Well, here's the second chapter. I hope you like it. Not much action yet, but just wait, the fighting's gonna be awesome :) Lot's of character introductions here, so make sure you keep up. I'm a newish author, so…. REEEEEEEEVEIW! Go on, you know you want to.

Story in 3…2…1…

Harry was in the auror ward of St Mungo's recovering from his burns at the hands of the unknown explosion. Percy Weasley, his officer at the auror office, was visiting his bed with some bad news.

"So, what have you got to tell me?" Harry said to Percy, frowning at the sombre tone of his superior.

"Well, the officers have been reviewing your performance, in accordance with the testimony of on Melissa Lewis…" Percy began, hiding his face by looking away and talking in an emotionless voice as if giving a report.

"You don't have to talk to me like that Perce! We're friends…right?" Harry said, alarmed. Percy hung his head. He gulped.

"Okay Harry, basically, you've been dropped as squad leader. That woman from your squad, Lewis, is the standby leader, but she's due to be replaced by the Falconer-Hawthorn boy, Dennis."

Harry went rigid with shock. He had worked so hard for that job, he had given everything… it was going so well….

"No…" he said, hoarsely, "Perce…no…"

Percy looked even more bashful and awkward. He pushed his glasses up his nose and turned away from Harry.

"I'm sorry… It wasn't my decision. Personally, I would've given you another chance. I mean, only one failure…it was your first time as well, and we don't even know all the circumstances."

Percy turned round again, and patted Harry on the shoulder. Harry gazed down the ward, eyes unfocused. He had been expecting something like this, really, but still, it was a shock. He had never dreamed he would lose his leader job after just one slip-up!

"And Dennis…why Dennis?" Harry cried suddenly, voice cracking, "Why not Felix? Or Melissa? Even Cudge, just not that stuck up…" Harry tailed off and looked at his sheets, which were still as crisp and white as the day he had been put in the ward. There was not much to take his mind of things there, and so his gaze moved on, searching the room for something distracting. He concentrated on Percy's glasses, which were glinting in the soft glow of the St Mungos lamps.

Percy knelt in close to Harry's ear. Harry could hear his sharp breathing and see the freckles on his serious face.

"If you ask me, and this is in strict confidentiality, mind, if you ask me, Falconer only got the promotion because of his father's contacts in the ministry. The top brass were just looking for an excuse to get him to the squad leader's job, so he can proceed to being an officer as quickly as possible. It's ugly, but that's how it is when you get high up in the ministry." Percy said. Harry was spluttering with rage.

"That's…that's wrong! I thought Kingsley was putting a stop to things like this. I thought it was changing!" Harry said, thinking of the time Kngsley had taken Harry aside, as a guest for defeating Voldemort, and explained his grand plan.

Percy sighed

"Kingsley's just one man. Most of the top people at the ministry are old dogs used to perpetual power, who were always ambivalent to Voldemort's policies as long as they stayed in charge. That's changing, but very slowly. Kingsley needs all the allies he can get to bring down just a few of the old guard, and he's having trouble finding them. Everyone is starting to forget just how bad Voldemort was, and now he's left us with this economic hole, well, people can start to blame Kingsley." Percy said, gloomily staring out of a window.

"But that's ridiculous, it was Voldemort who got us into this mess! Who wouldn't help Kingsley?" Harry said, trying to get up and once again falling back in pain. Even as he said this, Harry knew Percy was right. Even with Kingsley as minister, the ministry still felt like a very old place. Even Dolores Umbridge was never fully discredited, she was just deposed to a minor assistant's role in a small department, and Harry himself planned to attempt getting her sacked, but he didn't yet have the authority or time.

"You'd be surprised who wouldn't join him." muttered Percy. "Listen, me and dad started this group, a bit like the Order, I suppose, we call ourselves The Reformers. If you joined, I'm pretty sure we could get a big popularity boost." he peered hopefully at Harry, face shining.

Harry looked up at him.

"Er…what does this group do, exactly?" Harry said, wincing as a particularly sharp stab of pain hit him. Percy looked delighted, and cleared his throat, clearly about to launch into one of his famous lectures. "And keep it short, please." Harry added, as more pain jumped up his arm. Percy looked a bit crestfallen, but perked up again as he started speaking.

