Chapter 13 - I'm going to give an interview
Albus looked about excited 'This place is so cool!'
'Is it?' Harry asked letting drop the useless letters on the top of all the others, together with the groupies ones.
His office was kind of messy. Elizabeth many times had asked him to be allowed to tidy up, but he had refused. He was at easy in his disorder as, despite it was indeed very much so, he knew where everything was.
Maps were hanged on the walls together with wanted dark wizard's pictures, scrapes of newspapers and notes. There was an old sofa in the corner that was usually covered with papers of every kind. The desk was a quite old-fashioned dark one where piles and piles of files were amassed and there were usually many internal department memos flying lazily on the top of it waiting to be read.
It was quite spacious and had a big window covering the whole wall behind his chair. He loved it. There was a wonderful view of London. The same it was possible to admire from the top of the Tate modern, with the Thames flowing tranquil underneath, the Millennium Bridge and St Paul's. He had chosen it when he had taken possession of the office.
It was almost always sunny despite the real weather outside and since Lily's death he hadn't had not even a day of bad weather. He noticed it casually one day that he got there soaked caught in a pouring down on the way. In his office the sun was shining radiantly. He realised it was months since the last rainy day. He got snow right after it but when that melted, only gorgeous, beautiful skies.
It had been a heart-warming discovery. He had hastened to that department to discover who had shown so much sensitivity in his regard and had made acquaintance with a very shy, young, witch. She was short, with round glasses and a very bashful demeanour. When she saw him, she blushed until the top of her hair. He thanked her sincerely for the sun admitting it had been greatly appreciated.
She hadn't been able to do much if not blushing and say a few words but from that day he started to chat with her time to time when meeting in the hall or in the corridors and they got friendly, or as close as friendly as Harry dared to be considering past experiences. He couldn't trust women, like couldn't trust men for that matter, but women in particular being married and struggling to have a scandal-free life. Not even such scared, shy, little witches. Once he got to her desk when she wasn't there and he noticed a box open in a corner. Inside there were many of his memos for that department crumbled after their use and smoothen and kept by her. It made him smile but also reminded him to be more careful, everything he did or say was under scrutiny and could give space to misinterpretation. He couldn't allow himself to be imprudent not even when his intention was friendly, and he just wished for a chat.
Albus was in a flow of admiration for the landscape and Harry, to please him, sent her a memo informing of his son visit and asking as a favour if she could fix something nice in the morning.
A personal memo with my initials to add to her treasure box.
He thought smiling to himself.
Today I made somebody's day.
He realised how true it was when, not even five minutes later, while Elisabeth brought some biscuits, the sight from the window had totally changed. There was a savanna's landscape, with zebras and giraffes walking on the horizon. The sun, huge and orange was plunging quickly behind it. Albus was amazed and Harry was nonplussed.
Blimey! The girl has a real crush!
They ate their breakfast admiring the sunset, memos zooming around them. Rays of pink and golden lights were springing forth from the falling sun, colouring the scattered clouds with fluorescent oranges and reds. It was glorious.
When the sun disappeared completely a starry night followed, a starry night as Harry had seen only during one of his vacation, the James' one. The milky way was clearly visible, and the stars were so numerous it was breath-taking. And when he thought that it couldn't get any better, a rain of falling stars started to pour from the sky. Albus was all in a "uuuuh" and "aaahh", his nose pressed to the glass.
Harry was paralyzed by stupor for the effect that just a memo with his initials could produce and fleetingly allowed his usually non-existent vanity to be tickled imagining what may have happened in case of a more intimate encounter, the presence of his son on his side however, brought everything back to order in a blink reminding him to be even more careful in future. He didn't need any other groupie.
By the end of his coffee the city's landscape was back on. Londoners were walking briskly on the millennium bridge or stretching in the grass in front of the Tate, tourists were taking pictures and only two or three seagulls and few white and fluffy clouds disturbed the blue sky.
Albus had begun to move his curious gaze around to all the maps attached to the walls and it was caught by a drawing attached on a board.
