Chapter Nine

Office Politics

Harry sat at his desk reading over a stack of files the team had requested from St. Mungo's, trying to find any hint of what the Death Eaters had been trying to brew during the war. He was already on his second cup of very strong, black coffee, but the words on the pages were blurring together, and nothing was jumping out at him.

He'd always hated Potions.

Auror Headquarters was loud and full of chatter that morning, and he was finding it difficult to concentrate. He could hear various conversations and the occasional bark of laughter, and it irritated him that everyone else obviously wasn't as busy as he was.

A number of inter-departmental memos in the form of paper aeroplanes kept whizzing overhead, and he had the irrational urge to grab them out of the air like a Snitch and crumple them up.

He shut yet another file and put it aside when someone pulled a chair up to the other side of his desk. Looking up, he was surprised to find Vivian Scott, who picked up one of the files on his desk and began perusing it.

"Can I help you?" he asked, perhaps more snippily than was warranted.

"Morning, Potter. I see your superior's charming personality has been rubbing off on you," she said, barely glancing up from the file.

Harry felt slightly chagrined – but only slightly. It wasn't as if she was sharing everything she knew with the Aurors, anyway, which only made his job more difficult.

"Sorry," he grumbled half-heartedly. "These files are nothing but endless lists of potion ingredients. I was rubbish at Potions. It's not like I'm even going to recognize an ingredient that doesn't belong there."

"Don't pay so much attention to the ingredients. Look for similarities in the notes. I don't think they'd be so blatant as using an asterisk or different color ink – but a word or abnormality in the listing. Something to alert a potioneer that there is more there," she said.

"You mean like a code? You think any hidden ingredients would be concealed?" Harry asked dubiously. If there was one thing he'd learned in Auror training, it was that codes could be broken.

Vivian seemed to know what he was thinking. "Not everyone is as suspicious as an Auror, and the potion makers at St. Mungo's wouldn't have wanted to reveal their alterations to every noob brewing common potion. Those in the know could cast a simple Revelio spell if something alerted them there was more there."

"How long have you been looking into these potions, and how many do you have brewing in the Department of Mysteries?" Harry asked, feeling irritated. She hadn't just pulled that tip off the top of her head.

"Pardon?" Vivian asked, raising her eyebrows.

It was a stall tactic Harry had frequently used in his younger, rule-breaking days. "Don't 'pardon' me. What do you know? Why all the secrets if we're supposedly working together?"

Vivian scrutinized him for several moments, her hazel eyes clouded. Harry couldn't work out what she was thinking.

"Point taken, Auror Potter," she said at last. "I've been called out for working too solitarily in the past, but some habits are hard to break."

Harry felt as if there was more to that statement than he was aware, but he'd never been good at interpersonal stuff. He supposed both Ginny and Hermione would know what to say, but he didn't, and he felt out of his depth.

He held his silence too long, and the moment was lost.

"Do you know Unspeakable Bowman?" Vivian asked, business-like once again.

The name rang a bell, but Harry couldn't place it. "I think we've met," he said slowly.

"She's the leading expert on poisons here at the Ministry. She's brewing several variations of the potions we believe Gwilym Gethin was looking into."

"Has she had any luck?" Harry asked.

Vivian shook her head, and Harry wondered if that was why she was sharing this bit of information with him. The name had finally clicked into place. "She worked on a poisoning case a few years ago with Hermione Granger," Harry said, hoping to avoid the fact that he'd been the one who'd been poisoned at the time.

"Yes, I remember," Vivian said, and Harry was pleased she was tactful enough not to mention it, either. "I remember she wanted Ms. Granger to come and work in the Department of Mysteries very much. As I recall, Ms. Granger still had another year of schooling ahead of her."

"Yeah, she went back after the war," Harry said absently, rubbing the back of his neck. He was having difficulty reckoning the idea of Hermione working in the DoM.

Again, Vivian seemed to be following his thoughts. "Despite Unspeakable Bowman's praise, I'm not certain Ms. Granger would be the right fit. She's doing very well where she is."

Harry grinned. "Hermione always wanted to change the world."

Vivian nodded. "She's very bright, but she overly fixates on specific details and misses the larger picture."

"Funny. She says the same about you," Harry said before he could stop himself.

Vivian's lips twitched as if amused. "I suppose I've heard that before, as well. I daresay, it's refreshing to work with someone unintimidated by my reputation."

Harry's eyes widened in surprise, but thinking about it, he supposed there were a lot of people that found Vivian intimidating. He knew from experience there were plenty of people at the Ministry who fawned over him, then complained about him behind his back. They all thought he sought out the attention, but he never had. Hadn't he heard how difficult she was to work with, too? But he hadn't found that the case.

"What brings you by, this morning? Anything specific or just helping me examine these files?" he asked.

"Actually, I was wondering if you'd seen the Prophet today?" she asked.

