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SIYE Time:11:16 on 29th March 2024
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undercover
By lazyweekendmornings

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Category: Post-Hogwarts
Characters:None
Genres: Action/Adventure, Comedy
Warnings: None
Story is Complete
Rating: PG-13
Reviews: 37
Summary: A secret handshake, a series of imposter attacks, and a potential security threat. This can all only mean one thing: Harry, Ginny, and baby James need to go undercover.
Hitcount: Story Total: 13434; Chapter Total: 1016
Awards: View Trophy Room




Author's Notes:
here we are! the final chapter! thank you all for being on this fun lil journey with me. i hope you like it! let me know what you think!




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“There’s a problem,” Harry says as he walks into their bedroom. Jamie’s asleep in his bassinet by the bed, and the sun is just starting to set, bathing the sky in a blur of pink and orange and red.

Ginny looks up at him. “Is the problem that our son is refusing to walk, even though I know that he can do it?”

A slow smile spreads onto Harry’s face. “He’s only one and a half, Gin, he’ll walk when he’s ready.”

“No, I think he practices in private,” Ginny says.

Harry rolls his eyes, and then walks up to her. He’s holding two cups of tea, and Ginny gives him a grateful smile as she accepts hers.

“What’s the problem?” she asks him.

“Luna invited both of us to the Leaky Cauldron on Friday,” Harry points out. “And they’re going to send a Death Eater to attack you. And I’m the one who volunteered.”

“Technically, they think Malfoy volunteered,” Ginny says, and then considers it. “No, but I know what you mean. You can’t attack me if you’re with me.”

“No. And I don’t think I can disguise myself as someone else if I’m already disguised as Malfoy,” Harry says, and sits down next to Ginny.

Ginny wrinkles her nose. “All of this is starting to confuse me,” she says.

“We’ll have to see what Malfoy says. What the Death Eaters think the plan is,” Harry says.

“I don’t see why you can’t just arrest the lot of them now and be done with it,” Ginny says, resting her head down on Harry’s sturdy shoulder.

“Well, we don’t know for sure that they’re the ones who did it, for one,” Harry says, “and we’re not sure who’s doing it. We only know a few of them. A few of them kept their hoods on at the meeting.”

Ginny groans. “I hate this,” she mumbles.

It’s all beginning to wear on her; Harry can tell, and he absolutely can’t blame her for it. They’ve been undercover, been to Death Eater meetings — well, just the one, but it was quite significant — and Harry hates this. The last thing they need now, when they’re going to have another baby, is this sort of stress. And the fact that it’s coming from someone they know well enough to get into their house, to know how to target their friends, to attack Hermione…

“It’ll be over soon,” he says, because he’ll make sure it will be. He’ll do whatever it takes.

“Yeah?” Ginny says. She sounds wistful. “And then we can return to our lives…”

“Go back outside without being worried,” Harry says.

“You’ll always be a little worried.”

“A little bit,” Harry agrees fairly.

“You know what I’m looking forward to? Getting to go back inside our own home,” Ginny adds.

“Yeah,” Harry says, and then pauses.

Inside.

Insi de.

“What is it?” Ginny says, because she knows him well enough to know what his expression means.

Harry shakes his head. He doesn’t know how to articulate what just occurred to him. He sits on the edge of the bed, taking a deep breath. His thoughts are racing a mile a minute, and Ginny’s voice sounds like it’s coming from far away.

It has to be… if it’s the Death Eaters — which they know it is, or that they’re involved, anyway — then there’s no other option. The only possible thing is something they didn’t consider. Something they were stupid to not look into. It can’t be anything else…

His thoughts are interrupted by a knock at the door, and he jumps, reaching out for his wand immediately. The doorbell goes off right after the knock, and it wakes up Jamie, who starts to fuss and cry in his bassinet.

“That’ll be them,” Ginny says.  

This morning, they’d written to Ron, Hermione, and George, telling them the plan for Friday and asking them to come over for dinner to discuss it further.

