Chapter 54: A Snake in the Grass?

Harry knew he shouldn't be feeling this nervous.

In his nearly eight years of service to the Auror Department, he had almost never had his boss, Gawain Robards, reprimand him, singled out or otherwise. Yet, Harry couldn't shake the insecure feeling that, in being summoned to his superior's office, that he had done something that would warrant his getting in trouble.

Nevertheless, he attempted to remain cool and collected as he knocked on the door to Robards' office.

"Enter."

Harry did so to find Robards glancing up from his desk. The man's expression was unreadable one way or the other as to whether this was to be a chewing out or…. something else.

"Ah. Potter. Good." Robards snapped a case file shut on his desk before standing and rounding the fine piece of mahogany. "Have a seat."

Harry sat, squirming a little to almost get acclimated to the chair. He hoped he wasn't radiating his nerves too much. "You asked to see me, Mr. Head Auror?"

"Gawain, lad, please! You're…. Godric, how old are you now, son?"

"I'll be 26 by the time the baby comes, sir," Harry straightened.

"Ah, yes. And how does Ginevra fare?"

"Well, sir, probably well enough that she could still hex you if she heard you using her full name," Harry quipped. He burst into laughter at his own joke rather awkwardly, petering off when Robards didn't join in, simply upturned his lips in amusement.

"My, my…. and she had your first little one…. Merlin, only a little more than a year ago?"

"We were surprised, to be sure."

Robards grinned knowingly. "Tread lightly, lad. There are bound to be plenty of Irish twin jokes – and they'll be all the worse considering your boys have Weasley blood in them."

Harry had, in fact, heard just such jokes from his colleague, Seamus Finnegan. He and Ginny had certainly been shocked when Ginny had fallen pregnant again a little more than six months after having James.

"It is to be another boy, yes?"

Harry nodded.

"Any names picked out?"

At this, Harry winced. "I have one…. penciled in. Gin and I are merely…. playing around with it."

"I see."

Harry squirmed in his seat, recalling with painful clarity the row he and Ginny had gotten into just the previous weekend, about what to name their second-born.

FLASHBACK

"I can understand wanting to use the name 'Albus.'" Ginny was pacing about their bedroom, putting far too much force into folding laundry. In any other context, Harry might have jokingly asked what his sock drawer ever did to her, but now was neither the time nor the place. His wife paused over the laundry basket. "Well, actually, bother it, I don't! What rationale is there for naming our son after a man who, for all intents and purposes, set you up to be murdered?"

"But I wasn't," Harry corrected.

She spun around, blue eyes flashing. "You were, temporarily, dead! Because Dumbledore sent you there to be killed! Don't…." Her voice faltered, cracking with emotion. "Don't tell me that I should just set aside what I saw with my own eyes: the body of the man I love, lying still and cold at Hagrid's feet! Honestly, it makes me wonder why we shouldn't just scrap the whole name…."

Harry winced. "All right, and what about the proposed middle name?"

Ginny glowered at him. "You should know damn well what my opinion on that matter is, so don't even try to be cute with me, Harry James Potter! I'm not in the Godricdamn mood!" She huffed, spinning about to face him. "What's wrong with partially naming him after my father, hmm?"

"Because your dad is too humble a man to accept the honor?"

Ginny raised an eyebrow. "All right, how about even just for a middle name? Suppose I set aside my…. misgivings about the Headmaster and we kept Albus for the first name?"

Harry gawked at her. "That's your idea of a compromise?!"

"Yes," Ginny sniffed. "What would be wrong with naming our son Albus Arthur?"

"First of all, because he's our son, not a battery! AAP? Really? All the bullies in school would have to do is add an R in there somewhere and the jokes write themselves! Poor lad would get the mickey taken out on him with cracks about health insurance, for Merlin's sake!"

"At least it's better than everyone making rude jokes about Asperger's," Ginny parried.

"Asperger's? Why would people make fun of him about Asperger's?"

