Chapter 9 - Broomsticks and Bank Statements

May 18, 1998

The door to the Minister's office swung open, and Harry and Ron stepped inside. The room was spacious but far from the grand, polished office Harry had imagined for the office of the Minister for Magic. High, vaulted ceilings loomed overhead, and enchanted sconces cast steady golden light across the room. Boxes were scattered throughout—some neatly labeled with Kingsley's name, others still bearing the initials of his predecessor. Their contents spilled over with papers, books, and forgotten artifacts. A large oak desk stood at the center, its surface already cluttered with stacks of parchment and magical maps of wizarding Britain.

Kingsley stood near the desk, his gaze fixed on one of the maps. He nodded, deep in thought. He was a stark difference to the first Minister Harry had met. Cornelius Fudge may as well have been a Pygmy Puff by comparison. Kingsley's towering frame radiated quiet authority even amid the cluttered chaos of his new office.

Beside him, a second man turned sharply. Gawain Robards was everything Harry imagined a senior Auror to be—radiating authority and precision. His dark charcoal robes were tailored to perfection, sweeping over broad shoulders and a lean, athletic build. The silver embroidery along his robes caught the light as he moved. The Ministry's crest, stitched neatly over his chest, was a subtle but unmistakable badge of rank. Beneath his robes, sturdy leather boots hinted at readiness, and his posture was one of coiled vigilance.

His face was rugged, with a strong jawline lightly shadowed by stubble, and piercing blue eyes that seemed to cut through the room like daggers. As he regarded Harry and Ron, those eyes seemed to take the measure of them in an instant.

Harry was struck suddenly by the thought of a young, unmarred, Mad-Eye Moody.

"Harry, Ron," Kingsley said warmly, breaking the moment as he stepped forward to greet them. "Welcome. This is Gawain Robards, Head of the Auror Office. I thought it was time you met properly."

Robards extended a hand, his grip firm but respectful. His expression was unreadable save for the faintest flicker of appraisal. "I've heard a lot about you," he said, his voice deep and clipped, each word deliberate. "Some of it, quite unbelievable."

Harry caught a look of wary annoyance flicker across Kingsley's face, but he held Robards's gaze. Ginny's warning that there would always be people looking for reasons to doubt him until he proved them wrong flashed through his mind, along with Mr. Weasley's assurance that Robards would be someone Kingsley trusted implicitly.

"And yet, here you stand," Robards said. A fleeting pleased look flashed over his face but was gone just as quickly. "The Minister tells me you are considering taking part in Auror selection."

Harry nodded, noticing how easily the acknowledgment came. This meeting was the first step in something he never dared hope for. A future. He felt, for the first time, what he could only really describe as momentum.

Beside him, Ron nodded as well. Slower, and less sharply, but noticed that his eyes didn't waver when he did.

"You realize that while the Minister has relaxed the selection process, your success in Auror Basic Training will be the deciding factor with regards to your future in this department."

Harry nodded.

"We figured as much," Ron said casually.

Harry fought the urge to widen his eyes and wheel around in warning. What the hell was Ron thinking?

"You did, did you?" Robards said in that same clipped, deliberate voice.

Ron shrugged. "Well yeah. You can't have everybody who has a grudge against Death Eaters start joining to get their own justice," he said. "It'd be chaos."

Robards stared at Ron appraisingly and Harry caught on to what was happening.

"And we need to be better than any other Aurors," Harry continued for Ron. "From any other past administration. Because if we're not, then all of this," he gestured widely, "is just going to happen again."

Robards looked from him back to Ron, and then back to him again. Then a small smile curved one corner of his mouth. "I tend to agree with the sentiment," he said. He glanced over at Kingsley, who met his smile and nodded—and it was like a switch. Robards's entire demeanor shifted. The icy veneer evaporated. His posture relaxed, and his expression softened. The sharp edge faded, replaced by a sense of respect for the weight he was undertaking.

"Kingsley's told me about the things you've done. Your friend Granger as well. And from what he didn't tell me, I can piece together the rest," Robards said. "The necessary parts, at least."

Harry cast a worried glance Kingsley's way, but the Minister simply nodded assuredly. Harry released a breath.

"I assure you, you have my utmost respect. I do not know a single Auror who could have pulled off what you did. By every conceivable metric, you should have failed," he continued. "But I want to assure you that you do not need to accept this offer."

He raised his hand, stopping them as they moved to object.

"I do not doubt your ability. I do not attribute it all to luck," he assured them. "But from the moment you were born the Ministry has failed you. There should be no single wizard more powerful than a government designed to protect its people. We failed you."

"But those of us here now," Kingsley stepped forward, "are not taking this lightly. The last thing we want you to feel is responsible for those of us who should have been responsible for you."

"Blimey, that's not what I was expecting you to say," Ron stammered.

"I imagine not." Robards shot Kingsley a knowing look and Kingsley just smiled wryly. Harry remembered Mr. Weasley's words again. It was obvious that Kingsley and Robards had worked together for some time. He was reminded, momentarily, of the way he and Ron would have their own silent conversations.

"I don't want to speak for Ron," Harry said, casting Ron a small smile. "But I think that's why I want to do it."

"Yeah, I guess we appreciate the apology," Ron said with a smirk and a shrug. "But it's not like we can go back to being kids."

"No, I suppose you can't," Robards nodded in agreement, and gestured to Kingsley. "Rebuilding the Auror Department is a critical component for the reconstruction of the Ministry. There are still several high-profile Death Eaters and supporters of Voldemort at large. My number one priority is bringing them in to stand trial." He gave them a pointed look. "I understand you have more history with them than most. Will this be a problem?"

Harry gave Ron a hard look, but found his friend's eyes unfocused. The faces of Fred, Remus, Tonks, Colin, Sirius, and Moody flashed across Harry's memory. Could he face their killers and keep his anger in check? Could Ron?

"No. They deserve to pay for what they've done," Harry said, speaking without realizing it. "But…I'm not a killer. I don't…" He shook his head.

Robards nodded; he seemed content with the answer. He turned to Ron. "You seem less certain." Ron stammered for a moment, but Robards raised a hand placatingly. "It's not a bad thing to be uncertain of your answer. Just be sure to be certain of the answer before you give it."

