Chapter Twenty: Minutes at the Ministry

As Daphne had predicted she was called to the Ministry within the next day. Professor Flitwick had been excitedly telling Draco that his cloning charm was above average when the door was opened and Professor McGonagall strode in to collect Daphne. Muttering followed her out of the classroom, but she ignored it and followed McGonagall, who had already collected Neville and Susan, into her office where they met Kingsley Shacklebolt and another auror Daphne hadn't met, the pink-haired Nymphadora Tonks — though she had the funny feeling that Tonks had met her before judging but the way the young auror looked at her.

"Madam Bones and I will be conducting the interviews," Shacklebolt explained in his calm voice once they had reached the auror office and had been shown into a small office, away from the prying eyes of the other aurors, hit wizards, and Magical Law Enforcement officers. Law Enforcement were, by their nature, a nosy bunch.

The office they had been shown into was spacious, with a large oak desk facing the door and a set of comfortable chairs, laden with all types of cushioning charms. Daphne, who had faced far worse interrogations at the hand of her mother growing up, was relatively relaxed in her chair. Neville and Susan on the other hand seemed petrified with fright, Neville had gone very white and Susan was playing with her hair so frantically that she was in danger of pulling bits of it out.

"Of course, Susan, I will be leading your interview with Auror Tonks." Shacklebolt continued, "given that your aunt launched this investigation based on your coming forward, we thought it best that I be the one to talk to you."

"Yes, alright," Susan managed, though she looked as though this was the exact opposite of what she wanted.

"You'll be alright," he assured her, calmly. "It's just a matter of sitting down and telling us exactly what happened. We've already interviewed Madam Umbridge, so it's simply a case of confirming your side of the story. Now, Neville, we've got you lined up first. Susan, Daphne, Auror Tonks will be just outside."

Shacklebolt guided the rather apprehensive Neville out of the door and down to a corridor to the right of the office towards what Daphne presumed were the interrogation rooms. Witness statements could normally be gathered at home, not in the Ministry, but given who they were dealing with no doubt the Auror Office had decided that everything had to be dealt with personally by them.

Susan was still fidgeting for a few minutes after Neville had left, while Daphne was staring blankly at the far wall. It was funny, a few months ago she would never have even dreamed she'd end up in the Ministry, let alone be there because she was defending Harry — by way of her own self-sacrifice. Her hand, much like Neville and Susan's, had healed without injury. Though Madam Pomfrey would be livid if she didn't show up to be examined later that day.

"It'll be fine," Daphne said eventually, in a bid to try and at least calm the poor girl down a bit. "They're just asking us to tell them what happened."

"And what if they ask about the DA?" Susan had gone almost as white as Neville by this point. "I mean, it's still banned, isn't it? They could kick us out of school."

"Dumbledore wants it to carry on, don't worry. Fudge won't kick us out because of something Umbridge put in place now. Just tell the truth, that's all we've got to do."

That seemed to calm Susan down, but not much. There was still fidgeting and still, Daphne knew, the ball of anxiety building up inside her. She couldn't blame her, the same ball was bouncing round in her own stomach. Just hers was a lot smaller. They fell into the kind of silence that people waiting to see figures of authority always fell into, Daphne kept staring at the wall and tried her best to ignore Susan. Not because she didn't want to help the poor girl, but because it was putting her on edge.

Before long Neville returned, relief gushing off him like steam. He gave them a quick wave before being shown out by Shacklebolt, who returned minutes later. It was Daphne's turn. His tone was calm and professional and he kept reeling off the usual neutral phrases. She ignored them. The thing about "it's all going to be fine" or "don't worry, it'll all be over soon" is it does nothing to calm anyone down, it draws attention to their anxiety.

The interview room was drab and unsurprisingly bleak. A table and three chairs sat at the centre of the room, the end of the table set against the cool stone wall. Daphne's solitary chair sat nearest the door, so that she would have to crane her neck to see if anyone came in while Madam Bones and Shacklebolt would be able to glance up with ease. Madam Bones was waiting for them, her glasses sitting at the edge of her nose and a large, thick file held her hand. She didn't look up, but continued reading, letting Shacklebolt continue to dispense pleasantries.