"Well, I don't think it's any secret, Harry, that, considering the gene pool from your side of the family, there's a good chance our son might grow up to be a dullard."

Harry frowned at the not-so-subtle swipe at Dudley. "Now wait a minute – I know Dudley was an arse when we were younger, but that's a little uncalled for!"

"It isn't when our son's proposed initials would be ASP," Ginny quipped. "And that's not even my strongest objection!"

"Oh," Harry snorted sarcastically, folding his arms. "And what would your strongest objection be, Gin? Do tell!"

"I WILL NOT GIVE MY BOY THE NAME OF THAT…. MONSTER!" Ginny screamed, whirling on him. Her nostrils were flaring from how she fumed with righteous rage. "That man…. who did nothing to protect the children of our world from evil….."

"He protected all of you as best he could…."

"So doing next to nothing while letting the Carrows torture us was 'the best he could'?" Ginny scoffed. "I'm amazed you even got away with….. you know, Harry, you may have browbeat McGonagall and the others into honoring him on the plaque in the Great Hall, but you will never get me to honor him! He doesn't deserve it!"

Harry pursed his lips tightly. "I disagree. And I'm sorry you feel differently. But I happen to think that Albus Severus would be a fine name. It rolls off the tongue quite well, and I think it shows a measure of grace…."

"A measure of grace," Ginny repeated dubiously.

"Yes. I think when all is said and done, it would be…."

"Harry – this baby is our son, not an agenda!"

"We wouldn't make him one!"

"Really? Because from where I'm standing, you are!" Steaming, Ginny stormed out of their bedroom as best she could while only at the speed of a waddle, Harry staring sadly after her.

END OF FLASHBACK

"Potter? Something on your mind, son?"

Harry jerked sharply out of his musings, and cleared his throat. "Nothing. Home stuff, you know."

Robards nodded. "Well, I hope that I what I have to tell you won't add too much to your plate, here or at home." He took a deep breath. "I'm retiring at the end of this summer training season, Harry. I have spoken to Minister Shacklebolt…. and with his blessing, I have decided to designate you my successor…. as Head Auror."

Harry stared, amazed, terrified and elated all at once. "I'm….. I'm overwhelmed, sir. Thank you, sir, but….. I don't think I'm qualified!"

"Oh, poppycock!" Robards snorted. "The man who defeated one of the Darkest Wizards of all time, and he says he's unqualified! There is such a thing as too much modesty, son."

Harry smiled dryly, with a tinge of sheepishness.

"You must accept, lad. I have no one else in mind for the post. Besides, I wager the increase in pay will be much appreciated on the part of Ginny, especially once your boy comes."

Harry took a moment to think about it, then nodded. Rising, he enthusiastically pumped Robards' hand.

"I accept, sir! I hope to do you proud!"

"Oh, I have no doubt you will…." Robards eyed him with a twinkle.

Some months later, Harry found himself seated in a limbo of seemingly endless waiting.

He himself had actually briefly visited what he had taken to be purgatory, after Voldemort had destroyed the Horcrux inside him, and yet Harry felt that if he was forced to wait somewhere for forever or even what felt like forever, he'd rather take his chances in the King's Cross station purgatory than have purgatory resemble a hospital waiting room.

He cast about for reading material, his insides clenching with concern and some annoyance. He had been shocked when the orderlies had shooed him out of the delivery room as Ginny had lain on the bed, screaming her bloody head off in the pangs of labor. Perhaps the second child was the hardest, but that shouldn't have warranted Harry getting kicked out of his own wife's hospital room – he had been allowed to stay and be present for when James was born!

The only explanation he could come up with was that perhaps St. Mungo's had implemented stricter security measures in the sixteen months, give or take, since he had last been here.

"Wow, Scarhead: you look bored to tears."

Harry glanced up and was surprised to see Daphne Greengrass pondering him with a sympathetic smirk. The Chosen One felt embarrassed to admit that he didn't seek out his neighbor around the Hollow nearly as much as he should, even as he knew that Ginny wouldn't like it.