"We are a group opposed to pro pure blood laws, anti muggle laws, and the corruption and petty bribery that runs riot in the ministry! We believe Voldemort caused nothing but terrible things for this country, and do not accept any nostalgia for his rule! We are against the continuing power of the old guard of the ministry, who accepted Voldemort's policies and did nothing to get rid of him, and are now in positions of great influence! We support and help the Prime Minister, Kingsley Shacklebolt, in all his endeavours that are the same as our aims! We…"

"Yeah, I think I've got it." Harry said, just as Percy was about to get into full flow, flailing his arms around as he made each point. Percy now looked a little put out. "But it sounds like a pretty nice little group. Who are the members again?" Harry said, thinking it would be good to actually join something opposing the old ministry.

Percy looked at his feet.

"Well… at the moment it's only me dad and a few guys from our offices we've managed to convince. So many ministry people who would have helped us were in the order and…" Percy trailed off, choking up for a fraction of a second, and then instantly recovering. Harry knew he had been thinking of Mad-eye and Tonks, high profile Aurors who would have almost certainly signed up. But of course now... Harry blocked out the memory. He didn't need to think of the Final Battle just now, he had enough problems as it was.

"Listen Perce, your group sounds great, just what the ministry needs. I'm in, don't worry." Harry said, more forcefully than he had intended. He clenched his fists, and breathed deeply to try and calm himself down.

"That's great!" Percy said, beaming from ear to ear. "When you're out of here I'll get you to some meetings! And you can convince others…with you on our side they'll be no stopping us!" He laughed, and it was the first truly happy sound Harry had heard in days. It was a relief.

"I'm glad I can make such a difference." Harry said, half mockingly.

"Hey, come on, you're the boy who lived! Twice! Everyone loves you." Percy said, practically dancing with joy.

"Didn't stop them throwing me off the leader's job." Harry muttered. Percy's face fell slightly.

"Yeah…well." He said gloomily, looking at his watch. "Merlin, is that the time!" he said, as he saw the time. "It's been good seeing you Harry, but I've got to run. Bye."

He turned to go. "One more thing," he said, fishing around in his pockets, "here it is. It's the formal letter for your resignation as squad leader. Right, sorry, see you, got to run."

He tossed the letter into Harry's hand, and hurried off over the ward, his smart black shoes echoing on the hard floor.

"Cheers." Said Harry, so quiet Percy couldn't hear him. "Thanks for the letter."

Harry slumped back in his bed and laid there, body aching, until again he drifted off to sleep.

The days drifted by. His burns specialist turned up, an excitable wizard called Healer Larkrow., who reminded Harry strongly of Professor Flitwick. He had doused Harry's burns in what seemed like a million potions and casts, and after all the treatment, Harry was feeling much better. For short periods he could walk around the hospital, before collapsing yet again into his hateful white hospital bed as the pain got the better of him.

Once he even saw Gilderoy Lockhart, who was more or less recovered now, and still popped in to say hello to the healers. He was much more modest these days, and complimented Harry on his recent achievements, saying "You've nearly done as much as me, it's astounding!"

Harry had also been able to catch up with the other members of the squad, and he had seen both Felix and Dennis (although his visit to Dennis was short to the point of rudeness.) Cudge was still in a bad way and there didn't seem to be much chance of getting to visit him. But Felix was feeling fine, much the same as Harry, and Dennis, to Harry's rather guilty disappointment, was also holding up perfectly well. Harry had also been visited by a few officials in the Auror office, giving their condolences on his demotion. Whenever Harry was thinking about his lost postt, which was most of the time, since he spend so long just lying in his bed, he grew steadily more depressed, and struggled to find something else to take up his time.

After about four days of boredom and resentment, Harry finally had a chance to do something that wasn't part of the crushing hospital routine. His old friend and companion, Ron Weasley, dropped in to see him. It was the first time they had met in what seemed like ages, since Ron had been away on a mission from the Auror squad. Ron had, like Harry, signed up for the squad immediately after the battle of Hogwarts, but, unlike Harry, he had struggled with the training and very nearly failed the Auror entrance exam.

He had messed up Concealment and Disguise, failing to place a disillusionment charm on even himself, let alone the examiner that the participants had to make invisible. And he was shouted out in pain and given himself away in Cracking and Decoding, when he had stubbed himself in the eye with his own wand.

But Ron was still an excellent dueller, and had a good mind during trouble, attributes his search for the Horcruxes had almost certainly brought out in him. And he said he was doing okay in his squad, although the day when he would be promoted seemed to be far off.

But Ron was okay with this, saying "I'm just chuffed they didn't throw me out the second they even saw me, let alone once I'm doing proper work." and he seemed content to just sit in his role of frontline Auror. Harry himself wished he could be so settled. He had been hit with a burning ambition the minute he stepped in the golden halls of the ministry.

