After the meeting with Kingsley Shacklebolt, Harry headed directly to the Auror department, hoping to discuss with Ron the possibility of his best mate holding fort for a while. Harry was a bit apprehensive about leaving Ron. Ever since Ron joined him in the Auror department, the two of them have partnered together for every case they had worked on. But he couldn't bring Ron with him either; it would seriously cripple the department. So he would have to sound his bestfriends out on the idea before he made a decision.
When he reached the Auror department at the second level, Harry stopped by the bank of secretaries to talk to his and Ron's main go-to secretary at the department.
"Good morning, Liede, has Ron come in yet?" he asked the middle-aged witch. When Harry had left Grimmauld place earlier that morning, the two were still asleep.
The secretary who, despite her long black hair she kept perpetually in a tight bun and a large and square body, somehow reminded Harry of Mrs. Weasley, shook her head negative, an amused look on her face. Harry inwardly groaned. Here we go.
"Hello, Mr. Potter. Sorry, but Mr. Weasley Flooed in to say that he won't be coming in today and neither would Ms. Granger. And he asked to inform you that they'll be Shielded for the remainder of the week, so, no Patronus. Guess they'll be incommunicado for a while."
A buzz of snickering rippled from the department employees who had heard their exchange but Harry kept his face impassive. He simply nodded his thanks to Liede, turned his back, and walked towards his office, his back ramrod straight. The snickering behind him broke out into open laughter, yet Harry gave no indication that he had heard. It was only when he reached the privacy of his own space and sank down in his chair did he allow his shoulders to slump in exasperation.
Won't these people ever grow up? he thought, rubbing his face.
Soon after the war, there had been a frenzied demand to dig up as much information on Harry as possible. Failing that, wizard reporters then turned their attention to those closest to him – even digging up a list of witches Bill had gone out with, to Fleur's endless vexation. Most unfortunately, his two best friends had chosen this time to act up, lately entertaining the wizarding world with their antics. And the wizarding paparazzi zeroed in on his two friends like buzzards to a corpse.
After their return from Australia with Hermione's parents, it became obvious to Harry that the two had become intimate. At that time, Harry was in the middle of renovating Grimmauld Place so the three of them could live there comfortably. The few nights Hermione was able to steal time away to stay at Grimmauld's, Ron would conveniently stay the night as well. Harry was not a dense man and realized immediately what was happening although, it had to be said, Kreacher made it certain that Harry knew everything that went on in his master's own house. Harry was not at all surprised, not even at how quickly it happened. Neither did he resent it, but had in fact been happy for his two friends. His only concern at that time was for him not to be treated to intimate shows by his two closest friends because that would just be too gross.
The first year had not been a problem since Hermione spent most of that year back in Hogwarts finishing her studies. But soon after Ron and Hermione joined Harry at the Ministry, something snapped and the two started shedding their inhibitions. Harry could only ascribe it to the pressures of their jobs, especially in Hermione's case, who had applied to her work the same intensity and fervor she had applied to her studies.
First came whispers of the two getting caught in the Ministry's broom cupboards, in the loos, in Hermione's office, etc. etc. But they were only whispers, for no one - no one - in the Wizarding world would have dared report the two to the higher-ups or give them a reprimand. No one, that is, except Harry. But by that time everyone in the wizarding world was already wise to Harry's rather forgiving nature: far be it from him to have given his friends a brush down. Unfortunately, the lack of admonishment seemed to have spurred the two even further. Suddenly the British wizarding world was treated to newspaper stories and pictures of the two getting caught in rather compromising positions in various places, mostly in the Muggle world. The two probably thought that no one would recognize them there and consequently had been more careless.
But Harry knew for a fact that Ron was not solely to blame for these high jinks. He was quite certain that with her familiarity with the Muggle world, Hermione was equally to blame for instigating these numerous "disappearing acts". And Harry could only reminisce with wistful nostalgia of the prim and proper lady he knew Hermione once were; while Ron, following in the footsteps of his father, Arthur, had obviously discovered the joys the Muggle world had to offer, albeit in a totally non-innocent way.
