blissfully short.

"How did you know I was involved?" Harry huffed and dropped into his usual chair.

"When you went MIA soon after, I assumed. Plus it had a certain Potter flare to it." Kingsley steepled his fingers and leaned forward on his desk. "Doesn't help that Molly Weasley has stormed into my office every day for a week demanding a team of Aurors be assigned to track you down." Harry winced at the accusation. Of course, Molly sent the cavalry when he went missing.

When the Minister asked about tea, Harry was astounded that Hermione volunteered to do it. Even before, he wouldn't dream of sending her to fetch the tea service. Now he imagined death by various painful methods for the assumption. But she walked out the room without a glance back, leaving Harry to tell the Minister about the incident at Diagon Alley.

He finished with the apparition to his flat when she reappeared, for which he was extremely grateful. The rest of the story was hers to tell, and he didn't want to shatter their precarious balance by oversharing with the Minister. She set the tray of tea on the desk, dispersing cups and saucers to each of them before settling into the chair next to Harry. Adding a single sugar cube to her own cup, her eyes remained transfixed on Kingsley while he sipped the tea. A displeased look crossed the Minister's face as he set the teacup down again, smacking his lips in disgust.

"That doesn't taste quite right," he muttered to himself, politely dabbing his mouth with the napkin. "The leaves must be old."

"More likely the potion I slipped you," Hermione replied coolly, examining him with careful calculation.

The Minister blanched as the weight of her statement impacted him, but the horrified look Harry gave her didn't escape her notice.

"You what?" Harry hissed suddenly wary of his own tea cup.

"What?" she spat out. "Trust me, if I wanted you dead, Minister, you'd be dead. Just a little Veritaserum. I told you, Harry, the old rules are back in play. I don't know if I can trust him yet. And you certainly shouldn't have let me carry that tray if you didn't trust me, Minister." The title sounded like an insult in her mocking tone.

Wide eyed, Harry turned back to his mentor the beginning of many apologies begging to be free, but the Minister simply shook his head almost amused. Kingsley gave her an appraising look, quite impressed. Slipping the Minister of Magic a potion completely undetected certainly was a feat. To do it in his own home was downright brazen. In a calculated move, he raised the cup to his lips again, taking a long sip and maintaining eye contact, rising to the challenge. Harry released a sigh, relieved that he wouldn't have to arrest his long lost best friend for one of the handful of crimes she had just committed.

"I have nothing to hide," he told her plainly. "But I would like to know how you got your hands on Veritaserum. We're rather discerning with those ingredients."

A feral grin split her face, a spark flashing in her eyes. She tutted at him, clearly enjoying the upper hand. "I'm the one asking questions right now. If I like your answers, perhaps I'll tell you."

He waved her to continue. "Ask your questions, Miss Granger."

The next thirty minutes were nothing short of an interrogation. A rather impressively thorough one at that. She asked about his rise to Minister, the post-war Ministry policies, his connection with Sarah Harold, what he knew of The New Order Rising, and perhaps most importantly, his travel history to America. And once she was satisfied with his answers, she told her own abridged history. Back straight and attention focused, she reported in a cold, level voice, distancing herself from the account. Harry watched in awe at the change from interrogator to soldier in the blink of an eye. Most Aurors were less respectful in their reports to the Minister, and she had dosed him not an hour prior. The change was disorienting.

"You asked me about Sarah Harold," Kingsley pointed out once she finished reporting. "Why?"

"She's an agent of the New Order. We were in training together."

Kingsley sucked in a breath through his teeth, fist clenching around the desk edge. "How did we miss this during her vetting process? Our background runs are thorough, I assure you."

"Because her real name isn't Sarah Harold," Hermione explained, pouring another cup of tea for herself now completely at ease in the Minister's presence. At least she appeared to be. "It's Mary Beth Allen. Born and raised in the US. I assume she took the identity of someone once she arrived."

Kingsley thought over the information, startled to see cracks in the new regime this early. "What should we do about her?"

"If it were my operation, I'd keep her close. See who she's talking with, what she may pass along. Watch for her to slip up. Perhaps plant misinformation, even. Plus, I could really use her." She stirred the sugar cube into her tea as she contemplated how much she should disclose. Sensing the trepidation, Harry caught hold of her wrist, giving it a reassuring squeeze. With a nod, she decided to continue. "We were… close. As close as you can be, at least in training classes. Always numbers one and two fighting for the top spot. I haven't seen her since training, though. She was sent to espionage and intelligence, and I was sent to research. I may be able to get some useful information before we burn her."