“You can tell all of us what just occurred to you. Save us some time,” Ginny says. “I’ll go get the door. You deal with Jamie. I’ll see you in a minute.” She gets to her feet, taking the last sip of her tea and brushing off her pyjamas before making her way downstairs.

Harry, still half in a trance, gets Jamie and holds him close, feeling dizzy from how fast his mind is going.

*

By the time Harry comes downstairs, the other four are at the dining table, and Ginny’s in the middle of filling them in.

“And we know it’s not Luna, because she’s abroad. So it’s definitely someone from the Death Eaters’ little group,” she says. “So I’m going on Friday.”

“But we don’t have that much more to go on than we did before,” Hermione says. “And you’re pregnant, Ginny. What if you get really badly hurt?”

“They haven’t badly hurt anyone yet,” Ginny says. Her jaw is set in stubbornness, and Harry feels a sudden rush of fondness for her, even if he does agree with Hermione.

“Yes, you know Death Eaters. Always so unwilling to hurt anyone too badly,” George says.

“Well, it’s the only way we’ll find out who’s actually been doing all of this, the only way we’ll get proof!” Ginny says.

Harry holds Jamie a bit tighter in his arms, and then meets Ron’s gaze. They both haven’t talked, not since what Ron almost told him outside Malfoy’s. He knows what Ron almost told him. And he knows that Ron knows, too. He isn’t ready to have that conversation yet, though.

Ron meets his eyes, and then sits up, frowning. “You know something,” he says. It’s not a question. “Something you’re not telling us.”

The others look at him at Ron’s words, Hermione with her brows furrowed and George with his eyebrows raised.

“The Death Eaters,” Harry says quietly. “The ones who escaped Azkaban or who were never apprehended or who finished their jail terms and got out on good behaviour, the ones who I saw at the meeting. The Department of Magical Law Enforcement keeps track of them.”

“Not just the Department,” Hermione says pointedly.

Harry thinks about the Tracking charm, and nods. “Not just the Department,” he says.

Hermione frowns, but she doesn’t tell him off again for it. Harry counts that as a victory, all things considered.

“So what if the Ministry keeps track of them?” George says. “They haven’t arrested them yet, which is how they’re still out here plotting their bastardly plans, right? No offence, mate,” he says.

“No,” Harry says, a bit frustrated that no one’s understanding what he’s trying to get at. “No, what I mean is. The imposter that we got. The one who was, you know, pretending to me. They got out, right? Escaped?”

“Yeah,” Ron and George say at the same time.

“And they got into our house, too. Flooed to the Ministry from there,” he says, gesturing to him and Ginny. “But our house is warded. No one can get in from the outside unless we want them to. Not even most people at the Ministry. It’s only connected to the Auror department, they’re the only ones who have access to it.”

Hermione’s frown grows deeper. “Yes, but… Someone infiltrated it, which is why you’re even in hiding, right?”

“What if it wasn’t an infiltration?” Harry says. “And what if it wasn’t a coincidence that the imposter got free? What if the same person who let the imposter escape was the same person who gave them access to the Floo that got them into our place? And what If it wasn’t a coincidence that the Death Eaters knew the location of our hideout, enough to use the Trace against us? The Trace gets reported to the Ministry. They would’ve known, the second Hermione got attacked.”

“But… that would mean…” Hermione whispers.

“It mean it’d be someone at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement,” Harry says. “Someone we know. Someone Ron and I work with. It means–”

“That it’s an inside job,” Ron completes.

Harry nods grimly. “Which means we’ve got work to do.”

*

An hour later, Ron and Harry are at the Ministry, at the Department of Magical Law Office. More specifically, at the tiny breakroom in the Auror Office. It’s just about big enough for a kettle, a table, and a few chairs.

“I wouldn’t do it if you didn’t want me to, you know,” Ron says.

