Chapter 19 – New Alliances

Dudley and Penny had a lie-in this morning. Neither of them had any classes today and exams were still a month off, so they decided to lounge around and enjoy a free day together. They lay in one another's arms, chatting between kisses and caresses. Penny had more or less moved into Dudley's flat with him, since she'd spent so many nights there over the past few months. If they could have afforded it, they would have found a larger place, but that would have to wait until they finished their studies.

They had just finished a healthy snog when a knock came at the door. "Yeah, coming," Dudley yelled. He reluctantly slid out of bed and went to the door and opened it to find his cousin standing there. "Harry," he said a bit surprised. "Please, come in."

"Dudley, good to see you," Harry said as he walked through the door. "Oh... H-hello, Penny! I'm not intruding, am I?"

"Blimey, no. We're just having a day off. Soon we'll have to focus on exams," Dudley replied. "They're going to be brutal. All those ruddy manuals."

"Tell me about it. Hermione and Ginny are already planning their studies schedules to survive their NEWTs," Harry said. "So much to remember, plus practical application. Ron and I are ready to do what we can to support them."

"NEWTs? What newt," Dudley asked, scratching his head. "And don't tell me it's a ruddy lizard."

Harry laughed at his cousin's jab. "Okay, I won't tell you it's a ruddy lizard; it's a ruddy salamander," Harry teased. "No, seriously. It stands for Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Test, the final exam after seven years at Hogwarts."

Dudley laughed. "You've always been a bit of a smart arse, Harry. Is that the official name?"

Me? A smart arse? Dad would be proud. "Sure," Harry replied. "At the end of fifth year, we had to sit our OWLs. Ordinary Wizarding Levels. The students just call them owls and newts."

"At least they don't try to hide the fact that NEWT is a demanding exam, right? How are you Harry, apart from getting married soon?"

"Well...I'm an Auror now, so I certainly understand about having to learn a library of manuals and all the laws and stuff. I've been with the Auror Office only a short time and I've already got my hands full," Harry said.

"What's going on," Penny asked, opening the refrigerator. "Dudley, Love. Put some tea on, yeah?"

"Right. So...a tough case, then?" Dudley put the kettle on while Penny rattled skillets and pots around.

"Yeah. We're up against a very nasty Death Eater. We've lost two veteran Aurors so far. That's why I'm here," Harry said.

"What can we do," Dudley asked, leaning against the counter, arms crossed. "I mean, this is a Wizarding case, isn't it?"

"It is, but she's targeting Muggles, Dud, and we could use a Muggle perspective."

Penny made scrambled eggs and toast, and insisted that Harry have some whether he'd eaten already or not. They sat down to breakfast and Harry began to unravel Mafalda's story. "... and yesterday, we arrested four of her Death Eaters who'd kidnapped a famous Muggle. But we can't piece together what she might have wanted with him. Basically, she doesn't care a fig about Muggles, but there must be a reason why she wanted this one."

"Who was it," Penny asked, taking a bite of toast."We haven't heard anything in the news about any celebrity kidnappings."

"It was a football player. A David Beckham," Harry told them.

Dudley spit tea and egg across the table onto the wall. "You rescued David Beckham?"

"Do you know him?" Harry'd been so ensconced in the Wizarding community, he had never heard of the man until the day he rescued him.

"Of course! Well, not personally..." the sports-interested Penny and Dudley answered in chorus. "He's playing for Manchester United and for the national team. How come it's nowhere in our news that he was kidnapped?"

"After we got him out, I returned him to his home and removed any memory of his ordeal and then altered both his and his fiancée's memories. They both think they spent a quiet night at home."

Both Dudley and Penny started at Harry and then at each other. "You met him, and were in his home, and you met Posh," Penny asked, completely awed.

Harry looked confused. "They had a rather posh home?"

"Victoria Adams, Posh Spice, soon to be Mrs Beckham, his fiancée..." Penny clarified as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

"Yes, I suppose I met Posh, but all I really did to her was wipe her memory and give her an altered one. Are you saying those two are famous in the Muggle world?" Harry was really out of the Muggle loop, although he'd lived most of his life in the Muggle world. But then again, what access did he have to the media? He hadn't been allowed to watch telly, nor had been allowed to listen to Dudley's stereo. How could he have know about singers and sports figures?

"Harry, my dear cousin," Dudley began. "David Beckham is one of this country's most famous football players."

"And his fiancée is a famous singer with The Spice Girls, whom I absolutely love, by the way," Penny offered. "Posh is her nickname."

"I can tell you that most people in the Wizarding world have never heard of them. And that's our big mystery, Dud," Harry sighed, running his hands through his raven locks. "What would Mafalda Prewett gain by kidnapping them? What effect would it have on the Muggle world, and how would it be a threat to the Wizarding world?"

Dudley and Penny thought about it for a while. "One thing is certain. There would be a lot of publicity in our media about it," Penny stated.

"Every bloody police department from here to Iceland and back would be working round the clock," Dudley filled in. "They'd be all over it."

"But that wouldn't concern you, would it," Penny asked Harry.

"No, not as long as it wasn't a witch or wizard committed the crime," Harry replied. "But if we knew one of our lot was involved, then it would concern us."

"Because..." Penny said.

"... kidnapping is as illegal in the Wizarding world as it is in the Muggle. But, Penny, kidnapping a Muggle is also a crime against the Secrecy Act, well, the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy of 1692."

"What is the Secrecy Act," Dudley asked, thoroughly intrigued.

Harry took a sip of his tea, while he thought how to explain it all. "It's a constitutional law saying that the Wizarding community must live in secret parallel to the Muggle community. We can interact with you, live among you and so on, but we are not allowed to reveal ourselves."

"But I know about you. Penny knows about you," Dudley reminded him.

"You know about us because you're related to me. Hermione's a Muggleborn, so her parents know about us too," Harry explained. "But the Secrecy Act is also a very powerful Ministry-controlled Fidelius charm, only much more complex."

"There's a magical part of the law," Dudley asked, surprised. After all, he was studying to become a police officer.

"Yes, there is a magical part to many laws, as you will see at the wedding when the charm is cast. Hermione can explain this stuff a lot better, but basically a Fidelius charm keeps something secret, unless divulged by a Secret-keeper. The Secrecy Act is a bit more advanced. Only Wizarding people can reveal the magical world to a Muggle. If either of you should try to tell another Muggle about us who doesn't already know about us, you wouldn't be able to. That's how we keep our secret safe."

"What would happen if there wasn't a Secrecy Act," Dudley asked. "I mean, there had to be a time..."

"Before it existed, there was a lot of fear among Muggles, most of it driven by superstition. There was a price on our heads—and the death penalty. On the rare and often unlikely occasion that mobs might have apprehended a real witch or wizard, their disciplinary methods would have no effect. A cooling charm could be cast to render fire harmless, or the witch or wizard could Disapparate and escape. Unfortunately, loads of innocent Muggles were tortured, hanged, beheaded, or burned out of fear of us." Harry shook his head in shame and disgust for the intolerance of the past. What bothered Harry even more was that they'd just fought a war over the same warped philosophies.

"Considering dad, I'd say there's still a lot of fear for magic," Dudley concluded.

"How did the Wizarding world live before the Secrecy Act, Harry," Penny asked, pouring him another cup of tea.

"In greater uncertainty," Harry began, his eyes watering with the heat of the tea. "If a Muggle community were struck by fear of some curse, a mob could go to a suspected wizard's home and drag him away. If the home belonged to a Muggle, they arrested and executed the poor bloke, but if it was a Wizarding home, the family simply Disapparated and relocated."

"So basically the Secrecy Act gives both worlds a form of stability," Penny concluded thoughtfully.

"I guess so."

Nothing more was said for a while, as they finished eating, mulling over what had been said. Dudley voiced his confusion. "Maybe this is a mental idea because I don't quite understand your world, Harry, but as I see it, the Secrecy Act pretty much holds your community together. This Mafalda... she can't be crazy enough to have it cancelled, can she?"

"Why? You got a hunch," Harry asked.