Nevertheless, their antics had become quite legendary. The most infamous of which was when a Muggle couple caught them doing the deed in broad daylight right up a tree in the middle of Hyde Park. The Muggles, who happened to be retired university professors, claimed they had been taking a leisurely stroll along the park when they heard moaning and someone crying out "My knee! My knee!" Thinking someone had been hurt, they immediately turned towards the direction of where they thought the sounds were coming from, which was a nearby tree. Looking up, they saw two people naked from the waist up, having a go at each other quite oblivious to their surroundings. The Muggles couldn't see the faces of the amorous couple but both agreed that the boy (for they hardly looked older than twenty) had red hair but all they could see of the girl was her bushy brown hair. The Muggles also claimed that, somehow, they could see nothing of the strangers' bodies from the waist down, only some sort of shimmering light as if sunlight was passing through the leaves and branches of the tree - which they thought rather strange. The elderly couple were shocked beyond belief: never had they imagined that they would be witness to such a spectacle, and at their age! They were so shocked that they hurriedly left the area and promptly ran into a park security personnel. When they narrated what had happened, the park personnel headed off back to the tree to investigate but failed to find anything. By that time, the to-do had attracted quite a crowd and that was how a Muggle tabloid reporter picked up the story. Naturally, it didn't take long for the Wizarding papers to pick up and print the story. And given what had been printed in the papers, the story was too plausible to be disbelieved, and soon it became the butt of jokes in the wizarding world.
One could only imagine the scandalous upshot of this escapade. Wizards everywhere started referring to the Magical Law Enforcement department as Smutten Row. At work, Ron suffered no small amount of ribbing from acquaintances and colleagues. Muggleborns were heard either singing or whistling the nursery song "On my knees, and at my side, then behind me they will hide…." which anthem the purebloods quickly adopted. Hermione, on the other hand, was too professionally competent for anyone to try and say anything within hearing distance of her. Besides, her knowledge of jinxes and hexes was so encyclopedic that when it came to hexes, what Harry was to power, Hermione was to variety and obscurity – and it often took months or even years, if at all, to find the countercharms for them (people still swore that they could spell a word on Marietta Edgecombe's face). Molly, understandably, quite lost her rags for their "irresponsible and scandalous behavior", for "bringing shame to the family". Though Ron could not be too naffed about it since behind his Mum's back, all his brothers were arrayed giving him encouraging nods, approving grins, and vigorous thumbs up signs – except, of course, Percy who stood blankly staring into space, his face as red as his hair. Ron was to confess later that he felt quite proud, actually, seeing as how his brothers seemed to be more impressed with him over the entire affair. All the Weasley brothers later admitted that it was actually another feather to the Weasley wizards' hat, that they didn't think Ron had it in him and it could very well rival the twins' departure from Hogwarts their last year.
Harry himself, when he confronted the couple back at Grimmauld Place, made quite a show of justified indignation – complete with emphatic finger-pointing and exaggerated gesticulations. But the two remained completely unperturbed and unrepentant. And when Harry noticed the fond look on Hermione's face as she looked at the Invisibility Cloak Harry was waving in front of their noses, his eyes narrowed and he quickly snatched it behind his back away from her view. He was rather suspicious of that look. He didn't like that look. No, sir, not at all. Then he noticed Ron who sat back grinning up at him, a hand idly tracing circles behind Hermione's back and Harry finally realized that he was never going to make any headway with these two and he promptly turned his back to them and marched up the stairs back to his room. As he was about to pass through the doorway of the room, he cast one last annoyed look at the pair only to find them mauling each other's lips once again. Harry promptly Disapparated back to his room, not wishing for any further assault on his sanity.