A piece of parchment complete with a quoting quill hovered ready in one corner, inert but ready to spring to life.

"Auror Shacklebolt returns with Daphne Greengrass," Madam Bones said, once Daphne had settled in her chair. The quill began scribbling down their words, scratching away on the parchment. "Madam Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement is present. Interview of Daphne Louise Greengrass commencing at," she checked her watch, "11:54. Daphne, would you like some water?"

"No, I'm alright, thank you."

"You were present the night Madam Umbridge was arrested, correct?" Shacklebolt asked, more scribbling from the corner. It was very distracting, but Daphne supposed that was the point. Plenty of silencing charms could have kept the room free of its noise, yet hours of interrogation would be made much worse by the continued, agonising noise.

"Correct, I was in detention."

"And what were you in detention for?"

"Madam Umbridge wanted me to stop being friends with Harry Potter," there was the almost imperceptible shudder from Madam Bones. Shacklebolt remained as cool as ever, like the surface of a lake on a windless day. "I refused. Professor Umbridge didn't take too kindly to that."

"And how long have you known, Mr Potter?" Shacklebolt asked.

"Technically the last five years, but we've been friends since October. He wanted to set up a Defence class because we weren't learning anything at school."

"And he was to be your teacher." This was not a question, no doubt Neville had already given them the answers they wanted. They were just looking for confirmation.

"Yes."

"Had Madam Umbridge ever expressed any feelings about your relationship with Mr Potter?" asked Madam Bones.

"She turned up at my house at Christmas and accused me of sleeping with him," there was no sense in hiding that particular fact, it would just be another nail in the bitch's coffin. "I had been at the Hospital Wing just before going home. So yes, to answer your question, Professor Umbridge had told me to stop being friends with Harry before."

"And would you please describe what happened in your detentions?"

So that's exactly what Daphne did, she told them about the quill and the botched Veritaserum use. They, in turn, let her know that they had found vials of the truth serum in her desk and that the quill in question had been outlawed for over a hundred years and that they were currently in the process of identifying where she had got the quill in the first place.

"And was your detention the first that you were aware of Dolores Umbridge's actions?" Madam Bones asked, seemingly careful to avoid the use of the word 'torture' or 'abuse', no doubt Auror training was very specific on the use of trigger words and how they could affect witnesses.

"No," this was the part of the story that Daphne had not wanted to tell prior to seeing Dumbledore. But if the famed wizard had told her to say, then she was sure the news had made its way to Neville and Susan and there was no use in lying to the Aurors if they hadn't. "Harry was the first person she used it on, around October, I only became aware of it a couple of months later. I saw the scars on his hand."

"And what did they say?"

"I must not tell lies," Daphne told them, trying and failing to keep her voice level as she did so. The memory of seeing those scars for the first time still made her blood boil. Madam Bones' jaw clenched and for the first time Shacklebolt looked as though he was feeling something close to genuine human emotion.

"Yeah, and that's why I said something to her. I hoped she'd put me in detention, along with Neville and Susan, so that we could make sure that the Auror office became aware of what she was doing without disregarding it. It was my idea, I thought that Neville and I would be perfect as purebloods and Susan would garner your attention, Madam Bones. No offence, but the Ministry doesn't exactly love Harry at the moment so by himself I imagine someone somewhere would've just said he was lying."

"To be clear," Madam Bones said, "you are talking about Harry Potter?"

"That is correct." The quill continued writing, and Madam Bones glanced at the notes. Seemingly satisfied, she nodded to Shacklebolt.

"I wonder if we could return to the matter of Dolores Umbridge," Shacklebolt said. "You said that she used the blood quill on Mr Potter?"

"That's right, I think it was for about a week."

"And at no time did he report this?"