"Maybe. Kidnapping Beckham would only create headlines in our media, but what if kidnapping him was only the start, what if she killed him?" Dudley's face had a serious look on it and his eyes seemed darker than normal. "The public would go mental!"

"Even if she did, what would that do to us," Harry asked, encouraging his cousin to tell him more. "She'd cast the killing curse, and your coroners would be baffled. It leaves no mark and no evidence of internal trauma behind. It would be reported in your media as a death by unknown causes." He didn't know what Dudley was thinking, but this was exactly the perspective he desperately needed.

"What if she had it filmed," Penny suggested. "Or in front of Muggle witnesses. You said it yourself. She can reveal your world to Muggles." Penny stole a glance at Dudley, who seemed to be processing all the possibilities as they discussed them. He'll make a fine detective one day.

"Sure, that would make them pretty scared, but they still wouldn't be able to tell anyone. The authorities could pass the film off as fake to hide the real cause of death." Harry had learned in all his years sleuthing about Hogwarts and fighting the war that even the most improbable of solutions can be actual. But there were too many "ifs" involved now. Too many undermining factors.

"Live telly," Penny said flatly, looking over in the corner at Dudley's tiny set.

"What? Live..." Harry asked her.

"Harry, think about it," Penny said excitedly, gesturing with her hands. "If you wanted to reveal your world to millions of Muggles, there's nothing like live telly. What if she planned to do that apparatus-thing into Old Trafford, with 50,000 people in attendance, and a live broadcast reaching all over Britain and onto the Continent?"

"That's a scary thought," Harry admitted, realising that it would reveal their world to millions of Muggles, and the Secrecy Act would fail, sending both worlds into utter chaos. "That way she would defeat us and create widespread havoc. Of course it would lead to countless Muggle deaths, but that doesn't concern her."

"But isn't that what she's after," Dudley asked.

"No, Dud. She doesn't care about Muggles at all, one way or the other, but she knows we do. The chaos she could create would undermine authority and bring the Ministry down. With the Ministry of Magic out of the way, she could try to create a new Wizarding community, shaped after her ideas. Blimey, it makes sense," Harry exclaimed.

"Harry, you're talking anarchy, here," Dudley exclaimed. "Complete and utter anarchy!"

"Exactly. That's why I must talk to our Minister immediately. Maybe he can convince the Muggle Prime Minister to petition the Muggle police to look for Mafalda, and keep a closer watch on your celebrities. By Merlin, this is the best theory we have so far. Thanks, you two!" Harry rose.

"For what, being stupid Muggles," Dudley grinned.

"No," Harry laughed. "For having a perspective I didn't. Listen, it's great seeing you again and I really would like to stay longer, but I have to see what Hermione has come up with and then see our Minister. You two are geniuses. Thanks for breakfast, Penny." Harry shook Dudley's hand and gave Penny a peck on the cheek.

"Say hello to Ginny," Dudley said. "And Ron and Hermione of course."

"Will do. Say hello to Aunt Petunia when you see her!" Harry Apparated just outside the Hogwarts main gates. It was almost lunch time, so Harry would be able to speak to Hermione, Ron and Ginny. He was on to something, but he wanted to seek their input before dragging Ron off to see Kingsley.

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Draco had once again found himself Portkeyed somewhere to meet Mafalda. He wasn't particularly looking forward to this meeting, not that he looked forward to any of them. If something went wrong, he surely couldn't duel her because there were Death Eaters who would come to her aid instantly. He didn't want to join her, either. He knew what she wanted with him this time, but he still had no idea what to say about Potter's wedding. He hadn't done anything to find out the date because he knew the effort would be wasted. He just wasn't privy to that kind of information.

Draco looked around and guessed he was in the same tent as last time, but he was certain it stood in another place. There were probably silencing charms around it because he couldn't hear a sound from the outside, giving him virtually no chance to figure out where he was. He hadn't waited for very long before Mafalda entered the sitting room from a back room, presumably her bedroom, provided she actually lived in this tent, which he doubted.

"Mr Malfoy," Mafalda greeted him.

"Miss Prewett," he returned.

"Have you anything to report?"

"As I told you last time, the Potter wedding is the best-kept secret in this country. It's not the kind of information I can get my hands on. I'll bet that Granger put a Fidelius charm on the invitation so the only way to find out would be to capture Potter or his Weaselette." Draco tried to sound as cold as he could to avoid rousing Mafalda's suspicion.

"I hear a rumour that you've got yourself a woman too Mr Malfoy." Mafalda said. Malfoy found it strange for a girl to speak that way, as if a woman was something one got, as though she might be a prize for winning a contest or a gift one received for one's birthday. He certainly considered Astoria a prize, but never an object, and Merlin help the bastard who ever treated her as such.

His relationship with her had developed from the friendship based on their school house affiliation into a serious love affair. Malfoy had introduced Astoria to his mother last weekend, and they were planning to visit the Greengrass family the following. Malfoy felt good about it all, but a little awkward meeting his former classmate Daphne again. There had been a short dalliance, but nothing ever came of it. Most of the time, he'd dated Pansy Parkinson, but that was over long ago. Thank Merlin. All Astoria had told her family she was bringing her boyfriend to meet them but that it was Draco was still a surprise.

"Yes, Astoria Greengrass. She's from a good Pureblood family," Malfoy answered, trying to swallow the bile that rose in his throat. His attitudes had softened a little concerning blood status, but he didn't think he could ever marry a woman of less than Pureblood. Some things were just ingrained and couldn't be helped. Still and all, he'd had a bellyful of hatred and prejudice and he really didn't relish standing here before the living embodiment of it.

"I can't afford for you to be distracted by a woman right now. You must break it off," Mafalda told him. Malfoy felt a tingling sensation in his mind. He knew she'd cast the Imperius curse at him and realised Mafalda must be able to cast it non-verbally.

Malfoy considered his options. If he made Mafalda aware of her attempt to Imperius him, she might kill him on the spot. On the other hand, he couldn't let his defences down and let her curse him. No. He would never break up with Astoria. Not when she was everything good in his life. He loved her. He needed her. She had become his very breath and there was no way in hell he would ever let her go.

Malfoy chose an alternative he had never tried. Professor Snape had taught him about it. He knew now it was the way Snape had deceived Voldemort, even if he hadn't revealed that part to Malfoy himself. Draco closed his mind, but left a thin surface of a fake awareness remain outside his mental walls. This way, Mafalda might believe she had bent his will with her dark magic. He could be aware of her instructions through the Imperius curse, but his mind and will would remain unaltered.

"You will leave Astoria Greengrass. You will be my loyal servant. I will send you written instructions shortly. As a token of your loyalty, you will now bow to me and swear your allegiance." Draco heard Mafalda's voice in his mind, but his mental blocks held. He had managed to defend himself against the Imperius curse.

"I swear my allegiance to My Lady." Draco said thinking of Astoria as he swore his oath, but added a bow. "I will be faithful to her." She's the only woman I'd pledge my life and heart to.

Mafalda smiled. "Now, go and do your Lady's bidding." she said and pointed to a tea cup, which was apparently a Portkey.

As Malfoy turned away from Mafalda, he smiled. He had no problems swearing his allegiance to his Lady, to his beloved Astoria. My pleasure, you mad bint. He picked up the teacup and was transported back to the Ministry.

He felt a little off-centre, off-balance. The Imperius was somehow still active but had not and could not penetrate his mind. Draco could see how this method had fooled Voldemort. If he ever tried to Imperius Professor Snape or read his mind, all he would have seen was a loyal Death Eater's mind and not the true place where Severus Snape lived. Mafalda must have been convinced she had successfully cast the curse, otherwise he would not be here. "I will never serve her," Malfoy thought. "And I won't abandon Astoria." He was confused how to act and needed to speak with her immediately. He needed her in his arms.

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Harry met Ron and the girls at the Gryffindor table for lunch. His visit with Dudley and Penny had proven to be fortuitous and he couldn't wait to hear their opinions. "Hey, all! Hello, Gorgeous Girl," Harry said, sliding into a seat next to Ginny. "I've missed you this morning. How's the studying?"

