And five, four, three, two...one. On cue, Pretty Spanish Girl walked into the store as the bell above the door tinkled. George had become accustomed to her coming into his store, as she now provided a welcome distraction for him. He had almost forgotten to brood over Fred's absence. She had started coming in every day, seemingly just to look around the store, and occasionally bite her lip as she stared at some virtually harmless product. Maybe she's a health inspector or something, George ventured. Let's find out.

George noticed that she was looking at the shelf of Edible Dark Marks, and felt a pang of loss. They had been Fred's idea. While Voldemort had been at large, they had become popular enough to rival Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans. Unlike those, the Dark Marks were generally a lemony flavor, but some were orange- or apple-flavored, and even some more bizarre flavors when the Weasley twins got bored. Fred's theory had been that a person could eventually figure out which flavor to expect from Bott's Beans. As the twins had felt this took the fun out of it, they decided to make all the sweets look the same, while only some had different flavors.

"They don't sell as well, nowadays," George said from behind her. She jumped, startled by him. As she turned around, her eyes widened with surprise. Is it that shocking? George asked privately. "See, we started selling them to take the piss out of Voldemort, but…oh, sorry..." he added, as the girl flinched ever so slightly.

Most of the Wizarding world was still getting over the fear of Voldemort's name, with some delusional Death Eaters still maintaining that their Lord would return. However, within a few years after Voldemort's fall, all the Death Eaters had been rounded up. Since many of them had fled the country, it actually ended up as an international effort, even though most of Voldemort's destruction had occurred within Britain.

George continued to explain how the Dark Marks weren't as popular now. "So, we started stocking Bertie Bott's Beans, till..." he paused, remembering the plans he and Fred had made together. The girl was still staring intently at him, and George wondered if she was even listening. "Till we came up with new ideas for sweets," he finished, not finding it as painful to talk about his and Fred's plans as he would have thought.

"Oh, I see. Well, I never liked them much anyway," she responded, wandering away from the Dark Marks. George stood still for a second, before following the girl. She looked at the Patented Daydream Spells and the customized love potions next. George remembered with another pang when he and Fred had shown them to Hermione and Ginny, when they had come to see the store for the first time.

"You've been showing up every day now for about a week," George commented. She turned again, raising an eyebrow. "Not that we have a problem," he added quickly. "It's just, if old man Zonko is sending pretty spies to steal our ideas, I'd like to know before he runs me out of business." She gave a small chuckle, before extending her hand. George felt that she was still staring at him unusually intently, some surprise still lingering in her eyes.

"I'm Aurora Marquez," she said, giving George a warm smile. He felt an unfamiliar shudder in the bottom of his stomach. Something I ate? He asked himself. George shook her hand, smiling back.

"George Weasley, co-foun..." George broke off suddenly. The light-heartedness he had felt in the few minutes he spent with Aurora Marquez instantly evaporated. Again, the loss of Fred weighed down on him. Aurora looked at him with concern, but didn't say anything. Wordlessly, he started to shuffle away from her.

"Is something wrong?" she asked, hesitant about following him. George shook his head. He was surprised to find that the sadness too disappeared as suddenly as it came. Turning back to Aurora, he saw her face full of concern and worry. She barely knew him and was already worried about him. Sighing inwardly, George hoisted a smile onto his face, and explained that he must have eaten something funny, that he wasn't quite well. She seemed to relax, and complimented the store. Thanking her, George began to show her around.

Aurora followed him as he described the different practical jokes and pranks he and Fred had amassed over the years. It didn't seem to be so difficult to talk about things he had done with Fred with her, even though they had only just met. Maybe because of that. Regardless, as he joked and laughed with Aurora, he felt like he didn't need to think about his issues with his brother.

"Trick wands?" Aurora asked with raised eyebrows. George nodded at the large bin full of them. He reached into the bin with a pair of nearby tongs and pulled one of the wands out. Aurora looked a little anxious as he offered it to her.

"If you're too scared..." he suggested playfully, trailing off. Aurora laughed.

"I'll show you scared!" she replied, grabbing the wand. With a small pop, the wand turned into a rubber mousetrap. Aurora played along and gave a fake scream of fear as it snapped painlessly over her fingers. "Oh yes, absolutely terrifying," she said with a smirk. George shook his head as she picked up a few more trick wands, smiling as they suddenly popped and turned into random objects. After returning the tin parrot, rubber duck, and toy car to the bin, George continued the tour.

As he showed Aurora around, he found that she simply refused to be shocked or even surprised by any of the Weasley Wizard Wheezes products. He expressed mock frustration as Aurora faked a disdainful look at the Extendable Ears, and had to admit that she put on a good show of being unimpressed by the Headless Hats. She then happily grabbed one of the Shield Cloaks, asking George to let her test it.

