Ministry Visit

Author's Note: ANOTHER double chapter drop?! Yes, yes it is. I'm going to be traveling the next few days and not sure how much I'll be able to update until Monday, so I thought I'd put out some extra chapters for you guys before I go 3 you're the best!

"And really well done tonight, everyone," I say, beaming around the room full of students. "You've all been working hard the past few weeks and it shows."

"Truly," James chimes in. "The Minister will have no choice but to be impressed tomorrow."

Angela and Asha Chang exchange excited glances and my heart clenches way up in my throat. Tomorrow.

I turn to where we shoved all the desks out of the way at the beginning of the lesson. "Professor Dumbledore? Anything you'd like to say?"

Professor Dumbledore scans the room from where he perches atop one of the desks. Whenever his gaze passes over someone, they straighten up, stand a little more alert. Even Sirius, ultimate victim of 'I'm too cool for any of this', tucks his wand away and gives Dumbledore his full attention.

I bite my lip as I wait for his assessment. Tonight's the first – and only – time Professor Dumbledore will sit in on a Defense Association meeting, and I worry what judgment he's about to pass. True, we have been working hard, and we've gotten through most of the list of defensive spells Professor Dumbledore had given me. Officially, we've only been meeting once a week, but James and I have both kept busy holding impromptu practice sessions throughout the last month and I doubt there was a single person here that only came to the Thursday night sessions. Even Jones Hawthorn the Slytherin made time for an extra practice session or two, usually in tow with Severus, who attended nearly all of mine.

Dumbledore's expression lightens with a pleased smile once he's swept through the whole room. "I quite agree with Miss Evans and Mr. Potter," he says. "You are a formidable group of students, and the Ministry is lucky to be meeting you."

I let out a quiet sigh of relief and hear James do the same. I catch his eye and almost laugh, but instead it turns into this weird moment where neither of us know what to do with the unexpected eye contact so I just smile a little painfully and he whips his attention back to Dumbledore, who's now detailing the plan for tomorrow.

"And now, off you go," he says when he's finished up, and claps his hands. "I look forward to tomorrow morning."

Everyone breaks up, chattering excitedly. Marlene and Alice flock to me but before we can whisk out the door, Dumbledore speaks again.

"Mr. Potter? Miss Evans? A word?"

"Should we wait?" Alice asks.

I shake my head. "I'll see you up in the dormitory."

It's a familiar routine, hanging back with James and watching our fellow students leave without us. He must be thinking the same thing, because while Carol shuffles out the door with one last reluctant glance at him, James looks at me deliberately for the first time all evening. He drops his gaze quickly.

I clear my throat. "It always seems to be the two of us, doesn't it?" I say.

He doesn't look up, just rubs his head. "I guess."

I swallow. "I only meant –" I start but get cut off by Professor Dumbledore, who approached us as the room emptied.

"You two have done well," he says.

"Thank you, sir," I say, giving him my full attention. Merlin knows I don't know how to interact with James lately and I'll take any distraction I can get. "Do you really feel we're ready for tomorrow?"

"Most definitely. But I did want to address some of my concerns about the Ministry visit with you both."

We wait.

"There was another Muggle attack recently, in London. The cover-up story was an earthquake, but it most definitely was not. Death Eaters took down a whole block of buildings, and multiple people lost their lives."

My mouth falls open and I feel the blood drain from my face. Not an earthquake. Buildings down. In London. Mum's letter on my birthday, three weeks ago.

"The Ministry did not respond," Professor Dumbledore continues quietly.

"They didn't?" James says angrily.

Dumbledore shakes his head. His long silver beard brushes his legs as he does. "No. It was a Muggle-only catastrophe. The Ministry didn't see it as their problem."

James swears, then quickly glances at me like he's expecting a reprimand, but I don't even care about that right now. "Lily?" he asks in concern.

"My sister was there," I whisper.

"What?" he says sharply.

I take a deep breath in. It shudders down my spine. "My mum wrote me about it a few weeks ago – she's fine, Petunia's fine – but it was a fluke she wasn't in the heart of the disaster. Any other day and she probably would have been one of the people who died."

