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SIYE Time:11:58 on 29th March 2024
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The Minister of Magic
By theeighthweasley

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Category: Post-DH/PM
Characters:Harry/Ginny, Other
Genres: Drama
Warnings: Mild Language, Mild Sexual Situations
Rating: R
Reviews: 5
Summary: It's 2021. Harry Potter is forty-one years old. He is the most respected man in the wizarding community. Will all of his responsibilities and all of the attention cause troubles in his marriage?
Hitcount: Story Total: 3592



Disclaimer: Harry Potter Publishing Rights © J.K.R. Note the opinions in this story are my own and in no way represent the owners of this site. This story subject to copyright law under transformative use. No compensation is made for this work.



Author's Notes:
Any of the mentioned characters/situations are copyrighted to the maker of all that is wonderful, J.K. Rowling. I own nothing.





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Harry Clemens shuffled through papers on his desk before he wiped a bit of sweat from his brow. He looked around his office; his eyes flicked quickly from one object to another in a frantic way. It was obvious that he was waiting for someone (or, as this needs to be added, something). The way the man tapped his fingers on the desk and continued to look nervously around the room made it obvious. His jaw locked when he heard a knock on his door.

“Come in.”

To Harry's relief it was only his secretary, Janet, that entered the room. She smiled tightly at her boss, then told him that she had gotten a call from someone named Sarah, claiming to be the secretary of the man named Harry Potter. Janet went on to say that Sarah said her own boss was on his way and for the Prime Minister not to be alarmed with how he arrived. Harry's skin crawled as the possibilities floated through his mind. Would this man climb through the window? Impossible! The Prime Minister thought to himself as Janet left the room. The office was located in one of the most protected buildings in all of London (next to any of the Royal Family's, of course); it would be a snowball's chance in hell when a man would be able to climb through a window that didn't even open. Would the man burst through the door and rush into Harry's office? Oh, Harry hoped not. That would only cause his bodyguard, Samuel, to call more backup or something dramatic like that. Harry hoped to God that the other Harry wouldn't burst through the door like that.

To the Prime Minister's right, a fire crackled and flames danced almost lazily in a cozy-looking fireplace. Some people would scold Harry for still having fires in the old fireplace, but he was an old-fashioned man; he liked himself a warm fire while he was at work. Glancing at the fire now, Harry suddenly felt it looked out of place amongst the flat-screen television, the multiple phones, and the two computers in the office. Suddenly, Harry felt uncomfortable in his own office. This was the office he had been in for almost a year now, how the bloody hell was he uncomfortable in it? He didn't understand.

Almost positive it was the fire, Harry stood up and walked over to it. Like any confused or aggravated man would do, the Prime Minister put his hand on the mantle above the fireplace and stared down at the flames. The made him a bit drowsy, but he stayed where he was. He considered dousing the fire, but before he could make a decision on whether or not to follow through with the action, the flames quickly turned an emerald green. Gasping loudly, Harry jumped back and his back hit his desk. He keeled over, holding his stomach in pain, even though it wasn't his stomach that was in pain. And, before Harry could do anything else, a man, an honest to God man, casually stepped out of the green flames and into the office as if he did that kind of thing every single day. Maybe he did, who knew?

“Hello, Harry. I'm Harry,” the man said, holding out his hand for the Prime Minister to take. Harry (the prime minister) was too stunned to take it. Harry (the other man) simply shrugged and cleared his throat before putting his hand down and smiling pleasantly. Is he offended? the Prime Minister wondered as the man surveyed the office curiously.

“I...I don't understand. How in the world did you do that? I mean, you stepped through the bloody fire! The fire!” The man turned at the Prime Minister's words, the pleasant smile still present on his face. The man had dark hair and piercing green eyes that eyed the Prime Minister curiously from behind a pair of circular eyeglasses. Prime Minister Harry straightened up, where the Other Harry held out his hand again.

“I'm Harry Potter. I'm the Minister of Magic.”

“The what?” Prime Minister Harry said as he blindly reached for the Other Harry's hand and shook it weakly. He was still a bit frightened, it seemed.

