Alright, alright, I admit, I haven't updated in about a year. Okay, so it hasn't been that long, but it's been a LONG time. I'm sorry about that. I hope you don't hate me for making you wait and I hope you haven't given up on me, 'cause I'll probably write more often now that school's out. Maybe a chapter every other week. If I don't, send me annoying e-mails every day and it'll probably get done.

Chapter 11

The New Minister

"And so that's where I'm going."

"Propero Luminarium?" Hermione said in awe. "That's an Evanescent Spell, isn't it?"

"What's an Evanescent Spell?" Ron asked.

Harry was sitting at a table with Hermione and Ron, holding a whispered conversation. Their Fizzywinks looked on with passing interest, having sworn not to tell anything. Harry had lugged the books over to their table, where he had found Ron flipping through a Quidditch history book and Hermione deeply immersed in an enormous book called Explaining the Unexplainable. They had listened in wonderment while he told them what he had found, and what he was planning on doing.

"They're… they're five incredibly powerful spells that no one really knows the extent of. They're supposed to do really amazing things if you know how to control them, but no one really does, so they're avoided. The few scientists who experiment with them are usually considered crackpots at best. Praeter Excessum, Amoria, Gaudium, Admiratio are the other ones."

"Yeah, but what do they do?"

"No one's sure. Praeter Excessum means Beyond Death in Latin, Amor, the root of Amoria, means love, Gaudium is joy, and Admiratio is wonder. I don't know what their effects are, but they're incredibly powerful. Like this passage says, no one who returns from this world of Swift Light is ever quite the same."

Harry changed the subject. "Hermione, what are you looking at?"

She shook her head. "Nothing, just a bit of light reading, that's all."

"Light reading?" Ron asked in amazement. "Hermione, most of us couldn't read that book if our lives depended on it."

Hermione smiled slightly. "It's a good thing I'm your friend, then. Are you two ready to go? Because I can just check this out and send it back by owl later."

"You'll need about seven owls to carry that thing," Ron said matter-of-factly. "C'mon, let's go."

They picked up their respective Fizzywinks, who had started a conversation about preening, and carried them to the front desk. The librarian looked up kindly at them.
"Done? Would you like to check that out, young lady?"

"Yes ma'am," Hermione said eagerly.

"Just put down your name, address, and the title of the book here, dear. It'll be due on August thirty-first, the day before you return to school. My, that's an awfully big book. Good luck reading it. And you can all just put your Fizzywinks back on the counter."

They did so. "Goodbye, sirs and miss," they said as one. Spreading their wings, they dived under the desk.

Ron led the way out of the library and into the lifts. Harry was feeling sort of dazed. "I need to talk to someone," he said softly, as soon as the lift's only other occupant left. "Someone who would know something about this."

"Flitwick might," Ron suggested. "Or McGonagall."

"But then they'll want to know why I'm curious." He sighed. "I wish I could talk to Dumbledore."

Hermione smiled, but her eyes were sad. "I'm sorry, Harry."

The lift doors opened, and they stepped out along with the soaring memos. Harry, in the lead, rounded the corner and slammed into someone.

Papers went flying and at least two people ended up on the ground, Harry included. There was a shout and Harry found himself lying dazedly at the foot of several tall wizards, one of whom he knew, though he was smart enough to show no sign of it.

The other man who had fallen picked himself up. Ron offered Harry a hand to help him up.

The man was busy straightening his robes. He had raven-black, sleek hair and cold gray eyes. His robes were black and impeccably clean. Harry, flustered, said, "I'm sorry, sir, I didn't mean to."

The man looked up, and when he did, the scar on Harry's forhead seared with pain. Their eyes met, and Harry knew who this must be. Domohov Bokonovsky, the new Minister of Magic. The Death Eater.

Harry's gaze hardened as he gazed into the man's cold eyes. His scar was burning but he ignored it. The other two men with him- one of whom was Kingsley Shacklebolt- were surveying him coolly. Kingsley winked at him, but Harry didn't see. He couldn't help but think of a cool night, more than two years ago, a night that had emblazoned itself like a living nightmare in his mind. He vividly remembered being gagged and bound to the tombstone of Lord Voldemort's father looking fearfully around at the hooded, masked figures surrounding him. He had never seen this man's face, but somehow he knew, beyond any doubt, that he had been there, watching Voldemort torture him. Harry hated this man.

