Chapter Five: The Ministry and The Mission

Now that Harry and Ron had overcome their first obstacle, they were ready to visit Kingsley and sort out Ron’s travelling paperwork. Although Harry knew they had a lot to achieve that afternoon before he got home to Teddy, he suddenly found himself loathe to part company with Ginny.

Neville and Ginny accompanied them down the dingy street past several shabby offices, a pub, and a wall covered with graffitti to the visitor’s entrance to the Ministry of Magic Headquarters. As they approached the broken-down red telephone box, Harry turned and extended his hand to Neville.

“Thanks mate, couldn’t have done it without you!”

“Yeah,” Ron echoed, clapping Neville soundly on the back, “I’ll make sure Hermione knows how much she owes you!”

While Ron’s attention was focused on saying goodbye to Neville, Harry turned his eyes to Ginny.

“And you,” he whispered, smiling cheekily, “are dangerous! Poor goblin didn’t know what’d hit him!”

Ginny returned Harry’s smile, trying not to melt under his gaze. “As if you didn’t already know that I was dangerous,” she whispered back and Harry couldn’t fail to notice the loosely veiled reference to all that had passed between them.

He swallowed heavily, speechless for a moment, before managing to croak out, “Bye Gin,” and accepted her farewell embrace which he noticed with disappointment was no more lingering that the goodbye hug she gave her brother.

Harry squeezed into the phone box with Ron and watched Ginny through the dirty glass as she walked back down the dark lane with Neville. Ron dialled the number – 62442 – and the welcome witch's cool voice sounded all around them.

“Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and business.”

Harry spoke up. “Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, here to see Kingsley Shacklebolt on personal business.”

“Thankyou,” said the voice. “Please take the badges and attach them to the front of your robes.”

Harry and Ron grabbed their square silver badges, hastily attaching them to their shirts and made their way past the only moderately active fire-places to the security desk to submit their wands for registration. Harry noticed with interest that at the current moment, the old location of the fairly inappropriate Fountain of Magical Brethren, so hideously replaced by that frightening representation of anti-Muggle sentiment under Voldemort’s influence, was empty and featureless. He hoped that it would be inhabited by something far more fitting in the near future.

After registering their wands with the perpetually disinterested Eric Munch, they made their way through to the smaller hall to hop into a lift. As Kingsley’s office resided on Level One, the friends had a long ride ahead which was made more entertaining by the odd characters and flocks of memos that travelled with them.

As the golden grille slid back to allow them access to the floor dedicated to the offices of the highest Ministry officials, Harry and Ron caught sight of Arthur Weasley crossing the corridor and entering an office.

The two wizards leapt back into the lift. “I’d nearly completely forgotten about your dad’s promotion, Ron!” Harry whispered as they looked around carefully, trying to determine whether or not Arthur would appear again.

“So had I now that you mention it, though being the new Senior Under-secretary to the Minister accounts for why he’s been getting home so late recently. I hope we’re going to be able to pull this off without him seeing us!” Ron whispered back.

The pair rushed out of the lift, narrowly missing being snared by the closing golden grilles, and sprinted towards Kingsley’s office, a place where both of them, Harry particularly, had spent a fair bit of time in the last few months.

They rushed up to Marjory, Kingsley’s receptionist and tried to conceal themselves behind the large flutterby bush that she kept in a terracotta pot on her desk.

“Er, can I help you, Harry? Ron?” she asked with amusement, “or have you just come to inspect my plant for a Herbology assignment?”

“We need to see Kingsley,” Harry whispered earnestly, “preferably without being spotted by Ron’s dad.”

“Ahh,” Marjory replied laughing, “I see. Well, you can head on in. The front desk informed him of your arrival and he’s cancelled his next meeting just to see you both.”

Harry and Ron looked at her in amazement.

“Well, it was with Dolores Umbridge. Can you believe that woman has the hide to try and get her old job back?” She chuckled mischievously, “I have to say, I think Kingsley quite enjoyed telling her that he couldn’t possibly spare the time for her when such important young wizards as Ronald Weasley and Harry Potter desired to speak with him! Go on through.”