James looks devastated. "And you didn't tell me this?"

When was I supposed to have told him? When we weren't talking? When we were avoiding each other? When he was making up excuses to dash off in the last few weeks before I could approach him to try and smooth over how our date had ended? Of course I didn't tell him. He hasn't given me the chance.

Dumbledore clears his throat. "It is imperative that we make a good impression with the Ministry tomorrow. Set the example. Perhaps, then, we might be able to sway Minchum."

"What difference can we make?" I ask.

"Well, first of all, many of you are not pure blood," Dumbledore says. "These attacks the Ministry ignored affect you. You have stakes in both the non-magic and magical sides. "

I nod, but James shifts awkwardly. He's as pureblooded as they come.

Dumbledore smiles. "That doesn't discredit you, Mr. Potter," he says gently. "Purebloods like you and Mr. Black and Mr. Longbottom are the bridge. You all have more sense than those running the Ministry right now, and, disgusting as it is, they might listen to you because of your blood status. Whatever ways we can form alliances with the Ministry is for the best."

James frowns.

"Tomorrow is just the first step," Dumbledore assures us. "Tomorrow, all we need to worry about is making a good impression. Make the Minister see what he stands to lose if our Muggle counterparts continue to be targeted by Voldemort."

"Right," I say.

"Rest up," Professor Dumbledore advises. "I will see you both tomorrow morning."

We say our goodbyes and leave together. Again, there's that sense of familiarity, us departing Dumbledore's company together, but the silence is stilted and impenetrable, so instead we walk all the way back to Gryffindor Tower without saying anything. I think of a dozen things I could say, but they all sound stupid in my head. "How have you been?" seems horribly mundane and draws too much attention to how little we've interacted lately, "What do you think of what Professor Dumbledore said?" is too obvious, and "Please talk to me" is just way too pathetic.

So by the time we reach the Fat Lady and James gives the password, it's the first time either of us have said anything since we left Dumbledore.

But I can't just let him walk away after we go through the portrait hole.

"So..." I say, and he stops without turning around before hoisting himself through. "See you in the morning?" So enduringly stupid.

"Obviously," he says. His hands stay planted on the ledge. "I'm not going to blow it off or anything, if that's what you're worried about."

"No," I say quickly. "I just –"

"See you tomorrow," he cuts across me, and by the time I follow him into the common room, he's already gone.

Dear Petunia,

I know this must be a huge shock, receiving a letter from me. And I don't even know if you'll open it and read it, or if this letter is destined straight for the bin. Or maybe even the fire.

But I can't leave things the way they've been for the last couple months. Especially with what's happened.

Mum wrote me a few weeks ago about your accident, and while I'm glad it wasn't anything worse than what happened, I was devastated to hear the news. I'm SO sorry about your leg, and your office, and hope you're healing well and that Vernon is taking good care of you while you mend up. And I'm sorry for not reaching out sooner.

I know we won't ever be close like we used to, but I hope – I HOPE – we don't stay enemies like this forever.

You don't have to respond.

But I do hope you read this and know your sister loves you and worries about you and wishes you the best.

Love,

Lily

An hour after breakfast the next morning, Marlene, Alice and I make our way back down to the Great Hall. The rest of the school goes about their regular schedules, but all students in the Defense Association have been dismissed from their morning classes so we can meet with the Ministry at ten. Already, the space has totally transformed. The four long House tables are gone, leaving the room spacious, but even more different is the group of serious-faced, unfamiliar witches and wizards conversing with Professor Dumbledore. Professor Slughorn's there too, though with his smile and the way he bounces on the balls of his feet while he talks, he looks terribly out of place.

Then I catch sight of the Minister and forget all about Slughorn's enthusiasm.

"There he is," I say quietly to Marlene and Alice.

"Who?"

"Minister Minchum. Right there, talking to Professor Dumbledore."

"Not the friendliest looking group he brought along with him, are they?" Marlene says, eyeing a fierce-looking wizard with a mane of grizzled silver hair standing at Professor Dumbledore's shoulder.