Ron came bounding up the stairs of the ward at around midday, four days after the explosion. He had a tan, as it was nearly the middle of summer, and looked healthy and fit. He was grinning, in a consolidating way, it has to said, but all the same, he looked perfectly happy at the mess Harry had got himself into. In fact, nothing very much seemed to make Ron unhappy these days. Harry assumed he too must be plagued by the memories of those lost to Voldemort, at least some of the time. But he never showed it, Hermione seemed to have dispelled those feelings. Harry wondered how he did it.

"Harry, mate, haven't seen you in a while" Ron said, "feels great to be back, great to be back." Ron beamed at Harry, looking around the ward with an air of a tourist visiting a museum. "Nice place." he added, looking back at Harry, who had sat up in his bed as Ron had entered.

"Excuse me if I'm not quite as bouncy as you are, but I've got a lot on my mind at the moment." Harry said. He had been feeling pretty bad that afternoon, and didn't feel like getting excited about Ron turning up, happy though he was to see him.

"No worries mate!" Ron said, choosing to ignore Harry's sarcastic tone. He cast his eyes around Harry's bedside. "Us Aurors really get the VIP treatment, don't we? This place is great!" he said, waving his arms to encompass the whole room.

"Speak for yourself. I've been stuck here for a week and the novelties worn off." Harry said, rubbing his arm where a potion was stinging

"Cheer up, mate, come on, it's not that bad!" Ron said, bounding around Harry, trying to inject some life into the conversation by flapping the hands around as he made each point. Harry found it slightly irritating. He knew Ron was just trying to make him feel better, but if Ron was in his position, what the hell would he be doing? Harry steadily grew more resentful as he stared up at Ron's rather forced grin, until finally he cracked.

"I've lost my bloody job, my bloody girlfriend, I feel like crap, and my whole squads stuck in hospital. Whoops, did I say my squad? I mean Dennis's squad. Hah, just saying that makes me sick. Don't you get it? I'm not going to feel better with a few nice words!" Harry shouted, as loud as he could with his damaged throat, glaring up at Ron's slowly morphing face. A minute earlier it had been glazed and beaming. Now it was somewhere in between morbid and sheepish. Ron sat on Harry's bed, careful to not crush Harry's leg, which was hidden under the blindingly white sheets.

"Listen, I'm sorry, but you can't expect me to… be depressed just because you are. I've got too much to smile about!" Ron said, a twitching smile pushing its way through his sorrowful expression. Harry decided to change the subject, forcing his anger until he could manage it. He scratched his arm again, the sharp redness becoming pale as he applied pressure.

"How's Hermione doing?" he said, a hint of bitterness in his voice. Ron either didn't realise, or ignored it.

"Pretty good!" Ron said, glad at the abrupt shift in conversation. "She just loves the Department of Mysteries. She was born to do research, she can't get enough of it!"

"But she can't tell you what she's doing, right?" Harry said, sitting up a little.

"Yeah, there is that." Ron said. "But she let me in on a few things; it's not a binding law. But on some areas they have to get a tongue tying curse, its crazy! Just think…Hermione knowing loads of things we don't. It makes such a change."

Harry laughed at that. He was feeling a bit better, no matter how much he wanted to sulk. He looked Ron in the eye.

"How's Fred…and…you know…" Harry knew this subject would be uncomfortable for both of them, but pressed on. "Are they holding up all right?"

As predicted, Ron shifted around and shrugged.

"Well, Fred is doing pretty bad," Ron said, touching on the easy subject first, "He still doesn't make any jokes. He barely runs the Wheezes any more. Once in a while he still comes up with a good idea, but less people go in there now. It's just not as fun a place to be. People are bored with the same old stuff, you know, skiving snackboxes, that stuff was out of date months ago. Can't blame them myself, it's not as good in there."

Ron sighed and stared into the distance. "He wants to get his act together, but it's so hard for him….his twin…I feel so bad for him." Ron paused, not moving, "Perce still visits him all the time, he's the best at helping him. Funny how that turned out… I can't see Fred recovering his old personality. The best we can hope for is that he pulls himself together and gets on with life. I think he can. He must have some of his old spirit left in the tank…But it's hard to see, sometimes."

Ron broke off. He wrung his hands and started jigging his leg up and down. Harry waited for him to start, letting the awkwardness pass him by. "Well..." he began, and Harry cut into him,

"For gods sake, get to it!"

Ron gave a start.