But when he reached the confines of his bedroom, Harry allowed himself a small smile. Truth be told, he actually found the incident quite funny. He, most of all, knew what it took for the three of them to have made it this far, to have been given a chance for happiness. He was happy for his best friends, that they had both found this happiness and with each other. Nevertheless, it did not stop him from rising very early the next morning and making a quick Floo to Hogwarts where Prof. Minerva McGonagall was still Headmistress. Then soon after he had had his breakfast, Harry Apparated to the castle.
McGonagall greeted him warmly enough but Harry couldn't help but notice how her eyes seemed to be brighter than usual and how she seemed to be struggling to keep a straight face. Harry chose to act as if he had not noticed anything and instead thanked his former teacher for accommodating his request despite giving such short notice. But as he was about to climb up the stairs, he saw, out of the corner of his eye, the Fat Lady's best friend, Violet, slipping off one of the paintings in the Entrance Hallway and he felt a sudden sense of foreboding. He thus proceeded to the upper floors with great trepidation. True enough, when he reached the third floor….
"Harry Potter!"
Harry slowly turned his head. Oh, no. On a painting depicting a medieval woman hanging her laundry, someone was struggling to untangle himself from a white sheet but Harry thought he recognized the squat body of that mad knight Sir Cadogan. Harry quickly turned around, speeding up his footsteps and almost breaking into a run in an effort to get out of there as quickly as possible but the mad knight was finally able to extricate himself and hurried after Harry, clanking along in his suit of armor through a series of paintings.
"Harry Potter! Harry Potter! I must speak to you, sire!"
"No, you don't," Harry mumbled to himself.
"Where is thy friend, that knave, that rapscallion Ronald Weasley? I demand satisfaction, sire! He has besmirched the honor of the Lady Granger! And it cannot be borne! I shall not allow it!"
Harry could not be bothered enough to reply but Sir Cadogan continued to dog his heels.
"He has taken undue advantage of the innocence, the naiveté (Harry snorted) of a Muggleborn lady who has no wizard relations to champion her! But I, I shall take up the cudgels for her! I will uphold her honor! I, Sir Cadogan….."
But the mad knight had blessedly run out of steam. He finally stopped running after Harry and now stood doubled-over, panting, his hands planted on his knees.
"I…cha…I…challenge…him…to..a..d-duel..to..the..d-death - " he wheezed down to the soft clod of earth upon which he was standing.
Harry breathed a sigh of relief and the moment he reached a trusted shortcut behind a tapestry, quickly ducked behind it and Disillusioned himself. Thereafter he made his way to the Headmaster's office without being further accosted.
But if he had thought that his troubles were over, he soon found out he had another think coming.
The next half-hour was one of the most humiliating experiences of Harry's life although technically, he was alone. Here he was, vanquisher of the most powerful Dark Wizard of all time and only known survivor of the Killing Curse – twice - consulting with Dumbledore's portrait on how best to clean the venerated family heirloom. Snape's portrait walked out in disgust when he realized for what reason Harry was there, but Dumbledore's portrait's eyes twinkled like mad. A ripple of guffaws and choked-back laughter (and, was that honking?) broke out all around him. But Harry soldiered on, consulting with Dumbledore as if they were talking about the deepest, most profound aspects of magic. He didn't know exactly how old Ignotus Peverell's bequest was, but it was at least a thousand years old, older than Hogwarts, in fact. And he was determined to care for it for his future descendants (should he be lucky enough to have any) as his forebears did.
After he and Kreacher had both cleaned his Invisibility cloak per Dumbledore's instructions, he hid it so that only he could ever have access to it. But he still carried it during his and Ron's missions, not because he needed to, having mastered the Disillusionment Charm as expertly, if not more so, than Professor Dumbledore. The truth was, he always carried it more for Ron's sake than his own. The nature of their jobs was such that they couldn't afford to be complacent. He knew only too well that the moment they were, the consequences would be more than Harry was ever willing to pay. But he would only let Ron borrow it during missions then Harry would promptly retrieve it the moment they returned to the office for debriefing.