It’s been silent for the last few minutes, but Harry knows exactly what Ron’s talking about. He looks up from the Floo logs he’s been pouring over. “Yeah?” he says.

Ron nods. “Yeah.”

Harry wants to say then don’t. He wants to say why do you want to leave, how am I meant to be an Auror without you by my side. He doesn’t say any of that, though. He owes it to Ron to be nice about this, as much as he can, despite how disappointed he feels. “Why do you want to?” he asks instead.

There’s a soft thump as Ron sets the heavy file he’s pouring through down. He picks up another, opens it and takes out a piece of parchment, and then says, “There’s going to be a baby,” he finally says. “I’m terrified, mate. Didn’t you feel it, when you first found out about Jamie? It’s not exactly a safe job, what we do.”

Harry thinks about it. He supposes Ron’s right, but… “It worked the other way for me,” he says. “When I found out about Jamie. I wanted to make sure I was doing everything I could to make sure no one ever hurt my family.”

Ron nods, and looks back down at his file.

“I think I get it, though,” Harry admits. “I mean, we have been in a lot of danger the past couple of months.”

“I think it’s more the last few years, really,” Ron says. “Last fifteen years, more or less.”

Harry nods. That’s a fair point. “What will you do, then?” he asks.

Ron’s casual manner is affected, nonchalant to the point of self-consciousness. “George asked me to run the shop with him.”

“Seriously?” Harry says, shocked.

“Yeah. We’ve been working on a couple of things together. A new idea for a wizard’s chess set, things like that. And I don’t think he likes to handle it alone. He’s used to a partner, isn’t he?” Ron says. “Besides, things at the shop will be a bit… calmer.”

“I wouldn’t count on it being that calm,” Harry says, thinking of the countless displays of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes firecrackers he’s seen.

Ron shrugs. “Well, reckon I’d get bored otherwise,” he says. “You’ve got me used to a life of excitement.”

“I think having a baby will be enough excitement for a while,” Harry says.

Ron’s eyes light up. “Are you joking? It’s the most bloody exciting thing that’s ever happened.”

Harry smiles.

Ron looks back down at his file, and then widens his eyes. “Wait. Harry, look at this.” He passes the parchment to Harry that he’d been looking at.

Harry looks at it: it’s a list of names, titled in Padma Patil’s neat hand: New Recruits to the Auror Department.

“Is this from this year?” he asks.

Ron nods. “They just joined the department this year. Graduated Auror training.”

It’s a small list, only ten or so names. Harry reads it through, frowning.

“Look at the last name,” Ron prompts him.

“Peter Thicknesse,” Harry reads out, and then widens his eyes. “Wait. Is his father–”

“Minister for Magic under the Imperius Curse during the war? Yeah. That’s him,” Ron says grimly, all traces of a smile gone.

“But he was let off, wasn’t he?” Harry says. “No prison time or anything,”

“Because of the Imperius, yeah,” Ron agrees. “But it’s the only suspicious name. The only name connected to the Death Eaters at all. But he should be grateful, shouldn’t he? His dad didn’t have to go to Azkaban. All charges were dismissed against him.”

“But…” Harry leans back in his chair. “He didn’t get a job after, did he?”

“Well, who’d want to hire him?” Ron grumbles.

Harry frowns. Thinks about who was attacked. Neville. Seamus. Hermione. Ginny’s planned for next. All in public. All where someone can see. He opens his mouth, but before he can say anything, the door of the break room opens with a bang.

Harry and Ron turn around in unison, wands drawn, and Harry frowns when he sees who it is. Pius Thicknesse, his long black hair liberally stroked with grey and a scowl on his face, brandishes his wand at them. “Hands up, both of you,” he says. All traces of the calm, Imperiused Minister from the war have vanished.

Harry turns and glances at Ron, who inclines his head slightly. May as well. Harry sets his wand down on the table, raises his hands up and rests them on the back of his head. He sees Ron’s hand, from the corner of his eye, twitch near his pocket before Ron raises his hands as well.