"Not that I'm aware of." Not that it would have made any difference, Daphne finished silently inside the privacy of her own head. "That's why I asked Neville and Susan to get Umbridge to drag them in for detention."

"And I take it that it was your idea to publish the story in the Quibbler?" Madam Bones interjected.

The article had arrived that morning and from what little Daphne had gathered around Hogwarts, the Quibbler was already selling more copies than it did in a year. News of the story was spreading like wildfire, no doubt thanks to Colin's photography and the rather blunt interviews she, Susan and Neville had given.

"Yes."

"To force the Ministry's hand," Madam Bones commented, with a wry smile. There was no malice there, and Daphne suspected that she, like many others, was becoming frustrated with Fudge's reign.

"I prefer to think of it as providing assistance, but sure."

The interview tailed off from there, with the two confirming more details and asking if Umbridge had shown any signs of abuse before — other than those which had already been discussed. It was pretty open and shut, but expensive representation were the type that required witnesses, formal statements, recognisable signs of pattern, demonstrable causality in events, and so on.

Susan was practically white by the time it was her turn to enter the interrogation room, but Madam Bones in an uncharacteristically kind manner took her to one side and demanded that Shacklebolt leave them alone until she had had a chance to talk to her niece. Daphne waited in the maelstrom of cubicles, smiling at a hit wizard who was eyeing her warily.

"I'll be taking you back," Madam Bones said, once she had finished with Susan. The hit wizard's gaze instantly shot to the ceiling when she arrived. "I'm due to have a word with Dumbledore."

Their trip back to the castle was relatively uneventful and Daphne was banished from Professor McGonagall's office with a curt thank you and a quick nod from the Transfiguration professor. Daphne's stomach was aching, but she had missed lunch and was supposed to be in Arithmancy. She ducked down to the Kitchens, where she was able to convince the House Elves to make her some sandwiches from the leftovers with no problem at all and then headed to lesson, where Hermione had saved her a seat.

Daphne wasn't entirely sure what had been said, but was grateful that they no longer had to tread on eggshells around the Gryffindor. It had been draining dealing with Tracey, who had been anxiously going over the stress of it all with Daphne almost every night. Not that Tracey wouldn't do the same for her, but it was nice to talk about something other than whether or not her budding relationship with Ron was going to falter because of Hermione. The truth couldn't have been more different. Ron, if anything, had spent more and more time with Tracey. The pair had been disappearing on separate study sessions or to the Quidditch pitch for 'practice'. Funny how neither of them left or came back with a broom, or their Quidditch robes.

Which was why, when Daphne collected the notes from Tracey on what she had missed at dinner that evening, she was alone in the library with only Harry for company. Without Snape blasting his mind apart, he seemed a lot more cheerful and had practically beamed at her when she had told him that Dumbledore recommended they carry on the DA.

"Good, cause I've still got loads to get through," he said, excitedly. "I reckon we could get onto Patronuses soon, though it'd be good if we could get hold of a Boggart or something."

"That'd only work for you," Daphne pointed out, "and what's to say you'd still see a Dementor these days."

After all, a lot had happened since their third year. "Good point," he agreed, "how was the Ministry anyway? Did it go alright?"

"Yeah, it was what I expected really. Just what happened, why, wait you arranged what? That kind of thing. Though, I reckon they'll drag you in soon. Dumbledore told us we'd better actually let on to why we came up with the plan in the first place, so no doubt Bones'll want a chat."

"She was at my hearing, in the summer."

"Oh yeah, I forgot you got the whole Wizengamot." It had been page six news, and Daphne had read with passing interest how the Boy Who Lived had wound up in court. It was funny, thinking back to how she'd thought about him. She'd often wondered what had actually happened because, when he'd been cleared, the Prophet were unsurprisingly cagey with details and her mother wasn't exactly a font of truth.

"Was it really Dementors that attacked you that night? Only we've never really talked about it and you can imagine how quiet everyone was when you weren't kicked out of school."

"Yeah, two of them. They were trying to get my cousin and me."

"I wonder who sent them?"

"Dumbledore reckons it was Voldemort."