The rest of the Defense Association starts to arrive shortly after we do, coming in twos and threes. They clump together and dart furtive looks at the Ministry employees, whispering like we are. I exchange tense smiles with Angela and Asha. Severus sends a quick wave when he comes in with Hawthorn, and I nod back, but I'm too distracted to go talk to him. Movement in the corridor beyond him has caught my attention, and I'm almost positive from the flash of untidy black hair that it's James. He rushes past the open door without a glance. I've been watching for him ever since Remus, Sirius, and Peter arrived several minutes ago without him, wondering if the weird divide between us would continue even in the face of this momentous event.

What's he doing?

"Um, one minute," I mumble, cutting Marlene off mid-sentence, and I dart across the Hall out the side door.

James startles when I crash into him stopped on the other side of the doorway and peering around the corner.

"What are you doing, stopping right there?" I mutter, rubbing my arm where it collided with his elbow.

"Well, I was going for stealth but that's not an option anymore, thanks to you," he says, annoyed as he straightens up.

"What do you mean?" I ask, but before he can answer, someone drawls from further down the corridor, and I spin in surprise.

"Here to welcome us, Evans?"

"And just what do you think you're doing here, Rosier? And you brought all your little buddies with you, how nice." Without thinking, I draw my wand. Between the complications with Emmeline, the stress Severus is under spying on them, and, you know, the attack on my life over holidays, the sight of the four of them here, surely about to wreak havoc on this Ministry visit, is enough to make my anger louder than any rational thought.

"Careful, Lily," James murmurs, but I'm so beyond being careful. Let Rosier try and attack me in front of Ministry employees and Professor Dumbledore. Then at least I'd finally have some proof that he's straight up evil.

"Yes, careful, Evans. Don't want the Minister to see you insulting his special guests, do you?" Rosier clicks his tongue. "That wouldn't be a good look for you."

"What are you talking about?" I demand.

"The Minister invited us himself," Mulciber says, looking smug.

"What?" James says.

"Not the only one with connections in high places, Potter." Regulus smirks. "My blood-traitor big brother might have turned his back on it, but the name Black carries just as much influence as yours. Maybe even more."

"You lot and your weird obsession with family names and blood lines," James says. "It's disgusting."

"What's disgusting is your willingness to sully the Wizarding world with Mudbloods like her," Rosier says, jerking his chin towards me. "Have you no shame?"

And even though he was just the one cautioning me, James whips his wand up faster than I can react.

There's a bang and Rosier falls to the floor.

"James!" I shout in reprimand. The last thing I need is for them to hate him as much as they do me. I rush forward to see the damage done to Rosier's face, but Regulus and Mulciber loom threateningly over him, wands drawn.

"I'm trying to help!" I say, exasperated.

"I don't want your help, Mudblood!" Rosier spits. He glares up at me and his face and hands are covered in blood, a whole river of it sluicing from his nose.

"Too bad," I say, and point my wand at his face before the others can react. "Episky!"

Rosier roars, but that's to be expected; it can't feel too pleasant to have your nose popped back into place. I don't super care though. And at least the blood's stopped. Rosier reaches up to gingerly feel his nose and winces. "Damn it, Evans!"

"You're welcome," I say coldly. "Now can you clean yourself up?" I ask. "Or do you need help with that too?"

Rosier glares but wipes his face clean magically.

"You better watch yourself," Regulus says, but he's not talking to me; it's James he directs his anger at. "You pull something like that again and you won't still be standing there."

"I'd like to see you try," James says. His hands curl tight at his sides, the knuckles on his wand hand prominent and white. "Say something like that again and I won't be so kind."

Professor Slughorn pops his head into the hallway. "Mr. Rosier, you out here? Oh!" His eyes travel over James's tense stance, Rosier crouching on the floor, my drawn wand. "Last minute practicing, I see!" Before I can protest, he directs his next words to the Slytherins. "Minister Minchum wanted a word with you before we start." He shakes a finger at James and me. "And you two best come in as well, we're about to begin." He pops back into the Great Hall, trusting we will follow.

Rosier gets roughly to his feet and shoots James and me one last smoldering glare before heading through the door after Slughorn, Regulus, Lestrange, and Mulciber following. After a moment, James and I enter too.