For a structure situated deep in the London underground, Harry's office was remarkably bright and airy. Ever since the day he was promoted almost a year and a half ago to Senior Auror status - the youngest ever to be given such a distinction in the entire history of the department - and given this office, there had never been a cloudy day in this room, no matter how foul the weather had been out in the real world. In fact, birds and owls were even seen outside Harry's windows. Undoubtedly it was the work of Reggie Cattermole and some of his colleagues from the Department of Maintenance, as the same had been done to Hermione's office, in gratitude for the trio having saved him and his family, along with a number of others, from persecution (and quite possibly death) from Voldemort's puppet government.
Looking around Harry's small office, which he had volunteered to share with Ron, one would be hard put to think that it belonged to the great Harry Potter, indubitably, one of the world's most powerful wizards, if not the most. The room was, well - there was no other word for it - spare. There were just Harry's and Ron's desks, a large bookshelf and cabinet along one side of the wall, and a couple of chairs for visitors. It was a room completely devoid of any type of ornamentation except for a Snitch – the first one he had ever caught playing for Gryffindor - set upon wood. There were, however, quite a number of personal photographs: his parents and their friends Sirius and Remus; several of Harry, Ron and Hermione (a couple of which dating back to their first year at Hogwarts), Dumbledore, the entire Weasley family (yes, including Percy), Hagrid, his godson Teddy with his grandmother Andromeda, the Aurors Tonks and Mad-Eye Moody, Luna, Neville, McGonagall – in fact, everyone who had ever meant anything to him. However, there were no sign of the numerous plaques and awards that he had received in recognition of his achievements, not just from when he had defeated Voldemort, but even after. Only his certificate of graduation from the Auror Academy graced his walls.
He looked at his watch. There was still plenty of time before Ginny's game this afternoon, though whenever he was able to attend any of Ginny's game, he always made sure to arrive about an hour and a half before game time to sweep the area. He wondered what to do with his remaining time; admittedly, it had been a slow week for Aurors so he couldn't really blame Ron and Hermione for taking out a bit of time off.
He tried not to think about seeing Ginny again after all these months. He did not want to keep his hopes up that this time he would finally catch Ginny in-between boyfriends. There was no way for him to know if she were: Ron and Hermione were too caught up with each other to talk about anything else other than work or Harry and he couldn't ask any of the family either because he was afraid it would give him too much away. Otherwise, he would have to leave the game as soon as it ended because he did not want to go through again watching Ginny with another guy while his heart was breaking. That would just set him off to another episode of dating women he knew he could never really care for as deeply, or need as much, as he did Ginny. After five years, that game had become rather old.
Harry took a deep breath. He did not know how it had gotten to this. When he first realized his true feelings for Ginny back in his sixth year he couldn't do anything about it: she was still with Dean and there was still the threat of Voldemort looming upon all their heads. He thought it was the right thing to do, keeping his feelings for her hidden. After Sirius, he didn't think he could risk Voldemort knowing he cared for anyone the way he did for Ginny. That would be tantamount to setting a rabid bloodhound on a fox, a fox with Ginny's red hair.
Then the Battle of Hogwarts happened and Fred died. Harry felt he would be too much of a cad if he made any moves on her so soon after her brother died. He just couldn't do it. Then Ron and Hermione left for Australia, George went back to Diagon Alley to fix the store and live in his and Fred's flat above it once again. Percy, too, left the Burrow back to his place in London, and Charlie to Romania. Harry was thus left alone in the Burrow feeling much the uninvited guest though he knew that the Weasleys did not feel that way about him. Still, he thought he couldn't stay at the Burrow any longer, not when his feelings for Ginny were not exactly elder-brotherly. Besides, he had always planned to fix Grimmauld up for himself, Ron and Hermione to live in together, and, hopefully, to be joined eventually by Ginny.
But Kingsley had made his request for Harry to work at the Ministry, and Harry could not say no when even Mrs. Weasley volunteered to help in finding all the Muggleborns that had gone missing during the war or help care for those who were injured or commiserate with those who had equally lost a loved one. Next thing he knew, it was September the first and Ginny was off back to Hogwarts to the arms of some faceless boy who became boyfriend Number three. Since then, Harry had not found the opportunity to even let her know how he truly felt for her. Careers - both his and hers - and the tendency for them both to be dating another the few times they met had only served to keep them apart. But, still, Harry had not lost hope. If he could survive two killing curses….