Ginny leaned over for a lingering kiss. "Mmm...hello, Gorgeous Guy. It's tough, but I'm muddling through," she said as she fed him a bit of sandwich.

"Are you okay, Harry? I heard about...yesterday," Hermione said, biting her lip. "I'm really sorry."

"I'm good, Hermione. I'll get through it all right. It was just a shock, that's all," Harry assured her. "By the way, I went to see Dudley and Penny today."

"How's life among the Muggles," Ron asked, picking his fourth sandwich from the tray. "Pmfn jsh?" Ron picked up a pitcher and pointed to Harry's glass.

"What? Oh. Pumpkin juice. Yeah, sure. Thanks," Harry replied with a chuckle. "You really must stop talking with your mouth full, Ron. It's disgusting and we can't understand you anyway. Remember what Aunt Muriel said..."

"Sod Aunt Muriel," Ron grumbled.

"Pass. She's not my type," Harry laughed.

"Too right, she's not," Ginny snickered. Soon all four of them were in stitches.

"Can't you be serious, if only for a moment, Ron," Hermione scolded between giggles.

"No, Hermione. I'm Ron. I can't be Sirius!" Harry spewed pumpkin juice across the table, just missing Hermione by millimetres.

Hermione didn't get the joke at first. In fact, she was a bit perturbed at the mess Harry made thanks to Ron's joking. "Scourgify," she muttered, cleaning it up. A few moments later, she began to laugh. "Oh I get it! Sirius!" They broke out into another round of laughter, some for Ron's very clever joke and some for Hermione's delayed reaction. "He would have loved that."

Harry gave up trying to have a straightforward conversation until the giddiness passed, so he decided to just eat first and talk later. He and Ginny fed each other bits of sandwich, pieces of fruit and an occasional crisp. They'd tried to feed one another some soup much to the glee of their fellow Gryffindors, but decided their food didn't look good on them, so they gave it up as a solo act. Harry couldn't help but think about those lovely chocolate-covered strawberries Kreacher had brought them last night. He sent a wave through their bond, causing Ginny to blush. Perhaps we might experiment tonight.

"So," Ron began again as the laughter died down and he was able to catch his breath. "You said you'd been to Dudley's. What did you find out?"

"Well, he'll make a damned good policeman when he finished his training," Harry said.

"Hmm. Looks like law enforcement runs in the family," Hermione said matter-of-factly.

"Yeah, I suppose it does, but I don't think he'll make Assistant Chief of Police right out of the gate. I mean, Dudley's great and all, but the Muggle police departments aren't as desperate as the Auror Office was when we came in," Harry told him with a smirk. "Anyway, he and Penny had some great insights."

"Such as..." Ginny interjected.

"Well, we couldn't get a fix on why Mafalda would want to kidnap a Muggle, even a celebrity and expect it to have a major impact on our world," Harry began to explain.

"Yeah, so..." Ron said, taking a gulp of pumpkin juice.

"They botched her plan when they took Beckham, Ron. She hadn't given them the order to take him because she wasn't ready and Penny and Dudley came up with a theory as to why," Harry explained.

"And that is..." asked Hermione.

Harry gestured to the others to lean in until their heads almost touched. "Live telly," Harry explained. "More specifically, a live broadcast of a major event...say...a football game. Hence, David Beckham. Penny says he's the most-popular football player in Britain."

"So what does that have to do with anything. We rescued him and returned him to his home," Ron argued.

"That's the part that was botched. Dudley and Penny suggested that she might put some crazy operation into motion to actually attend a game. The stadium holds some 50,000 people. Imagine marching out onto the field in front of all those Muggles, international broadcast cameras rolling, grabbing somebody like Beckham and firing the killing curse at him for all the world to see," Harry said. "It would expose our world to the Muggles and lead to chaos."

"We would of course survive, but all the blame would fall on the Ministry of Magic. That would render Mafalda a lot of support, and the ability to recruit wizards and witches to build a new Wizarding community," Hermione concluded.

"Blimey, that's...that's anarchy," Ron said aloud.

"Shhh! Exactly. That's what Dudley said. Ron, we've got to get to Dawlish and Kingsley—yesterday," Harry said resolutely.

"Then Hermione and I shall leave you to it. It's time to head for class," Ginny said with a heavy sigh. "Ready, Hermione?"

"As I'm ever going to be, I suppose." She turned to Ron and gave him a sweet kiss before she gathered her books and stood up. "I love you."

"Love you too, 'Mione. See you at supper." Ron kissed her again and let her go.

"I love you, Harry Potter," Ginny said as she reluctantly broke their kiss and again and joined Hermione as they left for class.

Ron stood and pulled his long legs free of the bench. "Shall we, Auror Potter," Ron asked. "We'll need to make some kind of report if you're wanting to see the Chief and the Minister this afternoon."

"After you, Auror Weasley." Harry and Ron strode confidently between the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw tables toward the great oak doors leading from the Great Hall. The held their heads high and carried an air of authority—a trait rarely found in young men their age.

They'd become quite accustomed to the whispers and stares of the other students, including a few Slytherins. They were war heroes, but that was only part of their mystique. They had already gained a minor reputation as major arse-kickers with the Auror Office, thanks to the Prophet. Anyone who knew them, though, knew them to be kind and gentle, loving men who happened to be engaged to two of the three most-beautiful witches in the country.

They represented Wizarding Britain's hope for a bright future, but the hero-worship and delusions of grandeur were overshadowed by a grim reality. Law enforcement was just as dangerous and filthy a business as war, and few young people knew that better than this elite generation of Aurors led by Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. Had that fact been truly understood by their adoring public, it would serve only add another layer of bricks to their pedestals.

Harry and Ron sat in Harry's office poring over their notes and discussing them in tandem with Dudley's and Penny's hypotheses. There was no hard evidence, but the implications alone were strong enough to cause great concern. It wasn't much, true, but it still gave them something to go on, so they began their report, hoping to get in with Dawlish and Kingsley before the day was out. What Harry and Ron hoped for was a way to stop Mafalda's freight train before it reached the station. They hadn't written a foot of parchment before there was a knock at the door.

"Come," Harry called as he and Ron looked expectantly at the door. Harry's voice had become authoritative and commanding, but never unkind or intimidating—unless he happened to be conducting an interrogation.

The door opened and Malfoy entered. "Potter, I'd need a few minutes with you—privately. It's important."

Ron threw Harry a suspicious glare. Harry appeared to be considering and Ron prepared himself to stand fast with his partner. "Sure. Ron, it's okay."

"Just call me if you need me, all right." Ron reluctantly left, eyeing Malfoy with mistrust and not a little malice.

"Get yourself another chocolate frog, will you," Harry grinned as Ron closed the door. Overprotective git. But I have to love the man anyway.

Harry turned to Malfoy, who looked troubled. "Please. Sit down."

Draco sat down and rested his elbows on his knees. "This will probably make you laugh, Potter," he began, "but I need your help."

Harry didn't laugh. There was a seriousness in Malfoy's words he never heard before. "Go on."

"I might be able to help you too, but basically I'm in deep trouble and without help, I might be killed," Malfoy told him.

"I guess this has something to do with your dealings with Mafalda."

Malfoy nodded. "She knows I've been a sort of double-agent. I was taken by Portkey today, and this time, she demanded my absolute loyalty."

"And I guess you somehow fooled her, because you got away alive and now you're here asking for help. Am I right?"

"Yes. She...tried to Imperius me. But I used a method of deception Professor Snape taught me. I let a false awareness stay outside my mental defence. That awareness is now Imperiused. I can hear any instruction she gives me, but my mind is safe behind my mental wall. I can choose to obey or not. I choose not."

"That's bloody brilliant," Harry exclaimed spontaneously. "It must have been Professor Snape's own device. It has to be how he kept Voldemort certain that he was a Death Eater."

Malfoy nodded. "That's what I think too. At the time, I thought it was the way he made Dumbledore believe he was his man. But I've managed to figure professor Snape out and I think it's something you know too. His loyalty was determined not by Professor Dumbledore or Voldemort, but by love... for your mother."