"James, you really shouldn't have done that," I whisper anxiously at his back as we weave through the crowd that has swollen in our absence. Everyone must be here by now, and they're clumped towards the head of the room where Professor Dumbledore and Professor Slughorn still confer with the Ministry officials.

"Me?" James asks incredulously, glancing back over his shoulder at me. His eyebrows raise higher than the frames of his glasses, and I falter, surprised by how irritated he looks.

"Yes?" I say, but it comes out like a question. I shake my head. Rosier's dangerous, I'm right to be concerned. I don't want him putting himself in harm's way just for my sake. "They're already volatile enough without you trying to start fights."

James runs a hand through his hair, and it points in all directions as a result. He looks a little wild, but mostly he just looks frustrated. "Are you seriously upset I defended you? I can't handle you right now, Lily."

Sorrow mingles with my frustration; I'm trying to help, but everything I do lately seems to be the wrong thing. No matter what I do, we end up here. "Just right now?" I retort.

I expect him to at least roll his eyes, maybe even deny the accusation that he always seems to be irritated at me lately, but he just stomps away to the rest of his mates. Mine, unfortunately, are only a few paces away from them, and I join with much less fanfare, irritation and hurt warring in my chest.

"You okay?" Alice asks, her eyes flicking between James and me.

"Fine," I mumble. I watch Sirius ask James something and am not surprised that when James answers, they both turn to look at me. Normally I'd drop my gaze but instead I hold James's eyes. What's going on with us? Why can't I get anything right with him lately? Just talk to me, I plead silently.

But I can't read his expression, can't fathom what his eyes say back. All I know is that he looks a lot less angry and a lot more regretful when Minister Minchum fires his wand off with a bang from the front of the room. James shakes his head slightly and turns his back on me again.

Shaken, I try to focus on the Minister. He sweeps steel-grey eyes over us. Everyone has fallen silent under his and his Aurors' stern presence.

"Headmaster Dumbledore has informed me that you have been preparing for our arrival the last several weeks," Minchum says. His voice resonates as commanding and as sharp as his gaze. "He told me you all have the makings of formidable Ministry employees, particularly in these unusual times."

Nobody says anything, but there's a collective intake of breath at the mention of unusual times. Unbidden, I dart my eyes to where Rosier and his crew have settled at the very front of the crowd, like they're flaunting their right to be here, though several members of the Defense Association cast them confused looks. Unusual times indeed, when the Minister himself puts trust in families like that.

Cold distrust washes over me. Rosier said the Minister invited them. Did... did that mean the Minister himself had already been corrupted? Great Merlin, what if he's working with the Slytherins? That'd make sense, then, how they knew how to get into the Potions stores during Slughorn's party.

And if he was working with the Slytherins, does that mean he's also working with the Death Eaters?

I snap my attention to James, wondering if he's having similar thoughts, but all I can see is the back of his head.

"Get to it!" barks Minchum, and I jump. I missed the rest of his speech and I don't know what we're supposed to be doing. His Aurors move through the crowd, shouting instructions. One reaches our knot of Gryffindors.

"Partner up," he growls. The large scar slashed over his right eye pulls his eyebrow into a permanent scowl. "We want to see your best defensive work."

Right. Mock-dueling. I knew that. Again, I look at James. I desperately want to partner with him and run my thoughts by him, see if I'm being paranoid or not. See if we can't work together again. For once. We used to be so good at things like this.

"Do I need to assign you partners?" the Auror asks. Like we're children. We shake our heads, and he growls, "Hurry up then," before moving on to the students behind us.

Now's my moment, but before I can ask him, James turns to Sirius, and I deflate. Of course James wouldn't give me the chance to ask him. However, Sirius shakes his head.

"No," he says. "Evans is going to be my partner."

"I – what?" I ask, but he grabs my arm and hauls me away to a spare stretch of open space by the wall, out of earshot of the rest of our mates. Alice looks baffled but James shoots us an anxious look. He widens his eyes at Sirius, but Sirius deliberately turns his back on him.

I similarly drag my attention off James. "So," I say to Sirius.