"Maybe," Daphne hummed, now ignoring her Charms work entirely. The library was slowly emptying as night drew in and students who weren't working for their OWLs or NEWTs were smugly disappearing to have fun and enjoy their free time. "It'd be a bit odd though, wouldn't it? He's trying to keep a low profile, so why risk you and any Muggles that got in the way having your souls sucked out? It's not like the Ministry could hide that, not like an under-age magic trial."

"Yeah, it is a bit weird." Harry agreed, frowning. His glasses had slipped down his nose slightly from where he had been stooped over his essay, but he hadn't noticed.

"Just another mystery for you to solve," Daphne smiled. He rolled his eyes, but grinned back. "What? It's not my fault you go round having grand adventures."

"You know I don't go looking for them, right?"

"Says the boy who wants to be an Auror, that's literally looking for grand adventures. You could be Auror Potter, keeping the streets safe. Fighting crime. Just imagine it. You'd have to have a cool name too, you can't be the Boy Who Lived Forever." She looked around for ideas, trying to make it as dreadful and woeful as possible. Her gaze settled on the mass of parchment between them. "The Auror Who Kicks Arse and Occasionally Does Paperwork."

"Bit long, isn't it?"

"Accurate though," Daphne smirked. "And before you start don't pretend you'd actually do paperwork. I've seen your homework, remember? You'd be the scourge of organised filling." She was trying not to laugh at her own joke and the look of wounded innocence on his face. It was like kicking a Pygmy Puff. Though in that moment he somehow managed to seem more adorable.

"Better than being stuck in a tomb for six months," he shot back.

"I'll have you know, I'd be great at Curse Breaking."

"You hate being outside."

"Tombs are inside, Potter. Or have you forgotten how basic burial customs work?"

"Wow, Potter. Really?"

"Not my fault you're being thick," she teased, "and for your information I don't hate being outside. It's just either too cold or too hot a lot of the time for my liking. It's a mild disapproval."

"Same thing."

"Totally different."

"How?"

"Because it annoys you," Daphne grinned, just as Madam Pince rounded a particularly full bookcase to glare at the two of them, causing Daphne to have to bite her lip so as to not descend into fits of giggles as Harry swore under his breath.

"I don't have to be an auror," Harry said, when he was sure that Madam Pince had gone and the minor chatter of the library covered his hushed tones.

"Isn't it all you've ever wanted to do?"

"Only because nothing else really jumped out at me. I mean, you're right, sort of. It's kind of what I know. But, I've been thinking, what with the DA and everything, maybe it's not all I'd be good at."

"You're the best Defence Against the Darks Arts professor I've ever had." It was no word of a lie, while Professor Lupin had been instructive, covering dangerous animals had not interested her in the slightest and the rest of them had either been dull, woeful, or completely insane. In Umbridge's case, all three. Harry had been the only person able to actually get her to not only enjoy casting defensive spells but to also actually understand how they all worked.

"But Professor Lupin —"

"I'm serious, Harry. You're really good, better than Lupin. Imagine it, Professor Potter. Merlin's beard you'd sound so official. And let's face it, you'd be the girls' favourite. Not only would you be good-looking and young, but you're famous too." Good-looking, where had that come from?

"How do you even become a Professor?" Harry asked, a little awkwardly. So he had picked up on that.

"Here? Just be insane enough to take the job," Daphne shrugged, "but I don't know. Ask McGonagall, we've got those careers meetings coming up soon, haven't we?"

"I think so, no idea when though." But he seemed enthusiastic about the idea, more so than when he had talked about being an auror which had only ever struck Daphne as something he had simply fallen into wanting to do because, well, because he was Harry Potter and saving people was what he did. It was endearing in a naive, earnest sort of way. There was no way she'd have gone charging down to the Chamber of Secrets or sat at the bottom of that lake waiting for the other champions. It was why she'd not told him about Malfoy's little threat, because there was only one outcome and it would not help the issue in any way.