“I knew it,” Pius says, a politician’s smirk on his face. “I knew I’d get you both soon enough.”

*

“Maybe we shouldn’t have let them go to the Ministry alone,” Hermione says. She’s pacing the small living room of the safehouse. All around her, there are pieces of parchment levitating in the air, things they’ve been able to put together, all of Hermione’s notes, some case files. She’s been studying them in between bouts of worry.

“They’ll be fine, Hermione,” George says confidently. Ginny wishes she felt as confident. “Besides, someone had to stay with Jamie, didn’t they?”

Ginny looks down at Jamie in her arms, curled up in her lap with his head resting against her chest. She thinks she’d be going insane without the soft weight of her baby in her arms, the sound of his deep, rhythmic breathing. Well. She might be going insane anyway.

“Do you think Harry’s right? Do you think it’s an inside job?” she asks.

“It has to be. Nothing else makes sense,” Hermione says, sighing in frustration. “But what sort of person at the Ministry would leak information to the Death Eaters?”

Ginny turns to look at George. They exchange an incredulous look.

“Hermione, I don’t think the Ministry is as free of corruption as you think it is,” Ginny says.

“Well… yes, I know, but I thought we were getting better. I thought we were part of the solution, not the problem,” Hermione says.

“I think it’s both,” George says. “The Ministry’s big. Plenty of space for corrupt fuckers.”

Hermione doesn’t answer them but continues to pace through the living room, all the way to the kitchen. And then, suddenly, she gasps.

Ginny and George get up at once, Ginny holding Jamie with one arm so she can take out her wand. “What is it?” Ginny says.

“Ginny! George! Come here!” Hermione calls out. She doesn’t sound fearful, so Ginny relaxes minutely as she follows George out to the kitchen.

The kitchen looks the same as always, except for the fact that a pulsing blue-white orb of light is hanging in the middle, suspended in nothingness. It reminds Ginny of the light coming from the Portkey, and it seems to have no source.

“What the bloody hell is that?” Ginny says.

“A curse of some kind, maybe,” George says, looking far more serious than he has in the recent past.

“Does that mean–did the Death Eaters send some sort of curse–how did they know where to find us?” Ginny demands. She looks at Hermione, because Hermione always has the answer.

To her amazement, Hermione doesn’t look scared. Or anxious, or nervous, or anything. She’s smiling. “The Deluminator,” she whispers, an aside to herself that Ginny doesn’t understand. What does the Deluminator possibly have to do with this? How is it connected?

Hermione looks at Ginny then. “Do you trust me?” she asks.

Ginny doesn’t have to hesitate, not for a single second. “Of course,” she says.

Hermione looks relieved. “Good. George, you’ll take care of Jamie, right?” she asks.

“Why, where are you two off to?” George asks, but he takes a sleeping Jamie from Ginny.

“We’re going to find Ron and Harry. They’re in danger,” Hermione says. “Trust me.”  She takes Ginny’s hand then. “We’re going to have to Apparate. Keep your wand at the ready,” she says.

Ginny doesn’t have a chance to resist before Hermione takes her to the front door. The orb of light follows them and then — remarkably — floats towards Hermione.

“I have no idea what the fuck is happening,” Ginny whispers.

“Keep your wand at the ready,” Hermione repeats. The light floats towards Hermione’s chest and then somehow seems to dissolve into her, vanishing completely. Hermione closes her eyes, redoubles her grip on Ginny’s hand, and Disapparates.

*

“What do you hope to get out of this, Thicknesse?” Harry asks. Both their hands are still up, but he doesn’t make any move to stand up or grab his wand.

“You took everything from me,” Thicknesse says. “I had a career. I was the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement!”

Harry glances at Ron. Ron rolls his eyes, but Thicknesse doesn’t seem to notice, thankfully. Keep him talking, Harry mouths to him, and Ron nods minutely.