“The Minister of Magic. If you would sit, I would explain my position to you.” Completely ignoring the fact that the Minister of Magic Harry was inviting him to sit down in his own office, Prime Minister Harry took a seat in a cushy armchair near the big screen TV, as far away from the fire as possible. He didn't need more people walking out of it and scaring him like the supposed Minister of Magic had done just minutes before. The Minister of Magic Harry sat on the small couch across from the Prime Minister. Harry Potter cleared his throat quietly, although it rose over the only noise in the room: the crackling of the fire.

“Now, I know you're frightened by how I just strolled out of your fire, but I can explain. If you want me to, that is.” Harry Potter lifted his dark eyebrows at the Prime Minister, waiting for permission to explain.

Now feeling the least bit comfortable, the Prime Minister straightened up, cleared his own throat, and crossed his legs. His left was crossed over his right at the knee and his hands were folded on top of the knee. “Go on,” he said, watching the green-eyed man with his own brown eyes.

“As I said, I'm the Minister of Magic. I'm the lead of the wizarding community of the UK. I was actually supposed to introduce myself to you when you were first elected, but I've been a bit busy.” Harry Potter emitted a sigh before he continued. “That painting over there,” he gestured to a portrait of, for a lack of better words, a dumpy man wearing a silvery wig that stopped a little past his shoulders. “It's supposed to inform you of my arrival, but he hasn't been very cooperative. So my secretary had to use the one telephone we have at the Ministry to call your secretary to tell you that I was coming.” Harry Potter shook his head and glared at the dirty oil painting who, to the Prime Minister's surprise, let out a snigger. Sighing, the Minister of Magic waved his hand dismissively in the air and blinked.

“Did you say you were a wizard? With a pointy hat and all that nonsense?”

“Oh, no. I think you're confusing me with a witch. Although, I don't know many witches nowadays who still wear pointy hats.”

“I still don't understand, though, Mr. Potter! You expect me to believe you that there is a whole 'wizarding community' underneath my very own nose. I think not.”

“But I think so, Mr. Clemens. I could prove it to you, if you'd like. After all, I did step through your burning fire. I don't see what else I have to do to convince you, but I guess I'll do whatever it takes.” With a shrug of nonchalance, Harry Potter reached into his suit coat with his right hand and pulled out a slim, dark brown wooden object. “Do you mind if I split your couch open?” When Harry Clemens did not answer, Harry Potter pointed the object at the couch and said, “Diffindo,” he said rather loudly. The sound was followed by a rip, which was the couch cushion splitting almost in half. Harry Clemens stared in disbelief, just like he had when the Minister of Magic stepped through the fire. All of this was too much to process.

“Now, watch as I fix it.” He lazily flicked the object and said something that sounded to Harry Clemens like 'repair'. The rip in the couch disappeared and the Prime Minister blinked.

“Do you believe me now?”

Harry Clemens nodded, his gaze still locked on the couch cushion next to which Harry Potter was seated. He rubbed his eyes and shook his head. Then he squinted. This continued for a few minutes before Harry Potter cleared his throat.

“Can I explain further or would you like me to show you more?”

“No, no. Go on...”

“Thank you,” Harry Potter said, stashing the object back into his suit pocket. He crossed his legs and moved into a similar position as Mr. Clemens. Once more, Harry Potter cleared his throat before he went on to explain more about his role in the wizarding world.

“As I said before, I'm the Minister of Magic. Much like yourself, I attend important meetings, overlook the voting in of laws, and a lot of other things. I'm the head of the wizarding community of UK, again, as I said before. It's my job to work with you with manners that could pertain to Muggles. Muggles being non-magical people. If something were to happen in my world that would affect your world, I would have to inform you and work with you in ways that would keep ours worlds from colliding or your world from being harmed.”

“H-harmed?”

“Nothing too major has happened within the last twenty years or so. But I won't get into that. Not today, at least.”

“Okay. I'm still very uncomfortable with all of this, I get the gist of it. It's just a lot to take in.”

Harry Potter chuckled and nodded. His unruly hair seemed even more so when he straightened once more. Then Harry Potter rose from the couch. Harry Clemens followed suit and rose from the armchair. Harry Clemens held out his hand to Harry Potter and he took it, giving it a good shake.

“I suppose I'll be seeing you again, Harry.”

“You can count on it, Harry.”

With a pop, Harry Potter was gone from the room. The Minister of Magic was an odd man. Then again, he was a wizard. For all Harry Clemens knew, all wizards were odd.
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