A/N - So sorry for being MIA. Exams combined with sickness is never a good thing.

Also, a friend of mine, Ms Velvela, made a lovely banner for this story which can be found on my profile page. And onward with the next chapter.

Chapter 22 - City and Denial (Prompts)

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It wasn't that Harry was in denial of this incredibly important thing he had done, but it was more of the fact that he didn't see his role in the Final Battle as more important than anyone else's. Just like every other altercation with Voldemort, he was convinced that the result was a combination of people willing to help him and simple bloody luck.

But no matter how many times he said this, it seemed to fall on deaf ears. And that was very much annoying.

"People like to believe in a hero, Harry."

Harry's glance fell on his best friend who sat beside him. "I'm not the only hero. What about all those who died to make sure that we succeeded? What about you and Ron?"

Hermione smiled lightly. "They haven't forgotten about any of us."

"Sure seems like it," he mumbled dryly. Not for the first time he felt the impulse to move away; go to a city or a country where no one knew his name and what he had done.

It was at that moment that Kingsley entered the Minister for Magic office, a grim expression on his face. "I'm sorry to keep you two waiting. It seems like everyone knew that Harry Potter had come into the building, besides me. I'm sorry about the mob below."

"It's fine," Harry said with a quick shake of his head. It really wasn't; but he wasn't going to say that.

Once Kingsley took his place behind the large desk that dominated the room, he looked at them both. "Where's Ron?"

Harry looked at Hermione, who shifted awkwardly in her seat. "He's at the Burrow, with the rest of his family." What she failed to say was how Ron could barely look at her before he had said that he should be with his family and Apparated without them. Hermione had clearly been upset before she had grabbed Harry's hand and brought him to the Ministry to take care of the business of Grimmauld Place.

Kingsley nodded in understanding. "How are they doing?"

"Not well," Harry said grimly.

Kingley's expression stayed passive as he asked, "What can we do for you?"

Hermione immediately looked at Harry expectantly, a silent nudge to continue.

"I was wondering," Harry began slowly, "if there is any reason why I shouldn't stay at Grimmauld Place."

"Actually," Hermione piped in with a small smile. "I was wondering about that. Harry would have gone last night if he could."

Kingsley looked at them thoughtfully. "All the wards are still up?" He waited for their nods of confirmation before he continued. "Then I see no reason why you shouldn't go back."

Harry looked pointedly at his best friend who sat up that much straighter. "What about other Death Eaters? What if they know the general area? Harry won't be safe whenever he goes in or comes out of Grimmauld Place."

Kingsley let out a small smile. "I had no intention of letting Harry be unprotected."

Harry immediately knew what that meant, and he wanted none of it. "No." They both looked at him in surprise. "I don't want anyone following me. I'm done with that."

"Harry-"

"I'm serious, Hermione."

"You have no choice, I'm afraid," Kingsley said seriously. "Now is a crucial time. We should all be careful. And that includes you."

Harry stayed stubbornly still. It would be great, just for once, if everyone could let him hide under the illusion that it was safe again. This was, after all, what he had been working towards for several years. He really needed the mental rest.

"There is one other thing I wanted to talk to you about, Harry," Kingsley said gently, his tone creating a feeling of dread within him. "We will be having a service tomorrow for all those who fell during the Final Battle." Harry's gut clenched, somehow knowing what the current Minister for Magic was about to ask of him. "There are many who want you to say a few words. I told them that it would be difficult for you," Kingsley continued cautiously. "But that doesn't mean that a lot of people wouldn't expect it."

Harry found himself shaking his head even before Kingsley could finish what he was saying. He couldn't do that. He couldn't speak. What was he supposed to say? There were others so much more articulate than him. He would mess it up brilliantly; say the wrong thing and be exposed for the fraud he was. "No." He couldn't. He just...couldn't.

He felt Hermione lightly place her hand on his, her touch gently prying his fingers from the fist he had created before entwining them around hers. "Let's go," she said gently.

He nodded, squeezing her hand in thanks. He didn't really want to discuss this right now.

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