"Right. Ginny." Despite Harry's outburst he stopped again, looking at Harry. At Harry's sharp look, he started up again quickly "Well, I think she hates living with Fred, though she never says it to his face. She misses the old him too much. She helps out a lot in the shop. She's still a clever witch, she can design all the new tricks pretty well. She's nothing on the old Fred and George combo, though… And she still wants to be journalist, she's started this little Diagon Alley magazine, saying where all the good new shops are, that sort of thing. I think it just about breaks even, so it's just a hobby at the moment. But she seems to be sort of happy with outbreaks of sadness. To me anyway. On the outside she' s the same Ginny we know and…" he broke off at love and grinned a little sheepishly, "yeah…love, but she seems kind of distant sometimes. She must still think about you mate…She never really got over breaking up with you…."

Inwardly, Harry had been jumping for joy as soon as Ron said 'still thinks about you' but he told himself not to get his hopes up. Ginny wouldn't have left if she wasn't determined to get rid of him…he knew her too well. He would have to sit it out. At the moment he couldn't see the light at the end of the tunnel…but he knew it was there, it had to be….he wouldn't let everything go wrong, sometimes, things just had to be right…

"It's okay; you don't have to say any more." Harry said to Ron, trying to smile. Ron sighed with relief and visibly relaxed, his shoulders slumping and his form contorting into a smoother shape.

"Don't get your hopes up though," he added, "after all you did…she still hates you…"

Harry collapsed. He knew this was true, but still, coming baldly out of Ron's mouth, it hurt. He suddenly felt renewed coldness for Ron. He knew none of this was Ron's fault, but still, he couldn't stand the sight of him sitting there without a care in the world.

"I need some sleep." Harry muttered. Ron was taken aback by the sudden change in atmosphere.

"Ah…okay, I wasn't, I mean, I didn't want to put you down…" He stammered.

"Yeah, it's okay, fine..." Harry said, and rolled over away from Ron.

"Well, see you…" said Ron, as though tiptoeing around a smoking bomb.

"Bye." said Harry, voice muffled as he talked into his sheet. He heard Ron's footsteps, like Percy's, as he walked off down the ward. He didn't feel remotely like sleeping. He sat up in his bed and brewed over in a haze of depression. Later he had more potions to take, and more ministry officials to get visited by. Not many people were allowed clearance to this ward, so he didn't get to see all he people he would have liked.

Once he had gotten strong enough, he spend the rest of his time sitting and talking with Felix, who was due to be discharged a day before Harry. A lot of the time they talked about magic, and of the latest ideas Felix had for his charms. Harry would lecture Felix endlessly about duelling theory, but he just laughed and said that duelling was for uneducated people. Soon Barn had woken up and Harry and Felix went to visit him before they both left (Harry had been deemed fit enough to go, after all, at the same time as Felix. Dennis was to be left in hospital another day.) Barn was feeling pretty bad.

"My arm hurts like hell." he moaned, as Harry and Felix walked in. "And so does most of the rest of me!" he added.

"Sorry, friend," Felix laughed, "but I couldn't get my counter charm over to you in time. Bad Luck."

"What I want to know," Barn said, screwing up his face, "is who made that bloody

Fireball in the first place!"

"Ah, that's where we have no idea, my friend!" Felix said, his blue eyes smiling. Felix had always been a handsome boy, with his perfect blonde hair and blue eyes. But he was very distant with some people, due to his high intelligence, and found it hard to make friends. But in the Auror squad, he had found his perfect place, where everyone was his equal, or at least near to it. Harry had found him a loyal person, whose heart was in the right place, and had always liked him. But he could occasionally act as if you were a total idiot. It was very confusing. Harry, Felix and Barn had a quick discussion about the origins of the fireball, but Harry and Felix couldn't wait to be discharged, and, itching to go, wrapped up the talk as quickly as possible.

Harry and Felix nearly jogged down the corridors of St Mungos. Harry turned to Felix, panting a little.

"You…don't blame me, do you? For this mess we're in?" Harry said, searching Felix's face. Felix laughed.

"Not at all! That fireball was very powerful magic, how were we supposed to work out it was there. You were fine!" Felix said, grinning. Harry gave a little smile too. They trotted down a flight of golden steps, flashing past people coming up.

"That's good!" Harry said, pushing open a door in front of him. He was met by the sight of the corridoor opening up into a huge open space. He could see the exit to their prison, and beamed for the first time in a while. He practically skipped, Felix alongside him. "Oh god, the outside!" Harry cried, making his way down into the St Mungos entrance hall. He ran the last stretch, Felix laughing along behind him, and he burst through the fake shop wall with a rush of freedom.

He was out.

I'l say again: please Reveiw! Free cookies and sex (if your're underage, then milk) if you do!