"Lot of things going on right now," Ron murmured.

Kingsley inclined his head. "I've heard as much. Australia, was it?"

Ron nodded. "Hermione and Dad are at the Department of Magical Transportation now arranging a portkey."

"Excellent. If you encounter any difficulties while you're traveling please don't hesitate to contact me here," Kingsley said, patting Ron on the shoulder. "I was hoping to stop by the Burrow again, but I fear my schedule will not allow it quite yet."

Harry nodded, offering a sympathetic grimace.

Kingsley smiled faintly, though the solemnity in his eyes didn't waver. "The Ministry is planning a memorial to mark one month since the end of the war. It'll take place in the Atrium on the second of June."

Ron shifted. "A memorial? Like…a ceremony?"

"Yes," Kingsley said, his voice steady. "It'll be a time for reflection and remembrance. A chance for the wizarding world to come together, honor those we lost, and acknowledge the sacrifices made to defeat Voldemort."

Harry's chest tightened at the mention of sacrifices. His thoughts immediately went to Fred, Tonks, Remus, and so many others who'd given their lives for the cause. He glanced at Ron, whose jaw had tightened slightly but whose expression remained unreadable.

Kingsley continued, his gaze now fixed on Harry. "You and your friends—Hermione included—played a pivotal role in the events leading to Voldemort's defeat. You've inspired countless witches and wizards, Harry—myself included. And Ron, your family is a symbol of resilience and unity in the darkest of times. The Weasleys, too, are at the heart of this."

Ron rubbed the back of his neck, his ears turning pink. "So, er… what are you asking us to do?"

"I'd like you to attend as honored guests," Kingsley explained. "Your presence will mean a great deal to the people. It's not about the Ministry or speeches—though if you feel moved to say a few words, we'd welcome it. It's about showing the strength of our community and giving people hope as we rebuild."

Harry let the weight of the invitation settle on him. "I'll be there," he said after a moment, his voice firm. "It's the least I can do."

Ron nodded slowly, though he still looked a bit uncomfortable. "Yeah, alright. Don't expect me to make a speech or anything, though."

Kingsley chuckled softly, the sound warm and reassuring. "Understood, Ron. Your presence alone will be enough."

There was a pause, and Harry found himself looking at the papers on Kingsley's desk—lists of names, reports, and letters, all remnants of a war that had ended but whose scars were still fresh. He cleared his throat. "Kingsley, this memorial…it'll mean a lot to everyone. Thank you for organizing it."

Kingsley's smile deepened, and he inclined his head. "It's the least I can do for those who gave everything. And for those still here to carry us forward." He stood, signaling the end of the meeting. "I'll have the details sent to you soon. Thank you, Harry. Ron. For everything." He turned to Robards. "Gawain?"

"Of course," Robards said. He shook their hands with a tight-lipped smile. "I do hope to see you both when training begins in August."

The sun beat down on the cobbled streets of Diagon Alley, uncharacteristically warm for a mid-May afternoon. Ginny squinted against the glare and brushed an errant strand of hair from her face. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other as she stood beside her mother and Bill, her hands tucked into the pockets of her jeans.

Gringotts loomed ahead, pristine white marble gleaming blindingly in the sunlight. She'd have never guessed that Harry, Ron, and Hermione had smashed through the roof of the bank on dragonback just two weeks before. Her mum's knitting needles clicked steadily beside her. The rhythmic sound was soothing initially, but after nearly an hour it was becoming a little maddening.

Mum had claimed she needed something to do with her hands while they waited, but Ginny suspected it was more to keep herself from storming into the bank to ensure everything was going smoothly. Bill stood with his arms crossed, he looked calm but his eyes flitted back and forth, tracking every movement near the guarded entrance.

"How much longer do you think they'll be?" Mum asked for the third time, her voice tight with worry.

Bill gave her a reassuring smile, though Ginny could see the flicker of tension in his jaw. "Dad and Harry know what they're doing, Mum. They'll handle it."

"I still don't understand why you didn't go in with them," Mum said, giving Bill a pointed look. "You know Gringotts and goblins better than any of us."

Bill shifted uncomfortably. "Yes, well…I've already damaged a good bit of my standing with the goblins after everything that happened with the break-in. If I'd gone in there with Harry and Dad…" he rubbed the back of his neck. "I didn't want to risk my position—or make things harder for Harry and Dad."

Ginny nodded absently, but her gaze remained fixed on the entrance. She wasn't worried about Harry's ability to smooth things over with the goblins but that didn't make the wait any easier. Her mind drifted to Ron, Hermione, and Percy, who were somewhere in the Alley gathering supplies for Ron and Hermione's trip to find her parents.

George and Charlie had left earlier to check on the shop with Lee Jordan. Ginny had seen the tight set of his shoulders as he departed, and she hoped Lee's steady presence would help. It felt strange, everyone splitting off in different directions after so long sticking together.

Her eyes snapped back to Gringotts as the heavy doors creaked open. Two figures emerged—her Dad, looking characteristically calm despite the circumstances, and Harry, his head bent slightly as he spoke to Dad. He caught her eye and smiled. Ginny felt her heart jump at the sight of him.

"Here they come," she said, nudging her mother lightly. Molly's knitting stilled, and she tucked the needles and yarn into her bag as the three of them stepped forward to meet them.

"How'd it go?" Bill asked, his tone casual but carrying a note of worry.

"Smooth as it could have," Dad replied with a smile. "Harry was brilliant." He thumped Harry hard on the back. "Humble of course, offering apologies. I don't think the goblins expected that."

"How'd you get it all sorted?" Molly asked.

"Well Kingsley did most of the work beforehand," Dad explained. "But we did point out that quarreling with the man who defeated Voldemort and became the darling of the wizarding world would not be good for business." He gave a look around. "Everyone else go their own ways?"

Ginny nodded. "Told Ron and Hermione that we'd meet them at Madam Malkin's to pick up some new things," she said.

"Wonderful. Shall we?" Dad offered Mum his arm and they walked off together. "Come along now."