Harry scowled and turned back to his paperwork. "I've been avoiding it," he said shortly.

The Daily Prophet had run a story the day after the Quidditch Exhibition featuring a large photo of Harry with a swollen and bloody lip, claiming he'd threatened to kill fans like he'd done Voldemort if they didn't let him bypass the queue. Harry's irritation with the article hadn't abated. Rita Skeeter had lain low for a long time after he'd revealed her Animagus status, but over the past month, she'd been up to her old tricks once again.

Vivian raised her eyebrows, "Ah, right. They do tend to have a go at you rather frequently. Your lip looks better."

"It was never that bad," Harry yelped. "A reporter did bump me with his recording stylus, but it never bled like that."

"I see. And the threat?" she asked, and he was even more irritated to see that she was amused.

"That wasn't me. My mate shouted at the reporter to get out of our way," he said, forcefully turning a page in the file.

George had laughed it off, and he supposed he'd be better off doing the same, but he couldn't seem to shake it. He could handle them attacking his professional life, but he hated when they went after the personal side.

"Anyway, that isn't what I'm asking about. There was a story this morning about an increasing number of people getting sick. I think our days of covert action are coming to an end. I'm going to have to give a statement," Vivian said, looking as if she'd rather douse herself in Bubotuber pus.

"I sent a missing person inquiry to the police in Queensferry to try and track our mysterious Muggle victim. They sent back a rather substantial list. Ethan is in the conference room now going through it," Harry said.

"He's an eager one," Vivian said, nodding. "He should find something."

"Eager doesn't even begin to describe it," Harry muttered.

One of Vivian's rare smiles graced him. "I like seeing all the new faces and the new names occupying the Auror department. For too long, nepotism and blood status ruled the Ministry. Auror Zeelus shows me that things are changing. He reminds me of a Krup, so ready to please yet his intelligence usually leads him to the correct outcome."

Harry grinned. "A Krup, eh? I can see that, actually, and now I'll never get that image out of my head."

Vivian cocked her head to the side. "Sorry about that. I tend to enjoy animals more than people, so I often imagine counterparts."

Harry's mind drifted back to his wretched fifth year. "I once did that with someone I really hated. I understand you had a row with her at one point, too."

"Oh? And who would that be?" she asked.

"Dolores Umbridge," Harry said, grimacing.

Vivian did a better job of keeping her expression neutral. "Let me guess – you saw her as a toad?"

"Yes!" Harry said, recalling those toad-like eyes vividly. "You, too?"

"That one was too easy," Vivian said. "I hear she's still catching flies in Azkaban."

"I hope she stays there. Okay, if Ethan is a Krup, what's Owen, then?" Harry asked, more curious by the minute and not wanting to waste his time talking about Umbridge.

Vivian sobered, her lips puckering, "I'm not certain I should say."

"It'll go no further than us. I promise," Harry said, correctly guessing that it would cause more problems for her interpersonally if people heard her comparing them to animals.

"You're one of the few people whom I actually believe when you say that," Vivian said. "All right. Auror Savage is a grumpy old Kneazle."

Harry tried to cover his bark of laughter but he ended up gagging on it.

Vivian looked amused. "Yes, a Kneazle. Highly intelligent, but always thinks he knows better and wants everything his own way. Preens with a bit of attention, but, if you attempt to get him do something he doesn't want to do, he spits at you."

Harry chuckled and groaned at the same time. "Now that image is stuck in my head forever, too."

"I'm glad I could be of assistance. Please let me know if either you or Ethan comes up with anything new."

"Will do. And please do the same if Ailsa Bowman brews anything I should know about," Harry said, meeting her eyes.

She nodded and walked away. Harry had barely plunged back into his file when two fellow Aurors, Violet Benson and Lisa Turpin, entered his cubicle. Both had been part of his training class, and he was instantly on guard by the predatory looks on their faces. They looked as if he was the only remaining pudding on the dinner table.

He raised his eyebrows as they each took a seat across from his desk.

"Harry, always so busy," Violet said, flashing her very white teeth.

"Hullo, Harry," Lisa, the more subtle of the two, said. She'd long ago taken the blue streak out of her hair, but he was still startled by its absence.

"What can I do for you?" Harry asked guardedly.

"Oh, nothing special. We just thought we'd fancy a chat," Violet said, her smile growing even wider.

Harry shifted uncomfortably, his instincts telling him they wanted information about the case that he knew he couldn't give. Violet was a known gossip, and she always seemed to know everything there was to know about the goings on, not only in their department, but in the Ministry as a whole. She always knew who was dating, who was rowing, who was going to get a promotion. Her innate charm drew people to her, but it always made Harry wary, despite the fact she'd never been anything but pleasant to him. In fact, she'd even helped him out a time or two.

"We couldn't help but notice Unspeakable Scott has been around quite a bit," Lisa said, obviously going for a more direct approach. "What she's like? Most people find her unapproachable."

