Chapter 7: An Auror Applies (Himself)

Harry did so wish those bloody cicadas would stop chirping.

He was burning the wand light at both ends, seated in the Burrow's kitchen, dark except for the light from Lumos Maxima, silent except for the scratching of his quill pen.

Pausing over the parchment, he took a moment to glance out the window at the peaceful, warm Devonshire night. Much as he had over the past two or three days (or had it been four?), he stared at the paned shutters, now closed to keep in the cool air conditioning, as if his hazel eyes alone could conjure an owl into being.

Would it really kill Hermione, or more likely Ron, to just dash off a note on a spare bit of parchment, even to just offer greetings? Knowing Hermione, she had everything planned down to the last detail, including how to compartmentalize her time, often right down to the minute. Still….. he would just love to know that they were OK. At least hear that they had reached Australia safely.

Harry turned back to the document placed before him.

They called it an Auror Registration Form. Supposedly, anyone who completed it would be accepted into boot camp, which was designed to weed out the weaker wheat from the stronger chaff, so to speak. Harry didn't think the process was streamlined enough – if there was one thing he had learned from leading the DA, it was that proper vetting needed to be put in place. He might have otherwise been tipped off about Marietta Edgecombe, that foolish friend of Cho's who had ended up selling them all out to Umbridge. Not that Marietta had signed up to intentionally get flipped into an Inquisitorial Squad informant. The example only made Harry feel more relieved that an actual mole hadn't infiltrated – say, a really smooth talking Slytherin.

Which brought him back to this form.

Registration for consideration in the Auror Department wasn't exactly hard, per se (completing the form was more strenuous in terms of its length). Harry supposed he should feel grateful that the price to just get in the door was this simple – Ron hadn't completed the form before he and Hermione had left, which even though that had left him free to jet off to Australia with his love, it now still left the ginger at great risk of missing the training window for the coming fall season.

Harry tossed down his quill and sighed. Maybe he (or better still, Hermione) should have pushed Ron into completing this registration form together. It was the kind of paperwork that was more bearable when done with a friend; Harry had actually turned to Neville Longbottom for help. The bloke was supposed to stop in by way of the Rook first thing in the morning so they could peer-review each other's work.

The Aurors called it a registration, yet it felt more like an application for all the time needed to put into it. Maybe what the Department really needed was an entire overhaul, starting with a more streamlined application system.

"Harry?"

He jumped and turned his head from where he had been resting it in his palm to find Ginny, her bathrobe tied around herself. Auburn hair done up in curlers, she almost looked like her mum, and he nearly made a smart quip relaying as much. Lest he inadvertently instigate a row and provoke a hexing Ginny so that the whole house was woken up, he kept silent.

She drifted over to him, working a massage into his shoulders. Kissed the curve of his neck. "Come to bed…." she cooed.

"Can't. I have to finish this section in time for Neville fresh in the morning tomorrow. He's coming round for a spot of breakfast, and we're going to compare notes."

Ginny consulted the form, blue eyes scanning. "Seems awfully hard…."

"Not hard, exactly – just long. All the stuff they say they have to know about you – like, who bloody needs to know how many assets I have in my bank account?" he tapped the parchment, baffled. "The Aurors shouldn't be selective based on how rich you are!" He folded his arms. "It sounds elitist – like they're no better than how the Death Eaters recruited. As if a Ministry Department is supposed to be viewed like a member of the Sacred Twenty-Eight!" He was ranting, he knew it – hell, so did Ginny.

His girlfriend pursed her lips in thought. "You're not just upset about this. You're mad that Ron and Hermione haven't owled."

Harry harrumphed. Trust his Gin to get right to the heart of the matter. The grumble turned into a sigh. "Yes, there is that."

Another beat. Then, there was a rustling as Ginny hiked up her bathrobe and swung creamy legs over his hips as she moved into his lap, straddling him. Looping her arms about Harry's necks, her lips began to blaze a trail to the hollow of his throat.

"Gin…." Harry grunted. "I…. I have to…."

"…. Make love to me. You have to make love to me," Ginny finished for him. She drew back and smirked at his slack-jawed expression, and all she had needed to do was nibble on his neck. "That's what you were going to say, right?"