Bill made a sweeping "after you" gesture. Harry shot her a grin and offered his arm as well. She leaned into him and they followed her parents down towards the rest of the shops. Diagon Alley had always felt alive, more so than most anywhere else outside of family dinner nights at the Burrow. Now, just two weeks after the Battle of Hogwarts, it was quieter—subdued, but not lifeless.

Scorch marks marred the walls of some of the shops and newly-repaired windows glinted in the sunlight, though a few industrious shopkeepers had already begun repairing their storefronts. Here and there, magical construction crews hovered on broomsticks, their wands tracing arcs of light that mended broken bricks or reinforced teetering signs. Ginny noticed the once-vivid paint of Flourish and Blotts had dulled, its sign hanging crookedly, though the faint buzz of activity inside suggested the bookstore would soon reopen.

But what caught Ginny's attention most wasn't the sights or smells—it was the people. Heads turned as they passed, and more than a few whispered conversations sparked to life, punctuated by wide eyes and quick glances.

"That's him, isn't it? Harry Potter."

"It is! The Chosen One, right here in Diagon Alley!"

"But who's that with him? Do you think it's—?"

"Not Hermione Granger, is it? No, she's taller…"

Ginny felt Harry stiffen slightly beside her, though he kept his gaze fixed ahead, his arm steady beneath hers. She squeezed it gently, offering silent reassurance. Some of the onlookers smiled tentatively; others simply stared in awe. A few even tipped their hats or nodded respectfully, their whispers carrying a mix of gratitude and curiosity.

"How'd the meeting with Robards go?" Ginny asked as they walked along, hoping to distract him.

"Really well," Harry said. There was a note of excitement in his voice that seemed to reflect itself in the spark of his green eyes. "Your dad was right. Kingsley really trusts him. And I think…I think it's exactly what I want to be doing."

Ginny chewed her bottom lip, torn between excitement for him and disappointment that she would be at Hogwarts without him for an entire year. She stuffed that feeling down and tried to instead focus on his happiness.

"Did you get a look at the Auror uniform?" she asked, her tongue between her teeth. He shot her that wonderful lopsided grin and his green eyes sparkled as he bumped her with his hip.

Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes loomed ahead, its windows dark for now, the bright orange facade standing as both a reminder of loss and a promise of resilience. Ginny's chest tightened at the sight, but she pushed past the feeling, focusing on the present.

Beyond the feel of Harry's arm around hers, it was the people in the alley that drew her attention most. Witches and wizards moved with quiet determination, a mix of relief and sorrow on their faces. A mother held her son's hand tightly as they passed Ollivanders, its sign newly repainted. A group of Hogwarts-age children were gathered outside Fortescue's, laughing softly as though testing the bounds of joy in a world still healing.

"We'll meet you at the Leaky!" Harry called out. Before her parents could object, he took her by the hand and led her past Madam Malkin's.

"Where are we—"

"We need to get you a broom," Harry said, dragging her towards Quality Quidditch Supplies. "And you need new gear."

"You can't just buy me a broom," Ginny objected.

"I can," Harry said, hefting a money pouch that clinked and jingled. "I'm the 'Master of the Ancient and Noble House of Black' again," he said imperiously, his nose turned up playfully. "And—apparently—now that I'm of age I have access to that and all of the full Potter vault."

"I understand the mechanics, Harry," Ginny wheeled around and stopped him in his tracks with her hand on his chest. "I'm saying you shouldn't."

"You're my girlfriend and I—" Harry cut himself off, looking both startled and suddenly wary of the people around him.

Say it, Ginny urged silently, hoping he'd hear her thoughts. But she knew better. Harry wasn't one for big, public declarations—outside of defeating dark wizards.

"I…I'm invested in your future," he finished lamely. Ginny felt strangely defeated, and Harry seemed to sense it. "I'm not going to go crazy with it." He gripped her shoulders assuringly. "But you need a good broom. You want to play professionally. And we've been together…how long?"

"That's a complicated question," Ginny muttered.

"Well, in all our time together, I haven't gotten you a single gift."

"Harry, a broom is—" she began, but he cut her off.

"If it makes you feel any better, I'm getting one for myself, too," he added quickly, his earnest tone softening the sharpness of her protest.

Ginny pressed her lips together, her mind racing. Of course, she wanted a new broom—her old one had been battered and barely serviceable even before the war. Hell, the school brooms were in better shape. But the thought of Harry buying her one, of him paying for all her Quidditch gear, made something twist uncomfortably in her chest. It wasn't about pride, exactly. Or maybe it was, in part. But it was more than that.

"Mum and Dad will flip," she said instead, trying to deflect.

"Your dad said I could," Harry replied with a confidence that should have been irritating but wasn't.

"He said you could help with the essentials," she countered, crossing her arms.

"What's more essential than a good Quidditch broom?" Harry grinned, his green eyes sparkling in that way that always made her stomach flip.

"I—" Ginny stammered. He had a fantastic point, and she hated it. But that uncomfortable knot in her chest tightened. Why was she fighting him so adamantly? She loved Harry—in a way that just putting those three words together in her head made her heart flutter—and she trusted him—but this felt…uneven.

Was it because he didn't just want to buy her a broom? He could. Just like that. A few galleons—a few hundred galleons—from his vault wouldn't even make a dent in what he had, while she couldn't dream of buying something like that for herself. She wasn't used to this imbalance, to the idea that he could give her things she couldn't hope to match. It wasn't Harry's fault—it wasn't like he flaunted his wealth—but it still unsettled her. She'd always valued her independence, always fought to hold her own in a family of seven children, where hand-me-downs were the norm—and more than that, perfectly acceptable. Letting Harry buy her something as personal and significant as a broom felt…strange.

There was the unspoken fear that if she let him do this, if she leaned on him too much, she might start to lose herself in the process. Would people look at her and think she'd only made it as far as she had because of Harry?

"Why are you hesitating?" Harry asked gently, his brow furrowing.

Ginny blinked, realizing she'd been quiet too long. She bit her lip, unsure how to put all those tangled feelings into words. Instead, she forced a small smile. "Because you're impossible to argue with."

Harry chuckled, clearly relieved, and he led the way into Quality Quidditch Supplies. But Ginny's heart still felt heavy, and she knew this wasn't just about a broom.

"I'm getting one for myself, too," he said again, browsing through a display of gloves.