"She's direct, but she's not difficult," Harry said blandly.

"It's not only here. I've seen her in several departments, recently. It's as if there is a big, inter-departmental case happening, but not everyone is being brought in," Violet said, watching Harry closely.

"Is that what the rumor mill is saying?" he asked mildly.

"That's what I'm saying. We can all tell something is happening, and you're usually in the know," Violet said.

"Funny, I always think the same thing about you," Harry said.

"My instincts tell me something is happening. You usually know the details," Violet said.

"Come on, Harry. It doesn't take a genius to work out something is going on. Even the paper is filled with a mysterious illness killing both magical and Muggles. The Unspeakables are never up here this much, and they're certainly not usually speaking. What gives?" Lisa asked.

Harry sighed. "Look, I'm not at liberty to say, but I'm certain everyone will be updated soon."

Lisa rolled her eyes. "Says the perfect little Ministry employee. You do recall you once led a Ministry rebellion back in school, right?"

Harry refused to be cowed, and he met her gaze squarely. "That was when I knew they were in the wrong. I don't think so, this time."

"Aha! So, there is something this time," Violet said, triumphant.

Harry pressed his lips together, clam-like.

Lisa was the first to look away, disappointed, "Come on, Vi, we knew he wasn't going to spill. You need to work your charm on Owen."

"Who's not spilling what they know?" Michael Corner asked, sticking his head into the cubicle. "Ah, Potter, of course."

"Can I help you, Corner?" Harry asked, getting seriously annoyed now.

"Not everything is about you, Potter. I was actually looking for Benson," Michael said coolly.

"So asinine of me to think someone coming into my own workspace would be looking for me," Harry said.

"I heard her voice. Don't get your wand in a knot."

"I'm on my way back to my desk, anyway," Violet said, sighing. "We're just trying to work out what the big case is."

"Ah, the Muggle one?" Michael asked, looking disgruntled.

"We assume it's Muggle-related, but Harry is remaining tight-lipped," Lisa said reproachfully.

"Of course, he is," Michael said, rolling his eyes. "We're sent on a random raid into Knockturn Alley targeting sketchy potions brewed against Muggles during the war, and now a strange Muggle illness is sweeping across the country. Obviously, there's a connection, and naturally Potter is in the midst of it but refusing to share details. Haven't we all been here before?"

"If you have a problem with Potter keeping details quiet that I've personally asked him not to share, perhaps you'd like to file a complaint, Auror Corner?" Gawain Robards' biting voice cut across the cubicle. He stood in the opening, arms crossed and frowning at the group huddled around Harry's desk.

"No, sir," Michael said, his eyes opening wide and darting to and fro between Violet and Lisa, who'd also hastily jumped to their feet.

"Good. If you lot have nothing to do, I'll expect the reports from your cases on my desk posthaste. In the meantime, it is still my job to assign which Aurors work on which cases. If you have a problem with that, you're working in the wrong department. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir," all three muttered, hurrying away and leaving Harry with their irate superior.

"Potter, please join me in the conference room if you've finished socializing," Robards said, turning on his heel before Harry could respond.

Swearing under his breath, Harry secured his files and walked to the conference room, silently counting to ten before entering. Ethan was still there, but Harry was surprised to find Owen had joined them.

"Has something happened?" he asked, instantly on guard.

"We think we've identified the Muggle victim found in Gethin's lab," Owen said without preamble.

"And?" Harry asked, guessing there was more to it.

"And, he was a vagrant tenant staying in a flat on our wizarding family's property. They didn't report him missing as tenants typically stay for lambing season and then move on," Owen said.

"So, we have our point of contact between the Muggles and magical people outside of Gethin," Robards said. "Judging by the scene I just came across in your cubicle, Potter, I believe it's time we make a statement to the press," Robards said, running his finger along his chin.

"I spoke with Unspeakable Scott earlier. She thought so, too," Harry said.

"What scene? Is there something I ought to know?" Owen asked, looking between Harry and Robards.

"It appears a number of Aurors feel they should know the details of cases they aren't assigned to," Robards said shortly, not troubling to hide his displeasure. "The press release should alert everyone to the problem, but I see no need to cater to meddlesome fools."

He stood, nodding curtly before leaving the conference room.

Owen barely waited for the latch to click shut on the door before he turned to Harry. "What the ruddy hell happened?" he asked, and, thanks to Vivian's comments, Harry's mind automatically conjured the image of a cat with its fur on end.

"Benson, Turpin and Corner were looking for details on our case," Harry muttered. "I didn't confirm or deny anything, and it was getting heated when Robards showed up."

"Oh, yeah, the whole office is talking about it," Ethan said.

"And that better not include you," Owen said, glaring.

"It's not," Ethan yelped. "You said it was to be kept quiet, that doesn't mean I didn't listen to what they're saying."

"And what are they saying?" Harry asked.