He folds his arms. "Evans," he says, and I'm surprised to find him scowling at me. He's the one that dragged me over here. "I have words to say to you."

I glance over. James still watches with a frown.

"Doesn't look like your mate wants you talking to me," I say, jerking my head towards the mate in question.

"Well, he's right stupid when it comes to you," Sirius growls. "I don't care what James thinks – you need talking to."

"Alright, alright!" Minister Minchum bellows. Everyone's partnered up by now and facing their partners several paces apart. Carol tugs James's arm to get his attention; I guess with Sirius tied up with me, she's James's partner instead.

We listen as Minchum outlines the plan. We're to mock-duel, and we should show off a wide array of both offensive and defensive magic, as well as counter-jinxes for anything we get hit with. "My employees and I will be circulating the room to watch you work."

I turn back to Sirius.

"So, you want to start this, or should I?" I ask.

"Go ahead," he retorts, gesturing at the space between us.

Despite the fact that this morning has been what all those practices have been building up to, my heart's not in it. Sirius easily deflects my first spell and I only just dodge the one he sends in return. My next spell lands, but it's weak and Sirius quickly puts out the small resulting fire. I make the mistake, though, of letting my guard down while he deals with it to flick my gaze in James's direction again. He's already watching us, but when I meet his eyes, he snaps back to Carol as if I'd burned him too.

Sirius's spell hits me in the chest like a rock.

"Ow!" I shout, and I reflexively fire a Stinging Hex.

"Finally, some effort," Sirius taunts. My spell bounces harmlessly off his Shield Charm.

"What is wrong with you?" I shout. "I wasn't ready! You're not supposed to actually be trying to take me down!"

"That wouldn't have hit you if you'd just paid attention where you're supposed to instead of spending so much time glaring at Prongs," he says.

I focus my glare on him instead and fire off another spell. Sirius is ready, and our magic collides with a glare of purple-white light.

"What the hell kind of game do you think you're playing with him, anyway?" Sirius says.

"What kind of game I'm playing?" I put up my own Shield Charm to parry off Sirius's attack and send a hurricane of sand his way.

"Yes, you." Sirius transfigures the gritty storm to water and it sloshes to the floor. "Merlin, Evans. You don't even care what you're doing to him."

"Is it the sulking again?" I ask. I push my hair out of my eyes where it's started to slip out of my ponytail. "Because I've said it before and I'll say it again: it's not my bloody job to keep James Potter's mood up just so the rest of you don't have to deal with him when he's upset." I focus my wand on the puddle at Sirius's feet and draw the water up. It expands, stretching to tunnel around him, but before I can bring it crashing down, it bursts apart and the spray of water rushes at me. I Vanish it, but not before it soaks me. So much for getting my hair out of my face; soggy strands cling to my forehead and cheeks, and my ponytail is a limp knot at the base of my skull. "Agh. Give me a moment," I say, annoyed.

"This isn't about his bloody mood," Sirius says, relaxing his stance as I start to detangle my wet hair. He, of course, is perfectly, irritatingly dry. "Although Merlin knows it'd be nice if you did care."

"Then what exactly is the problem?" I finally work the hair tie out of the mess and start to comb my fingers through, wincing whenever I yank against a knot.

"Look. If you don't fancy him, would you just let him go? I don't know what kind of sick fun you're getting out of dragging him around the way you do. I didn't think you were the kind of bird to do that, but apparently, I was wrong."

"I am not dragging him around," I say, stung.

"Then would you just snog and make up? You're killing him, Evans, and I don't appreciate it." Sirius glowers at me, but I glower right back.

"Why do I have to be the one doing the making up?" I demand. I wind my hair back into a knot, this one tidier, and secure it. "James is the one who needs to apologize. He's been the one avoiding me, he's the one who won't tell me anything."

"Oh, great Merlin!" Sirius explodes. "It's not all about you! Just accept there's some things he's not able to tell you and get over it!"

"Or you could get over it and let him tell me!"

"This is bigger than you, Evans. James is right to keep you out of it."

