The Will

Present

Harry Apparated to the Ministry of Magic and went to the Auror Headquarters. Some people looked around to see who had just Apparated.

"Bloody hell!" screamed a witch who was wearing a rather large hat. "It's Harry Potter!"

People suddenly flew out of their cubicles to see if it really was Harry. When they got a look at him, they nearly stampeded him.

"Mr. Potter, where have you been all this time?"

"Is it true you went off to Switzerland to fight a seven headed beast that was on the loose?"

"Why did you leave without telling anyone?"

"Are you really Harry Potter?"

"I thought you were supposed to be dead…"

Harry managed to push his way out of the crowd that was rapidly getting bigger as people from other departments learned that "The Chosen One" had returned. Harry was thankful that he had his own office, so that he could close his door on everyone. His office was quite large, with its own fireplace, and there were many dark magic detectors flying and flashing all over the place. It looked like someone had kept everything exactly the way it was when Harry had left for France. When Harry had first become an Auror, he had argued against getting an office for himself, because he didn't want to look superior to the other Aurors, but he finally agreed to have his own office when he realized people wouldn't leave him alone if he didn't have a door to close on them.

When the crowed finally thinned away, Harry had the courage to stick his head out of his office door and call, "Does anyone know where Margaret is?"

Margaret was Harry assistant, and she was a very valuable and trustworthy friend to have. A skinny woman in her mid-twenties suddenly appeared out of nowhere. She skipped excitedly to Harry's office, and closed the door behind her.

"Harry!" she said. "When I heard you'd come back… Oh I was so happy! I thought my boss had died or something when you disappeared without a note or anything. I mean, with you making your will the same night…"

"I'm not your boss, Margaret, " Harry mumbled.

"Of course you are!" Margaret said. "How about a nice to see you too, Margaret?"

Harry smirked. "It's great to see you, Margaret. I didn't know how long I'd be in France…"

"France?" Margaret asked, astounded. "You were in France?" Harry nodded.

"Wow…"

"Let's get off the subject of where I was, shall we?" Harry didn't want to talk about what he had been doing on his trip. "Margaret, do you know a girl by the name of Ginny? Red hair, very pretty..."

"Well, of course I know her. I mean, I was your witness when you wrote your will."

"What does my will have anything to do with her?" Harry asked suddenly.

"Er…" Margaret was a bit dumbfounded. "You, er, kind of left everything to her…"

"Did I?" Harry's eyes almost popped out of their sockets.

Flashback

Harry had just left the Burrow, the image of Ginny crumpled up is his arms and crying still on his mind. He wanted to stay with her, but he knew he couldn't.

He had Apparated to the Ministry of Magic. It was already evening, but he was hoping that Margaret would still be at her office. She was.

"Margaret!" Harry exclaimed.

"Harry," Margaret said. "I thought you were going to take the day off today. And God knows, you need a vacation…"

"Oh, well, I'm just glad you're here, Margaret. I wanted to write my will."

"Now?" Margaret asked. "At this time of hour?"

"Well, all right," she said, when Harry nodded his head.

Harry and Margaret were talking to the guy who wrote the wills. He was a bald man named Dr. Kute Fairywings, and he was pointing his wand to a piece of blank parchment.

"Are you absolutely sure you want to leave everything to this Ginny Weasley?"

"Yes, Mr. Fairywings," Harry said, for the millionth time.

"But don't you have any family you want to leave your belongings to?"

"I want to leave all my belongings in the possession of Ginny Weasley."

Harry looked at Margaret, who was rolling her eyes at Mr. Fairywings.

"But, Mr. Potter, that means that you are going to leave three houses to this measly little girl. Not to mention everything else such as your broomstick, all your magical creatures, your dog shelter, your money…"

"Wait a minute," Harry said, taken aback. "I own a dog shelter?"

Mr. Fairywings consulted another piece of parchment that he had with him, and said, "That's what this says."

"Right…"

"Anyway, as I was saying," Mr. Fairywings continued. "Your money…yes, yes… You have stored in Gringotts one million galleons, seven hundred seventy-nine sickles, and nine hundred knuts. That means that all together, with all your other possessions, have nearly two point five million galleons…"

Present

Harry was still staring at Margaret dumfounded. He of course didn't remember leaving all his things to Ginny, but now he knew that they must have been closer than he thought.