"Oh, so now my gift isn't special?" Ginny teased with a mocking frown. She began looking through a row of protective pads.

"For someone who says I'm impossible to argue with you sure do seem to love trying," Harry teased back.

She forced a wry smile. It wasn't teasing him that she loved.

"Try these on," Harry tossed her a pair of gloves from two displays over.

Ginny caught the gloves mid-air, her reflexes sharp as ever, and turned them over in her hands. There was a faint shimmer that immediately caught her eye, its silvery-grey surface glinting softly. The material felt soft but strong beneath her fingertips, molding slightly as though it already knew her touch. She raised an eyebrow, impressed despite herself, and a slow grin spread across her face as she slipped one onto her hand.

"Mooncalf leather. They're supposed to be really good for Seekers and Chasers," Harry explained. He had another larger pair on his hands. "I'd always wanted a pair."

"Maybe for Seekers," Ginny said, removing her hand from the glove and bringing it back over. "But Mooncalf leather is too fragile for Chasers, too much handling of the Quaffle. And then they require too much continued treatment."

"Huh," Harry muttered thoughtfully. "I hadn't thought of that."

Ginny grabbed a pair of regular leather gloves and a set of protective pads; the same kind that she and ninety-nine percent of the school—Harry included—had worn in every match before, and handed them to Harry. If he was insisting on buying her things, he'd have to carry them, too.

"I'm not going to pull a Malfoy and show up with all the fancy bells and whistles," Ginny said firmly, sensing his objection. "This is school Quidditch. I'm going to treat it seriously. Not as a chance to play dress-up."

He stammered momentarily, "Ginny, I didn't mean to—"

"I know you didn't," she cut him off, stunned by the hurt and worry in his eyes. Still so cautious. "And I'm not saying you were. I just wanted to make sure we were both on the same page." She chewed her lip, thoughtfully. "Because I think we are." She held his gaze and tried to get him to hear what she was really saying.

"Oh, right." He nodded, still half-stunned. He glanced around at the display of broomsticks. "Let's get some brooms, yeah?"

Ginny smiled a tight-lipped smile and nodded as well. She joined him at the display. "If you're thinking—"

"I'm not buying you a Firebolt," he said, glancing over the various models. "I don't even see one in here."

"Probably hid them away with all the shit going on this past year," Ginny muttered. She lingered on the Cleensweep Eleven model. Her parents had bought one for Ron when he was made prefect. She'd been insanely jealous at the time. "There's probably a vault in Gringotts somewhere with Firebolts stacked floor-to-ceiling." Harry snorted. "What are you thinking of getting?"

"The Nimbus 2001 is probably the best broom here right now, but even the 2000 is more broom than I really need if I'm just playing at the Burrow," Harry muttered thoughtfully. There was a look of distaste on his face. "And…"

"Wouldn't want to fly anything Malfoy felt was good," Ginny finished, chuckling at his look of surprise. "I know you, Potter."

"Yeah," Harry muttered, staring at her thoughtfully. "You do."

Ginny grinned. "I bet there's an intramural league at the Ministry."

His eyes lit up. He nodded his head and turned back to the broomstick display, his eyes landing on the Nimbus 2000. "Played my first game of Quidditch on that." His brows drew together. "Caught that first Snitch."

The Snitch. The one Professor Dumbledore had hidden the Resurrection Stone in so that when the time came, Harry wouldn't be alone. Ginny had some complicated feelings for her old Headmaster—both of them, now that she thought of it—but the importance of that Snitch and that first game couldn't be overstated.

She heard the words in her head before Harry even said them aloud. She knew him that well.

"I'll need a Nimbus 2000," he said, calling the sales wizard over. Lumos seemed to light in his eyes, and he held up two fingers. "Two of them, actually."

The sales wizard raised an eyebrow.

"Harry!" Ginny protested. That broom was a lot more expensive than she was planning to let him spend on her. "I don't—"

"Harry Potter," the sales wizard gasped in a whisper, and stared at Harry like he was seeing him for the first time. "Sir, of course, I'm sorry, I—"

Harry interrupted the sales wizard. "I'm not letting you talk your way out of this, Gin," he said with a lopsided grin and a flash of mischief in his green eyes. "You said you were a better Seeker than me. So we're going to see if you can put your money where your mouth is."

Ginny opened her mouth to object, but the gauntlet had been thrown down. If she objected—really put her foot down and told him 'no' he'd have ammunition to tease her with for years. And he'd challenged her ability. Merlin, he knew her well, too.

Ginny huffed. "Fine. But you have to justify it to Mum and Dad when they inevitably corner me and ask me how I could possibly let you buy me a Nimbus 2000." She threw her hands up, caught somewhere between frustration and fondness.

The sales wizard managed to get over his shock and check them out. They'd grabbed a set of gloves and a broomstick servicing kit for each of them along with a set of practice balls. Despite the sales wizard's insistence otherwise, Harry paid full price, and exchanged a larger stack of galleons than Ginny had ever seen in a single transaction.

The wizard gave a flick of his wand, and a long, protective sheath made of shimmering, enchanted fabric materialized in mid-air. It floated gently over each of the broomsticks, snugly wrapping itself around the polished handle and bristle tail. The fabric shimmered faintly, enchanted to ward off scratches, dirt, and water. With another precise wave, the broomstick hovered momentarily before tucking itself into a sleek carrying case. The clerk handed the case to Harry with a smile.

"Potter up by one," Harry teased, grabbing their things and leading the way out of the store.

"No!" Ginny shouted. "Up? No way. I knew the thing with the gloves."

Harry shook his head. "That was small stuff. Not point-worthy."

"Not point-worthy?" she shrieked in mock outrage.

"I don't make the rules," Harry pointed out. Ginny sputtered. "Potter up by one."

"No. Definitely not," Ginny said. "'Potter up'? No way. What about the thing from the other night?" She flashed a mischievous grin.

"What thing—oh," Harry's mouth hung open and his cheeks colored. "Damn. Then…Weasley up by one." Ginny laughed and pumped her fist. But Harry seemed to jump. "Wait, no. What about the night before that?"

Ginny frowned playfully. "I was hoping you'd forget."