I don't say anything in response. I'm so mad my next spell goes completely awry and smashes a sconce on the wall. One of the Ministry officials sighs and fixes it. I look away quickly before she can figure out it was me who did it.

It's Sirius's turn to attack, but he doesn't. He stands there frowning, his wand only halfway up. "You're killing him," he says again, and it's gentler this time. Maybe even weary. "You don't know the hold you have on him. The hold you've had on him for years. Been right annoying dealing with it sometimes."

My face floods with heat and I scowl at the floor, not meeting his eyes. It sure doesn't feel like I have anything over James these days.

"But it won't last forever," Sirius says, and my head snaps back up. "There's only so much pushing away a bloke can take."

"What's that mean?"

"You're a smart bird, Evans. Work it out for yourself."

I stare at him. He can't mean...

"What are you going to do about it?" Sirius challenges.

The Ministry official who fixed the sconce sweeps over to us before I can respond. "Less chatting, more spell work," she snaps. "Let's see what you've got."

"Yes, ma'am," I say.

I face Sirius and he cocks an eyebrow at me. What are you going to do?

I raise my wand and begin.

Sirius and I throw ourselves into the mock-duel, and I revel in losing myself in the magic, the all-consuming nature of anticipation and adrenaline and momentum. It's not hard, because he's really good, and I feel my body settle into the familiar rhythm of a good fight. Dueling Sirius is actually alarmingly similar to when James and I used to practice together before holidays; I can tell the pair of them have spent a lot of time together, the same way you pick up other peoples' speech patterns when you hang around them a lot. Their spellwork habits are the same. The only difference is Sirius's relentlessness. I have to be quicker, more alert, battling him than I do James. I hate to admit it, but working with Sirius probably makes me look better than I would have dueling James.

"That will do," the Ministry official finally says, and she sounds grudgingly impressed. I drop my wand, panting. Sirius does the same, pushing his hair back off his face. A sheen of sweat glistens on his forehead.

"Not too bad, Evans," Sirius says, his eyes glinting.

"You either," I say.

Someone claps and I look around, confused, only to realize much of the Hall halted their practice to watch Sirius and me. Minister Minchum hasn't moved from the front of the room, but his expression is full of calculated interest as he studies us.

"Let's have another demonstration, shall we?" he says. "Volunteers?"

Several students throw excited hands in the air and Sirius and I step out of the way so the next pair can have a turn. Sirius falls in with Remus and Peter, and I find my way to Alice and Marlene.

"Well that was certainly something," Marlene says as we watch Percy Proudfoot and Steel Savage exchange blows. "Like, I knew you were good, Lil, but where have you been hiding that?"

"Thanks," I mumble. "I didn't mean to cause a scene and have everyone watch."

"We couldn't help it," she says. "You guys were really going at it. What'd you say to Sirius to set him off like that?" She raises an eyebrow. "Or was it something he said to you?"

"It was nothing," I say. "We were just practicing."

"Whatever you say..."

In the end, everyone takes a turn showcasing their skills. I'm pleased to see how well everyone does; the hard work and time we've put into fine-tuning our defensive magic has really paid off. The only damper is when James and Carol take a turn. I have to look away while they play off each other. I'm petty enough to wish Carol isn't as good as she is, and the ease in which they trade off attacking and defending is just more evidence of their history together. It makes me a little queasy to watch.

After that, those of us who have mastered patronuses demonstrate those, too. Nearly all the seventh years have managed it, as have a decent chunk of the sixth years, though notably all of the Sytherins except Hawthorn hang back. I'm among the first to cast mine, and I catch Sev watching my doe with wide, envious eyes, the silver gleaming off his irises. Even though he's known what my patronus is, I realize this must be the first time he's seen it.

When it's James's turn, he hesitates the briefest of moments with a glance at me. I'm reminded of that first patronus class at the beginning of the year, when he didn't cast his. I still don't know if it was so I wouldn't hate him more for matching me, or if it was because he didn't want anyone talking. I tilt my head, like, go ahead, and a moment later his stag trots through the crowd. I keep my face impassive as a few of the students whisper and smirk at me. It doesn't mean anything.

