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SIYE Time:17:34 on 28th March 2024
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Aurors and Schoolgirls
By Northumbrian

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Category: Post-Hogwarts, Post-DH/AB
Characters:Harry/Ginny
Genres: Drama, Romance
Warnings: Mild Language
Rating: PG
Reviews: 151
Summary:
The Wizarding War is over.

For some Auror training has begun; their lives are centred round London, and the Ministry of Magic. For others, there is the inevitable return to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry; their lives are centred around schooling in Scotland. Do these parted pairings, these divided duos, have different destinations and divergent destinies? When, where, and how can these separated souls meet? Holidays, Hogsmeade and Quidditch.

Hitcount: Story Total: 89055; Chapter Total: 5874





Author's Notes:
Chapter 14 has been rewritten, and much of this chapter may be familiar to those who read the previous version of it. Thanks to AmelĂ­e for her comments, corrections and input. Please review. Constructive criticism is always gratefully received.




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15. Christmas: Decorations

Hand in hand with Ginny, Harry stepped out of the fireplace. They had arrived in a white walled room, the blue ceiling of which was supported by semicircular arches of dark timber.

The clamour began immediately and Harry stopped walking, startled by the attention. The room was filled with reporters and photographers. Ginny squeezed his hand in encouragement; he returned the squeeze and side-by-side they moved forwards, braving the flashing lights. Harry had no idea where he was going, but dozens of elegantly robed strangers were walking through the room and out of the door. Harry and Ginny followed the other guests, ignoring dozens of shouted questions and requests.

‘No ring yet, Miss Weasley?’

‘Over here, Mr Potter, over here.’

‘Smile, please!’

‘Never mind smile! Give her a kiss!’

‘Harry, Harry!’

‘Why wear Muggle clothes, Potter?’

Harry had only given one interview since the Battle, a radio interview with Lee Jordan. He’d refused every other request. Any questions about the Battle were answered by the Ministry press office, which, under instructions from the Minister, cleared all relevant press releases with Harry. The press had been constantly clamouring for additional information and this was their first real opportunity, it was Harry’s first major public appearance since the Battle.

When he was not working, Harry hid himself away at Grimmauld Place, The Burrow, or in the Muggle world. Today was different. There was an expectation that, finally, the press would get their chance to interview “The Reclusive Hero Potter”, and he wasn’t looking forward to it.

Harry had tried, unsuccessfully, to persuade the Minister to ban the press from attending the event. He had eventually been persuaded to drop his objections by several wildly speculative articles. Over the past few weeks some sections of the press had taken to suggesting that he was unstable, that Voldemort had left him scarred, or crazy. The fact that, probably out of guilt, Xenophilius Lovegood had headlined the last issue of the Quibbler, “Harry Potter is as Sane as I Am!” hadn’t actually helped.

Kingsley had gently reminded Harry of the articles and suggested that a short press conference before the events began, a press conference where Harry would, finally, answer a few questions, would be the best solution. Afterwards, Kingsley promised, all reporters, other than two official Ministry photographers and a member of the Ministry press office, would be excluded from the presentation and the ball.

Harry and Ginny followed the other guests. He would have to answer questions, but not yet, not now. He knew better than to make an unguarded reply to shouted enquiries, so he remained silent. Ginny’s hand in his comforted and calmed him. The journalists’ words faded into meaningless background noise as he gently rubbed his thumb across her knuckles. She responded with a gentle squeeze of his hand and, to the annoyance of the journalists, they simply strode past the shouts and shrieks, into a press free corridor, and from there, into the Mage’s Hall.

Harry looked around the hall in amazement. The room was larger than the Great Hall at Hogwarts, and made more impressive by its unfamiliarity. At the point where the high walls began to curve into the vaulted ceiling, flags hung from poles. At the right hand end of the room, behind the dais, stained glass windows sparkled and shone with the reflected light from the glittering chandeliers.

Harry and Ginny were not the last to arrive. The Minister for Magic and the Chief Sorceress of the Wizengamot, Griselda Marchbanks, arrived immediately after them, and followed them into the hall.

As they entered the hall, Harry and Ginny looked around for their friends and family. Several people, whom Harry did not recognise, called his name, and urgently beckoned him over. He ignored them and instead tried to locate his friends in the crowds. It took only moments, Dumbledore’s Army were clustered together, a collection of young people whose clothing, which would be considered smart in the Muggle world, was causing something of a stir.

The boys were all in suits, Justin had chosen to wear a bright blue blazer, and George wore a white dinner jacket, a pink shirt, and a magenta cummerbund. Otherwise the boys all wore blacks and greys.