Harry was taken aback by Malfoy's astuteness. How could he have known that? Professor Snape would surely not have told him. And he hadn't seen the memory Harry had. "What makes you think that?"

"You placed a lily on his coffin. And ever since the war ended, you have spoken about him with respect. You haven't called him a greasy git or any of the other...ah...clever names you and Weasley had for him." Malfoy concluded. "Now... I do need your help Potter, but not because I support your cause. My motives are my own. I must confess that the only side I'm on in this is mine."

"Come on Malfoy, you want to save your own neck. There's something you're not telling me," Harry retorted. Harry could see Malfoy fighting his emotions.

"Believe it or not, but I have a girlfriend, Potter. Mafalda ordered me to break it off. I won't do that, but as long as Mafalda is free, I can't reveal that she failed to Imperius me, that makes Astoria a potential target. I fear for her safety rather than my own," Draco confessed, his eyes bright and determined. "Once Mafalda is arrested, I'll simply cast off the Imperius curse. But for now, I need to keep it up to know what she wants me to do. Apart from breaking up, I'm supposed to wait for written instructions."

Harry could almost hear Professor Dumbledore's voice speaking about love after hearing Malfoy's revelation. Again, a Death Eater underestimated love. Harry knew he didn't need Malfoy's loyalty, since the one he'd obviously already sworn to Astoria was enough.

"I'll help you, Malfoy. Report any instructions she gives you to me or Ron only. We have a good lead on her plan and the information you provide might be the decisive piece of information we need to arrest her," Harry said, setting the blond man at ease.

Malfoy nodded, a bit surprised Potter seemed to trust him. There was no gloating or telling him he got the trouble he deserved by supporting the wrong people. No, Potter was fair, but was most important to Draco is that he knew Harry Potter was an honest man and could be trusted implicitly. Still, he had to be sure. Astoria's safety was on the line.

"I hope I can count on some discretion," Malfoy said.

"You can," Harry promised.

Malfoy left the office and walked past Ron. "Weasley."

"Malfoy," Ron answered as he watched him leave.

"What was that all about," Ron said as he sat back down and propped his feet up on Harry's desk.

"The turning point I believe," Harry smiled mysteriously "DEs just don't learn anything."

"What's that supposed to mean," Ron asked.

"Ron, Mafalda has made her big mistake. Ironically, it's the very same mistake her former master made. As luck would have it, Malfoy has some skills that might come in handy."

"Are we trusting that slimy git now," Ron asked.

"We don't have to, mate," Harry smiled.

"You know, I'm inclined to agree more and more with those who claim you're the new Professor Dumbledore. You're becoming just as annoyingly weird with your answers as he was," Ron grunted.

"Ron, let's just finish this sodding report. We need to give it to Kingsley, but we need to talk to him too."

Dawlish sat at his desk reading the Prophet. There was a piece about the four Death Eaters they'd apprehended and the Prophet was positive about the new Auror leadership so far. Since Potter joined the Auror Office, they'd made seven arrests.

Gawain Robard's death had been described as a result of the heat of battle. Tragic yes, but hard to avoid. Williamson's death had been explained as an accident due to error in judgement based on great loyalty to his colleagues. The Prophet had taken great pains to illustrate the difficult dilemma of a ward-keeper. A knock on the door interrupted Dawlish's perusal of the Prophet.

"Enter!" Harry and Ron stepped into his office and sat down. "So," Dawlish asked them. "Good news or bad news?"

"A little of both, I guess," Harry answered vaguely.

"Start with the bad news."

"Malfoy is Imperiused. We have a very strong indication that Mafalda is preparing to destroy the Ministry of Magic."

Dawlish nodded. He wasn't surprised to hear this. "And what's the good news?"

"Mafalda is deceived by Malfoy. We can trust he will support us," Harry said, giving his boss a serious look.

"And why is that?"

"Exactly," Ron grumbled "That's what I want to know."

"He used the same method Professor Snape used against Voldemort. This means he can hear what Mafalda orders him to do, but is free to act as he wishes. Malfoy can't cast off the Imperius until Mafalda is arrested. He has... personal reasons for wanting Mafalda brought to justice."

"Do you trust him?"

"Malfoy? No, but it's not necessary either. His personal interest is deep enough to tell me he won't let us down," Harry replied.

Dawlish shook his head. "Far be it for me to question any device of yours, Potter. What do we need to do to stop Mafalda?"

"We need to talk to the Minister as soon as possible," Harry said flatly.

"Of course," Dawlish said. "I'll see to it immediately."

On his way to the Minister's office, Dawlish had the very same thought Ron had. Harry Potter acted more and more like Albus Dumbledore. Dawlish trusted Harry and for whatever reason, Harry knew he could count on Malfoy no matter his true loyalties.

The Minister for Magic rifled through the stack of memos in his inbox. There were requests for personal appearances, including the grand openings of new shops in Diagon Alley. The place was still recovering from the ravages of Voldemort's reign of terror and every new shop opening or re-opening boded well for Shacklebolt's administration. Most of the time, he was happy to participate, but the grind got old quickly for the former Auror. He had just dropped a stack of rejections into the bin when a knock came at the door.

"Come in," he called.

Dawlish opened the door and stepped in. "King, could I have a word?"

"Of course. What's on your mind, Johnny," Kingsley smiled as Dawlish scowled. "Sorry. What is it, John?"

"Potter and Weasley are waiting in my office. They said they need to meet with you immediately," he said.

"You wouldn't happen to know what this is about, would you," Kingsley asked.

"I would, but I'll leave it to Potter and Weasley to explain, if you don't mind," Dawlish said.

Kingsley thought a moment. If Potter wants to see me, it must be important. "John, tell them to meet me for afternoon tea. I expect you'll join us," Kingsley decided.

"Fair enough," Dawlish said as he left the office.

A dozen or so parchment airplanes flew through the door as Dawlish left. The Minister sighed as he rifled through the seemingly endless pile on his desk, silently cursing the ones flying around his head, seemingly vying for attention. "Bloody hell," Shacklebolt muttered as he resumed his sorting.

Kingsley's secretary had just finished setting the conference room table for four when Kingsley, Dawlish, Harry and Ron arrived and seated themselves. She served them tea before leaving the room. Over tea, Harry and Ron gave their report, handing over hard copies to Kingsley and Dawlish.

"I want to request that the Muggle Prime Minister be notified and that the Muggle police search for Mafalda, but under strict orders to report without taking further action. This may sound rude, but they're literally defenceless against her and I'm not going to allow her and her minions to take another human life."

Kingsley agreed there was too much evidence, speculative as it was, supporting the possibility of a massive breach of the Secrecy Act to ignore it. Malfoy provided a certain amount of hope, but far from enough, given the lack of hard evidence, or any clue as to Mafalda's current whereabouts. "We'll go to the Muggle Prime and brief him. I'm certain he will co-operate," Kingsley said. "Anything else?"

Dawlish cleared his throat. "Minister, I'm not cut out to be the Head," he said abruptly. He held his hands up to stave off any protests before they began. "Please. Hear me out. All I've done since Robards death is approve our true leader's tactics and strategy," Dawlish said, turning to Harry. "Please. Let me finish. the DA consider you their true leader, Harry, despite the fact that they would never question my authority. The old Aurors, the few of us who are left, think of you as the new Albus Dumbledore. There's no point denying it, Harry. There's no one more cut out to lead us than you... in my humble opinion."

Kingsley stared in stunned silence at Harry, then Ron and Dawlish. "Are you telling us that you're resigning as Head of the Auror Office, John?"

"Yes, I am. And as my final act as Head, I recommend Potter as my successor."

Kingsley looked at Harry, who slumped back in his chair, gob smacked. "What do you have to say about this, Harry?"

"I...don't really know." Harry said, feeling obligated to say something, but at a loss for words.

Ron came to his friend's rescue. "He'd be the best ruddy Head the Aurors ever had. No shadow on your leadership sir," he continued, nodding at Dawlish, "but Harry is bloody brilliant."

Harry blushed at Ron's support. "Thanks, mate."