When Elvie Bell from Hufflepuff finishes showing off her patronus, Professor Dumbledore claps his hands. "Well done," he says, smiling at all of us. After the clinical attention from the Ministry employees, his warm demeanor is particularly welcoming.

"But what about–" James starts, but Dumbledore shakes his head once, hard, and James clamps his mouth shut, looking confused. I know he'd been about to ask about the patronus messages, but I'm glad Dumbledore's stopped him; with the Slytherins here and my own worries about the Minister himself, I don't think we'd want them to know what we could do with the patronuses.

"I'd like to invite you all to retire to the chamber off the Hall for refreshments," Professor Dumbledore continues like there'd been no interruption at all. He smiles at the Ministry employees. "Feel free to mingle with the students."

Minchum hesitates and for a moment I think he might refuse, but then he inclines his head in agreement. "Very well." He flicks his eyes over us. "There are some students I wish to speak to."

Several of the students around me exchange excited looks.

We follow Dumbledore to a moderately-sized chamber I've never been in just off the right of the Great Hall, furnished with various seating options and a long serving table laid with a lunch spread. My stomach rumbles at the sight of food and I check my watch. It is nearly noon, and we've been working hard the last couple of hours. Soon the Great Hall will fill with the rest of the Hogwarts population for lunch as well.

We flock to the food, filling plates with sandwiches and fruit and crisps. I go to take a seat on some cushions on the floor with Alice, Frank, and Marlene, but Professor's Dumbledore's voice halts me before I can settle in.

"Miss Evans? Mr. Potter? Will you come over here, please?"

So with a shrug to my mates, I head to where Dumbledore sits with Minister Minchum and the same Auror who'd first assessed Sirius and me during our duel practice. James is right behind me and we awkwardly take the two remaining seats at the small round table. I do my very best to avoid brushing my arm against his as I settle in.

"Minister, I believe you know Miss Evans and Mr. Potter," Dumbledore says.

"Yes, I've known James for some time through his parents, and I met Miss Evans shortly before Christmas," Minchum answers. "Your Head students, correct?"

"Correct," Dumbledore says. "And, as such, they organized and instructed this group."

"Impressive," Minchum says. He takes a bite of his sandwich. When he sets it back down, there's mustard on his upper lip, and he dabs it while he speaks. "Miss Evans?"

I clear my throat, glad I've been too on edge to start eating yet. Lunch with the Minister, great Merlin. "Yes, sir?"

"That was very impressive spellwork earlier. You and Mr. Black, was it?"

"Yes, sir."

"Of course I know Mr. Black's family, but I must say your surname is unfamiliar to me. I don't believe I know any Evans."

"No, you wouldn't," I say. I clench my hands tight in my lap. "I'm muggle-born."

Minchum pauses, then slowly lowers his napkin. "I see." He turns to look at Dumbledore. "Interesting choice, Headmaster."

James shifts, and his knee knocks mine under the table. It stays there, a warm point of reassurance, and I have to stop myself from looking at him. Frustrated as he is at me, odd and off-balance as our relationship has been for weeks, he still has my back. Every time.

"Interesting collection of students overall," Minchum continues. "Not inviting Vincent Rosier's son today? And putting Robins in the mix? Interesting, indeed..."

"It's almost like someone's parentage has little to do with how good of a witch or wizard they are," James says, and I have to remind myself James already has a first-name relationship with the Minister to keep from hyperventilating at the blatant disapproval in his voice. Although I have no clue what Minchum's distaste of Carol is, even if I whole-heartedly agree.

But Minchum just smiles at him, suddenly indulgent. "Now, now, James. Don't go accusing me of prejudice. But you can't deny that those of us with magical parents are generally more capable than those of us without. Look at your friend Mr. Black. Phenomenal spellwork."

"Lily was in that battle, too," James says.

"Of course," Minchum agrees. "But there are always bound to be exceptions. No offense, of course," he adds to me.

I just raise my eyebrows. No offense? What does he even expect me to say to that?

"But the rest of the standouts today are all the ones I'd expect. Yourself, Mr. Black, and, of course, the students I invited myself – Mr. Rosier, young Mr. Black, Mr. Lestrange, and Mr. Mulciber."