The girls were a much more colourful bunch. All, apart from Angelina, who wore a white trouser suit, were in colourful skirts and dresses. The Patil twins wore identical and very colourful saris. Hermione wore a pale blue jacket and a matching, and rather short, skirt. She’d tied her hair back with a ribbon and, Harry thought, she’d managed to look rather attractive. Cho wore a deep red suit, the skirt even shorter than Hermione’s; she smiled at Ginny, who fingered the torc around her neck and returned the smile.

Relieved, Harry’s attention moved to Neville. He was in trouble; it was obvious from the expression on his face. Neville, it seemed, had not told Romilda what the DA were planning. She must have been furious to discover that her obviously expensive, and rather revealing, robe had been outshone by the outrageous Muggle clothes worn by the DA. She was clinging determinedly to Neville’s arm, and trying to smile, but the photographers in the hall were ignoring her and concentrating on the girls in Muggle clothes.

Ginny nudged Harry and nodded towards the centre of the knot of young adults.

‘Impressive, even for Luna,’ observed Ginny. Harry followed her gaze and grinned.

The combination of lime green t-shirt, tartan kilt and dozens of jangling bangles was interesting, and would probably have been enough colour. But it obviously wasn’t enough for Luna. Her choice of one red and one lemon yellow baseball boot added to the confusion created by her multi-coloured striped socks. The crowning glory, however, was the purple pork pie hat with its wildly waving peacock feather. As Harry smiled, Luna spotted them, and waved her arms in a wild windmilling motion.

‘Oh, look, she’s worried in case we haven’t noticed her,’ Ginny observed straight-faced. Harry snorted with laughter, and he and Ginny strolled over to join their friends.

Fifteen minutes later, while he and Ginny were talking to Seamus, Lavender and Firenze the Centaur, a hush fell over the room. On the dais the Minister was motioning for silence. Reluctantly, Harry released Ginny’s hand.

‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ the Minister began. ‘There will be a short question and answer session, after which the press have kindly agreed to leave the room to allow us to conduct the real business of the day with a minimum of interruptions. The medal ceremony will begin soon; first, however, Mr Potter and I will be answering a few questions. Will you join me, please, Harry?’ Kingsley Shacklebolt, resplendent in dark blue dress robes, easily found Harry in the crowd and beckoned him forward.

‘Good luck,’ Ginny whispered, kissing him on the cheek. Harry walked slowly towards the dais, more nervous at every step.

He walked nervously to the front of the silent crowd and up onto the dais. To the accompaniment of dozens of clicking cameras, Kingsley Shacklebolt shook his hand warmly.

‘If there are questions which you don’t want to answer, simply don’t answer them. I’ll just give the official Ministry reply,’ the Minister for Magic murmured.

‘Thanks, Kingsley,’ said Harry.

‘Fifteen minutes, ladies and gentlemen,’ said Kingsley. And it began.

‘Mr Potter, is You-Know-Who really dead this time?’ was the first question. Harry groaned.

‘Yes! He is NOT coming back.’ Harry felt his temper rising. ‘And his name, the name his mother gave him, was Tom Marvolo Riddle, so call him Tom Riddle, not Lord Voldemort, or the Dark Lord, or any other nonsense. And don’t call me the Chosen One.’

‘If he’s dead, and we’re all finally safe, why become an Auror?’ the reporter asked.

‘Because many of his supporters are still at large, and they must be caught. And because we need to be vigilant…’ Harry stopped mid-sentence, he was beginning to sound like Mad-eye Moody, he realised, he glanced towards the Minister.

‘And because the Auror Office needs brave and committed young people like Harry. People who are prepared to stand up for what is right,’ Kingsley said smoothly. ‘Next question please.’

‘About the Gringotts break-in…’ a blond-haired young man began. Kingsley interrupted the questioner before he’d even begun to ask the question.

‘A joint statement was made by the Ministry and Gringotts only days after the robbery. The only item taken by Mr Potter and his friends was infused with Dark Magic, it was taken from the Lestrange vault and destroyed because Voldemort was using it to keep himself alive. No more questions on that subject. There is nothing more to say,’ the Minister boomed forcefully.

‘Then perhaps you could show us the Elder Wand, Mr Potter; the wand with which you killed You-Know-Who,’ the blond young man asked.

Kingsley and Harry exchanged glances and Harry indicated that he was prepared to speak. He had been thinking for months about the wild rumours about the Elder Wand. Playing for time while he gathered his thoughts, Harry stared into the young reporter’s pale eyes.

