14

After Harry apparated with Remus and the Ministry aurors to the Ministry of Magic itself, and they were lead across the rather empty atrium into the rattly elevator that would lead to the Minister's office, Harry proceeded to ponder at what Ginny had said. The words pierced his eardrums with every echoing replay of it, as if she were beside him screaming it into his ear. He felt Remus' glare the entire way, but did not look sideways to show any sign of what he was thinking. The elevator eventually came to a halt on the top floor, the cool female voice that usually rang out manage to echo over Harry's thoughts and said, "Level One, Ministry of Magic Incorporate Headquarters, Ministry Quarters and Minster for Magic Head Office, watch your step and have a nice day."

Harry only half felt himself being ushered forward as he stared up at the high ceiling, gold railings held up a marble surface and inscriptions of all sorts were etched in different languages and angled in different directions, like a oversized notice board that had been overly used by every sort of International Wizengamont Convention available. When he lowered his eyes, he saw there were heaps of large desks spread across a large hall they were in, Wizards and Witches were running around as if they were in a movie in fast-forward mode. Memos flew above their heads, going in all sorts of directions and dodging anything in their way. A few zoomed into the elevator Harry and Remus had just left and flapped lazily around the light that hung in there.

One of the aurors that had accompanied them from Grimmauld Place tapped him on the shoulder, and Harry followed as they made their way along the row of desks, a couple of Wizards here and there stopped suddenly from what they were doing and stared, almost at once realising it was Harry when they saw him. He hastily flattened his fringe as they came near the end of the large hall, that he steps leading up to an over-sized arch shaped golden door that was gleaming down at them. Above the arched doorway was a wooden railing that went all the way around and carved in matching gold letters was "The Minister for Magic Head Office: Rufus Scrimgeour."

One of the aurors knocked three times then yanked at the handle and pushed it open. Remus nudged Harry forward and followed over the threshold, entering the Ministers office where Harry was sure, he'd never been in before.

Immediately what stood out was the large oak wooden desk sitting plainly in the middle of the room, a royal looking chair sat behind it but it was empty. To the left was an abnormally large bookcase that looked to have more old parchment scrolls in it than books, while to the right stood many interesting objects: some were mysterious, while some Harry was able to recognise from his days back in Dumbledore's office. Hanging from the roof was a large silver chandelier that sparkled against the sunlight pouring through the square window at the end of the room.

Here, by the long purple drapes stood Rufus Scrimgeour, Minister of Magic, his back was turned but with a lionlike mane that was slightly more greyed than Harry had seen him last, it was near impossible to mistake him for someone else. As the door behind them closed shut, Rufus turned on the spot to view who had entered: when he saw Harry, he simply beamed.

'Harry James Potter,' he said hoarsely, moving forwards with a limp around his desk to shake hands with Harry – as if making sure it was indeed him. 'You would not believe how cheerful I was to hear you were still alive; after almost seven months, why I almost toppled of my chair in surprise.'

Harry looked at the large, sturdy chair behind the Minister's desk and found that hard to believe. Nevertheless he suppressed a shrug as Rufus went on to shake Remus' hand.

'So then Weasley's daughter was found too?' Rufus asked as he moved back around his desk.

'Yes,' Remus replied. 'Arthur took her home. He said he'd be here once things were,' Remus stopped to look sideways at Harry, 'resolved.'

Rufus nodded and signalled for the two of them to take a seat each that sat the other side of his desk.

'You are close to the Weasley's, are you not Harry?' Rufus asked with a smile, pouring out three glasses of whiskey. 'You were, after all, at their house for Christmas when we first met.'

'Yes.' Harry said flatly.

When Rufus eyed him, Harry added 'Minister,' quickly.

'Well, I'm sure they will be as interested to know why you have been hiding away as I am,' Rufus said, handing them each a glass. 'From what I hear, he's been with you, Remus?'

Remus looked sideways again at Harry.

'That's correct, Minister,' Remus said. 'But he chose to distant himself from everyone else, and I felt it was not my business to intervene: besides suggesting that he owed it to himself to be recognised.'

'Quite right,' Rufus added, lifting his glass up in recognition and taking a sip. 'What –was- the purpose of distancing yourself then, Harry?'

Harry pondered this for a moment, staring down at the glass of whiskey he had been handed and searched for the right words to use.

