Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling. I make no claims to ownership.
"Mr. Potter!"
At the call of his name, Harry quickened his pace on the way to the lifts. People would panic if he outright ran through the atrium, but there was no way he was giving another interview today. Kingsley usually arranged press conferences for those. On his own, Harry tried to escape any reporter chasing him.
"Mr. Potter, the Minister is looking for you!" the same voice called.
Harry paused with his foot over the threshold of the lift. The woman inside looked at him expectantly and he shook his head at her before turning to the frazzled-looking man following him. As he heard the lift doors close behind him, Harry internally sighed. If Kingsley wanted him, then it was most likely for another publicity stunt.
"Does he want me immediately?" Harry asked.
He hoped the man would say no. The ice cream had been delicious, but Harry was getting the beginnings of a headache from a lack of real food. All he wanted to do was return to his desk, eat the sandwich Kreacher had prepared for him, and pretend he was doing something constructive with his time.
Unfortunately, Harry had bad luck.
"Yes, now," the man said crisply. His robes were lined in purple, marking him as part of the administrative staff. He looked thoroughly irritated to be running errands. "He expects you in his office as soon as possible."
This time Harry didn't repress his sigh. He nodded to the man and turned for the stairs. Kingsley's office overlooked the atrium, so he was probably watching from the window to see if Harry tried to run away.
"Hello, Harry," said Kingsley as he entered. "How's the family?"
"They're good," Harry replied. "Teddy's learned the word 'no', to Andromeda's utter horror."
Kingsley's lips quirked up. "I was actually referring to the Weasleys, but that's good to hear, too." Then he folded his hands on top of the desk, a clear sign that they were done with the pleasantries. "Is it true that you visited young Malfoy in the detainment cells?"
Harry decided to get this over with quickly. He took a deep breath and said, "Yes, sir. Hermione's going to be his lawyer."
The Minister shook his head. "She's a paralegal, Harry. Until she passes the benchmark test, she'll only be doing the research for cases."
Harry had not known that. He trusted Hermione to find a good representative, though. Failing that, they might be able to push Malfoy's trial back until Hermione was a certified lawyer.
"We'll figure it out, sir," he replied with a shrug.
For a long moment, Kingsley studied him with a furrow brow. Harry sat straighter in his chair, trying to appear confident. When Kingsley finally spoke, he did so slowly, as though he were choosing his words carefully. "Harry, is Mrs. Malfoy threatening you?"
"Of course not, sir," Harry said calmly. "I'm helping her because she helped me."
Kingsley's brows drew even closer. He had not been labeled the best Auror for nothing. Harry tried to keep his features smooth, ignoring his rapid heartbeat. He and Ron would figure out what Narcissa had on Ginny soon enough. After all, they were experts at solving mysteries.
"If that's all, sir," Harry said, still in the same even tone, "there's another thing I want to talk about. Ginny wants Snape to get an Order of Merlin."
To his surprise, Kingsley let out a single, disbelieving laugh. His smile only faded when he saw that Harry was serious. Then his expression became grave. His eyes were dark as he said, "That's impossible, Harry. It would cause an uproar."
"But he saved me and Ginny," Harry protested. "The students would have died without him."
"If Snape was half as clever as he claimed," Kingsley said in a dark, serious tone, "then the students wouldn't have suffered at all. They were raped, Harry, boys and girls alike. Tortured. Turned against each other. Snape might have saved them from death, but he did not save them from suffering."
"But that was the Carrows doing that –"
Kingsley raised an eyebrow. "Did Snape try to stop them?"
Harry's cheeks burned as he looked down at his hands. He'd seen the students in the Room of Requirement. Many of them, like Neville, still bore scars even now. After all, the Carrows had used Dark magic to torture the students, and most of those spells left permanent disfigurements. Michael Corner had one hand removed to prevent a curse from spreading to the rest of his body.
"Tell Ginny to be satisfied with Snape's portrait," Kingsley said sternly. "I can do nothing more for her."
Harry nodded silently and stood up from the chair. Dread snaked into his heart as he headed for the door. He was certain that Ginny would insist upon naming their son after Snape now. There really wasn't any other way to honor the man she considered a hero.
The press will be over us when he's born, Harry thought miserably. Now more than ever, he hoped they didn't have a second son. For a brief moment, he even considered finding a way to ensure he had nothing but daughters, but then he decided that would be unfair to Ginny.
His feet took him to the Auror Headquarters by memory. Most of the rookies were missing, including Ron and Neville, so they must be out on another mission. Harry wasn't ever allowed to join them unless the Ministry considered it safe for him. Kingsley wasn't about to risk losing his poster boy.
After a mediocre lunch, Harry decided to bother Hermione. She was likely to send him away if he was too distracting, but right now all he wanted was some company.
The Department of Magical Law Enforcement was large and much like a maze. Harry had to wander the corridor for a long time before he finally found the door to the Wizengamot Administration Services. When he opened the door, he nearly walked into two blonde women who stood on the other side. One of them looked vaguely familiar, and it took Harry moment to recognize her golden blonde hair. Her green eyes flashed when she saw him blocking the way out of the office.
"Excuse us," she said with forced politeness.
Harry side-stopped to let them pass by him. "Sorry," he said, but she ignored him as she pulled the younger woman out the door.
"I told you it wouldn't work," he heard the other woman mutter.
"Not now, Astoria," snapped the woman with green eyes.
Once the door had closed behind them, Harry turned to find everyone in the outer office area watching him. He stuck his hands in his pockets and shuffled his feet. "Er, d'you know where I can find Hermione Granger?"
"Through there, Mr. Potter," said the secretary, pointing to another door.
People started moving again once she'd spoken. With fewer eyes on him now, Harry navigated his way to the door labelled Attorney Brocklehurst, with Paralegal Granger in smaller letters underneath it. No one answered when he knocked on the door, so after another attempt he opened it and peeked inside the room. He could barely see Hermione through the stacks of books and papers on her desk.
"Can I come in?" he asked.
Hermione didn't answer, so he repeated the question. At last she looked up, her eyes wide she saw him standing there. "Oh, Harry! Sorry, but I'm really busy right now –"
"I'll just sit in the corner," he said quickly. "It's just, well, everyone's gone on the Lestrange case and I have nothing to do…"
"The Lestrange case?" Hermione looked alarmed. "Ron said he had a mission today. They wouldn't have a rookie on the case, right?"
"He's fine," Harry assured her. "Rabastan's been on the run for a year, and I doubt he'd show up at an old crime scene. Anyway, I also wanted to ask if you want to see the orphanage this Saturday. I'm bringing Teddy, too, if Andromeda agrees."
Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. "I know what you're doing, Harry Potter, and I'm still very much worried." Then she let a low, frustrated sigh. "But there's nothing I can do right now."
She fixed him with another shrewd look as she pointed to the only other chair available.
"You can sit there, but you can't say or touch anything, and if my boss comes in, you'd better turn on the Potter charm."
Harry saluted her. "Sir, yes sir!"
"And you'll tell me more about the Refuge," she added. "I'd very much like to go with you."
"But I'm not supposed to talk," Harry said cheekily.
Hermione balled up a blank sheet of parchment and threw it at him, which Harry could admit he deserved.