"They pretty much have the illness right, though I haven't heard Spattergroit mentioned specifically. They think we're working on finding Dark wizards who are smuggling potions into the Muggle population. Oh, and they're also disgruntled that you get all the good cases, but that's just nonsense. Our lead wasn't supposed to be a big deal, we just sort of stumbled into it," Ethan said, sounding indignant.

"That's usually how it works," Harry said, sighing.

"Don't worry about it, lad. They all just want to be the 'effin Chosen One," Owen said, grinning hugely.

Harry gave him the two-finger salute.

"Well, obviously he's going to be in the know, since he is the Chosen One and all that," Ethan said incredulously.

"No. I think I'm usually in the know because stuff always happens to me," Harry said, irritated with both of them.

"Or because you're just bloody nosy," Owen said.

"There is that," Harry said, cocking his head to the side.

"So, is Scott doing the press release, then?" Owen asked, unable to keep the slight note of derision from his voice.

"Yeah. She also acknowledged they're brewing potions in the DoM trying to replicate Gethin's results," Harry said.

"How'd you get her to admit that?" Owen asked, eyebrows raised.

Harry shrugged. "I told her I thought she was. She's fairly upfront if you're the same with her."

Owen grumbled, looking mutinous and mumbling under his breath.

"Swearing at her obviously doesn't work, either," Harry added.

"Did you find any discrepancies in those ruddy reports you're going through?" Owen demanded crossly.

"Not yet. Vivian also said to look for some sort of marking or phrase that would alert other potion-makers of something hidden in the file," Harry said.

"What, like some sort of code?" Ethan asked.

Harry nodded. "Something fairly simple, but that only experienced eyes –those in the know – as you so eloquently put it, would recognize."

"Zeelus, go help Potter with those files," Owen said. "I'll get these ones returned to the Queensferry police now that we've identified our mysterious Muggle."

Harry sighed. "Come on, Ethan. Back to the grind."

/* /* /* /*

Ginny sank onto the bench in front of her locker, wearily casting cleaning charms on her practice kit. She'd been on the pitch for hours, and her body was protesting even moving her arm to cast the spells. Gwenog had put them all through their paces, nearly frantic to get things right before they went abroad before the season began.

Traditionally, Quidditch teams went abroad at this time of year to earn sponsor gold, but Ginny always hated it. She wasn't a fan of being away, and none of the matches counted for anything. It was basically a long publicity spree.

"Hey, Ginny, look alive," her teammate, Willow Gordon said, tossing her a glove. "You dropped this."

Ginny caught it, but winced at the motion. "Thanks, Willow."

Willow was a Beater, and she and Ginny had both been taken on at the same time, though the previous season had been the first time Willow had made the first team.

"D'you have any weekend plans?" Willow asked. "Weren't you planning on a holiday before the season starts?"

Ginny scowled. "I don't see that happening any time soon. Harry's working on a big case, and my brother is getting married."

"Don't you have about eighty brothers?" Willow asked, laughing.

"Certainly feels that way sometimes. This wedding has consumed just about everything else, but I remember that happening when my oldest brother got married, too. It must just be weddings."

"Who's having a wedding?" Theresa Grant, the team's Seeker asked, coming out of the showers with a towel wrapped around her head. "Ginny, did you get engaged?"

"No, I did not, and don't start that rumor. It's my brother," Ginny said firmly. Theresa was definitely the gossip on the team, and she was always asking Ginny about stories she read in Witch Weekly.

"Oh," Theresa said, sounding disappointed. "I thought maybe you and Harry had decided to make it official, finally."

"It is official, and we don't need to be married for that. We were made for each other."

"Of course, you were," Willow said, smirking. "So, what is it about your brother's wedding that's annoying you so much? Isn't it supposed to be a joyous occasion?" Willow was an only child, and always fascinated by the drama in the extended Weasley family.

"It is, and it will be," Ginny said, sighing. "It's just all the excessive planning and agonizing over details that I really couldn't care less about."

"Chin up. It'll be over before you know it," Willow said bracingly.

"How about you? Any weekend plans?" Ginny asked, dragging herself off the bench and stowing her kit in her bag.

"I'm visiting the folks," Willow said, with a falsely cheery smile.

"You have fun with that," Ginny replied. "How about you, Theresa?"

Theresa paused while dressing, momentarily looking lost. "I don't… think so."

"What the ruddy hell does that mean?" Willow asked, grinning.

Theresa shook her head rather forcefully. "I don't have any plans. I need to meet some new blokes. We can't all be like Ginny and have a steady already. When are you going to marry that boy?"

Ginny stared at her, irritated. Was she taking the mickey? "Theresa, I'm not going to keep telling you this, and I don't want to see any rumors coming out of the locker room about it."

"All right, all right. Don't get your knickers in such a twist. I was just asking," Theresa said huffily.

"I've had enough of this impossibly long day," Ginny said through gritted teeth. "I'll see you all on Monday."