Dawlish turned to Harry. "Look, I'm only in your way. You led the fight against Voldemort after Albus Dumbledore was killed. He prepared you for it the entire year leading up to his death. This time, you've been the real leader in the fight against Mafalda Prewett."

Harry nodded dumbly, still saying nothing.

"It's settled then. Harry, I hereby appoint you Head of the Auror Office. Dawlish, you will resume your work as a Senior Auror. Harry, who would you appoint as your Assistant Head?"

"Sir, there are really only two people I would consider, but only one of them is an Auror." Harry looked straight at Ron.

"Mr Weasley," Kingsley began, "would you consider the post as Assistant Head?"

Ron blushed and simply nodded his reply, dumbstruck himself. Under the table, he bumped fists with his best mate and partner. There's no stopping us now, Mafalda. The party's over.

"That's settled then," Kingsley smiled, rubbing his hand together. Kingsley never disapproved of Dawlish. He'd appointed the man himself, but having Harry and Ron running the Auror Office was in many ways, a dream come true. This would have a great positive effect on his wishes to bring good people into the Ministry. A lot of young and talented wizards and witches would apply for work after this announcement. And it'd look good to the Wizarding public. These two are heroes, for Merlin's sake, and now they're in full legal charge of the fight against evil.

"By the way, will you deliver this letter to your father," Kingsley asked Ron, handing him an official letter. "It's my reply to his report. After all, you are in the same department."

"Of course, sir. I'll be happy to take it to him," Ron said, still reeling from his promotion. He took the letter and tucked it in his robes, but he paused when he noticed something amazing. His silver badge had changed to gold. It once read R.B. Weasley, Auror Office, but it now read R.B. Weasley, Assistant Head, Auror Office. He stole a look at Harry's. His gold badge read H.J. Potter, Head, Auror Office. Wait until Hermione gets a load of this! A sly grin stole across his face as his blue eyes glittered with the possibilities.

Harry still couldn't wrap his head around this news. Eighteen years old and Head of the Auror Office. That had to be some kind of record. Of course, Harry's broken all kinds of age records. The youngest ever to have played on a school Quidditch team in a century his first year, the youngest ever to have mastered the Patronus charm his third year, the youngest ever winner of the Triwizard Tournament his fourth year, the youngest ever to have been awarded the Order of Merlin, First Class just last summer, the youngest ever Assistant Head of the Auror Office, and now the youngest ever Head.

It was a load of responsibility, but he was no stranger to that either. The fate of the Wizarding world rested on his shoulders from the time he was fifteen months old. He just didn't know it until just three short years ago. He'd even taken on teaching a rag-tag lot of school-age witches and wizards Defence Against the Dark Arts because their sadistic nutter of a teacher didn't teach them. Harry smiled. He was proud of the DA and what it had accomplished. He was proud to have them with him in the Auror Office.

At that moment, Harry James Potter rededicated his life and resources, magical and otherwise, to the defeat of the dark arts. With his wife and best friends by his side, there would be no stopping him. Ginny, love, have I got a surprise for you. He sent a wave of the unspoken thing mingled with threads of desire and excitement through their bond. Almost immediately, she sent a response awakening Gryffindor's lion.

"Harry. Harry. You in there mate?" Harry was shaken from his reverie. "Harry, you all right, mate," Ron said waving his palm in front of his eyes.

"What? Oh yeah, I'm fine. I was just...thinking, that's all," He replied, adjusting his robes over his lap.

"We have to drop by Dad's office and deliver this," Ron reminded him, waving the letter.

"Oh right. Sorry. I just..."

"No worries, Harry," Kingsley said. "It's overwhelming, I know. But you'll settle in."

"I... er... yeah. I suppose so. I'm still trying to get my head around it, that's all," Harry replied, pushing away from the table.

He and Ron shook the Minister's hand and joined Dawlish at the door. "After you... Chief," Dawlish said with a grin, ushering him into the corridor, with Ron taking up the rear.

"It's Harry, John. Just Harry." The three of them stood in front of the lifts with more little parchment airplanes floating about above their heads. Their car arrived and the female voice lilted, "Minister for Magic, Administration."

Harry, Dawlish, and Ron stepped into the car, as an assault of flying parchment darted out into the corridor. Then the ones that had floated over their heads flew in and performed an airborne ballet around the light.

"You planned this ahead, didn't you," Harry asked, looking John Dawlish square in the eye.

"I decided earlier today," Dawlish told him. "You're a much better leader than I'll ever be. I'm not trying to imagine anything else."

"I appreciate your confidence, John, but I..." Harry stammered.

"Harry, you're the best man for the job. I think even Kingsley knew that when he appointed me, but you weren't in the office yet. As Assistant Head, I was the logical choice," Dawlish told him. "But not necessarily the right one. You've proven that."

"I never meant..." Harry began, but Dawlish cut him off.

"You're a natural leader and people respect you, and that includes me. I'm pleased to be on your team." Dawlish slapped Harry lightly on the back and turned to Ron. "Ron, watch Harry's back. That's your job as his partner and his Assistant Head."

"Yes sir. I will, sir," Ron replied solemnly.

The lift door opened and the voice announced their floor. The three men exiting the car ignored it. They knew very well where they were. Another parchment air raid materialised above their heads, tangling in Ron's hair as they rushed in and out of the lift. "Ruddy memos! They're thick as Glumbumbles on nettles!"

"Harry, I'm going to clean out your desk and then I'm taking the rest of the day off...that is if you have no objections," Dawlish said with a conspiratorial grin.

"Not at all, John. The rest of the day's yours. Enjoy," Harry replied, shaking his hand again. "We're just going to nick down to Arthur's office and deliver the news."

Dawlish took an amused look at the door to his former office, which now read H. POTTER, HEAD AUROR. Next door, Harry's former office door read R. WEASLEY, ASSISTANT HEAD AUROR. He chuckled to himself and opened the door. They don't waste any time, do they? His files had been magically arranged and all of his belongings packed into boxes, which rested on the now-empty desk. "Depulso," Dawlish muttered, and with a flick of his wand, he banished the boxes to his flat. He took one last look around and sighed. "Good luck, Harry. We're counting on you." He left the office and strode back to the lifts, whistling a tune only he knew.

Harry and Ron strode through the corridors of the Ministry of Magic, headed for Arthur Weasley's office. They hadn't spoken a word after they left Dawlish at the Auror Office. They'd both been lost in thought, each unbeknownst to the other, turning over the events that led them from King's Cross Station nearly eight years before to this point in their lives. So much had happened, so many adventures—and misadventures—so much laughter, so many tears; so much...everything. They'd hung together through thick and thin and soon they'd be brothers in name as well as in deed. Head Auror Potter and Assistant Head Auror Weasley had no idea at that moment that they would one day become legends of magical law enforcement.

When they arrived, Ron knocked on the door and opened it. "Dad?"

"Ron! Harry! Come on in, boys. Come on in," he said with a wide grin, his eyes twinkling. "What brings you to our humble nook, then?"

"Uh... Kingsley gave us this to give to you," Ron said, stealing side glances at Harry. Ron wondered how long it would take his father to notice their new badges pinned to their Auror's robes.

"Ah yes. I've been waiting for this," Arthur said as he opened the envelope. He took his reading glasses out of his breast pocket and put them on. "Now, let's see here." He adjusted his spectacles until they sat his face properly and began to read.

Dear Arthur,

I agree with your assessment. Your office has outlived its purpose. On your recommendation, I am transferring your staff to the Magical Law Enforcement Squads. In addition, I hereby appoint you, Arthur Weasley, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. The current Head shall join my staff as Senior Undersecretary Magical Law Enforcement.

Congratulations,

Kingsley

"Merlin's knickers," Ron yelled. "Head of Magical Law Enforcement! Dad, this is... this is... bloody hell! Congratulations, Dad!" Ron took his blushing father up in a bear hug, nearly lifting him off the floor. "Wait until Mum finds out!"

Harry collapsed into a chair laughing at Ron's exclamation. When he finally pulled himself together under the gaze of his surrogate father and brother, he stood again and shook Arthur's hand.

"Congratulations, Arthur. You're my new boss."