‘Tom Riddle! Not You-Know-Who, or Lord Voldemort, or the Dark Lord.’ said Harry forcefully. ‘If you want to ask me questions about Tom Riddle, call him by his name. He wasn’t Lord of anything, or anywhere, and he had a name, so we should use it.’ Harry stared at the man, waiting, and silently demanding that the journalist ask the question again.

The journalist sighed, ‘If you insist! Mr Potter. Will you show us the Elder Wand, the wand with which you killed TomRiddle.’ The young man ran the words together in his haste to say the name.

‘First, I did not kill Tom Riddle. I tried to disarm him and, as a consequence, his killing curse rebounded. He killed himself. As for this “Elder Wand” I keep hearing about. Well–as everyone knows, I was raised by Muggles. I didn’t know anything about the Elder Wand until earlier this year. It’s an odd legend, isn’t it? The story, as I understand it, is of an “unbeatable wand” that can only be taken from a Wizard by his murderer. Surely that makes it a beatable wand?’ he suggested. Several people laughed at Harry’s comment.

‘Riddle’s own wand didn’t work against me. We both discovered that during the Triwizard Tournament,’ said Harry, speaking slowly and carefully. ‘Last year, just before I went on the run, Riddle stole Lucius Malfoy’s wand, but that didn’t work either. Finally, just before the Battle, he stole Professor Dumbledore’s wand. You all know what happened that time. I’m still here.’

‘The Elder…’ the journalist began.

‘Professor Dumbledore’s wand didn’t do Riddle much good, did it?’ Harry replied. ‘Do you really believe that Tom Riddle, “the world’s most dangerous wizard” stole “the unbeatable wand” and was then beaten by a seventeen-year-old who simply tried to disarm him?’

The journalist stared at Harry in confusion, but continued determinedly.

‘Then, can we see your wand, Mr Potter, the wand which defeated You-Kno…’ The journalist hesitated under Harry’s gaze. ‘A photograph of you holding the wand that defeated … TomRiddle,’ he said.

‘I’m afraid that you can’t see that wand, either,’ said Harry, smiling. He pulled his wand from his jacket pocket and raised it. Cameras flashed. ‘This is my wand, holly and phoenix feather. This is the wand I bought from Mr Ollivander when I was eleven years old. It was broken before the Battle. I couldn’t use it, but I was lucky enough to be able to repair it afterwards. If you want to see “the wand which defeated Tom Riddle,” you’ll have to speak to the Malfoy family. I … borrowed … a wand during our escape from Malfoy Manor. Last month I returned it. It was–it is–Draco Malfoy’s wand. But if you want to see it, you’ll need clearance from the Auror Office first, as both Draco and Lucius Malfoy are convicted Death Eaters and currently under house arrest.’

‘You gave a convicted Death Eater a wand? The wand that killed You-Know-Who?’ the man asked in astonishment.

‘I actually gave the wand to Draco’s mother, Narcissa Malfoy. Lucius Malfoy has been wandless for over a year now, as I told you. I borrowed Draco’s wand when we escaped. Draco managed to drop and lose his mother’s wand at the Battle of Hogwarts. I’m afraid that Draco is rather careless with wands. Narcissa Malfoy, as I told the Wizengamot at her trial, is not, and has never been a Death Eater. In fact she helped me to defeat Riddle, so I gave her son’s wand to her for safekeeping.’

‘You’ve asked enough, Mr Green. We’ll take a question from someone else,’ Kingsley announced, dismissing the young blond man’s still raised hand and turning instead towards a middle aged woman.

‘Is it true that you spent your time on the run with the Muggle-born Miss Hermione Granger?’

‘Yes, and Ron Weasley was with us, too,’ Harry said in exasperation.

‘Are you still on speaking terms with all four of your ex-girlfriends?’ she asked.

‘Four?’ Harry was startled. The woman looked down at a list.

‘Miss Granger, Miss Parvati Patil, Miss Chang and Miss Lovegood,’ the woman said.

‘What?’ Harry spluttered, suddenly wishing that he was still being asked about something simple, like the Elder Wand. ‘They aren’t … weren’t … I’m not answering any questions about my personal life.’

‘So you won’t confirm that you and Miss Weasley are engaged?’ the reporter asked.

‘No.’

‘No you won’t confirm it, or no, you are not engaged?’ she pressed. Harry managed to find Ginny in the crowd. She grinned and winked at him.

‘Yes,’ said Harry, suddenly inspired. He watched Ginny laugh.

‘Enough, Miss Newsham,’ Kingsley said. ‘Can we have someone else, please? Mr Hackworth.’ The Minister pointed to an elderly wizard with an impressively bulbous blue-veined nose.