They bid their farewells and Ginny Apparated to Grimmauld Place. The weather in Wales at their practice facility had been cloudy, but here in London, it was pouring. By the time Ginny had pushed open the front door, she was already drenched and had to use a spell to dry off. Theresa always managed to annoy her with her obsession with celebrity gossip. She regularly made a beeline for Harry at every team function, and Ginny was proud of herself that she hadn't once hexed her. Yet.

Ginny had planned to head straight for the kitchen and find something to eat, but voices from the sitting room distracted her. She hadn't expected anyone else to be home. She moved cautiously – despite knowing all the enchantments on the house wouldn't allow strangers to enter – because some old habits were hard to break. Inside the room, she found Hermione sitting with Padma Patil, sharing tea and an odd assortment of snacks. Hermione had never taken to cooking, and her attempts usually proved… interesting.

Padma and her twin had returned to Hogwarts along with Hermione to finish their interrupted seventh year. The girls had grown close during that strange year, and Ginny always thought Hermione enjoyed Padma's company far more than she ever had her sister's.

"Ginny," Hermione said, spotting her in the doorway. "Come and join us, how was practice?"

Ginny dropped her bag in the corner and slumped onto the sofa, grabbing a biscuit off the plate. "Long. How are you, Padma?"

"I'm good, really good. Shop is doing great, but I never get to leave. I stopped by hoping George would be home, but Hermione was nice enough to offer a cuppa and a catch up," Padma said whilst Hermione poured Ginny a cup of tea.

The Patil twins had opened a clothing boutique in Diagon Alley after leaving Hogwarts, and George had given them a lot of helpful business advice on getting it started. From what she'd heard, the boutique had become a popular hot spot amongst young witches.

"Ooh, I've been meaning to come in. I need a dress to wear to Percy's wedding," Hermione said.

"I'd love to find you something," Padma said eagerly. "We just received a shipment of some beautiful silk from Milan that would look spectacular with your coloring."

Disgruntled by more wedding talk – and the fact Hermione could choose what she'd wear – Ginny bit into her biscuit. It tasted strange and she couldn't even identify the type of biscuit it was. Glancing down, she was alarmed to see it was green inside.

"Hermione, what's in this biscuit?" she asked warily.

Hermione smiled brightly, "Do you like it? It has a form of algae that my mum sent me. It's supposed to be packed with nutrients."

"How extraordinary," Ginny said, carefully putting the biscuit down and taking a big gulp of tea. The bowl of crisps looked like the only safe option, so she moved it to within reaching distance. "Any new interesting blokes in your life, Padma?"

Padma shrugged. "Not really. I went out a few times with Stephen Cornfoot, but there really wasn't a spark. Parvati always likes to paint the town more than I, but I wish I could find the right match to spend some time with."

"We have a new Healer on the training staff, and he's really good-looking. I don't know if he's available, but I could find out," Ginny said, remembering how he'd really helped when she'd hurt her knee during practice.

"Oh, no," Padma said, raising her hands as if to hold Ginny off. "I'm not interested in any of your matchmaking, Ginny Weasley."

Hermione grinned. "It's not like she's bad at it."

"Doesn't matter. I'll find my own, thank you very much," Padma said, grinning to soften the words.

"Suit yourself," Ginny said, shrugging.

"I saw Ron the other day. He was helping out at George's shop," Padma said.

"Yeah, he's been doing that a lot," Hermione said, a slight crease forming on her forehead. "George could really use some help."

"He could," Padma agreed. "He's always in a much better mood when Ron is there. More… care-free, like he used to be."

Ginny swallowed hard and looked away feeling as if Fred were in the room with them. Sometimes it snuck up on her and felt as if she'd been punched in the gut.

"Ron looks really good, Hermione," Padma went on, missing the tension in the air. "He's really filled out since we were in school. You must be feeding him well."

Hermione grimaced and shifted uncomfortably. "It's not me. Harry's the one who does most of the cooking around here, although Ginny's not bad, either," she said, nodding towards Ginny.

"I can do it; I just don't enjoy it. Harry seems to like it for some odd reason. He enjoys cooking it over eating it, which is just bizarre," Ginny said. She'd never understand the way Harry could often simply forget to eat. Ginny didn't think she'd ever forgotten to eat in her life.

"Hello, ladies," George said, entering the sitting room and grabbing one of Hermione's biscuits. "How spiffing to return after a long day and find my home filled with beauty."

His face lost its charming smile as he bit into Hermione's biscuit. "What is this?" he asked, his mouth full.

"Hermione's algae biscuits," Ginny said, trying and failing to hold back her laughter.

George took a napkin and spit it out, wiping his tongue in the process. When he caught Hermione's hurt expression, he lied straight-faced, "I'm allergic to algae."

"George, I actually stopped by to talk with you. D'you have a minute to answer a few questions about importing?" Padma asked.