"I'm never going to forget that, Gin," Harry said, staring at her pointedly. "I've filed that one away for safekeeping." Ginny felt her face heating up. She must have been burning red because Harry's stare became a triumphant grin. "Potter up by one again."

"Tie game," Ginny said measuredly, trying to control her blush. Harry looked like he was going to object, but Ginny fixed him with a harder look. "Tie. Game."

Harry gave her a wry grin and an appraising look. He nodded. "Tie Game. We'll settle this on the Quidditch pitch, Weasley."

"You're on, Potter," she grinned back.

They headed back towards the Leaky Cauldron, rather than Malkin's, figuring it would be less cramped than the small shop while they waited for the rest. Harry slowed, staring at Janus Galloglass magical mirror shop. A thoughtful look crossed his face for a moment, but he shook it off with a frown and allowed Ginny to lead him into the pub.

The Leaky Cauldron was quieter than usual, the low murmur of hushed conversations filling the air in place of its typical bustling atmosphere. As they entered, the patrons' eyes flicked to them, and the room seemed to hold its breath for a moment. The reverence in their gazes was unmistakable—faint nods and whispers laced with awe and celebrity worship. Ginny could feel it too: the weight of being in the shadow of the one who had defeated Voldemort, whose name was on the tip of every tongue.

Harry, ever modest, didn't seem to revel in the stares. His face set in a tight, uncomfortable smile and he offered a small, awkward wave. Ginny smiled slightly, stepping closer to him to offer some silent comfort as they made their way through the room. They found a corner near the fireplace and settled into a small, round table, waiting for the rest of the Weasleys to arrive. As they sat, a voice broke through the quiet hum of the inn.

"Ginny! Harry!" Demelza Robins called, her voice warm and friendly. Demelza was one of their Quidditch teammates and Ginny's closest friend at school. They'd become a force on the Quidditch pitch, so in-sync it was almost scary. Ginny didn't know if any three Chasers at Hogwarts could be favorably compared to the synergy of the Angelina-Alicia-Katie trio, but Katie herself had said she wouldn't want to play Ginny and Demelza in two-a-side Quidditch regardless of who she was partnered with.

It had been far too long since Ginny had seen her in a setting that wasn't shadowed by grief or loss. Funerals didn't exactly lend themselves to catching up, and their brief conversations had been reduced to murmured apologies and hollow reassurances. Seeing Demelza now, looking relaxed and decidedly more at ease in dark jeans and a purple Pride of Portree t-shirt, was a breath of fresh air.

A tall boy trailed behind Demelza, mirroring her nimble movements through the crowd. He had long, sandy-blonde hair and pale eyes, and though Ginny didn't recognize him immediately, there was something familiar about his face.

Demelza greeted Ginny with a tight, one-armed hug, expertly managing not to spill the butterbeers. She did the same to Harry, who started at the sudden embrace before patting her back awkwardly. Ginny rolled her eyes.

"I'm so glad I ran into you two!" she exclaimed. She gestured to the boy beside her. "Do you mind if we join you? Here," she shoved the butterbeers in front of Harry and Ginny then shouted to Tom the barman for two more.

"Of course," Ginny scooted closer to Harry to make room for the two.

"You remember—"

"Maddox Brightley," Ginny blurted out, recognition dawning. "You're—giant!" She hadn't seen him in over two years, since the end of her fourth year, and he must have grown almost a foot in that time.

Maddox flushed and grinned. "Yeah, I suppose," he said. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, but Ginny thought she saw him trying to flex his biceps as he did. "Late growth spurt, I guess."

"You were gone the last two years," Ginny said. She raised her glass to Demelza in a toast and took a sip of her butterbeer.

"Yeah," Maddox said, his grin fading. "After everyone saw You-Know-Who come back, my parents sent me to stay with family in America. And they kept me there after Professor Dumbledore was killed. I did my fifth and sixth years at Ilvermorny."

"You can do that?" Harry asked.

Maddox shifted uncomfortably, and he seemed to withdraw into himself. "Not usually," he admitted, staring down into his butterbeer. "It was a…unique few years. Exceptions were made. Anyway, the term there ended last week, so I just got back. And I—" He shook his head and gave Ginny a hard look. "I'm not exactly proud that I let my parents send me off, but I was only fourteen and they weren't hearing arguments."

Ginny nodded, understanding all too well how overprotective parents could be.

Maddox shifted uncomfortably. "I'm sorry about your brother," he said quietly. "George, right?"

"Fred," Ginny corrected sharply.

"Right. Sorry." Maddox frowned, looking away, and an uncomfortable silence settled over the group. Harry gave Ginny's hand a reassuring squeeze under the table, and she shot Demelza a pleading look.

"So! Broomstick shopping?" Demelza offered in a very transparent—but appreciated—attempt to change the subject. She gestured to the packaged broomsticks set against the wall behind them. "What'd you get?"

Harry opened his mouth to speak but Ginny cut him off. "You'll see on the pitch—or if you stop by the Burrow for practice," Ginny replied, recovering quickly.

"Really?" Demelza asked, her eyes lighting up. "Open invitation?"

"Anytime," Ginny confirmed with a grin. "We can run some drills."

"Yes!" Demelza said, clapping her hands together. "Are you both coming back next year?"

"I am," Ginny said quickly, surprising herself by how natural the answer felt. "Harry is…" she trailed off and looked at him, nodding expectantly.

"I'm starting Auror training," Harry said, his voice steady. Demelza whistled appreciatively and Ginny gave his hand a proud squeeze.

"Bloody hell," Maddox muttered, though he didn't sound as impressed as Ginny would have liked.

"He actually met with Kingsley and Gawain Robards this morning," Ginny said, nudging Harry with her shoulder.

"Shacklebolt?" Maddox said. He glanced back and forth between them. "You're on a first name basis with the Minister?" Ginny grinned up at Harry. "Pays to be Harry Potter, I suppose."

"Kingley's been friends with my family for a while," Ginny pointed out. She could feel the heat creeping up her neck. Maddox hadn't been this…snotty before, had he? Though, to be fair, she hadn't spent all that much time with him. "We all got to know each other really well fighting Voldemort."

She did her best not to feel victorious as Maddox flinched at the name.

"Sorry, I didn't mean it the way it sounded," Maddox tried to assure them.