‘Severus Snape was appointed Headmaster of Hogwarts by You-Know-Lord … Riddle … Tom … thingy,’ Hackworth began.

‘Correct,’ Harry smiled at the man’s confusion. He wished that Professor Dumbledore could see the chaos a simple insistence that the press use Riddle’s real name was causing. Several of the guests were laughing at the journalist’s discomfort.

‘You claimed that Snape killed Dumbledore, so why are you now defending him?’ The elderly pressman asked sharply.

‘Snape–Professor Snape–was always working for Professor Dumbledore. I didn’t discover that until after he’d died. While Sn–Professor Snape was Headmaster he provided me with–help. He got the Sword of Godric Gryffindor to me; it was invaluable. Ask both Ron Weasley and Neville Longbottom how useful the sword was,’ said Harry.

‘I’m told that you didn’t like Professor Snape,’ said Hackworth accusingly.

‘I didn’t,’ Harry admitted. ‘Not many people did. In fact, I’ve thought a lot about him since the Battle and I suspect that Snape didn’t even like himself. But he gave his life to defeat Tom Riddle and it would be wrong of me not to acknowledge his contribution.’

The elderly wizard was about to ask another question, but Kingsley cut him off.

‘One final question,’ Kingsley announced. He pointed to a fashionably robed and well made up witch.

‘Why wear outrageous Muggle clothing to a prestigious event like this? Have you no respect for Wizarding traditions?’ the woman asked acidly. Harry took a deep breath and looked nervously around the room.

‘Some traditions are good, they remind us of our past, but some are simply an excuse to avoid change.’ Harry told her. ‘The last person who I heard use the “Wizarding traditions” argument was Dolores Umbridge. She’s in Azkaban and I want nothing to do with the “traditions” Umbridge believed to be important; traditions like prejudice and favouritism. We should be moving forwards, not standing still, and certainly not moving backwards.

‘I was raised by Muggles and I wore Muggle clothes when I was on the run. I usually wear Muggle clothes, because I’m comfortable in them. That should be a good enough reason, but, in fact, that isn’t the reason I’m wearing Muggle clothes today. I’m doing it because my friend and former team mate, Katie Bell, asked us all to wear them. We’re doing it to show our support for Muggles and Muggle-borns. Katie runs the Society for the Assistance of Muggle-borns, she’s doing her best to help hundreds of people who lost everything last year,’ said Harry.

‘When Thicknesse took over the Ministry, some of you probably simply watched your neighbours being rounded up and shipped off to prison, or worse,’ he continued. ‘You were probably too scared to get involved. Now is your chance to make amends. Many Muggle-borns still need our help, and I hope that you’ll all speak to Katie … she’s the one in red who’s waving … give generously to her charity, and print the press release she’s prepared. Thank you.’

‘That’s all,’ Kingsley announced with finality. ‘This press conference is now at an end. If all members of the press can leave the hall now, please, after you’ve seen Miss Bell, of course.’

Harry stood alongside Kingsley and watched as the reporters were escorted out. Katie had hurriedly made the way to the exit, along with her friend Leanne, and Oliver Wood. It looked to Harry as though Oliver was actually threatening the departing press. Whatever he was doing, Katie and Leanne were handing out press releases and collecting cash from the journalists.

Harry walked from the dais and rejoined his friends. Ginny and Hermione both hugged him; Ron patted him on the back.

‘What was all that stuff about Parvati and Luna?’ Ron asked. Harry shrugged, he’d been puzzled by the question, too.

‘You took Parvati to the Yule Ball, and Luna to Slughorn’s party, Harry,’ said Ginny, ‘had you forgotten?’

She looked into his face and began to laugh. ‘Obviously, you had. But someone’s been feeding stories to the press. I wonder who?’ She looked across at Romilda Vane, who did not meet her gaze.

At the front of the hall, the stage was being prepared for the medal presentations. The ceremony would begin very soon. Harry sighed.

‘It will be over soon, Harry,’ Ginny assured him. ‘But, you fought hard to get most of these medals awarded, you should be happy that you’ve succeeded, not unhappy because you’ll be praised, too.’ She stared up into his face. ‘You’re a hero, live with it, or else I’ll start a petition to get a statue of you erected, and then you’ll be embarrassed forever!’ she announced, her eyes twinkling. Harry smiled, so she hugged him tightly and kissed his chin. ‘And you’re going to dance with me later. No excuses,’ she added.

The ‘Battle of Hogwarts’ medals were the first to be awarded. The simple bronze medals were awarded to every participant in the Battle. The non-human recipients were rewarded first, and the ceremony began badly, with several disapproving murmurs.