"Sure, but only just. I'm meeting someone at the pub shortly, and this rain is sure to pack the place," George said, taking the chair next to her.

As Padma and George began discussing their various businesses, Ginny leaned toward Hermione. "How come you're home so early today? Is everything all right?"

Hermione nodded, "Oh, yes, it's fine. Several members of our team are putting together a press statement, and since I wasn't involved with that, I thought I'd take advantage to do some reading on the Cerebrumous Spattergroit contagion. Trouble is, there simply isn't a lot written about it. I didn't expect to see Padma."

Ginny's shoulders slumped, "Oh, so Harry and Ron shouldn't be expected to be along earlier, too?"

"They might. They aren't involved with the press aspect, either, and I know Harry wanted to be out of there before the press conference," Hermione said, grimacing.

Ginny brightened. "Oh, I hope so, I feel like I barely get to see you lot these days."

Hermione patted Ginny's leg comfortingly. "I know, it's been so hectic, and your own busy season is coming up soon."

"Hermione!" Ginny said, eyes widening in shock. "Don't tell me you've actually worked out the Quidditch schedule."

Hermione grinned. "Still not claiming I care, but… I'd have to be a dolt, being unable to follow it, living with you lot."

"And no one has ever been foolish enough to call you a dolt about anything," Ginny said, shaking her head.

Hermione smiled, biting her lip, a troubled expression stealing over her face. "Do you think Padma's right, in what she said about George being happier when Ron is at the shop?"

Ginny shrugged. "Probably, why?"

"It's just that, I think Ron is happier when he's there, too," Hermione said, whispering and looking over her shoulder to be certain George and Padma were still engaged in conversation.

Ginny frowned. "How do you mean? Happier than when he's at the Ministry? I think anyone would be happier in a joke shop than at the Ministry, Hermione." She couldn't even fathom how anyone could stand being stuck behind a desk all day. She knew the Aurors went out to solve cases, but the idea of most of the Ministry jobs – Hermione's included – bored her to tears.

Hermione shook her head slowly, as if carefully gathering her words, "No, I mean… I don't know. I've just noticed how he comes alive when he's at the shop, almost like he comes into his own. He was really chuffed to become an Auror, don't get me wrong, but he's never felt the same satisfaction… the same sense of purpose that Harry does. I think he wants to help his brother, obviously, but he also tends to shine when he's at the shop. He has a good head for business, marketing in particular. Have you noticed?"

"I suppose I hadn't really thought about it. I didn't know he was unhappy at the Ministry," said Ginny, taking another sip of her tea.

"He's not, that's just the thing. This might all be in my head, and he's accused me of underestimating him before, so I've actually kept my mouth shut," Hermione said, staring pointedly at Ginny, who smirked.

"Good for you You've done a good job," she said, knowing how difficult not saying anything could sometimes be for her friend.

"I know he wouldn't think about leaving now… but I wonder if after the case and we've contained the spread of this disease… if it might be something he's considering. Honestly, I think the biggest deterrent would be Harry."

Ginny was startled. "Harry? Why? He'd never hold Ron back if it was something Ron truly wanted."

Hermione impatiently blew a huff of air out of her nose. "I know that. Ron still has a thing about needing to watch Harry's back. I know Harry can look after himself, but it's been a lifelong job for us, and Ron's never really gotten over Harry walking away to hand over his life during the Battle."

"I don't think any of us has ever got over that," Ginny said darkly. Sometimes, she still awoke in terror after envisioning Hagrid carrying Harry's limp body in his arms, Harry's arm just dangling, motionless. Ginny had that moment so vividly imprinted upon her mind; she could even taste the bile that had arisen in her throat. Shuddering, she had to shake her head to clear it in order to focus on Hermione's words.

"No, I don't think he ever fully will. There's also the matter of the Ministry Quidditch matches. He'd hate to lose that," Hermione said, sounding both exasperated and bemused.

"He could probably get together with George and the other merchants and set up a Diagon Alley little league, if he wanted," Ginny said, smiling faintly. She knew how much it annoyed both Ron and Harry when she referred to their team as a little league, but that only made her want to do it more

"I don't think it would really hold him back, but I'm aware I usually underestimate anyone's devotion to Quidditch," Hermione said, smiling.

"You don't say?" Ginny asked with mock incredulity.

"I don't mean you. Obviously, it's your career, so it should be a high priority, and Harry always tends to obsess, but Ron's devotion to that game borders on fanatical."

"You just don't understand Quidditch, Hermione. It's more than a sport… it just becomes part of you," Ginny said, wishing she could put into words the feeling of camaraderie, the intense passion, that feeling if her team didn't win that nothing would be right in the world. She knew Hermione wouldn't get it. It was a feeling, not a logical thought, so there is no way Hermione would ever entertain its validity. That didn't make it any less real or important.

