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Grave Days | ||||||
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Category: Post-Hogwarts, Post-DH/AB Characters:All Genres: Action/Adventure, Drama Warnings: Death, Mild Language, Mild Sexual Situations Story is Complete Rating: PG Reviews: 153 Summary: Front page: THE DAILY PROPHET 4 May 1998 WHERE IS HARRY POTTER? Despite the Official Ministry Statement (published above) we are no closer to receiving an answer to the question on the lips of every witch and wizard in the country. Where is Harry Potter? It appears that Mr Potter left Hogwarts School early yesterday morning, apparently in the company of his close associates Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley. An attractive young Ministry clerk, who did not wish to be named, told The Prophet “He’s at the Ministry, having an important meeting with the Minister. My friends and I saw him. He asked us out to the pub, but we had to turn him down.” This statement is at odds with a leaked report from the Portkey Office, which claims that Mr. Potter has fled the country, travelling to Australia with his companions. When asked about rumours that Mr Potter had been seriously injured and was being treated at a secret location, Acting Minister Shacklebolt said simply, "Nonsense." Hitcount: Story Total: 115253; Chapter Total: 8925 Author's Notes: I neglected to thank Spenser for betaing chapter one for me. Apologies, Spenser. He’s done a great job on this chapter and he now has chapter three. Thanks again, Spencer, and thanks to you all for reading. |
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2: Emotions Exhumed Kingsley’s discussions with Professor McGonagall were brisk and business-like. They discussed methods of repairing the school, examinations, and possible improvements which could be incorporated into the rebuilding. ‘You do intend to reopen the school in September then, Minerva?’ he asked. ‘Yes,’ Professor McGonagall had made her decision. ‘I will need your assistance, Kingsley. There is a lot of work to do. We will need additional funding for the repairs.’ ‘I am meeting the Wizengamot tomorrow. I will do my best to ensure that you have everything you need. I’d be grateful if you could get me a provisional list of your requirements by then.’ ‘I already have it,’ Minerva McGonagall informed him. She handed him a thick roll of parchment. It was not even six in the morning when they reached the Entrance Hall. Harry stood in silence, only half listening as McGonagall and Kingsley concluded their discussion. He was looking around the hall, his mind drifting back as random events from the battle fought to be remembered. Ron had thumped Draco on those stairs. Up there was where he’d seen Professor Trelawney; and that was where he’d seen Lavender fall. At least Lavender was now safe in Madam Pomfrey’s care.’ A question from Professor McGonagall brought him back to the present, ‘Will you stay for breakfast, Harry?’ she asked. Breakfast … Harry gazed longingly into the Great Hall, but all he saw was broken windows and the memory of corpses. Kingsley looked at Harry and said, ‘I must get back to the Ministry, but if you want to say goodbye to your friends …’ ‘No, thank you; I’ll see them soon enough,’ said Harry. He had made his decision. He did not want another day of congratulations; he certainly did not want a day of mourning. He needed some time to himself; he needed time to think, he told himself as he tried to justify his decision. ‘If you want to come with me now, we can discuss the press statement,’ Kingsley said slowly. Harry looked around at the battered and broken Entrance Hall. Was he really leaving Hogwarts so soon? He’d outgrown the place, he realised sadly. After last year there was no going back. ‘Will I be allowed to decide what is said in the press statement?’ Harry asked. ‘If that’s what you want, Harry,’ said Kingsley, nodding. ‘Then, yes, I’ll come to the Ministry with you,’ confirmed Harry. ‘Phillipa,’ Kingsley addressed the plump witch, who was still guarding the Entrance Hall, ‘please inform your colleagues that Harry is leaving. He is travelling to the Ministry with me. Goodbye, Minerva.’ Kingsley and McGonagall shook hands. ‘Goodbye, Professor,’ Harry said, holding out his hand. ‘I hope that they make you Headmistress, and thank you; thank you for everything.’ Minerva McGonagall’s eyes were sparkling with tears as she shook Harry’s hand. ‘You’ll be back, Harry.’ ‘But not as a student,’ Harry told her sadly. ‘Good luck, Harry,’ she said. ‘This school won’t be the same without you.’ Harry smiled sorrowfully and gazed around the battle-scarred walls of the Entrance Hall, ‘I hope not Professor; I hope that you’ll have a much quieter time without me.’ He looked down fondly at the acting headmistress, vaguely wondering when he’d grown to be taller than her. As he walked alongside Kingsley down the drive to the main gates Harry did not look back at his school. He was lost in thought, wondering whether he was doing the right thing, and worried that, if he turned, he would return to the school which had been his home for so many years. Then he remembered a more pressing problem. ‘Is there a way to get someone to Australia, quickly, Kingsley?’ he asked, as they walked toward the gates. ‘Australia?’ Kingsley asked. ‘Why do you want to go to Australia?’ ‘I don’t, but Hermione does,’ Harry explained. ‘Her parents are in Australia, she … sent them there to try to keep them safe last year. I know she’d like to get them back as soon as possible. Can you help?’ ‘There is a way,’ Kingsley pondered. ‘I’ll need to speak to both the Portkey Office and the Department of International Magical Cooperation. When we get back to the Ministry, I will organise a Portkey series.’ As they left the school grounds Harry finally plucked up the courage to turn and look back at his old school. He stood for some time, taking in the view. Eventually, when he’d imprinted the image on his mind, he turned to face the acting Minister. ‘Ready?’ Kingsley asked. Harry nodded. ‘Kingsley,’ he said, remembering that he was now with the acting Minister, a man who was formerly an Auror, ‘I’ve been Apparating since my birthday, but I haven’t passed my test.’ Kingsley Shacklebolt chuckled. It was an infectious deep, bass noise which made Harry smile for the first time since the battle. ‘Extenuating circumstances, Harry,’ Kingsley noted. ‘But, as an Auror and acting Minister, I really shouldn’t condone any more lawbreaking. I will take you to the Ministry by Side-Along-Apparition, if you don’t mind.’ ‘Okay.’ Harry nodded and took Kingsley’s arm. The Ministry building was almost deserted when they arrived. Harry was surprised, until he remembered that it was still only a little after six o’clock on a Sunday morning. They quickly made their way up to the Minister’s Office. Apologising to Harry, Kingsley left him alone with an early edition of the Sunday Prophet while he went to speak to various Ministry officials. When he returned twenty minutes later, Kingsley joined Harry at the long table which stretched down one side of the office. ‘I’ve spoken to the Portkey Office,’ Kingsley informed him. ‘They’re dealing with your request. I’ve spoken to the Auror Office, too,’ Kingsley continued, pushing a small white card towards him. ‘This is yours, if you want it. I’ve made the arrangements with Gawain Robards.’ Harry read the card: “Harry J Potter — Trainee Auror”, and looked in surprise at the acting Minister. ‘Thanks, but; not even an interview?’ ‘Not for you,’ Kingsley shook his head, ‘nor for any of your friends, if they want to become Aurors. I was particularly impressed by the actions of your friends Mr Weasley and Miss Granger. Mr Longbottom, Miss Lovegood and Miss Weasley also excelled themselves, as did the rest of your little group. We lost over half of the Auror Department during the last year, Harry. We will need new recruits, urgently. If you want the job, it’s yours.’ ‘Thanks Kingsley,’ said Harry. ‘If I take this, does that mean I’m working for you?’ ‘You’ll be working for Gawain Robards,’ said Kingsley. ‘He’s an experienced Auror and a good man. He was a close friend of Rufus Scrimgeour.’ Harry carefully considered the card. Was this really what he wanted? He thought back to his last look at Hogwarts. Never again he told himself. He made his decision and tucked the card into his wallet. ‘Now, Harry, What shall we tell the press?’ Kingsley asked. Harry pondered the question in silence for some time. Kingsley did not press him, and Harry slowly began to unburden himself to the slow-speaking acting Minister. While standing next to Dumbledore’s tomb he had made the decision to tell Kingsley almost everything. It was important that someone knew. Harry needed advice about how much to tell, and who to tell it to. It took Harry a long time to tell his story and they suffered from frequent interruptions. Members of staff from both the Portkey Office and the Department of International Magical Cooperation were in and out of the Minister’s Office, agreeing on Portkey locations and travel arrangements. At nine o’clock, while Harry was explaining what happened at Malfoy Manor, a harassed clerk knocked on the door. ‘Sorry to interrupt, Minister,’ he apologised. ‘Security has held a Miss Granger and a Mr Weasley in the Atrium. They are demanding to see Mr Potter.’ ‘Arrange to have them escorted up immediately,’ Kingsley ordered. Harry grinned as his friends entered the Minister’s Office a few minutes later. Ron was wearing jeans, a grey t-shirt and an old tweed jacket; Hermione wore jeans and a lightweight sweater; both looked stressed and unhappy. ‘Git,’ Ron scowled by way of greeting. Hermione was no happier. ‘What the hell were you thinking of, disappearing like that!’ she shrieked. ‘We were just getting ready to organise a search party when Ginny checked with the Aurors. We were worried sick!’ Harry was astonished. ‘Kingsley and McGonagall knew where I’d gone, so did the Aurors,’ he told his friends defensively. ‘I wasn’t going to wake Ron up to tell him. You all needed to sleep.’ ‘Have you forgotten how to write?’ Hermione shrilled. ‘A note would have been enough to stop us worrying! What have you been doing?’ Harry could feel himself becoming annoyed, but before he could reply, Kingsley stood and spoke. ‘Mr Weasley, Miss Granger–or–may I call you Ron and Hermione?’ he asked. They nodded. ‘Thank you. I asked Harry to come with me. I wanted his help. We need to agree on what, exactly, we are going to tell the press. Harry has also asked me to do something for him. I have spent almost three hours trying to set up a series of Portkeys between here and Australia.’ ‘Oh,’ exclaimed Hermione in a very small voice; she gave Harry a grateful look. ‘Wow.’ Ron grinned. ‘I’m expecting that the arrangements will be finalised very soon,’ Kingsley continued, smiling at the three teenagers. He watched them carefully. Ron and Hermione needed to talk to Harry. ‘I’ve no idea whether you two have eaten, but I know Harry left Hogwarts before breakfast, and I expect that you both wanted to find Harry before thinking about food. Why don’t you go outside and get something to eat. I’m sure that you still have things to talk about. If you head down towards the Embankment, you’ll find several Muggle cafs,’ Kingsley told them. ‘Take these,’ he pulled five twenty-pound notes from his desk and handed them to Harry. ‘I don’t suppose that you have much Muggle money. Meet me back here in an hour. I should have some news for you by then. We can finish our discussions later, Harry. We have all day.’ Harry was hungry, and so surprised by Kingsley’s offer that he unthinkingly accepted the cash, stuffed it in his pocket, grabbed his friends by the arms and led them from the Minister’s Office. ‘Come on, you two,’ he said as they walked through the secretary’s office, ‘let’s get some London air.’ ‘Harry,’ Hermione asked hesitantly as they left the empty office and walked towards the lift past rows of empty desks in a large office, ‘the Portkeys, they are for…’ ‘…for you?’ Harry interrupted. ‘Yes; it’s the fastest way to Australia apparently, though I don’t know all of the details yet.’ They were almost at the lifts. Hermione flung her arms around Harry, hugged him tightly, and kissed his cheek. ‘Thank you,’ she whispered, as Harry gave her a quick hug in return. ‘Oi,’ Ron protested, ‘what’re you doing?’ Harry grinned, ‘Jealous, eh?’ he winked at Ron over Hermione’s shoulder. Then he put his hands on Hermione’s shoulders and pushed her away to arms length. ‘So, what’s happening between you two?’ Both Ron and Hermione, Harry was pleased to see, blushed. ‘I don’t know,’ said Hermione, looking down at her feet. ‘It looked like you both knew yesterday,’ Harry laughed. He looked at Ron, who was looking more scared than Harry had ever seen him. ‘Heat of the moment,’ Hermione mumbled, still blushing, and avoiding Harry’s eyes. Ron looked shocked. Harry was surprised, and then it struck him … Hermione was nervous because she’d made the first move, she’d kissed him. She probably needed to be sure that is wasn’t heat of the moment, that she wasn’t another Lavender. Harry pulled Hermione into another hug, peering past her hair, he caught Ron’s frightened eyes and mouthed, ‘Say something, now!’ to his friend. He let go of Hermione, turned on his heels and strode over to the lift button. ‘I’ll get the lift,’ he announced. ‘Hermione,’ he heard Ron say. Harry determinedly looked at the lift doors and pushed the button again. ‘I didn’t think it was nothing,’ Ron continued. Hermione didn’t speak. Harry resisted the urge to look round. ‘I–would–could–you–me,’ Ron stuttered; he stopped, sighed and took a deep breath. ‘Hermione, would you like to go out with me,’ Ron asked slowly and carefully, ‘because I’d like to go out with you.’ There was no reply, but Harry heard muffled slurping noises coming from behind him. A lift arrived and the doors rattled open. Fortunately, it was empty. Harry stepped inside and turned to face the door. Ron and Hermione appeared to be glued together at the lips. Ron had his arms around her waist and had lifted her off the ground. ‘The lift’s here,’ Harry announced. Nothing happened. ‘THE LIFT IS HERE,’ he said again loudly. Ron lowered Hermione to the ground and they reluctantly parted. Both wore dazed expressions. Ron swaggered into the lift, hand in hand with Hermione. They were giggling. Harry was unsure whether to be amused or annoyed. ‘Atrium, please,’ Ron ordered with mock pomposity, while waving his hand imperiously. ‘Certainly sir,’ Harry replied, bowing, ‘and would sir and madam like me to stand in a corner facing the wall?’ All three burst out laughing as the tension and fear of the past few days were momentarily forgotten. They were still laughing hysterically, arms around each other, when the lift doors opened at the Atrium level. They were faced with half a dozen Ministry staff, looking at them in astonishment. ‘Sorry,’ Harry apologised to the surprised workers, ‘it wasn’t that funny really.’ Looking around, he recognised a stooped, white haired wizard. ‘Hello, Mr Perkins,’ he said. ‘We lost your tent; sorry.’ ‘Harry, and Ronald, isn’t it?’ Arthur Weasley’s elderly colleague asked, surprised. Harry glumly noticed that everyone’s eyes flicked up to look at his forehead. ‘And Hermione Granger,’ Ron added, still laughing. ‘See you later Mr Perkins. Sorry about the tent. We’ll buy you a new one, but we’ve got to go.’ The three slid their way past the Ministry workers and made their way through security, into the Atrium and to the exit. Ron and Hermione were holding hands. Hermione reached out and linked her other arm through Harry’s. ‘Where shall we go for breakfast?’ she asked as they approached the cubicles at the Ministry exit. ’Anywhere you like,’ Harry replied, waving the money Kingsley had given him. They each entered a toilet cubicle. ‘I’m feeling rather flush.’ They all started laughing again. When they reached the outside world with its bustle and traffic noise Harry pulled himself together. He looked around and found a road leading down towards the Thames. ‘This way,’ he said, leading his friends down the busy street. ‘Is everyone mad at me for leaving?’ he asked. Hermione nodded. ‘Mum was in a right state, she thought you’d been kidnapped,’ Ron said. ‘We were just getting ready to alert the DA when Ginny had her brainwave and found an Auror to ask.’ ‘How is she?’ Harry asked. Ron looked rather combative, so Harry immediately made the question more general. ‘How is your family, everyone, after…’ he hesitated before finally forcing the words from his mouth. ‘…after Fred?’ Ron said nothing. Hermione, looking worried, slipped her arm around Ron’s waist and hugged him. ‘Fred’s funeral will be a week from today,’ Hermione said. ‘Mr Weasley told us last night. He’s already made the arrangements. Everyone’s really worried about George. It’s hard for everyone, but George especially; he’s taking it really badly.’ ‘Fred…’ Ron began, his eyes wet with tears. ‘Fred wasn’t the only one; Remus, Tonks, and little Colin. Was there something we could have done, anything, to have stopped Voldemort sooner?’ Harry shook his head. ‘I’ve been wondering the same thing, Ron,’ he said. ‘A lot of good people died, too many.’ They walked down the street in a morose silence for several minutes. Harry could not think of anything to say. He wished that he hadn’t brought the subject up. He wondered how long the deaths would be a wall between them and happiness. It had been a bitter victory. ‘Will this place do?’ Harry asked, stopping abruptly outside a coffee shop. ‘It’s a nice morning. We could buy coffee and sandwiches to take out and sit on the riverside.’ Ten minutes later they were sitting on a wooden bench watching the boats on the Thames. Hermione sat between the two young men, but she and Ron each had an arm around the other and Harry found himself a little apart. Although he was with his friends, as they ate their sandwiches and drank scalding hot coffee, Harry felt strangely alone. ‘Busy, isn’t it?’ Ron said, breaking the uneasy silence. ‘Not particularly,’ Hermione replied, ‘you need to get out into the Muggle world more often, Ron.’ Ron shrugged. ‘What’s Kingsley got you doing, anyway?’ he asked Harry. ‘I’m writing a statement for the press, explaining how we defeated Tom Riddle.’ ‘YOU defeated Tom Riddle,’ Hermione corrected. ‘I couldn’t have done it without you,’ Harry argued, ‘and that’s what I’m going to say.’ Both Ron and Hermione looked pleased, though Hermione did her best to try to hide her pleasure. ‘Do you want to be Aurors?’ Harry asked. Ron nodded enthusiastically, but Hermione shook her head. ‘No,’ she said. ‘I want to join the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures when I finish school. There are a lot of changes needed in the Ministry!’ Ron rolled his eyes. ‘Auror–that would be cool,’ said Ron enthusiastically. ‘It’s a; shame about all the training, and anyway, we don’t have our NEWT’s.’ ‘We will be able to shortcut that,’ Harry said. He explained Kingsley’s offer. ‘You mean you’re not going back to school!’ Hermione exclaimed. ‘Harry, you can’t take a job. You will miss out on your final year!’ ‘It didn’t do Fred and George any harm, they’re both…’ Ron began before stopping, eyes wide in shock. Hermione kissed him on the cheek. ‘We’re all going to do that, Ron. A lot! We can’t forget Fred, we mustn’t. I’m sure that we’ll mention him a lot, he was a big part of our lives,’ she said, giving him a consoling hug. They pondered Hermione’s words, No one spoke until they had finished their sandwiches. ‘Time we were heading back,’ Harry announced, to break yet another uneasy silence. ‘Come on you two.’ ‘Hey,’ Ron asked, ‘where’d you get the t-shirt?’ ‘A present from Kreacher, clean clothes, a new t-shirt and a trip to the prefect’s bathroom. It’s the easiest way to avoid Aurors,’ Harry said. Ron laughed. ‘You can’t Apparate within the Hogwarts grounds,’ Ron mimicked Hermione’s lecturing voice, ‘unless you’re like Harry and have your own house elf. House elves are great!’ ‘Isn’t that what I’ve been telling you for years, Ron?’ Hermione asked waspishly. Ron just grinned. ‘Don’t you ever get sick of being right, Hermione? Just make a mistake, once in a while; see how the rest of us feel.’ Hermione opened her mouth to protest, but Ron grabbed her around the waist and kissed her into silence. Harry decided to leave them to it and walked on ahead. He wondered if he should ask Ron about Ginny, but he remembered Ron’s last reaction. Ginny can wait, he told himself sternly; there’s still work to be done. Anyway, he thought grimly, I can’t even talk to Ron about Fred, what could I possibly say to Ginny? Harry re-entered the Ministry without looking back over his shoulder. He was standing in the Atrium, waiting for Ron and Hermione, when a young witch with thick dark curly hair entered the Atrium from the lifts. She saw him, squealed ‘Harry Potter’ turned and ran back to the lifts. Harry groaned. Where were Ron and Hermione? Two minutes later, the curly haired witch was back, with two friends in tow. All three had quills and parchment with them. Harry was mortified; they were going to ask him for his autograph. All three were giggling as they approached Harry, who was by now fervently wishing that he hadn’t left his invisibility cloak in Kingsley’s office. The curly haired witch, blushing furiously, approached and, as he’d feared, asked him for his autograph. ‘Why?’ Harry asked aggressively. The curly haired witch was taken aback, but one of her friends, a buxom blonde in her mid twenties stepped forwards. ‘Why not?’ asked the blonde witch brazenly. ‘It ’ud be summat to tell our grandchildren, your grandchildren, too, if you play your cards right!’ she winked, her friends giggled. ‘D’yer wanna meet us in the pub after work? We finish at five.’ Harry had no idea what to say. He was saved by the appearance of Ron and Hermione, who were arm in arm. ‘Sorry,’ he said to the three witches, ‘my friends and I have an urgent appointment with the acting Minister. I think we’ll be busy all day.’ ‘Let’s go,’ he called, urgently, ‘we can’t keep Kingsley waiting.’ He hurried off to the lifts. Ron and Hermione followed after him, Ron shouting ‘what’s up, Harry?’ as they went. There was a lift open and waiting. Harry hurried in and jabbed the button before the three witches could join them. ‘What happened, Harry?’ Hermione asked. Harry told her. Ron burst out laughing. ‘Blimey mate,’ he chortled, ‘now you’re getting girls asking you out! If that had happened to me I’d have…’ he caught sight of Hermione’s face, ‘…done exactly the same thing,’ he finished in a monotone. ‘Ever considered having the words “Insensitive Wart” tattooed across your forehead, Ron?’ Hermione asked scornfully. ‘It might help the few poor fools who’ve never met you.’ Ron tried to look contrite. ‘Sorry, Hermione,’ he apologised. ‘I’m not used to this girlfriend stuff yet.’ ‘No?’ Hermione asked. ‘What was Lavender then?’ ‘I’ll tell you about Lavender, when you tell me about Krum,’ Ron offered. ‘That was years ago, Ron,’ Hermione began. ‘And…’ ‘Not now,’ Harry interrupted, ‘I don’t want to know,’ his discomfort showed on his face. Ron and Hermione both laughed at him and he wondered whether things would ever be normal again. They were flipping between laughter over pathetic jokes and maudlin silence. There was no normal, it had vanished in the battle. There was only the aftermath. The Ministry offices had started to fill while they had been out. A long queue of people waited to speak to the Minister. An officious middle-aged witch sat at the previously empty desk outside Kingsley’s door. She spotted Harry, Ron and Hermione and took them past a half dozen annoyed Ministry officials and straight in to see Kingsley. ‘Thank you, Brenda,’ said Kingsley as the witch ushered the three in, then left, closing the door behind her. ‘I’ve just been in contact with the head of the Corroboree; the Australian Wizarding Authority,’ Kingsley told them. ‘They will provide assistance in the search for your parents, Hermione. The Portkey Office has set up a series of Portkeys around the world. Each Portkey will transport you to the location of the next. I have a list of the Portkeys here.’ Kingsley waved a piece of parchment. ‘They will all be in place within the hour, and they are reversible, to allow you to use the same keys on the return journey.’ ‘You will be able to travel around the world in a series of hops of about five hundred miles each,’ Kingsley explained. ‘This will be a tiring and disorientating journey for you, but you will be able to make the journey fairly quickly.’ Hermione was almost dancing with happiness. ‘Thank you, Kingsley,’ she said, smiling happily, ‘and thank you, Harry,’ she continued, wrapping him in another hug. ‘After all you’ve done, this is a very small reward for you’ Kingsley rumbled. ‘Do you intend to travel alone?’ ‘No,’ Ron said, ‘I’m going too…’ he paused. ‘Er, if you want me to that is Hermione. I reckon you could do with some company.’ ‘Thanks, Ron,’ Hermione hugged and kissed him too, ‘but shouldn’t you stay with your Mum and Dad?’ Ron looked troubled, ‘They’ll want me to stay, but I’d rather be with you,’ he emphasised. ‘Best not go anywhere without telling them, mate,’ Harry advised. ‘Good point,’ Ron admitted. He turned to Hermione. ‘We can Apparate back to Hogwarts and tell them.’ ‘You can’t Apparate anywhere,’ Kingsley ordered. ‘No licence, like Harry.’ Ron looked crestfallen; Kingsley smiled. ‘So, you two had best get down to level six and report to the Apparition Test Centre, good luck.’ ‘Wow, thanks, Kingsley,’ said Ron, astonished. ‘C’mon, Harry.’ ‘You can stay here, Hermione,’ said Kingsley, ‘and we can discuss the details of your journey.’ ‘Good luck, Ron; good luck, Harry,’ she called as they left the Minister’s Office. ‘You don’t mind if I go off to Australia with Hermione, do you? I reckon she needs the company, you know?’ Ron asked when they were in the lift. He was watching Harry carefully for his reaction. Harry looked up into his best friend’s anxious face. ‘Just go, Ron, spend some time with Hermione and don’t worry about me. I’ll be okay. It’s not like there’s another Voldemort waiting to kill me.’ Harry paused, ‘One thing though, I wouldn’t take Hermione back to Hogwarts with you when you go and talk to your Mum.’ ‘Why?’ Ron looked confused. The lift doors opened. ‘You’ve both got such a soppy look on your face when you look at each other. If your Mum catches sight of that, you’ve got no chance of going,’ Harry replied, a grin spreading across his face. ‘Good point.’ Ron agreed as Harry knocked on the door of the Apparition Test Centre. Half an hour later they were both back in Kingsley’s office, each with a newly printed Apparition licence. The queue outside Kingsley’s door was now even longer, but again the officious Brenda ushered them past it. ‘The Portkeys are ready,’ Hermione beamed as Ron and Harry entered the office. ‘We might even be able to get there and back in a day. Depending on how quickly the Australians can find Mum and Dad. I’ve already given Kinsley the names to look for. Someone is sending the information to Australia now.’ ‘Great,’ said Ron, waving his apparition licence in her face. ‘Well of course you both passed,’ smiled Hermione dismissively, ‘after all the practice you’ve had this year.’ ‘Kingsley,’ Harry said, ‘there are a lot of people waiting to see you. If you can find me a desk somewhere I’ll write down the names of all of the Death Eaters I saw at the battle. Hermione can help me while Ron goes to talk to his Mum and Dad. I can work on that press statement later.’ So, while Brenda escorted Harry and Hermione to a cubicle in the Auror Office on level two, Ron hurried off to talk to his parents and, he hoped, pack for a trip to Australia. Harry and Hermione wrote and checked a list of names of known Death Eaters and many others who they had seen fighting alongside Voldemort. It was almost noon when Ron strolled into the Auror’s office, a large rucksack on his back. ‘It looks like it’s time you went and got packed too, Hermione,’ Harry said, grinning at Ron. ‘I haven’t unpacked yet,’ she said, pulling up her jumper and taking a small beaded bag from her jeans pocket. ‘Was your Mum all right about you coming with me?’ Ron looked a little embarrassed. ‘I told Mum we’d only be two or three days; that we should be back by Wednesday at the latest. So she’s letting me go,’ he told her. ‘She seems to think that all three of us are going,’ he continued, the tips of his ears reddening. ‘I’m … not sure how that happened,’ Hermione snorted in disbelief, Ron rounded on her. ‘Look, do you want my company or not? I know I’ll be in trouble with Mum when we get back, but this was the quickest and easiest way for me to get permission to come with you. If she knew Harry wasn’t going, I wouldn’t have been allowed to go either. She wanted me to stay at the Burrow until Fred’s–er. So I–sort of misunderstood her. I didn’t lie, but I didn’t correct her when she assumed that we were all going,’ Ron continued, getting redder by the second. ‘I don’t want you to go off by yourself, Hermione. I…I just want to be with you, to help. I thought you wanted me to be with you!’ ‘I’d like you to come with me, Ron,’ said Hermione. ‘But you can’t keep tricking your mum like that.’ ‘If I was as clever as you I wouldn’t need to,’ Ron replied. ‘I’d just alter her memory. That would make my life a lot easier. So, am I going with you, Hermione?’ ‘Magic can’t solve everything, Ron,’ she told him. ‘But of course you can come with me.’ She stood and hugged him. Ron responded with a passionate kiss. ‘You two stay here,’ Harry sighed, ‘I’ll go and speak to Kingsley.’ Ron replied by giving an enthusiastic thumbs up gesture, without breaking apart from Hermione. Harry was back within minutes, a small bag in his hand. Hermione and Ron were still busy snogging and did not notice his approach. He stood in silence for a few minutes; watching them, thinking about Ginny, and wondering what to do. Eventually, they noticed his presence. ‘I’ve just found out that Colin Creevey’s funeral will be on the Saturday,’ Harry announced sadly. ‘He was in the DA. We should go shouldn’t we?’ ‘Of course,’ Ron and Hermione said together. Harry gave a morose grunt of agreement. They should, he knew that they should, but as he thought about the many funerals to come he shivered. ‘I’ve got the first Portkey,’ he held up the bag. ‘It will work when you touch it. Kingsley wants you to leave from the Atrium.’ As he walked down to the Ministry entrance, Harry realised that he was missing Ginny more than ever. But he could not go to the Burrow. Molly Weasley thought that he was on his way to Australia with Ron and Hermione. Harry shook Ron’s hand and kissed Hermione on the cheek. ‘Look after each other,’ he told them. ‘See you soon, I hope.’ Hermione, her eyes full of tears, hugged Harry and returned the kiss. ‘Take care of yourself, Harry. We should only be gone for a couple of days with any luck. We’ll be back for…’ she looked at Ron, tears in her eyes, ‘…for the funerals.’ The small bag contained an empty beer can. Ron held out his hand. Hermione entwined her fingers with his and they both straightened their forefingers. ‘Bye, Harry,’ Hermione whispered. ‘Thank you.’ ‘And go and see Ginny,’ she added hastily as she and Ron reached into the bag. When they touched the can both they, and the can, were enveloped in a blue light. They vanished. Suddenly alone, Harry walked back to the lift and returned to the Minister’s office. For much of the day Harry sat quietly in the corner of the office, working on his statement while listening with interest to the changes Kingsley was beginning to make at the Ministry. The day wore on, and despite the frequent interruptions by harassed Ministry officials, Harry also managed to finish telling Kingsley about the events of the past nine months. The two remained in the Minister’s office after the majority of the weekend staff had left. They were in the office until nine in the evening finishing Harry’s press statement. Eventually, Harry declared himself happy with the result. Kingsley had tried several times to persuade Harry to make some alterations, claiming that Harry was being unduly modest, but he had been unsuccessful. The decision not to tell anyone about else about the Horcruxes had been the first one they had made. As far as Harry was concerned, the fewer people who knew, the better. The official statement said that Voldemort had used Dark magic in order to tie himself to life; that the magic was associated with the Gaunt ring, Slytherin’s locket, a cup belonging to the Lestranges and the snake Nagini. It was close enough to the truth, and it allowed Harry to give particular credit to Professor Dumbledore, Ron, Hermione and Neville for their part in destroying the Horcruxes, for their essential in ensuring Riddle’s defeat. Harry and the acting Minister then discussed tactics for the meeting with the Wizengamot, which was due to start at two o’clock the following afternoon. Kingsley, Harry soon realised, was a consummate politician. He asked Harry what he wanted, and together they planned how to achieve his aims. It was after ten o’clock in the evening when Harry left the Ministry. He walked for over an hour through the noisy, busy, and brightly lit Muggle world. He walked slowly trying to gather his thoughts as he headed towards Grimmauld Place. He tried to concentrate on the dead, the work to be done, but his mind returned again and again to Ginny. His head swam with memories of her eyes, her hair, her lips, and her smile. He should have spoken to her before now, but he had no idea what he could say, or how he could say it. It was approaching midnight when he reached Grimmauld Place. The Death Eaters had done remarkably little damage; except, Harry discovered to his horror, to Sirius’ old room. His house had obviously been searched, ransacked, but only his godfather’s old room had been vandalised; the walls were scorched and charred, every piece of furniture in that room had been destroyed. The other dark, Slytherin influenced rooms were almost untouched; whether out of respect for the dcor, from respect of Bellatrix Lestrange, or out of fear of Tom Riddle, Harry could only guess. Kreacher had prepared the master bedroom for Harry, and had tidied the kitchen, but the rest of the house was still a mess. Harry spent half an hour reassuring the elderly elf that he’d done enough, and that it didn’t matter if it took weeks, or months to get the place back into shape. He’d then asked Kreacher to wake him at eight. The master bedroom was dingy and depressing. At least, thought Harry as he collapsed into bed, the bed was comfortable and the sheets clean and fresh. Ginny haunted his wildly varying dreams. He dreamt that she, Hermione and Luna had been killed by Bellatrix Lestrange and woke in a panic. When he finally returned to sleep, much later, he found himself walking into the Gryffindor common room and catching Ginny in a passionate embrace with Dean Thomas. He woke, shaking and sweating, and checked his watch. It was six o’clock. He was still tired, and it felt as if a troll was tap dancing on his skull, but he did not want to go back to sleep, he couldn’t risk it. Instead he took a bath. |
| Reviews 153 |
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