"That's it?" James demands.

Minchum scans the room, and I follow his gaze. I'm disheartened to see most of the Ministry employees seated with Rosier and his crew or lounging against the wall. Professor Slughorn looks disgruntled he hasn't been invited to join the Minister at our table – he keeps glancing over – but he's attempting to to cover his disappointment by engaging with the Slytherins and their Ministry companions. One of the Ministry members has chosen to sit right next to Severus, and he seems uncomfortable as bends forward over his plate, hair almost entirely obscuring his face. A wizard that looks so like Frank he could only be his father has joined him, Marlene, and Alice, and a couple others have attempted to join Sirius, Peter, and Remus in the cluster of armchairs on the far side of the room. However, Sirius blatantly ignores them, his seat charmed to skuttle about so that no matter where the Aurors try to approach him, his back is always to them. I stifle a grin.

"Mr. Longbottom was wonderful," the other Ministry employee at our table says. I'd almost forgotten she was here. She nods at us, her short brown hair bobbing. "Harriet Ashe, Head of the Auror department."

"Hi," we say back.

"Yes, you're right," Minchum agrees. "He was brilliant. But just further proves my point – another pure blood."

"I'd like to think many, if not all, of my students were wonderful today," Professor Dumbledore says placidly. He plucks grapes off the stem as he talks. "Regardless of their blood status."

"Oh, they were perfectly adequate," Minchum agrees. "I'm just saying no one surprised me. The ones I expected to perform phenomenally did, and the rest faded into the background."

"I did," I say quietly, and the Minister pauses before he can bite into his sandwich again.

"Excuse me?" he asks.

"I surprised you," I say, and James exhales a quiet huff of laughter next to me.

"Well..." Minchum trails off, and I think I've surprised him again. He doesn't quite know what to say. Beside him, Ashe catches my eyes and smiles. I've surprised her, too, but in a good way. "I suppose so. But," he says, regaining his confidence, "like I said. There's always bound to be exceptions."

"Of course," I say, smiling politely. My hands are still clenched in my lap. I haven't even attempted once to touch my food. I'm sure I'll find little crescents etched into my palms when I uncurl my fingers later. "Just like there are exceptions to the people who deserve to be protected."

"Well," Minchum says again. Now he looks uncomfortable as he sets his sandwich down. He addresses Professor Dumbledore. "I see you've been sharing your thoughts with your students, Albus."

"I think they have the right to know what's happening in the world, Harold," Dumbledore says.

"And why their siblings are almost dying," James adds. "We all know it's not freak accidents."

I'm so thankful for his support I could cry.

"Look," Minchum says, regaining control. "Ministry resources are limited. You know as well as I do the pressures we're under. Of course I don't want Muggles to die. But I have to make decisions, and the decisions I make prioritize the safety of the Wizarding population. You might have noticed the increased defenses around Azkaban, and with the recent appointment of Crouch to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, we're preventing more attacks on Wizarding families than ever."

"Witches and wizards don't just come from magical families," James says quietly.

Minchum regards us for a moment, frowning. "I wonder..." he says slowly, his eyes drifting back to Dumbledore, "if coming today might have been a mistake."

"I certainly hope not," Dumbledore says. "We have much we could learn from each other."

"Not if you continue to oppose my authority," Minchum says. He rises. Immediately his Aurors snap to attention. The Minister doesn't say anything else, just gives Professor Dumbledore, James, and me a curt nod before sweeping out of the room. The rest of the Ministry employees follow, leaving the students taken aback by the abrupt departure. Only Ashe lingers. She stands as well but pauses by my chair.

"Not all of us feel so indifferent towards our Muggle counterparts," she says quietly. "Send an owl if you have any questions for me. I'll see what I can do." Then she, too, leaves.

I look at James. "Did you hear that?"

"Yes," he says. He smiles grimly and looks past me to Dumbledore. "Looks like maybe today was successful after all."

"Indeed," Professor Dumbledore says, sounding pleased. He gives me an approving nod. "Well done, Miss Evans. I believe you just made an ally in the Auror department."