"Daphne…. What are you doing here?"

She jerked her thumb down the hall. "My sister is no doubt just a couple doors down from your wife, screaming bloody murder. The stubborn little cuss inside her womb just won't bloody move from where he's in breach! It would be just like a Malfoy to come out arse up….."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Really? Many….. happy returns to Astoria and Draco then. Are you excited to be an auntie?"

Daphne rolled her eyes. "If it's the closest I'll ever get to being a mummy, I'll be relieved!"

"Oh." Harry blinked. "So…. you're not married?"

She prominently lifted her index finger – had she not been pointing at it, Harry might have misconstrued that she was sending him a rude gesture. "Not married," she murmured.

A sudden shout came pinging from down the hall, echoing. Harry and Daphne shared twin grimaces.

"Which one of ours do you reckon it was?" the pretty Slytherin joked.

"Oh, that was Gin. I'd know her roar anywhere!" They both chuckled at this before the sound petered off into silence.

"Have you decided on a name?"

Harry huffed. "I think we'll be deciding at the last second – after a tug of war to the death."

"Hmm," Daphne demurred. "If only all wizards' duels were like that!"

"If only all rows, period, were like that," Harry snorted. "At least then, you'd be guaranteed that the only pain would be from falling flat on your face." He lifted his head from where it was between his knees and smiled grimy at her. "What about your little…."

"Oh, he'll be my nephew, Godric help us! And no, haven't a clue! Though I'd bet my Galleons on Draco naming him, the egotistical bastard!" Daphne studied him for a moment. "Where's your other boy? The little one? Merlin, he can't be that old – it seems like only yesterday his birth announcement was in the paper….."

As if on cue, Harry's Muggle mobile rang. "That's probably the little bugger now…."

Daphne guffawed. "You've already got him trained on Muggle devices….?" But Harry hardly heard the question while flipping open his phone.

"Hermione?"

"Hey. Any word? How's Ginny?"

"Wish I could tell you, poppet. The Healers kicked me out!"

From where she was sitting up on bedrest back at her home in Ottery St. Catchpole, Hermione gasped as she rubbed her ready-to-pop belly, all while watching her husband bounce their nephew in his arms over by the roll-away crib Harry had brought by some weeks before. "The audacity!"

"Yeah, well, tell Ronnie boy to brace himself. It'll be him in a beige waiting room twiddling his thumbs before long yet! Is your little bundle of joy still kicking?"

Hermione giggled, strumming her hand over her stomach. "She is at that."

Just then, Harry could hear his brother-in-law swear through the phone. "Bloody hell, mate! Your son pissed on me!"

"Whoops. Gotta go! Give Gin our love!" Hermione cringed.

"Bye, poppet. And thanks!" Clicking his phone shut at Daphne's bemused look, Harry shrugged. "Sister-in-law. She's right behind Gin, at any rate, with a little one due any day!"

"Ah, so it's kissing cousins, then?" Daphne's ice-blue eyes twinkled with mirth.

"Yes. If it isn't that, it's been jokes about how my sons are apparently Irish twins!" Harry shrugged when Daphne's expression didn't change. "I know – I didn't understand it either, when Seamus explained it to me."

Daphne giggled, and the conversation petered off into silence.

"Well, what have you been doing? Are you still over at Tomes and Scrolls?" Harry felt embarrassed that he hadn't kept track of even the basics of her life.

"Oh, I left that post years ago. Been bouncing around, doing this and that." She shrugged. "When you've got a stint in Azkaban, even a brief one pending trial, on your resume, it's hard to find work, and that's when you have an acquittal!"

Harry admired how she could make light of such a thing, even as his heart went out to her.

"What would you like to do? Supposing you didn't have that obstacle."