"I'll warn you, some well-placed curses can shatter the shields on those," George warned. Aurora rolled her eyes at him, and spun around in the bright red cloak. Okay, you asked for it, George thought. "Locomotor Mortis!" he cried out suddenly.

Aurora threw her hands up to shield herself, caught by surprise. The purple jet of light flew towards her, before ricocheting off an invisible barrier a few centimeters from her chest. George had a moment to bask in pride, until he realized that the curse was heading back at him. Aurora burst out laughing as George toppled to the ground and struggled to get back to his feet, before taking out her wand to perform the counter-curse. However, she was laughing so hard that it slipped from her hand. George let out a laugh too as he reached for it, at the same time as Aurora. Their hands touched the wand at the same time, and Aurora's hand brushed against George's. He retracted it at once, feeling a slight shiver run down his arm. Aurora didn't seem to have noticed anything, and pointed her wand at him before muttering the counter-curse. George's feet immediately sprung apart.

Getting to his feet, he surveyed Aurora. What was that? Maybe it was that static electricity thing Dad was talking about that one time, he thought. Yes, that would be it. Static electricity. Suddenly, George felt his articulacy drop. He then remembered why he wanted to talk to her in the first place. He asked Aurora why she kept coming back, causing her to look away from him.

"Oh, well...look, I don't want to sound presumptuous," Aurora said nervously, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. Again, something funny happened in the pit of George's stomach. He was starting to think that it didn't have to do with something he ate. "I was wondering if you were hiring." George blinked. She…wants to work here? "Don't worry, I promise I'm not a Zonko's spy. Unfortunately, they couldn't afford my fee," she added with a laugh.

George didn't know how to respond. He had not been expecting her to apply for a job. Thus far, they had managed to stay away from the topic of the other co-founder. But how long would that last if they started working together? George considered her. Hiring someone would mean less work for him. Less work for him would mean more time to himself, and more time to himself would mean more time thinking about Fred. One thing he never wanted to do too much of was think about Fred.

Aurora seemed to gather the worst from his silence. George found himself staring at her, deep in thought, and noticed how her face fell when she thought his answer was going to be "no." Muttering something about not wanting to waste his time, she turned to leave. George searched for something to say, but for some reason she had left him at a complete loss for words. Clearing his throat, he jogged to catch up to her.

"Wait!" he called as she reached the door. She turned, and George slowed. Looking directly into his eyes, she shut the door. He couldn't manage to maintain eye contact with her large, brown eyes for long. "Look, why do you want to work here?" Aurora shrugged. Good answer, George thought privately.

"I just think I need more laughs in my life," Aurora said finally, after thinking the question over. George nodded. No arguments here, he said to himself. That was settled. Showing the new girl the ropes might actually help take his mind off things, anyway.

Aurora's eyes widened with delight when he told her his decision. She gave a small shriek of excitement and threw her arms around him. George was taken so completely aback that he just stood stock still. Apparently, Aurora also realized her own forwardness. Releasing him sheepishly, she gave him an embarrassed grin. Thanking him profusely, she left the store, promising to return tomorrow for her first day. George stared after her, a genuine smile spreading across his face for the first time in years.

"I'm telling you, Kingsley's avoiding me," Harry said grudgingly, as Hermione served him some tea. He had been trying to get a meeting with Kingsley for the past week, but the Head of Magical Law Enforcement was suddenly proving very elusive.

Ron avoided Harry's gaze, and gave an understanding nod, before apologizing and mumbling something about being late. He promptly got up from the dining table and left the room, before a loud crack emanated from the bedroom. Harry would have bet Ginny, Teddy, and his house that Ron had Apparated to the Ministry. Ron was actually gaining a slippery nature to rival Kingsley Shacklebolt, while Hermione remained conveniently blind to the slightly increased tension between Harry and her fiancé. He, Harry, repeatedly told himself that he wasn't angry at Ron for becoming an Auror when he didn't. However, if he was honest with himself, there was perhaps a teeny, tiny part of him that was just a little bit resentful. But the question still remained, why was Ron avoiding him?

"Oh, don't be silly, Harry," Hermione replied with an exasperated tone, bringing him back to reality. But, quite like Ron, she wasn't looking directly at him. "I'm sure he's just busy, like he says." Harry snorted. It took him a second to realize that she was talking about Kingsley, not Ron.