"What?" Arthur gazed back and forth at the two young men before him. "What are you on about, Harry?"

"We've just come from a meeting with Kingsley. Dawlish resigned," Harry told him. "And I... uh..."

Ron sighed heavily. Self-conscious git. "Kingsley appointed our Harrykins Head of the Auror Office." Ron put his arm around his friend's shoulders and gave him a shake. "And I'm the new Assistant Head."

"Git," Harry murmured.

Arthur's eyes nearly bugged out at the news. "I'm... so proud," he said, taking out his handkerchief. "My boys... Aurors... Heads. I don't know what to say!" He hugged both of them. "Your mother will so proud, Ronnie. Harry, I know the Marauders would be proud, son."

"Thank you, sir," Harry said, forcing a smile. The Marauders. Prongs, his father; Padfoot, his godfather; Moony, his teacher and friend; and Wormtail, the traitor. Sirius and Remus must have regaled Arthur and the others with tales of their exploits with the irrepressible James Potter. They had been cooped up a Grimmauld Place that summer before his fifth year at Hogwarts, so the stories were sure to have flown over Butterbeer and Firewhiskey.

"Make sure you, Ginny, and Hermione come to the Burrow this weekend. We must celebrate with the family," Arthur beamed. "This is a great day for the Weasleys! A great day!"

"Well, mate, I suppose it's time we moved into our offices," Harry said, slapping Ron on the back. "Then I think we check in with the teams and call it a day."

"Sounds good to me... Chief," Ron snickered, eyes twinkling. "And we need to let those women of ours in on the news."

"Tell them your news, boys," Arthur said in mock sternness. "I shall tell them my news on Saturday night with the rest of the family."

"Right, Dad. Your secret's safe with us," Ron promised. "Congratulations again." Ron had always loved and respected his father, even though there hadn't been much money and times were tough growing up. But one thing he did have with his father was a loving parent-child relationship. While many young men and their fathers were practically strangers, Ron and his father were friends in every sense.

"I know it is. All right, boys. Off you go. I need to owl Molly," Arthur said, showing them to the door. "Do give our love to our girls."

"Will do, Arthur. Thanks," Harry said.

Harry and Ron made their way back to their offices. "I wonder if we could remove the wall," Harry said thoughtfully.

"Remove what wall," Ron asked.

"The one between our offices. We're always working together anyway, usually in my office, so why not just remove the ruddy wall and have one big office we can share. We can plant a conference table right in the centre and still have loads of room to work."

"Brilliant," Ron exclaimed. "But who do we ask?"

"Your dad," Harry laughed. "He's the Head of Magical Law Enforcement. He has authority as the head of a department!"

"Blimey, your right! We'll have to ask him about that this weekend," Ron said excitedly.

"This weekend? Are you mental," Harry asked. "We can send him a ruddy parchment aeroplane!" The two of them laughed their way to Ron's office in order to clean Harry's gear out. Ron's was already there. When they arrived, Harry's belongings were neatly packed in a box, with his workout bag next to it. He banished them to his own office, but decided to leave the unpacking until tomorrow, since he was anxious to get back to Hogwarts and Ginny.

There was no point in hanging about anymore. Thompson and his team had arrived for their shift and they would monitor the teams in the field. Otherwise, the Auror Office were essentially playing a waiting game, waiting for Malfoy to report, waiting for Kingsley to set up a meeting with the Muggle Prime Minister, and waiting for Mafalda to possibly make another move.

Ron and Harry prepared to leave for the day. As they closed the door, Harry released his parchment air plane to Arthur and watched it zip along the ceiling to his office. He and Ron had a chuckle. "The ruddy things remind me of Pig," Ron said. "Flighty and overeager."

Ron and Harry Apparated outside the wards of Hogwarts castle. They passed through the gates to the grunting of the winged boars and trudged across the lawn. Since the last lessons of the day had just begun, Hagrid was likely off with a Care of Magical Creatures class, since there were no signs of life around his hut. Even Fang the boarhound was nowhere to be seen.

"How about we have dinner together, just the four of us in our room tonight, Ron? We can tell the girls and have our own little celebration before the story hits the Prophet and all hell breaks loose in the Great Hall," Harry suggested as they climbed the great stone staircase.

"Sounds good to me, mate. But right now, I'm for a shower and a nap," Ron replied with a yawn.

"Six, then," Harry asked, pausing by the Defence Against the Dark Arts door.

"Right. See you in a bit." Ron continued down the corridor toward the private room he shared with Hermione. Weasley, you're getting lucky tonight, mate.

Harry waved his hand at the fireplace and a warming fire appeared in the grate with a whoosh. He undressed and padded to the shower to clean up before he lay down for a cat nap. Ginny's last class ended at four-thirty, so that gave him an hour. He let the warm water run over his body while he stood there and turned the day's events over in his mind.

Harry finished his shower and grabbed a fluffy towel. He dried himself off, wrapped the towel around his waist and brushed his teeth and hair. It hung past his shoulders now. You're fighting a losing battle there, dear. Where had he heard that before? Chuckling, he padded out to the dresser, where he pulled a fresh pair of boxers and tee shirt. The fire had warmed the room nicely. He lay back on the bed and fell asleep.

"Harry..." A soft voice. Warm breath in his hear. "Harry, Love..." Something soft and sweet across his lips. "Gorgeous Guy..." A caress along his jaw.

He awoke and gave her a contended smile. "I think I'm in love," he groaned as he stretched his arms around Ginny and pulled her over onto himself.

"You are in love," she cooed. "And you're back early. What's going on?"

"I can't tell you that," he teased. "At least not for...oh...about two hours."

"Oh is that so? And why not," she asked brushing his unruly locks off his brow. She traced his scar with her finger. She was the only one he'd ever allowed to touch it.

"Because it's a surprise and I want Ron and Hermione to be with us when I tell you," Harry said with a mischievous grin. "And that reminds me. Kreacher!"

Crack! "Harry has called for Kreacher and Kreacher comes." The old House-elf bowed so low his nose touched the floor.

"Kreacher, would it be possible to have a supper for four served up here tonight? We have something to talk about and we don't want to have all of Hogwarts listening in."

"Of course," Kreacher said. "Would you be liking something special or..."

"No, no. Just whatever is being served, just in smaller amounts," Harry said. "And would it be possible to sneak in some red wine?"

"Of course, Harry. Kreacher will bring it from Grimmauld Place. Our cellars are well-stocked."

"And not a word to anyone about the wine? That'll be our little secret."

"Kreacher is not revealing Harry's secrets," Kreacher said, shaking his head slowly. "What time should Kreacher bring supper, sir?"

"Oh...uh...quarter-past-six," Harry decided. Kreacher bowed and disappeared with another crack!

"Wine? You asked for wine," Ginny asked Harry, her brow furrowed. "This must be something big." She'd begun to wheedle and he wasn't falling for it.

"Ron and Hermione are going to be here at six. You might want to change out of your school robes and into something more comfortable."

"I think I want to shower first. It's been a long day for me too. A shower might feel really good right now," she said, sliding off the bed. "While I shower, you can nap for a bit more if you wish."

"I wish," Harry said, grabbing her hand to kiss it. "Just wake me when you're ready."

Ron and Hermione arrived right on schedule and the four of them sat down to supper. Just before dessert, Harry and Ron stole a conspiratorial glance at one another. "Sir Ronald, wouldst thou care to do the honours?" Harry slid the bottle of wine to Ron to open.

"With pleasure, Sir Harry," he replied. He tapped the cork with his wand and muttered, "Alohamora." The cork slid out of the bottle with a quiet pop. Ron poured some into each of their glasses. "Go ahead, Sir Harry. Let the Kneazle out of the bag."

Harry stood holding his wine glass in the air. "Fair ladies, we, thy devoted knights, have an announcement to make unto thee. However, we must ask thee that thou dost not divulge it. It shall be widely-known soon enough," Harry said. "So, allow me to present unto thee the new Head of the Auror Office...me! But," Harry said holding up his hand. "Please hold thine applause, for there be icing for this cake. Allow me to present unto thee the new Assistant Head of the Auror Office...Sir Ron!"