"Done," Kingsley consented without the slightest hesitation. "And consider this your operation to run. I'll keep the two of you in the loop on anything we find out." With a simple wave, an Auror's shield badge materialized on the desk, her name already engraved across the top. "You'll have to come by tomorrow to get Auror robes but for now, this will give you the proper authority you'll need."

The fire glinted off the shined metal, a reminder of the horrors she'd committed and the ones she'd still have to do. Her fists clenched in her lap, refusing to touch the badge as if it may burn her.

"Minster, you don't seem to understand," she started slowly, as if explaining to a child who didn't know why they couldn't touch a hot stove. "The things I've done. The things I will likely still have to do. The Ministry would not condone them, and that's putting it kindly."

"I do understand, Miss Granger. Very well. If everything you've said is true, and I have no doubt that it is, then we are on the cusp of another war. One we are woefully unprepared for. As you've already said, rules change during war. You have the support of the Ministry in whatever you do. You've proven you deserve that multiple times over."

Mentions of the previous war set her teeth on edge, the memories still fresh in her nightmares. As claustrophobia pressed in, Hermione paced the space behind her chair. If she kept moving, the room couldn't close in around her.

"And what does the Ministry expect in return for this support?" she bit out. "I will not be some errand girl you send out to do your bidding. I do not and will never work for the Ministry."

To his credit, Kingsley didn't flinch at her reaction; he merely shook his head. "And I never thought as such. The badge simply gives you the authority the Ministry provides. You work for yourself with all the resources of the Ministry to help. Same as Harry."

The statement stopped her cold. Same as Harry. Her eyes pierced into Harry's, demanding an explanation. No badge or Ministry authority had been mentioned when he told her about occasionally rounding up stray Death Eaters. Nothing that official. Unwarranted, her mind flitted back through the conversation they had about the Academy and the Post. Had that been why he was so insistent on knowing more, making her tell him, decoding her notes? Was he gathering evidence? He knew of a great many illegal and horrible things she had done there. Had it been a tactic to gain information to use against her? He could have arrested her - probably should have, if she was honest. But Harry gave no indication he was betraying the badge by not, made no protest now as the Minister tried to hand her one of her own and give her complete access. Keys to the proverbial kingdom. Harry trusted her more than she originally realized. Hermione wasn't sure if she should feel more confident with his trust, or worried at his naivety.

"Hermione-" Kingsley laid a hand on her shoulder to draw her attention back. A terrible mistake. Old habits had her taking his wrist and spinning until he was confined, hands behind his back. Harry winced as the Minister's face made a rather grotesque thud against the wall.

"Might should have warned you she's jumpy, sir," Harry offered far too late. Realizing what she'd done, Hermione released him and returned to pacing, not bashful in the slightest.

"Yes, after the story you told me, I should have expected that." The Minister moved back to his seat, rubbing at his tender shoulder. He attempted a facade of control, but awareness crept in as he watched Hermione pace. Despite the war, she had still been just a girl when she left. Now, Kingsley could only see a soldier in front of him. One he was developing a cautious respect for. "I do hope once this is all over you'll reconsider a spot at the Auror's office, teaching new recruits perhaps."

Even thinking about teaching others her skills again knotted her stomach, reminded her of fatal spells training and weaponry practice. No one should have ever taught them to her, and she had no plans to further that cycle.

"I told you, I don't work for the Ministry. After all this is done, you get that badge back. You don't want me teaching them the things I know." She expected Harry to tell him as much, the handprints on his throat still vivid in her mind, but to her surprise, he sat quietly, sipping his tea as he watched the exchange.

"For now, what can the Ministry do to help you?"

"Information." Hermione detailed a list to Kingley's Quick Quotes Quill of all the information that could be useful. Every document on Sarah Harold, all portkeys authorized in and out of the United States, and any type of reference to The New Order Rising. After a detailed explanation of how to send the documents without being traced, Harry and Hermione turned again to leave just as the Minister's wife returned home.