What on Earth did Kingsley have to be busy with? It's not like they were in a state of war anymore. Of course, there were still plenty of Dark wizards to capture, but following Voldemort's defeat, things had essentially returned to how they had been even before the fourteen years of Voldemort's exile. Harry was certain that there was no reason for Kingsley to be busy every day of the week. "Harry, Kingsley's a department head!" Hermione said, trying to convince him that there was a completely professional reason why he couldn't see Kingsley.

"Alright, look," she said, giving up at the sight of Harry's sour face. "I have a lot interviews to get through today, but you can come with me," Harry raised an eyebrow.

"Look, Hermione, I love you, but I don't think watching other people get jobs is exactly what I want to see right now…" Hermione gave him a playful shove.

"Not to watch me work, you idiot!" she said with a laugh. "I can help you corner Kingsley, and you two can have a chat about why the Ministry doesn't want Harry Potter to work for them." Harry gave her a look, as if the answer should have been obvious. "Come on!" she said, holding her hand out. Sighing, Harry took it and Apparated with her to her office.

As their feet touched the solid wood floor of Hermione's office, Harry took a look around. It was exactly like he imagined a room belonging to Hermione would look. Everything was neatly in place, with not even a single quill where it shouldn't have been. Harry had a funny feeling that Hermione spent more time perfecting her office than doing her work. Although, knowing Hermione, she probably finished the work at twice the speed of a normal person anyway.

Hermione did not become apply to become an Auror like Harry and Ron, and instead decided to put her talent to work in a different area of magical law enforcement. A few weeks after they left Hogwarts, she revealed to both of them that she had been offered a junior apprenticeship at the Improper Use of Magic Office. Unsurprisingly, after only a couple of years, she had already risen to Deputy Head of the entire division.

After sifting through some paperwork, Hermione accompanied Harry to the Auror Headquarters. It was nearly lunchtime by the time they got there, and as the office of the Head of Magical Law Enforcement was right next to the Auror Headquarters, Hermione reassured him that Kingsley would turn up there eventually. However, since neither of them were Aurors, they had to simply hang around outside, waiting.

"Harry?"

"Mmm?"

"Would you mind terribly if I abandoned you?" Hermione asked seriously, biting her lip. Harry nearly laughed. She was probably thinking about how enraged he had been about the rejection letter, and how he probably wanted some moral support. But he hoped sincerely Hermione didn't think he was so unreasonable that he would make her stay away from her work just to keep him company. Then again, you did once ask her to skip out of school on the slight chance that your godfather was being tortured by a megalomaniacal psychopath known for tricking his enemies into traps, Harry thought dryly.

He shook his head, forcing Hermione to go back to her work. Waiting for Kingsley was not a two-person job. As Hermione's curly brown hair disappeared around the corridor, Harry returned to his bitter thoughts. Why wasn't the Ministry giving him a job?

"The Minister of Magic will never employ Harry Potter!"

"There may well be a new Minister by the time Potter is ready to join."

The voices of Harry's former professors rang out from the past. But both Fudge and Scrimgeour were gone. Did the new Minister have a grudge against him, too?

Maybe it's got nothing to do with that, said a voice in his head, maybe you just have "unsatisfactory qualifications." Harry did not believe that. During the Auror exams, he had gotten decent marks on the final written test, and even scored a distinction on the practical portion. And, while he didn't like to boast, he did defeat Voldemort once and for all. Did that really count for nothing? He still could not believe that Darius Praetorian actually wrote those words, even if it hadn't been his decision. This came from someone higher up, Harry thought. But who?

"Well, if it isn't Harry Potter," said a horribly familiar, high-pitched voice. Of course, Harry thought as he clenched his fists, who else? He turned around, taking in the withered skin, iron-gray curls, and sadistic smile. Boiling hatred coursed through him like bile. She was still there. How could she still be there?

Dolores Umbridge, still employed by the Ministry of Magic, did a lot to explain the rejection.

Hermione drummed the top of her desk, extremely agitated. I swear I'm going to fire whoever approved these people for interviews, she thought in irritation. She had gone through about ten interviews, and already saw it was hopeless to find a group of interns with this generation. Did I sound so stupid in my interview? There were people who had failed their OWLs, people who had nervously brought note cards listing their qualifications and horrendous jokes, and people who had somehow never heard of the International Statute of Secrecy. It's not like I'm expecting them to know the entire thing by heart. Though, of course, Hermione herself had made a point to do so for her interview.

"Next!" she called. As the door began to creak open, she looked down at her papers, sifting through the CVs to find the next prospective candidate. "Name?" she asked, not able to find the right resume. There was no answer, as the interviewee sat in the chair. "Your name? Excu-!" she looked up, vexed. Her annoyance dissipated instantly, replaced with shock. "What are you doing here?!"