"Thou art now free to snog these two valiant knights," Ron said with a sweeping, but wobbly, fool's bow.

Hermione and Ginny jumped to their feet with screams and squeals, hugging each other and then throwing themselves at their men. "Oh, congratulations, Ron... my love... my hero... I'm so... proud of you!" Ron picked her up off the floor in a voracious hug and returned her ardent kisses.

"Harry! This is fantastic! Oh congratulations, Love! I'm... so... proud... of you." Ginny leapt into Harry's arms and wrapped her legs around his waist as he held her tightly against him as he devoured her lips. Over more wine and dessert, Ron and Harry told Hermione and Ginny about the afternoon's events and how their promotions came about.

"So Dawlish resigned," Hermione asked, still caught up in the excitement of the moment. "Just like that?"

"I would say it was just like that, Hermione. He said he'd planned it," Harry replied. "He said something about the logical choice not always being the best one."

"And then, if you please," Ron continued, "as soon as Kingsley appointed Harry Head of the Auror Office, Harry took me on as Assistant Head."

"Harry, do you realise that you're the youngest ever Head of any Ministry Office in history," Hermione asked, realisation dawning on her face.

"Did we need to know that," Ron asked with a smirk.

"She's right, you know," Harry said thoughtfully. He'd been thinking about his firsts and youngest all afternoon. He still couldn't wrap his head around it.

"Does Dad know yet," Ginny asked Ron, also still excited. "I mean, he's on the same floor..."

"Dad knows, Gin. He wants the whole family to gather at the Burrow this weekend for a celebration," Ron said. "Harry, we'll need to see Professor McGonagall. Mum'll go spare if..."

"She'll give in," Harry said. "I don't think even Minerva McGonagall wants to tangle with Molly Weasley."

The four of them finished their wine and dessert, talking about all the possibilities for their future and the future of their world. Soon, they began to yawn and stretch with fatigue and a light buzz from the wine. "Well mates, I'm about ready to call it a day. I'm knackered to the bone and we've got to go in early tomorrow," Ron said with a yawn and a stretch. "Ready, love?" He stood and offered his hand to Hermione, who seemed to be a little off-centre. She nodded and leaned into him.

"Good night, Har... Harry," Hermione said through her yawn. "Congrad... congrat... well done." She gave Harry a sisterly hug and a peck on the cheek.

"Way to go... R-ron," Ginny whispered into her brother's face. "Mum's going to flip, you know."

Ron picked his sister up in a bear hug and gave her a peck on the forehead. "I know. I can't wait to see her face."

The following morning, Harry and Ron did indeed rise early. Ginny and Hermione joined them for an early breakfast. The food hadn't even been served yet when they reached the Great Hall. They'd planned to eat and be gone before the post owls arrived with the Daily Prophet clutched in their talons.

"Gin, we're going to be gone when the Post Owls arrive," Harry said. More students, mostly fifth and seventh years began to file in to the hall. "You're going to be bombarded with questions."

"Oh I think we can handle it," Ginny said, fingering her wand. "I'm pretty good with a silencing charm."

"Or a Bat-Bogey hex," Ron added with a smirk.

"Or a full body-bind," Hermione laughed. She was thinking about what she had done to Neville for his own good the night they went through the trapdoor to rescue the Philosopher's Stone. The others howled with laughter as the food appeared on the table.

As soon as they finished breakfast, Harry and Ron kissed their women goodbye and left the school for the Ministry. They found the latest issue of the Daily Prophet on Harry's desk. Ron checked his office and found a copy on his own. He picked it up and joined Harry back in his office. He sat down and stretched his long legs out and began to read.

Potter Takes Charge Of the Auror Office

In a bold move yesterday afternoon, Head Auror pro tempore John Dawlish resigned his leadership position in favour of none other than Harry Potter. Mr Dawlish is the first one to congratulate Mr Potter. 'Mr Potter is a skilled and experienced leader who knows more about fighting the dark arts than anyone else alive. I have had the honour and privilege of working with him and he has been a real asset to the upper-echelon of our law enforcement staff.'

Reaction from the Wizarding community is primarily positive, but the few doubtful voices cite Mr Potter's youth as a concern. However, following review of his official record and his known accomplishments, the Daily Prophet has compared him with his predecessors. Rest assured that Mr Potter is far more experienced than any of them at their appointment.

The new Assistant Head is Mr Potter's long time friend and ally, Ronald Weasley, known for his strategical and tactical skills. The Weasley family also celebrates the appointment of Arthur Weasley as Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

The Daily Prophet offers its heartfelt congratulations.

"Well, the Kneazle's out of the bag now," Ron snickered. "And Dad wanted to keep it quiet."

"What was he thinking," Harry replied, rolling his eyes with mock indignity. "I expect the rest of the family's gone mental by now."

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After classes Friday afternoon, Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione packed their rucksacks and left the castle amid congratulations and exclamations from the students. They Apparated to the Burrow, before the rest of the family arrived. Molly greeted her boys with her patented Molly Weasley bone-crushers, exclaiming her pride and wiping her eyes with her apron.

"We're so proud of you two," she sniffled. "Just so proud!" She hugged her girls and then sent them all upstairs to settle in. They all trooped up the stairs to their respective rooms.

Less than an hour later, Arthur Flooed in, followed immediately by Percy. "Molly! We're home!"

"Arthur, dear" Molly said, kissing her husband's cheek. "Percy!" She hugged her middle son and husband and then herded them into the living room. "The Hogwarts contingent is upstairs settling in. Oh Arthur! Head and Assistant Heads in the Weasley family!" She broke down in her husband's arms.

"What's wrong with Mum," Ginny asked Percy.

"Nothing. She's just emotional," Percy replied. "You must be really thrilled about Harry and Ron."

"We're still trying to get our heads around it. So what are your plans, Perce? Are you thinking about transferring out to work with Dad," Ginny asked.

"Hardly," Percy sniffed. "I'm needed right where I am, thanks."

Whoosh! The fire in the grate turned bright green as Bill and Fleur stepped through. Bill had to support his wife due to her condition. She had to hold her belly and looked a little green as she stepped out. Bill escorted her to the sofa and helped her lower herself into as comfortable a sitting position as possible.

"Zis eez most eenconvenient. I am beeg as zee 'ouse," she groaned.

"Do you need a pillow, dear," Molly asked, wand at the ready. "It'll help support your back."

"Ooh sank you, Muzzer Weasley. Zat would be most kind," Fleur replied gratefully. Molly conjured a fluffy pillow that Bill placed behind her.

"Thanks, Mum," Bill said, kissing his mother on the cheek. "So where are our super-sleuths?"

"Right here," Ron called as he, Harry, and Hermione entered the room. Molly burst into tears again just as the fireplace spewed Charlie into the room.

"Charlie," Ginny cried and ran to her older brother. "You're here!"

"Hey, baby sister," Charlie said as he scooped her up in his arms as if she were still a little girl. "Hey, family!"

A few minutes later, George arrived with Angelina and the party began. Molly herded her brood to the scrubbed oak table for a veritable feast including all of Harry's, Ron's, and Arthur's favourites. There was a selection of puddings including treacle tart, double-chocolate cake, and strawberry pie.

Charlie produced a bottle of the finest Romanian ice-vodka and showed it to Bill. "Since Dad's an honouree, the job falls to you, big brother."

"Right you are, Charlie," Bill replied. "Please. Share the wealth." Charlie opened the bottle, conjured eleven glasses and poured a half glass each. Once each member of the Weasley assemblage had a glass, Bill stood. "Weasleys, this is a momentous occasion. Tonight, we celebrate three esteemed members of our ever-growing clan—Arthur Weasley, the best dad the world has ever known; Ronald Weasley, our gallant and brave little brother; and Harry Potter, a ballsy little bastard if I ever knew one!"

"William Arthur Weasley," Molly scolded. "We did not raise you to use such language!"

Her shouts were met with gales of laughter. "Oh come on, Mum. It's true, you know," George said with a wink toward Harry. "He's taking our Ginny on, isn't he?" The table erupted in more laughter and even Molly couldn't contain herself. Harry merely pulled Ginny closer to him and kissed her temple.