With a toss of the Floo powder, Harry announced his own residence and stepped through the green flames. As Hermione reached for the jar, Kingsley cleared his throat, the Auror badge levitating near her shoulder.

"Your badge, Miss Granger," he said, leaving no arguement of whether she would take it.

She held it far from her body, still very skeptical about being under the Ministry's thumb. "I don't have to wear it, do I?"

Kingsley chuckled at her resistance. "No., I can't imagine flashing it all over the place would help you much. It's merely for you to use when convenient or needed. I'll send the files over as soon as possible on Sarah Harold and her team." When he grabbed her shoulder this time, Hermione hardly flinched. "Do what you must."

With a final nod, he released his hold and summoned the Floo powder for her. She breezed her way straight from the fireplace into Harry's kitchen, summoning a bottle of Firewhiskey as she went. With an exasperated sigh, he followed her. The Prophet photo once again caught her eye as she sat at the table sipping her drink. Things were worse than she suspected.

"Hermione," Harry started, taking the seat across from her, but she held up a hand to stop him.

"Don't. I know what you're going to say. I shouldn't have done that without telling you first, but I didn't think you two would make it that easy to do."

"I was going to say you shouldn't have done it at all."

That she didn't have any response to. She had asked for his most trusted source at the Ministry then drugged the Minister of Magic in front of a semi-Auror. But some things couldn't be entrusted to just anyone. Too much was at stake to play niceties and politics.

"You didn't mention the badge," she muttered distractedly, taking another sip of whiskey.

"I barely ever have it. Only ever carried it when I traveled." What he was traveling for was understood: when he was looking for her. He carried and used his badge in his searches. "I honestly didn't even think to grab it before we left the flat. Probably should dig it out of the bottom drawer."

Hermione stared into the amber liquid as she swirled it thoughtfully in her glass. Her mind was processing almost too quickly to keep pace. "You didn't tell the Minister about everything I've done, either."

"He didn't need to know," Harry assured her, pulling their forgotten lunch from the refrigerator.

"You could have arrested me for any number of the things I've told you."

"What for?" he scoffed, dumping the food onto a plate and placing it in the microwave. "For doing what you had to in order to survive? It's war, Hermione. If we arrested people for what they did during the war, we all would be behind bars, myself included. I don't see where you've done anything wrong."

Silence settled between them, leaving them to their own thoughts only to be interrupted by the beeping of the microwave. The noise almost made her laugh. Harry always had a preference for Muggle solutions, always forgetting about spells if there was a Muggle way. Always forgetting he had powerful magic at his fingertips.

"So this Sarah girl," he started, desperate for any scrap of information he could pull from her. "You trained with her?"

"Yup."

"And that's all you're gonna say about it?"

"Yup," she clipped out and drained her glass, ending that topic of conversation.

Harry nodded in resignation. After the day with the Minister, he wasn't about to test his luck by pressing further. The potions she kept likely didn't end with just Veratiserum.

"Let's just finish that curry and get some sleep, yeah? It's been a long day." He passed the rewarmed plate of food to her before tucking into his own. The silence of the flat pressed in again as they ate.

Hermione didn't mention going back to the safe house for the night, and he wasn't going to bring it up, hoping Kingsley took his time getting the files sent over. It was nice being home. After another awkward hour of watching the evening news, Harry showed her to the guest room to turn in for the night.

"Sorry" he muttered, picking up toys as they walked through. "This is Teddy's room when he stays with me and let's just say we're still working on cleaning up after ourselves."

"I don't want to take his room. I can sleep on the couch."

"No, it's a guest room. You're a guest. Just hope you don't mind Mr. Snuggles," he said, holding up a stuffed lion.

She took the plushy, fingering a seam of the well-loved toy. The memory of helping Harry select it stung at the back of her eyes.

"He liked it then?"

"Loved it. You were right when you picked it. Had to get a second one to keep at Andromeda's. He can't sleep without it."

Hermione dropped to the bed, skimming the room. Teddy's little presence filled every corner. It was his room no matter what Harry said. A toy broom was propped up in the corner. Magic and Muggle toys littered the floor, and her lips quirked up as she spotted a half-complete Lego set. A tiny Chudley Cannons jersey was tossed haphazardly over a chair. She pulled the toy tightly against her chest, reminding herself of what she was fighting so hard to protect.