Hermione was staring at Ginny as if she had three heads. "Well, yes, but the point is… I think Ron might be considering leaving the Ministry and going to work with George, but I'm not certain if he and George have discussed it. I've never been able to read George well."

Ginny could see that the fact she'd never been able to work that out annoyed Hermione greatly.

"Well, I'm certain we'll hear about it, if that's the case. Neither of them could ever keep a secret for long. I'd suggest letting Ron bring it to you, though. I think if he takes it as anyone's idea but his own, he'll see it as lack of faith in his Auror abilities, and he'll just dig his heels in."

Hermione nodded. "I suppose you're right."

"Of course, I'm right. I usually am," Ginny said, smiling brightly.

Hermione snorted. "I wish Ron had inherited some of that self-confidence."

"He's been loads better since the war, actually," Ginny said, wondering how Hermione had tricked her into defending her brother. She usually tried to avoid that.

"I know he has," Hermione said, sighing. "Typically, the only person who doubts Ron is Ron himself, particularly since the war."

"I think he came out of the war better than all of us, to be honest. He seems to appreciate life more and just finds joy in the little things. Don't ever repeat this or I'll emphatically and categorically deny it, but I think we could all take a life lesson from Ron," Ginny said, a bit grudgingly.

Hermione took her in hand, giving it a light squeeze. "Your secret is safe with me."

They were interrupted when Ron and Harry entered the sitting room, both with wet hair and rowing good naturedly. Ginny suspected they might've stopped at the pub rather than coming home directly.

"I didn't say any such thing," Harry said, looking exasperated.

"What's going on now?" Hermione asked, sounding very put upon.

Ron walked over and kissed her before taking the bowl of crisps from Ginny. "Apparently, Harry landed the whole Auror department in detention."

Harry dropped onto the sofa next to Ginny, leaned over and kissed her a bit longer that was socially acceptable.

"Oi!" Ron said as they broke apart.

Ginny grinned against Harry's lips. "Long day?"

"You don't know the half of it," he said, sighing and swinging his legs around so his head rested in her lap. Ginny cast a spell to dry his hair as he got comfortable. He'd blatantly had a trying day if he didn't care who was watching. Harry was usually much more reserved about such things – except when he'd had a few pints.

"What do you mean by 'detention'?" Hermione asked, concerned.

George and Padma had stopped their conversation to focus upon the new arrivals, as well. They all exchanged greetings before Ron said, "Robards was on a rampage. He started handing out additional cases left, right and center."

"Are you on another case, Harry?" Ginny asked, aghast. He barely came home now as it was.

"No, not me. Robards overheard a few people quizzing me on what was happening with my case and why Unspeakable Scott was around so much. They had the general gist of it, but wanted more details," Harry said, running his hand along the back of his neck. Ginny recognized it as a sure sign he was uncomfortable about something.

"Harry was blamed for it though. I heard Michael Corner on a blistering rampage because he was handed a case that involved interviewing some old bird who suspected her neighbor of being a peeping Tom," Ron said gleefully. "It really should've gone to Magical Law Enforcement, but I think that was Robards' point."

Ginny rolled her eyes. Ron had never gotten over the fact Ginny had dated Michael when she was a third-year. A third-year, of all the ruddy idiotic things to be upset over.

"Robards decided there wasn't enough work if we all had so much time to gossip," Harry said sheepishly.

Ginny thought he looked rather cute when his cheeks turned all rosy the way they were. She ruffled his hair fondly, and he leaned into her hand.

"Well, you lot might have all day to discuss office gossip, but I have a date to get to, so I'll be off," George said, waving to the room at large.

"Are you going out with Angelina?" Ginny called after him loudly, but he ignored her, and a moment later, they heard the front door closing.

"I bet it is Angelina," Hermione said, still staring at the empty door.

"Probably. I saw them both at lunch the other day at the Leaky Cauldron," Padma said, her gaze following Hermione's.

Hermione looked startled. "Did they look as if they were having a row, or were they happy?"

Ginny leaned over Harry, her hair falling into a curtain around them. "You look tired," she whispered.

"Robards accused me of socializing, and I didn't tell him where to stick it," he mumbled.

"Did you shout?" she asked, grinning.

"No! I was a good boy and took my lumps," he answered, grumbling.

"What a good Auror you're becoming. Respecting authority and all… who could've seen that coming?"

"Shut it," he said, using those incredible ab muscles of his to pull up and capture her mouth for a searing kiss.

They were jarred apart when Ron plopped down on the sofa by Harry's ribs, jarring him so his head fell back onto Ginny's lap with a squelching sound as their kiss was broken.

"So, what do you think? Are George and Angelina back together?" Ron asked, oblivious.

Harry looked up at her, exasperated. "I think I'm going to hit your brother, now."

"Be my guest. Or I could hit him for you, either works," Ginny replied indifferently, causing him to smile. She always tended to melt when he unleashed those lovely green eyes on her. They sparkled more than anyone's eyes should, and it always made her lose her train of thought. Those eyes ought to be illegal.