He drew a sigh, he still had several hours to kill before Ginny's game at three in the afternoon. He decided to do some research on the Teumessian fox and the other issues discussed in the meeting for the meantime but then he heard voices from outside his office and he rather thought he heard his name mentioned.
He stood up and opened the door to his office. From his standpoint by the doorway he could very well see above the cubicles of the other department employees. On the far side of the room where the Floo places were located, a Floo operator sat twisted round her chair arguing with someone over the fireplace.
"Potter!"
Howard Donaghy, another Auror ten years Harry's senior came striding up to him. Harry liked him: he was one of those who answered Professor Slughorn's call for help in the Battle of Hogwarts.
"I was just on my way to your office," he said, slowing down to a stop in front of Harry. "We have another cacker."
Ah, another one of those, Harry thought. Ever since he joined the Auror department as a full-fledged Auror, wizarding Britain seemed to think that Harry was there to cater to their every need, no matter how petty those needs might be. Often, the Auror department would receive Floos demanding that Harry be sent (even while he was still in training) for a disturbance only for the responding team to learn that it was nothing more than a simple altercation between neighbors over a Bouncing Bulb plant that crept over the adjacent property, or something similarly trivial. The Department had grown exasperated telling these people that Aurors were Dark wizard hunters and if dark magic was not involved then they should direct their Floos somewhere else. And neither were they allowed to cherry-pick the Aurors who would respond to their Floos, either. Ron was particularly annoyed with them all and wanted to arrest the lot of them and chuck them to the St. Mungo's Janus Thickey ward.
"Wanted you to come investigate a sudden storm in Soay," Howard went on.
Harry raised his eyebrows. Soay, St. Kilda was an uninhabited islet, one of the westernmost islands in Scotland, way out in the North Atlantic. Inclement weather was a usual occurrence in that area.
"Yeah, can you believe it? Old biddy says it must be giants doing it 'cause that's what happened in West Country back in ninety-six." He rolled his eyes.
"Is anybody gonna take the Floo?" Harry furrowed his brow. There might have been a bit of a lull in their workload but it didn't mean his men have the time to chase after a white rabbit.
"Me and Will," he replied, referring to his partner William Turbitt. "Have to, don't we? Bloody protocol."
"Couldn't you refer her to the MLES? Or even Maintenance?"
"No bloody use. She won't budge, said we're being thrawn," he rolled his eyes. There was a resident Scotsman on the floor and the two Aurors were familiar enough with the term. "She's the one who can't get it into her head that it's not our job to check the weather."
"No, it's not," said Harry.
"Anyway, I have to be back early this afternoon 'cause I promised my children we'll be watching the Kestrel-Harpies game this afternoon. It's the semi-finals, you know."
"I know. I'm watching as well. 'Might see you there."
"If you do, don't say anything to the missus. You guys always try to get me into trouble!" he said.
Harry grinned. Howard was one of the most family-man he knew. "Oh, I don't know," said Harry, "My tongue just might slip."
"If you do, I just might pulp you, chosen one or not," Howard said, grinning back.
"Just be careful," Harry said, all hilarity aside. It was one of the cardinal rules of law enforcement, to never take any operation for granted.
"Always am. You know, wife will kill me and all that if anything should happen to me, swore she'd take up with a warlock who'll turn all our children to frogs," he said smiling.
Across the room, his partner was waving Howard over. He and Harry turned to look at him.
"'Kay. Have to go," Howard said, still looking at his partner. "Be back soon as we can," he then turned his face back to Harry and grinning, said, "Nice outfit by the way," knowing that Harry was wearing his usual all-black get-up.
Harry laughed. "Go on, get out of here, you old geezer."
And the two Aurors left, leaving Harry back to do his research.
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