"Harry Potter."

The man's voice was deep and cold, and it sent a tingle down Harry's spine. He averted his gaze. "Yes sir. I'm sorry, sir."

"Don't be. It was as much my fault as yours." His words were friendly, but his words were icy and dangerous. A quick glance told him that Kingsley was worried about what either might do. The rational part of Harry's mind had to fight hard for control; if he got angry now and attacked the Minister of Magic, it would be disastrous to both him and the Order of the Phoenix.

"Pleased to meet you, Mr. Potter," the Minister said smoothly. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have business to attend. Good day."

He swept past him briskly. Kingsley, slightly behind his companions, gave Harry a brief squeeze on the shoulder as he passed.

They stood there for several long moments, Harry quivering slightly and Ron and Hermione looking anxiously on. He drew in a few deep breaths. "Come on," he said after a while. "We should be going."

They walked swiftly to the main hall, and without further ado, Apparated to the Burrow. Mrs. Weasley smiled when they entered. "I've just finished making dinner. Ron, would you call everyone? Harry and Hermione can get up to the table."

After a hearty dinner of baked potatoes and honey-glazed ham, Harry, Ron and Hermione retreated up to Ron's room. As soon as the door was shut, Harry spoke softly. "That was the Minister of Magic, and he was definitely a Death Eater. My scar hurt when I looked at him. And he was at… he was at the graveyard."

Ron's eyes widened, but he didn't say anything. Hermione looked concerned. "Harry," she said slowly, "you must not do anything rash. I know that he saw you… saw you tortured and probably laughed about it, but anything you do could mess things up for the Order."

He lowered his gaze. "I know."

Ron opened the window and leaned against the frame, staring out at the night sky. A moment later, he stepped back hurriedly, and Hedwig soared in, followed closely by three tawny barn owls. Hedwig carried only a dead rat clasped in her beak, but the others all carried yellow envelopes stamped with the Hogwarts' crest. Hedwig flapped up to her cage, and the school owls landed on their respective recipients' shoulders.

"It's our school letters," Hermione said wonderingly. "They're early this year."

"Well, earlier than last year. McGonagall is on top of things," Ron said, ripping his open.

Harry's was thicker than the others, and he was surprised that he even got one, as he was going to be a teacher instead of a student. He opened his as well. The first parchment was a letter from McGonagall, thanking him for accepting the post. As he read it, he shook his head. "I still can't believe it," he said. "I'm going to be the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

Hermione smiled.

Another sheet contained his instructions. He could ride to the school on the Hogwarts' Express, even though teachers didn't usually do so, and would only be required to sit at the staff table for feasts. His office would be the one that had recently been vacated by Severus Snape (Harry wrinkled his nose), he was allowed in Gryffindor Tower, and, if he wished, could stay in his old dormitory.

Harry sighed. "Pity Malfoy isn't going to be there," he said, scanning the letter. "I'm allowed to give detentions, dock points, take away privileges, give extra homework… but there's always Crabbe and Goyle, I suppose…"

Hermione looked stern, and she opened her mouth to say something. He intervened quickly. "I'm joking, Hermione, gimme a break. Do you really think I'd abuse my power like that?"

She raised her eyebrows. "Well…"

He scowled. "That was a rhetorical question."

Hermione dug once more into her envelope, and an expression of surprise flashed across her face, quickly turning into delight.

"What?" Harry asked quickly.

She pulled out a badge, which had the Hogwarts' crest emblazoned on it. Ron and Harry gaped.

"Head Girl?" Ron stuttered.

"Are you surprised?" Harry asked, though he was completely surprised himself. He hadn't even thought about it.

Ron's face lit up when he found he didn't have one. "Finally!" he said, pummeling the air with his fist. "No more prefect duties!"

Harry grinned. He was with his two best friends, not worrying for the moment about Voldemort or the new Minister of Magic. For the first time all day, he was happy.