'I'm not entirely sure,' Harry said truthfully, looking up at Rufus who seemed puzzled. 'I guess, I always wanted to let my friends know I still existed – but my self-conscious mind seemed to put up some sort of protective ring; so every time I felt like giving in, it would sort of lock my legs and disable me to advance.'

Rufus leant back and surveyed Harry as his hand scratched his chin.

'This is big news you know, Harry,' Rufus said, his brow slightly raised, 'front page news, a Daily Prophet exclusive – "Potter out of hiding; blames self for inability to come forward."'

'That's not what I said,' Harry said angrily, Rufus raised his brow higher, 'sir.'

'Harry there's no need for anger,' Rufus said coolly, sipping his whiskey, 'the Wizarding world will want to know you are alive, they will not be overly fussed that the reason you went into prolonged hiding is because you could not face your friends. In fact, you will be seen nothing short of a hero: after all, what you've managed to achieve is beyond phenomenal.'

Harry would have replied but was lost for words.

'So having said that,' Rufus said, swirling his whiskey a little, 'would you like to tell us what happened, Harry?'

'I'm sorry?' Harry was puzzled.

'Your victory,' Rufus explained, taking another sip of his drink. 'You manage to defeat the Dark Lord, without a scratch on you-'

'Actually, Minister,' Remus cut in, Rufus looked around at him, 'he didn't walk away without injury. He still has massive scaring on his back and chest: I patched him myself, actually, and despite my only resource was "Magical Medical Remedies" I must say that I did some above average work.'

'Really?' Rufus asked, sounding astonished. 'May I see?'

Harry was quietly uncomfortable about showing his torso to the Minster of Magic, and he explained this with the dark look he gave sideways at Remus. Rufus looked back and forth between them then put up a hand a shook his head.

'Never mind,' Rufus said, writing something down on a pad beside him.

Harry could not pick out what he had written, except that it was nearly a paragraph long in small, cramped writing.

'So then, Harry,' Rufus went on as Harry leant back in his seat, 'will you tell me then, how it was you managed to defeat the Dark Lord?'

'Voldemort you mean,' Harry corrected him, and Rufus winced: thankfully he did not drop his glass, 'and I'd rather not talk about it: all you need you to know, and all you need to hear is that he fell to curse from my wand.'

'You used an "Unforgivable Curse"?' Rufus asked in amazement.

'NO.' Harry said flatly.

'Come now Harry, you can admit it to me,' Rufus said, smiling, 'you will not be sent to Azkaban for using the killing curse on a killer; on the contrary – you will be given the highest honour an ordinary Wizard can receive-'

'I don't want anything,' Harry snapped, his anger was rising.

'Harry-' Remus started.

'No,' Harry hissed, seething at the thought of accepting anything from the Ministry after the way they had treated him and more significantly, Albus Dumbledore, for so many years. 'I just want to get my friends back, and carry on with my life and forget all that has happened.'

As if Harry's thoughts had jumped from his head, glided across the country and alerted the people to whom he was talking about, the door to the Minister's office opened and diverted his attention.

'Aha,' Rufus said, placing his glass on the table and standing, 'how appropriately timed.'

Arthur Weasley entered the room, looking slightly older than before if that was possible. He was followed by (Harry's heart sank) more familiar red hair and brown and bushy hair and for a flirting moment there was a stand-off as Ron and Hermione stared at him in disbelief, both looked angry and ready to yell: but it was Arthur who spoke first.

'Minister.' Arthur said, nodding.

'Weasley.' Rufus said smiling. 'All's well that ends well, yes?'

'Indeed,' Arthur agreed. 'My wife and I appreciate the Ministries help with finding our daughter.'

'Not at all, not at all,' Rufus said smiling, he looked around at Harry. 'I was just told by Harry here, that he wants things to return to normal also: he wants his friends back and he wants to continue on with his life.'

'Is that so?'

Everyone looked around at Ron, who now had his hands clenched into fists.

'Look I can explain everything,' Harry hissed, unsure if he could beat Ron in a fist match. 'Firstly I'm really sorry-'

'Sure,' interrupted Ron, whose voice seemed normal for the time being.

'Really, I didn't mean for it to be dragged out for so long,' Harry said truthfully, 'I wanted to see you guys more than anything, just I was… held back… by something… I'm not sure…'

'Well, that clears that up,' said Ron. 'It would've been really annoying if you hadn't explained yourself properly.'