The very first medals to be presented were given to Firenze, the sole representative of the centaurs. Professor Firenze, as Kingsley called him, looked disdainfully down on the mutterers as he collected medals for his herd.

‘These are meaningless tokens,’ Firenze told the assembled wizards, waving the medals with a dismissive clatter. ‘We do not seek, nor do we require, your approval for our actions. We do what the stars foretell, what we know is right for our herd. I am here to accept these worthless pieces of metal, not because I wish to bask in the praise of mere humans, but as a mark of the respect we have for our friend Albus Dumbledore, and for Harry Potter, who fought to have these tokens awarded to us. The thanks of those we respect is a valuable gift. What others think is immaterial, farewell.’ Firenze reared up in his hind legs and galloped from the hall, forcing many guests to scatter.

The Hogwarts house-elves were next, their four brave representatives, the only house-elves prepared to appear in public, accepted their medals with an embarrassed ‘Thank you, thank you, we must go, we has work.’ Three of them Apparated away immediately, leaving Kreacher, the last non-human in the room.

‘Albus would have loved this ceremony,’ Minerva McGonagall whispered into Harry’s ear after the house-elves’ abrupt departure. ‘Look at the Wizengamot. They don’t know what will happen next.’

The awards continued. Many combatants received the Order of Merlin, third class, including the majority of Dumbledore’s Army. Dennis Creevey accepted his brother’s medal; he was crying when he returned to his parents. Dennis was not the only sibling or parent collecting a posthumous medal, and if not for Ginny’s comforting arm around his waist, Harry would have lost himself in grief.

Fewer people received the Order of Merlin, second class. Harry and Ginny looked after Teddy Lupin while Andromeda Tonks collected Remus and Nymphadora Lupin’s medals. There were a few mutterings when Lupin’s name was read out and Harry tried to identify the werewolf-haters. Some seemed to be Ministry officials.

‘We’ve still got a lot to do, Harry,’ Hermione whispered, and when the next name was read out. Dobby’s medal had proved an even harder fight for Harry than had Lupin’s. Harry watched Hermione turn her head away from the dais and scrutinise the audience carefully, watching for those showing displeasure. Dobby’s medal was collected by Kreacher, who bowed to Harry, and vanished.

The Weasleys, all but Ron, were the last to receive the Order of Merlin, second class. Harry paid little attention to Mr and Mrs Weasley, Bill, Fleur and the others. His attention was fixed on the youngest member of the family.

He watched Ginny in dumbstruck admiration. Her green dress shone, and it hugged her flawless figure precisely. The emeralds in the silver torc matched the dress perfectly. She was beautiful, and the photographers seemed to be concentrating on her.

She’d bought the dress before she’d known about the torc, he realised, so she’d bought it to match his eyes. His sudden insight made his heart beat even faster.

‘Your turn now, Harry,’ Ginny said to Harry as she returned to his side and pulled him from his fantasies.

The master of ceremonies cleared his throat.

‘Finally, it is time to award the Highest Award, the Order of Merlin First Class to the four young people who destroyed those cursed items which tied Tom Marvolo Riddle, the self-styled Lord Voldemort to life: Miss Hermione Granger, Mr Neville Longbottom, Mr Ronald Weasley and, of course, Mr Harry Potter.’

To huge cheers Neville and Harry followed Hermione and Ron onto the stage. Hermione looked as though she was about to enter an exam. She was pale and nervous and gripped Ron’s arm tightly, but he didn’t seem to mind. After the final medals were awarded Kingsley Shacklebolt stepped forwards and motioned for silence.

‘Ladies and Gentlemen, we have had speeches and congratulations aplenty since the Battle, but let us not forget those who fell in this fight. Many of the medals awarded here have been awarded posthumously. I ask that you join me for two minutes of contemplative silence. Let us remember the fallen.’

A hush fell across the hall as everyone bowed their heads. Harry once again remembered Fred, Lupin, Tonks, Dobby, Colin and the other victims of war.



‘The world has not ended. It continues to turn, and we who live must make sure that the sacrifice of the dead is not forgotten. They fought for a brighter future, and we must honour them by delivering it,’ Kingsley announced after the silence.

‘Now, as Harry Potter said earlier, we must look ahead, not back. This banquet and ball is our first real step into the future. This hall contains heroes and politicians, bureaucrats and businessmen, let us all work together to build a better future. Now, if you will find your seats, the banquet can begin,’ Kingsley concluded.

Ginny grabbed Harry’s hand and they moved towards their seats.
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