'I made this!' he exclaimed in awe.
It represented Harry fighting a monster (allegedly Voldemort).
Harry was pointing a wand from which a yellow line sprouted hitting the monster right in the chest.
Underneath with an uneven calligraphy there was written "my Dad fighting You-know-who. Albus 7 years old"
Harry smiled seeing his son's expression 'Quite' he answered as Albus was reverentially touching the paper.
'You keep one of my drawings in the office...' he mumbled under his voice overwhelmed by emotion.
Harry laughed 'Well, yeah. You are my son. And the drawing is a good one, despite not very accurate Voldemort wise'
Albus gasped turning immediately to look at him 'Is it not? How was he?'
Harry got a flicker of a memory of Voldemort resurrection: the reptile kind of body stretching from the boiling potion, the red vicious eyes, the malevolent sneer…
'Different' he only answered cuttingly turning from his son and starting to busy himself with some papers on his desk.
Albus kept his gaze on him hoping for some more but when it was clear that nothing else would have been added continued his exploration in the room.
He was then captured by the mountain of letters piled in the corner.
'What are those?'
Harry explained to him.
'Don't you open them?'
'No, I usually don't'
'Why?'
'Because there are too many, it would be a full-time job. And anyway, there is never anything too interesting in them'
'Can I open some?' Albus asked rummaging between them.
Harry thought about the usual content of his letters and decided against it. You never knew what was written in them. Sometimes they would just be normal letters of sympathy but sometimes it happened to get some nasty one from deranged individuals. And he absolutely didn't want Albus to read the groupies one.
Before he could answer Albus had extracted one from the mountain 'This is from Quality Quidditch Supplies!' he exclaimed.
'That one you can open' Harry said distractedly collecting the memos.
He hadn't even finished the sentence that the letter was already out of the envelop.
'Dad they want you as sponsor for the new Firebolt!'
'Albus, they always want me as a sponsor for something or other' Harry answered absently starting perusing memos.
'But this is for the new Firebolt! For sure they will give you one for free if you do it!'
'I prefer to buy my own and not being used as a bait'
He never accepted this kind of offers even if they were very well paid. He was already popular enough without having posters of him in any magical aggregation and, in any case, they didn't need more money than what they already had. His salary was very good, and Ginny's wasn't bad either. Their Gringotts's vault was already full of gold. They could have lived easily without working if they just would have wanted to but they both liked their respective jobs.
'Do you know what? You can sort letters.' He said to keep him busy 'Make a pile with all is from witches and wizards and another with the one from shops and magazines, the last ones you can open if you feel like.' And, remembering about the groupies presents and Albus' propension for sweets, he added in haste 'And if you find chocolate, candies or any kind of drinks, don't touch them'
'All right, dad' Albus replied disappointed having already spotted some cookies in a bag.
The morning passed away busily for both, Albus stopping in his task whenever any of his co-workers entered his office to give updates or receive jobs and Harry explaining him afterward of the minutiae.
They even got a visit from the Minister himself to cosy Albus up with a present (a miniature of a Hippogriff that as soon Albus let it free started to chase memos on the ceiling) and an invitation to dinner for Harry. He had skipped three already with some excuses, so he was obliged grudgingly to accept it.
When lunch time approached two distinct stacks were in the corner instead of the messy mound.
The one from shops and magazine was very much shorter than the other but there were still at least thirty of them.
Fancying a walk, they made for the entrance, but a surprise was waiting for them. Reporters had been tipped off about Albus presence and they were waiting in a corner to try to speak to him or to get pictures.
He spotted them before they could spot him but nevertheless a walk was out of discussion. He had no choice but to send Albus home by floopowder and got back to his office greatly incensed determined to solve the situation in a way or other.
In the afternoon, just before to return home, he eyed the stack of letters Albus had sorted out and took his resolution.
Ginny was in the living room reading some correspondence she had received. Harry placed the letters with commercial propositions on the coffee table and announced 'I'm going to give an interview'