She seemed to actively consider the question. "I'd like to be an Auror, I reckon. I enjoyed doing that undercover work for your boss, years ago, right after the war. Remember that sting operation on McNair?"

Harry hissed. "Don't remind me – my brother-in-law took himself into retirement because of that operation."

Another roar came suddenly barreling from down the hallway. Harry winced. "That didn't sound like Ginny."

"No," Daphne was matching his cringe. "But that did sound like my sister." She smiled at him apologetically. "Gotta go…. But it was nice seeing you, even if not in the neighborhood. Don't…. don't be a stranger, yeah?"

She turned to leave and started to hustle down the hallway. After only a second of thought, Harry was springing out of his seat after her.

"Daphne? Wait a moment."

"OK, explain this to me: what spell – what….. Unforgivable Curse has this ex-con, Slyherin, baby Death Eater girl cast that suddenly makes you decide to hire her – a former dark wizard – to hunt dark wizards?" Ron damn near bawled, beside himself with bafflement as he followed his brother-in-law around the shelves of the Library of Merlinment, deep in the bowels of the Ministry.

It was some weeks later, and Harry was just finding his feet as the new leader of the Auror Department, even as he was still attempting to find his feet as a new father of two.

"Don't you have a wife and child to get home to? And funny – I thought you didn't work here anymore. Anyway, I'm the Head of the Department now, thus I can make those kinds of hiring decisions, so I just did it. Who cares?"

"WHO CARES?!" Ron nearly roared, and in the middle of a library. "How about your most loyal best mate?"

"Quiet in here, Mr. Weasley!" a white-haired lady suddenly materialized from almost nowhere, a zealous frown of disapproval on her face.

"It's him, Madame Pince, not me!" Ron turned back to his brother-in-law. "Look, you're supposed to be the hard-nosed, badass Head, not some bleeding heart taking on every ex-Slytherin with a rap sheet who needs a job!" Harry ignored him and continued on, thumbing the shelves until he selected the tome he was looking for, to better help him research a cold case file that was giving him a headache. Ron just pelted after him. "Do you think the Americans would have ever allowed a traitor like John Tyler back into the Union?"

"Who is John Tyler?"

"Exactly my point!" Ron cut into his path. "He was the 10th President of the United States, the first chief executive to ascend to power upon the death of a predecessor. After he left office and the Civil War broke out in the States, he sided with the Confederacy, and when he died he was buried under both the flag of the nation he betrayed and the defeated nation he had sworn allegiance to." At Harry's bemused look, Ron shrugged. "Hermione spent most of her pregnancy reading his biography to me; it was on her nightstand. Anyway, now the second cousin of my mum – you know, the one who's Muggle and an accountant, see – he's read every book that's ever been written about this bloke multiple times, and he put a picture of John Tyler in his refrigerator. Not on it! – in it." Ron took a deep, cleansing breath. "So my point is: if you only vet the best people, you're gonna end up on the cover of…. Witch Weekly, not to mention finally get your mug on a Chocolate Frog Card! If you hire Death Eater underlings as Aurors, you're gonna end up in my mum's second cousin's refrigerator."

"Why would your Mum's cousin put the picture of a dead President in his refrigerator?" Harry asked.

"I don't know! One of his crazy anti-government ideas! Look, I don't attempt to understand the minds of people I'm only distantly related to, Harry! – That's frightening territory!" Ron followed his sister's husband over to a nearby table, hovering as Harry attempted to review his research for this case. "How are any of us supposed to feel safe…. If you're off somewhere tracking Death Eaters with people who, for all we know, could be spies and moles?"

"No one's said anything about Greengrass being a mole!"

"Maybe not yet, my friend, but just you wait!" Ron warned him darkly. "Look: we need you on your A-Game, Chosen One. Big time!"

"Mr. Weasley!"

"Tried to tell him, Madame Pince!" Ron intensely studied Harry, who wouldn't look at him. "I really tried…."

And he stalked away, leaving his brother-in-law to ponder what he had just said.