"Why would you want to hit me?" Ron asked, looking at Harry, surprised and rather hurt.

"Maybe because they haven't seen each other all day and wanted a moment to themselves, Ronald," Hermione said, exasperated.

"They're not just with themselves, though. We're all here," Ron said, looking bewildered.

"Oh, Ron, just because Harry loves Ginny doesn't mean he loves you any less," Padma said, giggling.

"Yeah, Ron – you should be happy Harry chose Ginny. He could've dated someone like… like Daphne Greengrass, and then you'd never get to see him. He'd probably be in a room with her sister and Draco Malfoy right now," Hermione said, looking thoroughly amused by the disgusted expression on Ron's face.

"Well, having to spend time with that git is reason enough right there not to date her," Harry said, making a revolted face. "Do I even know Daphne Greengrass?"

"Slytherin in our year. She was one of Pansy Parkinson's clique," Hermione answered automatically.

"So basically, another cow," Ginny said sourly.

"She didn't play Quidditch, so you probably didn't know her," Padma said, seeming to enjoy the teasing.

"Not like the Slytherins ever let any witches play, though, so she might be good," Ginny said.

Harry looked at her incredulously. "I can't believe you're going along with this. I don't want to date anyone else but you."

Ginny smiled, a warmth feeling her belly and radiating upwards, filling her. "And that's why it doesn't bother me to joke," she said, leaning over and kissing him again.

"Yeah, and Harry would never want to be mates with Malfoy over me," Ron said, still squeezed onto the sofa with them.

"Of course, he wouldn't," Hermione said, ruffling his hair.

"The part about Malfoy is true, but I could stand a little less of you, particularly when I'm trying to snog my girlfriend," Harry said, nudging his hip over so Ron slipped off the sofa.

"Hey!" Ron said, catching himself before he fell. "Watch it. This isn't the time for snogging. We have company."

"I don't mind snogging. I find them adorable," Padma said.

"Well, I don't," Ron said, scowling as he pushed his way back onto the sofa.

"Oh, Ron, I'll always still love you, too," Harry said, pulling himself up and planting a wet, sloppy kiss onto Ron's cheek.

"Eww, Harry," Ron shouted, jumping up and wiping at his face repeatedly while the others roared with laughter.

"See, Ron, you haven't lost him to Ginny," Hermione said, wiping her eyes.

Ron looked furious, glowering at all of them. "What's for dinner? I'm starving."

"You tell us, it's your night to cook," Ginny said, glowering right back.

They were all surprised to see his countenance brighten. "Oh, yeah. Mum sent leftovers," he said happily, heading toward the kitchen.

"So Mum is really doing the cooking on your nights?" Ginny asked indignantly.

"Shh," Harry said urgently. "Your mum's cooking is much better than his, and I'm hungry, too."

"That's not the point," Hermione said, also scowling.

Ginny still felt irritated. Her mum never did the cooking when it was her night, but she knew Harry had been off food for a lot of this case, so if he was hungry, she wasn't going to make a fuss. She could still be angry with Ron, though. "He can be such a foul little git. If he's not interrupting, he's acting as if it's something scandalous if Harry and I more than hold hands."

"He's protective," Padma said. "It's rather sweet."

"Honestly. Ron has spent his entire life being the little brother. With you two, he gets to be the big brother for a change, and that suits his desire to protect you both. He teases you because that's always how his older brothers treated him," Hermione said, rolling her eyes.

"I'm not his little brother – we're the same age," Harry said, indignant.

"Technically, you won't be twenty-one for another week, but that doesn't matter. Ron is protective of you because he thinks someone ought to be," Hermione said.

"I can look after myself," Harry said, rather cross.

"Barely," Ginny couldn't stop herself from muttering.

Harry goggled at her. "Ginny!"

"What? If I have to deal with it, it's only fair that you should too," she said, enjoying the gob-smacked expression on his face. She did so enjoy winding him up.

"How is that in any way fair?" he asked.

"Because the more he smothers you, the less he smothers me. We're a team, remember?" she said, smiling impishly.

Harry quirked an eyebrow at her. "You're enjoying this entirely too much."

"Oh, they are so adorable," Padma said to Hermione, her hands clasped to her chest.

"They are, and they both know Ron does it from a place of love for both of them," Hermione said, smiling.

"Wish he loved me a little less," Ginny grumbled, but she noticed that Harry didn't say anything. He'd spent half of his life without anyone loving him. She supposed he found it nice that they were competing over loving him now.

Author's Note: I had a lot of fun with this chapter – I hope you enjoy it. If you do, please don't forget to leave a comment. Thanks!

Much thanks and appreciation to my beta team, Sherylyn, Arnel and Sue for their time, patience and care in always reading over these chapters and letting me know what could be improved. I really appreciate the help.