Harry dumbly nodded his head. Bringing his mouth to hers hungrily, Ginny seductively slipped her bathrobe off of her shoulders so that it pooled with a rustle at the foot of his chair. Bunching her nightskirts up over her hips, she unzipped Harry's trousers and freed him.

They made love.

Harry regretted that it was too late to just turn and run away. He had at least three feet on this goblin in height, and yet somehow it was still possible to feel as if the little sprite was actually glaring down the end of its hooked nose at him.

Harry supposed the teller couldn't be blamed for that – not every goblin was like Griphook. ….. he thought. Honestly, he probably should have expected that the Gringotts staff would want to have a little chat with him, and not just about the balance in his family's account books – had he, he might not have made the appointment.

He suddenly wished Bill was about, and Harry even scanned around for him as the goblin led him from the lobby. Here he was, the Boy Who Lived, slayer of Voldemort, and yet he felt like he needed a bodyguard to shield him from being attacked.

Neville had dropped round the Burrow first thing this morning, encouragingly stuck on the same financial section of the Auror Registration Form. His old dormitory mate and classmate hadn't ever said so in so many words, but Harry suspected that Neville was now living at the Rook with his Luna just over the next hill – the man had simply walked up into the Weasleys' front garden.

Understanding what had to be done, the boys went in on it together and Harry had signed them both up for Financial Wellness appointments this afternoon at Gringotts. Neville and a goblin assigned as his 'financial manager' had already peeled off down into the vaults.

Harry now sped along in a mine cart, deep into the vaults of the wizarding world's greatest, most impenetrable bank – or, what had been its most impenetrable bank.

Pockets of daylight now filtered down into what should have near darkness and Harry glanced up:

There was still a dragon-shaped hole in the ceiling, miles above their heads. He could feel the goblin at his side glowering at him.

"Costs to repair that? Somewhere in the neighborhood of two and a half million Galleons."

Harry nearly fell off the cart. He cursed himself for actually turning red with embarrassment. He shouldn't have to apologize for doing what he'd had to do, and yet still, he felt sheepish.

"Er…. Would you accept a small investment on my part as compensation?"

The goblin sniffed. "So long as you can assure me the same monetary commitment from Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger."

…. Skinflint.

Arriving at the Potter family vault, the goblin opened it to reveal a giant pile of gold. Harry had never wanted for anything so far as his monetary inheritance went – the Dursleys had deprived him of other forms of wealth, such as love and attention. He hadn't even known how rich he truly was until Hagrid had first brought him here when he, Harry, was 11.

Harry consulted the portfolio the goblin had provided for him, making sure to carefully copy down the most important information required for the Auror Registration Form. He wasn't sure how Ron was going to be able to do this, when he got back and even with Hermione helping him. Harry had gotten a peek inside the Weasley vault once, tagging along on errands with Molly. They didn't have nearly as much as this, nowhere near.

…. Someday, if it were ever in his power, he would make sure this kind of elitist bullshit wouldn't be a hindrance to applying.

TWEEEEEEEEEEEET!

"HUHHHHH!"

Harry's ears rang from the piercing blast of the whistle, even as his body obeyed its command almost involuntarily. He dropped to the gym mat, a dull THUD echoing around the space as forty or fifty others performed the same strenuous workout around him.

Beside him, Neville was huffing and puffing. Harry had to consider the man fortunate that he had slimmed down so much this past term defending Hogwarts Castle from Death Eaters. If this were still pudgy, little boy Neville, he figured the fellow would have washed out at the end of their first day.

They were nearly through the first full week of Auror boot camp, and Harry had to now think Ron wise for not filling out the registration form before jetting off to Australia.

Just the same…

"If….. Ron and 'Mione…. don't get back….. soon… he's going to be….. really behind….. on the strength…. and conditioning….." Harry panted through reps of some high knees before the whistle was piercing and he and Neville hit the deck again.

"I say the lovebirds…. stay where they ruddy are…." Neville hissed, turning his head towards his friend. "I wouldn't come back…. if I knew this…. was what was….. waiting for me….."