“And then I was the Minister,” Thicknesse continues.

Harry’s never been more grateful than now that Pius Thicknesse seems to love the sound of his voice. It buys them some time.

“You were the Minister because Voldemort and his Death Eaters Imperiused you,” Ron says.

“But I was a loyal Ministry man before that,” Thicknesse says. “And I threw off the Imperius attempts at first. And I wasn’t Imperiused before that, when I was named the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.”

“Which is why you weren’t arrested, once the curse was off you,” Harry says.

“But not being arrested isn’t enough,” Thicknesse says. There’s an ugliness to him, an ambition in his eyes that repulses Harry. “No one wants to hire anyone who isn’t associated to Harry Potter. I lost everything I had.”

It clicks, then. “So you thought you’d make it seem like we were turning on each other?” Harry says.

Thicknesse sneers. “Lucky that I knew how to get in touch with the Death Eaters. My daughter knows Avery’s daughter, at school. They believed me, when I said I was on their side. And my son–”

“He gave you access to the Auror department,” Ron says.

“He did. Access to the Floo at your house, too. And when he told me about the Fidelius, he couldn’t tell me where it was, but he knew enough to know the village.”

“Snooped in Kingsley’s office, did he?” Ron says.

“Maybe the Minister should be more careful about safeguarding his things,” Thicknesse says. “When I was Minister–”

“You know, the records don’t reflect that,” Harry says. He’s starting to lose temper now.

“What do you mean?” Thicknesse says, faltering.

“The records don’t reflect that you were ever Minister. It wasn’t legitimate. You were nothing more than Voldemort’s puppet there,” Harry says.

There’s a tiny pop in the distance, but Thicknesse doesn’t notice. “It will be legitimate now,” he growls. “When everyone sees that all of Potter’s comrades are turning on each other, attacking each other in public, their faith in you, in the Ministry, will weaken. And then–”

“And then what? A new government, with you and your Death Eater pals?” Ron says.

“The Death Eaters were only ever a means to an end. Although they were far more sympathetic, so I’ll bear that in mind when I’m Minister,” Thicknesse says.

“So. Just to be clear,” Harry says. “You infiltrated the Death Eaters. Planned out all these imposter attacks. All to get some sort of political power at the Ministry? All to be the next Minister for Magic?”

“I knew you wouldn’t suspect me,” Thicknesse says. “I knew you’d be blind in your prejudice against the Death Eaters.”

“Prejudice?” Harry repeats, incredulous.

“I knew you wouldn’t know,” Thicknesse says, “that I was behind it all.”

And then several things happen seem to happen all at once:

The door to the break room, squeaking, slowly opens.

Thicknesse turns his chest to look at it.

Harry and Ron grab their wands, jump to their feet, and, in unision, say, “Stupefy!”

Thicknesse, caught unaware by two Stunning spells to the chest, falls to the ground.

And then Hermione and Ginny step in through the open door.

“Is that–Pius Thicknesse?” Hermione says incredulously.

“He was behind all of it,” Ron says. “Him and his son. All of it.”

“Everything?” Ginny asks weakly.

“Everything,” Harry confirms, stepping towards her. “The attacks, the Death Eater meeting… all of it.”

“Why?” Hermione whispers.

“He wanted to be Minister again. Pissed off that no one hired him. Merlin knows why he thought it’d work,” Ron says, shaking his head.

Ginny surveys Thicknesse, lying Stunned on the ground, and Ron, the tips of his ears red with anger, before finally fixing her gaze on Harry. “I can’t believe,” she says, “that we missed all the action.”

“It was so clever of you, Ron, using the Deluminator to get us here,” Hermione says.

Ron looks pleased.

“I’m going to send a Patronus to Kingsley and Robards,” Harry says. “Tell them we’ve cracked the case.”

Ginny looks at him, radiant as she smiles. “And then what?”

“And then,” Harry says, leaning down to kiss her, “we go home.”

 

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