"Don't you two ever do anything else?" A voice from behind Daphne asked, splitting the relative silence like a dragon's roar. Astoria Greengrass flung herself down on the only available chair, flinging her dark hair behind her shoulders and grinning widely at the pair of them. "Honestly, you can do something other than study, you know? Look at Tracey and Ron, they're getting up to plenty. Michael Corner told me Filch caught them making out in a broom closet last week," her grin spread somehow wider. Harry goggled at her, still not used to Astoria's whirlwind approach to conversation.

"No he didn't," Daphne sighed. "It was Peeves." And the incident had been scarring apparently, with the poltergeist singing a rather lurid song as he chased them down the second floor corridor, hurling inkwells at them.

"Explains why they didn't get detention then," Astoria mused. "The rumour mill in this place isn't what it used to be."

"You're thirteen," Daphne pointed out, exasperatedly.

"And yet still able to use this thing called memory and hindsight," Astoria bit back, sarcastically. "I know, funny old world. Speaking of, did Umbridge really try and hex you when those aurors came the other day?"

"No, you really should stop believing everything you hear."

"Or I could have more fun figuring out the truth and the bollocks. Mind you, it's hard to keep up with everything they're saying about you these days. First Umbridge, then the Quibbler and apparently Pansy Parkinson's trying to bribe sixth years to jinx you." A sudden waterfall of dread crashed over Daphne, who knew exactly where this was going and before she could say anything, her sister was already speaking. "Malfoy too, though Blaze was telling me they're getting sick of him after Tracey keeps embarrassing him at Quidditch."

"What was that about Malfoy?" Harry asked, the humour from his voice vanishing.

"Didn't Daph tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

"Thanks, Tori." Daphne glared, sighing heavily before speaking again. This was going to be difficult. "He and some of the other Slytherins in our year, haven't taken too kindly to the fact I got Umbridge kicked out. They reckon I'm spending too much time with you and should stop." For my own good. "I ignored them, of course."

"But why does Parkinson hate you then?"

Daphne had hoped he wouldn't pick up on that part. She could practically feel Astoria itching to tell the story she had no doubt heard from Pansy and the others only that morning. "Because, she tried to jinx me and I disarmed her."

"Embarrassed her more like."

"Will you shut up?" Daphne snapped. "It's nothing I can't handle, Harry. Luckily for me, they're all absolute morons. I'll be fine."

Harry looked thoroughly unconvinced. This is why she'd wanted to avoid telling him, she thought, this was exactly bloody why and yes As-bloody-toria, as ever, couldn't keep her mouth shut. Knowledge is power, they always said so, and Astoria had taken that particular lesson and run with it since she was born. There wasn't a secret she didn't know, but unfortunately, she wasn't quite sure who didn't know they were secrets in the first place. It hadn't been malicious, she'd probably just assumed Harry already knew, but there was no getting away from the fact that he now, annoyingly, very much did know.

"And what if you're not? Fine, I mean."

"I can deal with Draco, don't worry. He wouldn't be stupid enough to actually do anything other than bluster around pretending he owns the place. It's just hot air and nonsense."

"Parkinson jinxed you."

"Tried to," Daphne corrected, "and that was partially my fault. She was being annoying so I pointed out that she was wasting her time with Draco. I don't think she particularly enjoyed what I had to say." She could already see Harry's mind going into over-responsible overdrive, and leant forwards, touching his hand as she had done at Grimmauld Place. "Look, it's not your fault, alright? I knew the risks of being your friend, and trust me, you're more than worth it."

"There shouldn't have to be risks," he said quietly. It was impossible not to see the survivor's guilt ebbing off him, and Daphne wondered if he had always been like this or if it had simply been seeing Cedric die that had caused him to be such an ardent defender of those he loved. The former was much more likely, she reckoned.

"No, but when was life fair, eh? Look, if it gets bad I'll say something, I promise. But the reason I didn't tell you is because it's nothing to worry about. You've got enough on your plate as it is without worrying about this. I'm fine, Harry, and we're fine. So who cares if Malfoy wants to stick his stupid nose where it isn't belonged?"