Another drop and give me twenty.

"Have they called yet?" Neville picked up the conversation right back up following the push-ups.

Harry shook his head, gritting his teeth even as sweat started to pour into his eyes. "A simple postcard…. would be jolly well…. nice….."

The whistle again.

"Well….. they could have owled! Or….. Patronused…." Neville grunted through the exertion of more push-ups. "Decent thing to do. I get they….. want some alone time, but…."

"Reminds me:" Harry growled. "How are….." He scrambled back to his feet, ready for some more high knees. "…. you and Luna?"

"Bird's bloody beautiful….. and brilliant…. but her….. version of a cool-down…. is going for a….. hot shag… every night. I can barely….. make love to her…. my muscles are so damn…. sore!" Neville side-eyed him. "Gin's at least…. wise enough to not…. jump your bones…. after this?"

Harry just frowned with some bemusement, side-eyeing Neville right back. "None of your bloody business, mate!"

TWEEEET! Harry automatically dropped back into a plank position, his muscles howling in protest.

Even Apparating back to Devonshire that evening felt painful, and all Neville and Harry had to do to reach home was stand straight and turn on the spot. The act of walking itself was starting to become excruciating.

"Sure you don't want to defer and re-do seventh year, mate?" Neville asked. "Luna's been working her ways on me. She's only got one more term herself. I expect it'll be Ginny trying to persuade you next!"

Harry shook his head. "I've made hunting and defeating Voldemort my N.E.W.T.S, Longbottom. I'm done with school, and I'm quite sure Ron would agree!"

"Really?" Neville's eyes widened with intrigue. "Does Hermione know about this?"

Harry chuckled tightly. "If the man's smart, he'll tell the bird in Australia, while she's still distracted. Otherwise, there will be bloody hell to pay!" His uncomfortable laugh grew. "There's one row where I'll be grateful not to be on the same continent!"

Luna was waiting up for her lover on their approach to the Rook. Flitting down the stone steps, the pretty blonde threw her arms about Neville's neck and kissed him softly.

"Did a Lethifold stomp on you, love? You look exhausted!"

Neville glanced back over his shoulder at Harry, actually looking relieved and even hopeful that there actually might be no sex tonight after all. Harry smirked.

"Take care of him, Lu. Try to have a good weekend, mate!" Clapping Neville on the shoulder, Harry turned and walked the moderate distance down the hill and through the grassy meadows towards the Burrow.

Scarcely had he come through the gate when Ginny was mowing him down in a fierce hug, body quivering with excitement.

"Harry! You'll never believe it! Percy proposed!"

"He what?!"

"He just popped the question to Audrey, just now! And she said Yes! We're going to have another wedding!"

Harry laughed in shock. "Well, I'll be…..!" He hugged her. "Never thought any bird would have the stuffed shirt!"

Resting her head on his chest, Ginny glanced back to the Burrow's kitchen window, through which she and Harry could see Percy and Audrey kissing so thoroughly, it was hard to tell whose lips were whose.

Harry glanced down when he heard a sniffle. "What….?"

"I just wish…. Fred had been here to see this…." Ginny wiped at her eyes. "He would have taken the mickey out on Perce so hard…." She grinned wetly up at her boyfriend. "Re-remember when I first told the twins that Percy was dating that Penelope….?"

"…. and Fred dropped an entire stack of books on George's head!" Harry blasted. This sound was quickly followed by a hiss – Merlin, it even hurt just to laugh! "So….. do Percy and Audrey know when the wedding will be?"

"Audrey was babbling something about the end of this summer. I think the war taught them that they didn't want to wait any longer."

"Seems like a short engagement. Bill and Fleur were engaged for more than a year!"

"I don't mind," Ginny smiled. "I like Audrey – at least I like her better than I like Fleur, and Fleur's actually grown on me! Just so long as they don't get married until Ron and Hermione are back from Australia…."

"I know what you mean." Kissing the crown of her head, Harry grinned tiredly. "Come on. Let's give our congratulations to the happy couple."

He didn't even complain when a beaming Ginny, dragging him by the hand, forced his aching feet to break into a run for the front door.