"Well if Harry's not coming back next year that means you're a shoe-in for Captain!" Demelza exclaimed abruptly, changing the subject once again. Ginny smiled at her thankfully. "We're going to win it all this year."

"We need to find a new Seeker, new Chaser, and probably a new Keeper, too," Ginny said, counting off the positions on her fingers.

"I played Chaser for Pukwudgie," Maddox offered eagerly, eyes lighting up. "We won the Ilvermorny Quidditch Cup last year. I'm pretty good."

"We'll have to see at tryouts," Ginny said, hiding a grimace while taking another drink. Maddox was a bit off-putting, but he didn't deserve the full Ginny wrath. "Dee and I are picky."

"I could swing by sometime with Demelza," Maddox offered. "We could run some drills. Really get used to working together." He leaned over excitedly. "I'm a really flexible player. I think you'll both be surprised."

"Well…" Ginny was at a loss for words. She'd wanted time with Demelza. "The eh…wards around the property are pretty complex. Dad and Bill put them up. They're complicated to change." She stumbled into her answer. "Only family and a few others—you know, Harry, Hermione, Kingsley—can get through right now."

"Oh, Harry, are you there often?" Maddox asked, his voice politely formal.

"I've been staying with Ginny's family since the battle," Harry nodded. Ginny noted Maddox's split-second look of bewilderment. "Hermione, too."

"Though she and Ron are going to Australia to get her parents sometime before the start of term," Ginny said, glancing past their table to scan the crowd for her family. None had arrived yet.

"Are you going?" Demelza asked, turning to Harry, who shook his head.

Maddox hummed thoughtfully. "Wow…that must be a first for you three."

Demelza turned to Ginny. "Are they together? I saw them together at…well…but I figured that might be just a comfort thing."

"They're together," Harry confirmed with a nod and a fond smile. "Happened during the battle."

"Let me guess," Demelza began, dropping her voice into a comically deep octave. "Ron said, 'Hermione, we might not make it out of this alive. I bloody fancy you. Kiss me!'"

"Hermione kissed him," Harry said, smirking

"No. Really?" Demelza goggled. "Go, Hermione." She paused, looking thoughtful. "Have you walked in on them starkers yet?"

"Not fully," Harry mumbled under his breath. Ginny whipped around to face him, her eyes wide. He hadn't mentioned that before.

"Oh, do tell!" Demelza leaned in, clearly relishing the gossip. It had been a long year, after all, and most of their "gossip" had revolved around tragedy.

Ginny watched Maddox shift awkwardly, clearly uncomfortable with being out of the general loop.

"I am taking that with me to the grave," Harry said grimly.

"Spoilsport," Demelza muttered teasingly. Harry just shrugged, but Ginny was glad to see him relaxing a bit more around her friend. "So they're going to be alone, just the two of them, on the other side of the world…for how long?"

Harry shrugged and shook his head.

"Wow," Demelza said. She fixed Ginny and Harry with a playful look. "Jealous?"

"Yeah," Ginny said without thinking.

"It's complicated," Harry said at the same time. His gaze darted to hers and his brow furrowed curiously. Ginny couldn't stop the blush that crept across her cheeks. He grinned, his eyes glinting. "But yeah. A little jealous, too."

"I'm sure you two industrious kids will manage just fine," Demelza teased knowingly. "Still, I don't think anyone has seen one of you without the other two for more than…a few hours?"

"Last time I was without either of them for more than that was…" Harry thought for a moment. "Last summer. Before I left my aunt and uncle's."

"Being apart must feel like missing a limb," Maddox said.

"Or your wand hand," Demelza warned, biting her lip. Ginny braced herself. "Don't worry though, I'm sure Ginny can lend you one of hers if you ask nicely."

Harry sputtered, coughing as he choked on his butterbeer. Ginny only nearly choked on her drink. Her eyes darted to Demelza, whose smirk was all mischief. "Demelza!" she gasped, though she couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up in spite of herself.

"What?" Demelza said innocently, though the mischievous glint in her eyes betrayed her. "You've got the Chosen One under your roof, sharing meals, lounging around together, going for long sunset strolls. Sounds terribly romantic."

Ginny shot her a look, her cheeks flushing an even deeper shade of red. Harry, for his part, looked caught between amusement and a desire for the floor to swallow him whole. He was still new to the teasing from her friends.

"I have two parents and three older brothers still around the house," Ginny countered.

"Yeah, but for the rest of the summer?" Demelza asked. Ginny had to admit, she hadn't considered her brothers' plans yet. "Besides, everyone knows how…what's the word, Maddox?" she turned to the boy, who looked like an owl caught in wandlight. "Inventive, right? You're both inventive when it comes to trouble."

Ginny fixed Demelza with a tight-lipped warning smile and glanced quickly back and forth from her to Harry, hoping her friend would get the message.

"Fine. I won't ask for details until we're back at the dorms."

Harry shot Ginny a bewildered look. She shrugged helplessly. "I won't say a word about the new tattoo." He looked befuddled for a moment, but then a grin cut itself across his face and he busied himself with his butterbeer again.

"So, you're really not going back next year?" Maddox said suddenly, his eyes on Harry. "You're really going to be an Auror instead?"

"Yeah," Harry answered, nodding, his tone steady but thoughtful. "Can't exactly stay in Hogwarts forever, can I? Especially if this was what I was going to try working towards anyway."

Maddox's eyes flicked between Harry and Ginny, his expression unreadable but tinged with something like skepticism.

"Right, right. Well, that's great for you, Harry," Maddox said, his voice smoothing over the slight awkwardness. "But...you won't be around next year then, will you? I mean, I guess that'll be hard, yeah? With Ginny staying at Hogwarts…" He trailed off, his words not quite as polite as they had been.

"I think we'll manage," Ginny replied coolly, fixing Maddox with a look that left no room for doubt. "Like Dee said, we're inventive. There's owls, Hogsmeade weekends. We were apart all of last year while Harry was off…" she paused, glancing at Harry. They hadn't yet talked about how to explain what he'd been doing.

"Figuring out how to stop him," Harry supplied carefully.

Ginny nodded. "Don't worry about us."

