Chapter Title: Prologue: Just Another Day in the Office
Characters:
Genres:
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: HBP Spoiler
Summary: Why hasn't Voldemort's death given Harry the peace and happiness he so desires? Harry is now Head Auror. His primary responsibilities: paperwork, chasing petty criminals, fighting with the minister, keeping Fred and George out of trouble, and helping find a new DADA teacher for Hogwarts every year. But change is inevitable when your name is Harry Potter.
"Just another day in the office eh Harry?"
"Very funny. I don't even remember the last time I had so much as an hour at the office," replied Harry, knocking over a meter high pile of parchment. "I don't think I'll ever finish all of this paperwork."
"You could always ask for Rita's help; I'm sure she could manage a few dramatic descriptions of your cases. It might make them halfway interesting to read. To be honest Harry, I'd be surprised if anyone ever looks at them."
"Come on Hermione, we both know that's not true."
"What do you mean," Hermione responded tartly, blushing slightly.
Harry shook his head and smiled admiringly. "You really can't help yourself can you?"
"Oh come on Harry, I'm not that obvious," she paused looking away from his penetrating green stare. "Okay maybe I am. They're not that boring actually. That one last week about the—"
"Oh yes they are Hermione and we should be grateful for that. Dull news is good news coming from this department. I'm just glad we've finally made a habit of it." Harry turned to his catastrophe of a desk and began shuffling papers and writing notes in an aimless attempt at improving the mess.
The paperwork aside, Harry James Potter had never looked more in his element. If he had allowed them to, the Minister's communications office would certainly have made Harry their own personal poster-child. That same messy hair that still made the girls swoon, also gave him an aura of hard work and determination. Surely a man such as this was constantly hard at work defending against evil.
"You'd think the most productive Auror the ministry has ever had would get a bigger office."
"I have the biggest office in the department Hermione," Harry called desperately from behind a stack of backlogged case files. "After all the expansions that were done during the war we couldn't possibly get any bigger, not even magically. You know, he'd never say so publicly but Arthur's told me they've really started to get some dimensional interference over at Counterfeit Spells and Objects."
"I know, he's told me a number of times too. Just last week while I was over for dinner he mentioned that his new deputy went and splinched himself when he tried to apparate into the office. Both of his arms ended up on Tonks' desk."
"How did I not hear about that?" Harry asked, without looking up from his illegible scribbling.
"Because Arthur pulled some strings and smoothed the whole thing over. You know any apparation accident within the first year of a provisional license is subject to review and suspension. Besides, Arthur figures it wasn't his fault anyway. Tonks got moved down the hall a bit when we added those last few offices. I guess we've been pushing up against Arthur's department a little too hard."
"Well, maybe he should push back."
"What do you mean, 'push back'?"
"Come on, you know the minister isn't going to downsize this department without a fight. If people start hearing about this sort of thing he might have to consider it."
"Do you really think we should? I mean—"
"Hermione, the department of Aurors is twice the size it was when Scrimgeour took over and that was back when Voldemort was still on the loose. Most of this staff is out there busting doxy farmers and harassing the goblins at Gringotts. You could eliminate half of the departments at the ministry for all the stuff they keep throwing our way to keep us busy."
"Is that so?" Hermione mused skeptically scanning Harry's mess.
"What?"
"Oh nothing."
"Spill it Hermione."
"Nothing, I suppose you're right actually. It makes sense, now that I think about it. It's just that, if that's the case then maybe…" her voice trailed off as she picked up the hastily written case review Harry had just scribbled down, scanning it perfunctorily.
"Okay, okay, I get it," Harry replied snatching back the parchment. "I'll start cutting back on my caseload. Ginny's been after me anyway."
"Well I should think so, you must be working near a hundred hours a week some weeks."
"Hang on a minute. What time is it?"
"Half past seven. Why? You don't—" Hermione leapt out of the way as Harry tumbled through the newly made opening in the piles on his desk, grabbing his cloak and throwing it around himself upside-down on his way to the fireplace.
"I almost forgot, Ginny and I are meeting for dinner tonight."
"Ooh, where are you going?"
"She won't tell me. All I know is that we're meeting in Diagon Alley at 8. I don't know why, but she insisted on Muggle clothes. It's like it's some sort of surprise or something. I honestly don't know what she's up to," Harry sputtered hastily as he fastened his cloak with one hand while taking a generous handful of floo powder in the other.
"Could it be because today's your birthday?"
"What?" Harry stammered looking incredulously at her and then slapped his hand to his forehead.
"Oh Harry, only you could manage to forget your own birthday."
"Hey, there are 12 very good reasons for that and I don't like to talk about it," Harry shot back sarcastically.
"Okay, okay, I'm sorry I said anything," Hermione grinned, "but if you don't want to have a 13th reason you'd better put some of that floo powder back, unless you're planning on traveling to Jupiter tonight."
"Right." Harry threw half of the powder back toward the jar on the mantle (most of it falling onto the floor) and stepped back into the fireplace. "I'll see you tomorrow."
"As always. Shall I lock up then?" she asked as she waved her wand, sending the fallen powder to its rightful place.
"Thanks a bunch Hermione."
"Don't mention it. Say hi to Ginny for me."
"And you to Ron."
Hermione watched admiringly as Harry bellowed "Number Seven Godric Lane" and spun out of sight.