Harry supposed it was a start that Ron was talking to him, but he didn't appreciate the sarcasm he got even though he most likely deserved it. He looked at Hermione who was yet to say anything, and despite the fact she had a sad and confused look on her face, it seemed quite obvious that she wanted too.

'It wasn't easy for me, either,' Harry told them; Remus made a noise that started out sounding like a laugh but he turned it into a cough and took a sip of his whiskey.

Harry ignored it.

'You can't imagine how I felt only a few days ago,' Harry said, 'when I found out you were getting married!'

'Of course, we can't possibly imagine that,' Hermione whispered, everyone turned to look at her now as she moved forward and fiddled with something in her hand. 'I just wanted to be sure it's you, Harry. You do realise you put as all through hell, don't you?'

Harry nodded. 'I know; I can't begin to be sorry.'

Harry thought it was going better than he hoped for.

'I'm sure you can start some how.'

As she got closer, he thought perhaps she was going to begin re-building their friendship with a hug… when-

SLAP!

Harry staggered backwards in surprise after Hermione had made contact across his face. Harry clutched his cheek in horror as blood began to trickle down it, no one seemed to care. Hermione gave him another filthy look, then, after fiddling with the ring on her finger so it now faced the proper way up, she tore from the room.

Ron continued to watch Harry who was holding the cut under his eye and looking for help.

'Ron?' Harry hoped he would be reasonable.

But Ron just stood staring. He said nothing, but continued to stare darkly at Harry, similar to the way he reacted in their fourth year when they had had a row about him entering the Tri-Wizard Tournament. But unlike back then, when he had been not-guilty, he wasn't quite sure he would be able to resurrect any sort of repair from his long time friend. He wished Ron would have said something though, for it felt worse that Ron just watched him. Finally-

'Don't bother showing up at the Burrow,' Ron muttered, turning to leave in silence.

There was a pause, in which Harry went over in his mind that in under two hours into letting the world know he was still alive, he had suffered a blood nose, a sore back, a cut under the eye that appeared to be still bleeding and most probably needed stitches: and worst of all, he seemed to have lost the three people nearest and dearest to him that he had been away from for so long.

The growing guilt was filling the whole of Harry's chest like some monstrous, weighty parasite, now writhing and squirming. Harry could not stand this, he could not stand being himself anymore… he had never felt more trapped inside his own body and head, never wished so intensely that he could be somebody else, anybody else…

Arthur shook his head and left the office too with no more than a nod at Rufus, acting as though both Harry and Remus were invisible and that they were merely odd looking chairs. Remus sighed and sculled the whiskey he had been given, and looked down at the desk without a word. Rufus however, seemed heartless as he began to clap slowly.

Harry rounded on him.

'Beautiful,' Rufus said, clapping some more with a smirk. 'Well handled there, Mr. Potter-'

'Oh, so were going by last name status are we now?' Harry said angrily.

'Don't blame him, Harry,' Remus looked up at Harry, 'you knew that was coming, you know it was unavoidable: and you know you deserved it.'

All Harry could do was suppressed a sigh and admit defeat.

The werewolf was right. Damn it, he was always right: all the warnings he had given, or rather the suggestions which had been so obvious, any normal person would have reacted to them and Harry felt stupid to have ignored them. After all, seven months was a long time, long enough for some people to get over a death or a disappearance for something similar and it seemed that Remus gotten it spot on; "the longer you leave this, the worse it will become."

'Well then,' said Scrimgeour (now that we are going by surnames), 'if you wish not to delude just yet what happened to the Dark Lord, then we shall get on with the official business and dealing with the media?'

Harry said very little as he was taken into another part of Level One to get his "Order or Merlin, First Class" in which his name was placed in a log book, as well as a explanatory description why he received it and finally his signature. Then there was a call up by Scrimgeour for a media conference in which, again, Harry said very little and asked only to be left alone with the respect of privacy he felt he deserved.

'You do realise, you will need to tell people what happened that night eventually,' Remus said as they finally returned to Remus' Lodge, 'I myself am happy enough to know you are alive, rather than to put you through telling me: but the public will want to, Harry, they will want to know.'

Harry shrugged. 'I might think about it.'

Remus gave him an odd look but said nothing.

'Night.'

Harry skipped dinner and retreated to his room wanting to be, as he had been for the last seven months and will continue to be, very much alone.