"If he tries anything —"

"No offence, Harry, but if he tries anything he's going to be more terrified of me than he is of you. Trust me, I've plenty more up my sleeve than just getting someone sacked."

"You shouldn't have to do that for me."

"I'm not," Daphne said gently. "I'm doing it because I want to hang out with you, my choice. Not yours. So can't be responsible for everything, Harry. Sometimes things are out of your control, and sometimes the good things just outweigh the bad. Simple as that."

That seemed to do the trick, or at least some of it because he nodded and together they agreed to get back to doing work in an awkward silence. It was only after Harry had left and Daphne and Astoria were heading down to the Common Room, that her sister spoke.

"Why'd you lie to him?"

"I didn't, it's nothing."

"Yeah, right. And I'm Merlin's daughter. Daph, if this gets out of hand or back," she checked around as they passed a gaggle of sixth-year Hufflepuffs heading past them for their own Common Room. "You Know Who, it's not just Draco you're going to have to worry about."

"Are you saying I shouldn't be friends with Harry?"

"No," Astoria smiled, "not at all. I like Harry, remember? I'm just saying mum's going to kill us when she finds out He's back and we're going to have to go hiding or something like that. Let's face it, it's only going to get worse."

Daphne didn't want to agree, but there was no escaping the truth. Voldemort had a habit of attacking Purebloods who weren't loyal to him, just as much as he enjoyed torturing Muggles. He might be in hiding, but that wasn't going to be the case forever. Rationally, Daphne should never have stepped through the threshold of the Hog's Head, she knew that. Rationally, she should have kept it to just teaching. Rationally, she should never have asked questions about the Order or embroiled herself with Sirius and taking down Umbridge. But with Harry, she was often anything but.

"Still, on the bright side, I definitely found something out tonight." Astoria said, her grin widening. "There's no way you two are just friends."

"Not this again," Daphne sighed. "We. Are. Friends. How many times do I have to say it?"

"I don't mind you lying to me, but please don't lie to yourself, Daph. Or do you really expect to believe that you'd take down Umbridge, face up against Draco and comfort anyone like that because you're 'just friends'. You forget, I've known you your whole life. What's so horrible about him that you won't accept that you like him?"

They'd stopped walking, Daphne wasn't entirely sure when. Students were heading past them, some whispering as they noticed Daphne, but most of them ignored them. It was a favour Daphne couldn't help but return as she stared at her sister. She wanted to retort that there was nothing wrong with him, that she just didn't like him, but the words couldn't, wouldn't spring to her lips. She wanted to say that it wasn't true. There were a lot of things she wanted to say.

But she couldn't. It was like something clicking into place in her head, the end of a wand bursting into light as the realisation washed over her. It was why she had pushed herself, why she refused to leave his side despite the fact that every instinct she had would have told her to do so. Harry was the opposite of what her brain, her ambition, would tell her to want. Dangerous, yet loyal, potentially lethal, yet always kind. He was like fire and ice all at once because of the path he had always been set on. That path was not his choice, had never been his choice, yet over the last few months she had found herself trending it with him. And why? The answer was staring her in the face, quite literally in the form of her sister.

"I can't," She admitted, her heart was racing faster than any fight could make it pound. She couldn't help but remember his face earlier that evening, with his glasses halfway down his nose and his eyebrows furrowed, it had warmed her heart but she'd been unsure why. Now, she was painfully aware just what she had been feeling. What she'd probably been feeling for weeks but had been so aggressively ignoring that she'd not even registered it. "And you've known all this time, haven't you?"

"Suspected, not known. 'Til tonight."

"You're going to make me do something about it, aren't you?"

"Course, it's what sisters do."

"Even if I tell you I hate you?"

"Especially if you tell me you hate me," Astoria grinned.

"Thought you'd say that," Daphne sighed. Well, if things hadn't been complicated before, they certainly were now. She liked Harry, and there wasn't a damn thing she could do about it.