"Right. Sorry. I didn't mean it like that," Maddox muttered, though it was hard to ignore the way his enthusiasm dimmed a little.

"I'm also hoping to make it up for as many of the Gryffindor Quidditch games as I can," Harry said. Ginny perked up; he hadn't mentioned that before. "So you two better bring it."

"Aye aye, Captain Potter, Sir!" Demelza saluted. Harry chuckled, but Ginny just gave Demelza a look of mock betrayal. "Sorry, Ginny, he's still Captain until you get the badge."

Harry gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Sorry, Gin." He turned to Demelza and Maddox. "Enough about us, though. What were you two up to before we walked it?"

"Oh, Maddox actually asked to meet up to talk Quidditch tryouts," Demelza said. She turned to Maddox expectantly. "Well, you've got the former—and soon-to-be—Captains right here. Ask away."

"Oh, uh," Maddox stammered, clearly caught off guard. "I guess…what's the most important thing you look for at tryouts?"

"Attitude," Ginny answered.

"If you're actually in Gryffindor," Harry deadpanned.

"I forgot about that," Ginny mused with mock thoughtfulness. "That is important. But since we know Maddox is in Gryffindor…" She caught the playful curl of Harry's lips and cut him off before he could continue. "And we know he knows how to play because he played last year."

Harry snapped his jaw shut, but his grin didn't fade. He nodded. "Attitude is definitely important: don't be Cormac McLaggen," he added with a pointed look. To his credit, Maddox visibly grimaced. "Also, whether you can be cohesive with the group. We had some decent Beaters try out, but Jimmy and Ritchie really stood out because they worked well together—even during tryouts."

"Great! Thanks, Harry," Maddox said, his enthusiasm sounding just a bit forced. Standing abruptly, he added, "I appreciate you guys letting me pick your brain. I'll let you catch up. Enjoy the rest of your summer, Harry. See you at school, Dee, Gin."

Ginny's expression soured slightly. "Ginny," she corrected, catching him off guard.

"Sorry?" Maddox asked, his eyes wide.

"Most people call me Ginny," she said evenly.

"Oh, I just…" He glanced nervously between her and Harry, and comprehension seemed to dawn. His neck flushed red, and at least he had the decency to look mortified. "Sorry, Ginny. See you at school."

Demelza watched him leave with a half-grimace. "Soooorry," she drawled, giving Ginny a reproachful look. "That was weird."

"I can't even tell anymore," Harry said with a shrug. He wasn't being entirely truthful—Ginny could tell—but at least he was helping Demelza feel better. "Still…if he played all last year he'll probably be in pretty good shape for tryouts. Don't write him off just because he's awkward and fancies you, Gin."

"Ugh. What?" Ginny goggled. "He doesn't."

Demelza gave her an unimpressed look.

"I know exactly what it looks like to fancy Ginny Weasley," Harry said knowingly. Across from him, Demelza nodded sagely.

Before Ginny could respond, she spotted a familiar group entering the pub, their chatter rising above the general noise. Her heart gave a little flutter as she spotted Bill leading the way, followed by Ron, Hermione, and their parents.

"There they are," Ginny said, standing up and waving energetically.

Demelza followed her gaze and immediately sprang to her feet. "Oh, I've gotta say hi to your mum before I go," Ginny tried to object but Demelza shrugged. "Mum will start to worry if I'm out too long without checking in. You know how it is." She really did. "But I'll stop by soon to run some plays."

"Bet on it," Ginny said. She smiled as she watched Demelza hurry over to the Weasley matriarch, who was smiling and already holding her arms out for a welcoming hug. Demelza shook hands with Dad then gave Ron a friendly fist-bump before leaving.

Within moments, her parents, Bill, Ron, and Hermione had made their way over to the table, joining Ginny and Harry with big smiles.

"Hey, mate," Ron muttered. He pulled a chair over for Hermione and sat down on the other side of Harry. He did a quick double-take. "New brooms!?"

"No Quidditch talk until we get some food," Mum declared. And that ended the conversation before it started.

"Hope you weren't waiting long," Dad said, eyes pausing very briefly on the brooms.

Hermione, looking a little out of sorts, took her seat. "We didn't miss anything important, did we?"

Ginny shook her head, eyes twinkling. "Nope, just a lot of gossip and awkwardness."

"Harry and awkwardness I get, but gossip?" Ron teased, elbowing Harry in the ribs.

Harry mock glared at her brother, rubbing his ribs dramatically. "Apparently I'm a natural," he deadpanned.

Bill snorted.

"Did you get everything you need?" Ginny asked.

"I think so," Hermione said quickly. Her eyes darted around the room, clearly not quite comfortable with being around so many unfamiliar people after their time on the run, nor being the center of so much attention…or maybe just stressed from the day. "But I'm certain we're forgetting something."

"Come now, we've gone over your list five times already," Mum said placatingly. She patted Hermione on the arm.

"Besides, you'll be able to get anything unexpected you might need while you're there," Dad added.

"When do you leave?" Harry asked. Ginny caught the note of trepidation in his voice.

Hermione hesitated, so Ron supplied, "June first." He took one of Hermione's hands. "Thought about trying to get a portkey sooner—or later, because of," he gave Harry a pointed look and grimaced.

Harry nodded. Ginny resolved to ask him about it when they had a moment alone.

"But it took a bit of work to get this one approved by the Australian Ministry," Ron continued, barreling ahead.

"That's soon," Harry said.

Ron nodded. "Yeah. You'll be alright?" Ginny's heart softened. Despite being a prat, her brother was a great friend.

Harry shot Ginny a knowing look. She could see him bite the inside of his lip to keep from laughing, but he couldn't stop the grin from forming on his face.

She found an identical one forming on her own.

"I'll figure it out," Harry said.