"All right, all right. Can we shut it so I can finish," Bill asked peevishly.

"Sorry, son. Go on," Arthur said authoritatively. "You lot. Listen to your brother now."

"Thanks, Dad. Now, where was I? Oh yes. Ballsy little bastard," Bill said thoughtfully while the table snickered. "These three, in one fell swoop, have taken control of the highest levels of magical law enforcement. Who would have ever dreamed that our father and little brothers would become what the Muggles call top cops."

"Just get on with it, Bill," Percy grumbled. "Do you have to be so pompous?" The table erupted once again into howls of laughter. "What?"

"Never mind, Perce," Charlie said, wiping his eyes. "Go on, Bill."

"So... to Ron: I have to admit we were a bit worried about you for a while there. We didn't know what was to become of you, a gangly kid with a penchant for chess, but not much else," Bill said. The table snickered, including Ron himself. "When you returned after your first year at Hogwarts, Mum and Dad noticed a change in you they couldn't quite figure out. With each passing year, you grew into a solid and relatively focused young man. I like to think that's all down to the company you chose to keep. Tonight, we congratulate you, Assistant Head Auror Ronald Bilius Weasley. Sláinte!"

"Sláinte," the table replied in chorus and took a gulp of the icy drink.

"Now, now. We're not through yet," Bill boomed over his chattering family. He waited for them to quiet down before he continued. "To Harry: Mate, you've had an uncanny effect on this family over the years. Your friendship with our little brother has helped make him the man he is today. You've shown us how rich we really are—not in money, but in love. We might have taken that all for granted, had our three youngest brothers not flown that wretched car to Surrey that night to rescue you. Tonight, we congratulate you, Head Auror Harry James Potter. Sláinte!"

"Sláinte," the table replied again and drained their glasses.

Molly made a move to protest as Charlie refilled everyone's glasses. She sighed, but still accepted a refill herself. Bill then cleared his throat to address his father. "Dad," he began, tears welling up in his blue eyes, "Dad, we're all so proud tonight. We're proud to be your sons, your daughters, your wife, and your friends. You've always taught us what's really important in life—friends, family, and personal honour. None of that ever brought material wealth, but we're so much richer than most because of those values you and Mum instilled in us."

Bill had to stop to collect himself and wipe away the tears that coursed down his scarred cheeks before he could continue. "We all know you'll make a fine department head. You didn't ask for this promotion. You never asked for any recognition-not at work nor at home. But I think I speak for all of us when I say you deserve this position, and like it or not, it's a testament to the good and honourable man you are. Tonight, we congratulate you, Head of Magical Law Enforcement Arthur Weasley. Sláinte!"

"Sláinte!" The family drained their glasses and stood to applaud and cheer. The celebration continued around the table late into the night with stories and laughter, and even a few tears. Following a soothing cup of chamomile tea, they Weasley assemblage said their goodnights and drifted upstairs to bed.

A condition of Professor McGonagall's permission for Hermione and Ginny to spend the weekend at the Burrow was that they had to return by the Sunday evening meal. Following one of Molly's scrumptious midday meals, the Weasley assemblage bid one another goodbye.

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"My fireplace is connected to the Muggle Prime's," Kingsley said, "so we can Floo in." Moments later, Kingsley and Harry stepped out in an office he vaguely recalled having seen in the Muggle news years ago at Privet Drive.

The Muggle Prime Minister had been expecting them, and welcomed them cordially. Harry realised he'd been neglecting Muggle news, because there must have been an election because he didn't recognise this Prime Minister.

"Minister, this is Mr Harry Potter. He is the Head of our Auror Office, a new elite force against the dark arts."

"Excuse me for asking, but are you not a bit young, Mr Potter," the Muggle Prime asked more surprised than impolitely.

Harry was uncertain how to reply after shaking hands. Kingsley noticed and came to the rescue. "Mr Potter is the wizard who personally ended both the first and second Wizarding wars, by defeating the most evil dark wizard in our history. Despite his age, there's no one better for the job."

Harry blushed. What Kingsley said was of course in essence true, but Harry always found it hard to be presented as some kind of hero.

"Of course, Minister," the Muggle Prime replied, looking at Harry with a mix of fear and astonishment. "Please sit down."

They sat down and Kingsley turned to Harry after a few minutes of polite small talk. "Harry, would you please tell my Muggle colleague why we are here?"

"Of course, sir," Harry said and turned to face the Muggle Prime. "Last week, we rescued the football player, David Beckham, from kidnappers, wizard kidnappers."

The Muggle Prime looked surprised. "We would have known..."

"Yes, if we hadn't rescued him after only one night. We altered Mr Beckham's and Miss Adams' memories when we returned him to his home. The kidnappers were arrested and now await trial. Nothing leaked out to media, sir," Harry told him. "We've learned that a Death Eater, Mafalda Prewett, is targeting Muggle celebrities. We have reason to believe she is planning to destroy our community by killing or torturing them in a public Muggle arena, possibly in front of television cameras. That would reveal our world to the general Muggle public."

The Muggle Prime remained silent as he digested Harry's words.

"Do you understand what that might do, to both of our worlds," Kingsley asked him.

"From what I know of your world, it would cause mass hysteria among my people," he answered.

"And it would destroy our community. However, I believe the death toll would be mostly Muggles." Kingsley added.

"Do you need our assistance to avoid this situation?"

"Yes," Harry replied. "We would need your police to be on the lookout for Mafalda, but not to arrest her if they find her."

"We can do that."

"This is very important, sir. She will kill any Muggle who tries to arrest her," Harry clarified. "And it would also be a good idea to keep a close eye on your celebrities."

The Muggle Prime nodded, thinking of the Royal Family. "Minister Shacklebolt, Mr Potter, I shall put my people on this right away. If we should happen to find your Miss Prewett, we'll certainly be in touch."

"Thank you, Minister," Kingsley said. "If you have no questions, we'll take our leave."

"No, no. I'm perfectly clear on it all," the Muggle Prime assured him. "Good day to you gentlemen."

Harry and Kingsley Flooed back to the Ministry. "Well done, Harry."

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Astoria stared in shock at Draco. "You did what?"

"I asked Potter for help to have Mafalda arrested."

"Why would you ask him for help?"

Draco took Astoria's hand. "Because she tried to Imperius me, commanding me to break up with you," he said urgently. "But I won't do that. I... I can't." He told her how Professor Snape had taught him to defend his mind while still presenting the illusion of compliance. "We'd better Floo to your family this weekend. I can't be seen outside your family's home in case someone's watching it."

Astoria had been uncertain as to what exactly what he wanted from their relationship, although it had become quite serious since that night in front of the fire. But the sincerity in his clear grey eyes wiped away any doubts. He was serious about their relationship and she knew that now. She had no intention of letting him go for anything. "I'll tell them. They're very curious about my boyfriend," Astoria smiled. "And I can't wait to see my sister's face."

That weekend, Draco was well received by the Greengrass family that weekend, and Daphne's face was well worth the anticipation Astoria had for it.

As the days passed, Draco had no word from Mafalda through the Imperius or otherwise. For some reason, she was keeping a low profile. Draco felt uneasy about that, because he had no way of knowing what she was up to. There had been no word from the Auror Office either, although Draco felt a modicum of relief to know that Potter and Weasley were in charge of it now, but the waiting had become excruciating. It seemed as though both sides were waiting for the other to make a move.

By the end of April, Harry had settled in as Head Auror. His days had become routine, what with regular reports from his teams in the field and the endless paperwork that plagued any department in the Ministry of Magic. Wedding plans had picked up momentum. He'd been to Madam Malkin's for final fittings for his robes for the wedding, while Ron ordered matching ones as best man. Despite the total lack of other events, tension hung in the air like a pall. Harry was tired every day from the constant strain of maintaining full alert, so both he and Ginny fell into bed exhausted every night. She was studying harder than ever for her upcoming NEWTs.

On the last day of the month, a Muggle police officer was sent to investigate a suspected break in. The next series of events would change the monotony to non-stop activity for the new elite of the Auror Office.