They returned to the Burrow after their outing laden with broomsticks, Quidditch gear, and essentials for Ron and Hermione's trip to Australia. Everyone was tired that evening. Bill sat at the table with his shoulders slumped, one hand absently rubbing the scarred side of his face while Fleur, uncharacteristically quiet, toyed with her fork, her usual sharp wit absent as she picked at her plate. Charlie yawned more than once, his eyes heavy-lidded from his long journey and the emotional toll of the day. Percy had tried to engage Mr. Weasley in a discussion about the latest Ministry legislation they'd overheard, but his words lacked their usual crispness, and halfway through a sentence, he gave up, sighing and pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

Ron leaned back in his chair, his eyes half-closed as he idly drummed his fingers against the table, his appetite finally sated. Hermione sat next to him, her head propped on her hand, the conversation swirling around her barely drawing her attention as she stared blankly into the middle distance. Mrs. Weasley tried valiantly to keep the mood light, but her voice was softer than usual, and her laughter when it came was tinged with weariness. Even Mr. Weasley, typically so animated at the dinner table, seemed content to simply sit and listen, his hand resting reassuringly over his wife's.

When the meal was finally finished, no one lingered long. Plates were cleared with half-hearted murmurs of thanks, and the family dispersed throughout the house, seeking solace in quiet corners or the comfort of their rooms. Harry and Ginny stayed behind to help Mrs. Weasley tidy up, but even their small talk fell away into a comfortable silence.

Once the cleanup was done, Harry and Ginny wandered outside toward the pond. The lingering spring evening stretched the day longer, casting the sky in swirls of purple and orange. Harry found himself watching Ginny more than the sunset—caught by the way her hair shimmered in the fading light, the way her eyes narrowed against the glow of the sun, and the way her freckles bunched together when she laughed.

They sat on the weathered wooden dock by the pond, the boards creaking faintly beneath them. Ginny was beside him, her feet skimming the water as the orange and purples of the sunset faded across the sky. The quiet hum of frogs and crickets filled the air, punctuated by the soft ripple of the pond whenever she moved her toes.

For the first time in what felt like ages, Harry felt like both of his feet were firmly beneath him.

And it was because of her.

"Today was good," he said, breaking the silence as they sat on the little pond dock. He turned to face her and met her questioning gaze. "Seeing Demelza and…well Maddox was kind of a git, but everything else…" He hesitated, glancing down at the rippling water before meeting her gaze. "Hearing you talk about me, about us like that—it meant a lot, Ginny. You made it sound so easy, so sure. Like you never doubted it for a second."

"I haven't," she said simply. Her confidence made his chest tighten.

Harry exhaled deeply, letting the words tumble out before he could stop them. "No one's ever talked about me like that before," he admitted.

Ginny tilted her head, her brow furrowing. "What do you mean?"

There was a look in her eyes that told him she knew exactly what he'd meant: she just wanted to hear more.

Harry swallowed, glancing out at the water before meeting her eyes again. "Like I mattered. Not because of who I'm supposed to be or what I've done. Just because I'm me." His voice dropped to almost a whisper. "That's not something I've ever had before."

Ginny leaned toward him. "You've always mattered, Harry."

He let out a shaky laugh, running a hand through his hair. "Not like that. Sirius cared about me—I know he did—but he never really saw me. He saw James's son, this connection to the past he'd lost. And he was…he was in so much pain himself. I don't think he ever got past that. Maybe if we'd had more time…"

Ginny nodded, her lips pressing into a thin line, and Harry's heart ached at the sight of those shimmering brown eyes.

"But you," he said, his voice thick, "you see me. You don't expect me to be anything I'm not."

Ginny shifted closer, her knee brushing against his. She reached for his hand, lacing her fingers through his. "You don't need to be anything more than you already are, Harry," she said, her voice firm and unwavering.

"You make me want to be," Harry said. The lump in his throat grew, but he didn't look away this time. "I've been scared—worried about saying this for all the wrong reasons. But I need you to know."

He swallowed hard. "I love you, Gin."

Her eyes widened briefly, and she smiled—a radiant, heart-stopping smile. And then she was reaching up to cup his face, pulling him into a kiss so fierce it left him breathless. Her hands slid into his hair, her touch anchoring him as every part of him seemed to dissolve into her.

When they finally broke apart, she was smiling, her cheeks flushed. "I love you, Harry."

He froze, his heart hammering in his chest. "Really?"

Ginny let out a soft laugh, her thumb brushing against his cheek. "Head over bloody fucking heels."

Harry couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up, but it faltered when his eyes began to sting. "Say it again?" he asked, his voice cracking.

"I love you, Harry."

The words hit him like a wave, crashing through every barrier he hadn't realized he'd built. His eyes burned. He blinked rapidly, but a tear escaped anyway. Ginny pulled him into her arms, holding him tightly as he clung to her, his face buried in her shoulder.

After a moment, she drew back slightly, her fingers trailing along his jaw. Her eyes searched his face. "You know," she said, her voice teasing but fond, "when I was little, I fancied 'The Boy Who Lived' long before I met you. It was ridiculous—like falling for a fairy tale. Then I actually met you, and there you were: this very real, brave, loyal, kind, awkward twelve-year-old boy eating in my kitchen."

Harry let out a breathless laugh, shaking his head. "I wasn't that bad."

"You were, but we all know I was worse," Ginny said with a grin, but her expression softened. "But that same very real boy—flaws and all—saved me from the Basilisk, stood up for my family, fought for people who would never bother to thank him. That's when I realized something."

She cupped his face, her gaze steady and unwavering. "The people who only see you as 'Harry Potter' are missing out. Because Harry—just Harry—is so much more than 'Harry Potter' could ever be."

Harry couldn't speak, couldn't find the words to tell her what that meant to him. So instead, he kissed her, pouring everything he felt into it. Ginny met him with the same intensity, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he let himself believe that maybe, just maybe, this was his to keep.

Next Time: Chapter 10 - A Meal With a Metamorphmagus

AN: Thank you all for joining me once again! I really enjoy writing Kingsley (no disrespect to the movie's Kingsley, but I always picture him as Idris Elba in my head as I read or write the character). Gawain is another fun character to write. I picture him as a Daniel Craig-James Bond type of person in the way he speaks and carries himself. Very purposeful, very precise. Harry has spent so much time in antagonistic relationships to those in power within the Ministry that I just don't think he knows how to process an ally of that kind.

Demelza and Maddox will be making more appearances through the rest of the school year.

I've been trying to sprinkle in hits of the problems/conflicts Harry and Ginny will be facing over the coming year once work/school begins. See if you've spotted the primary and secondary ones. I hope some of it will still keep you on your toes!