Harry and Ron were greeted warmly by the enormous ex-Auror as they made their way into his plush office and took their seats in the squishy armchairs he motioned them towards.

Stepping out from behind his desk and coming to join them in the remaining chair, Kingsley flicked his wand and summoned three bottles of butterbeer and a plate of little cakes.

“It’s good to see you two! I heard that you’ve already visited Gringotts this morning with Mr Longbottom and Miss Weasley and created a little bit of your customary chaos,” Kingsley rumbled smiling.

“Er, yeah,” Harry replied a little hesitantly, “We thought that it was Gryffindor’s sword that did the trick, though it seemed that you may have laid some groundwork for our arrival.”

Kingsley laughed, “Did I not mention that the goblin community wanted me to lock the three of you in Azkaban for your trouble in saving the world?” Ron looked shocked. “Don’t worry Ron, we can’t have our war heroes locked up. Anyway, the very fact that you got out of Gringotts unscathed this morning suggests that all is well there. Taking the sword was a stroke of diplomatic genius, Harry!”

Harry grinned and Ron tucked into a cake in his relief.

“Anyway, what can I do for you two gents this afternoon?” Kingsley asked pleasantly. “My guess is that it’s something to do with that marvellous Hermione Granger. Am I right?”

“Blimey, mate, they didn’t make you Ministry for Magic for nothing! Is there anything you don’t know?” Ron asked incredulously.

Kingsley’s rich laugh rang out and he clapped Ron vigorously on the back causing him to spray cake crumbs all over Harry. “Ah, my red-headed friend, when it comes to you, I know that Miss Granger cannot be very far out of the picture. All you Weasley men wear your heart on your sleeve.” Ron’s face went bright red and he spluttered quietly.

“If only the young Weasley woman was quite as straight forward, eh Harry?” Kingsley laughed and Harry was reduced to a similar state to Ron.

“Alright Kingsley,” Harry finally managed to get out, “enough torturing us. Let us tell you why we’re here.”

“I’m all ears,” Kingsley replied obsequiously inclining his head slightly and turning his pink palms out towards his young guests.

Harry and Ron launched into the tale of Hermione’s predicament and their plan to send Ron to her family’s rescue. Kingsley listened intently and didn’t speak until he heard the final details of their scheme.

“This is all so well thought through, my friends, but I have also been working on getting an international Portkey approved for the Muggles. I think I’m about a fortnight away from success what with all of this accursed red-tape that I’m in the process of cutting through once and for all.”

Ron looked crestfallen. “Another fortnight?” he asked quietly, more to himself than either of his companions.

“No,” Harry responded decisively. “Kingsley, if we do it our way, Ron and Hermione can be together tomorrow morning and they can all be home within the week. Maybe even home in time for my birthday.”

“He’ll leave here tomorrow morning, but it’ll be night already in Sydney,” Kingsley responded, implying his assent to the plan. “Right, we’ll need to talk to the Portkey Office and the International Muggle-Relation Sector of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.”

He smiled at the two young men in his office.

“Marjory!”

***

At about 8 o’clock the next morning, a sleepy Ron tripped out of the fireplace in Harry’s little flat. He looked up from his position sprawled on the hearth to find his mate on the couch laughing and bouncing a giggling red-headed Teddy on his knee.

“How’re you feeling, mate?” Harry asked, jumping off the couch with Teddy in one arm and extending his free hand to help Ron up.

Ron contemplated his friend for a moment before responding honestly. “Harry, I am so nervous, I think I might throw up.”

Harry chuckled sympathetically and deftly threw Teddy over his head to sit on his shoulders. Teddy squawked with delight to be in this favoured vantage point and he held tightly onto Harry’s raised hands as his godfather ducked to clear the doorframe. Ron traipsed out to the garden behind him, his knuckles white around the shoulder straps of his rucksack.

The child’s cardboard party hat sat prominently on the edge of a birdbath in Andromeda’s back garden. Ron and Harry knew that they didn’t have long.

“Do you remember everything that Kingsley said about airports?” Harry asked. “And do you have that passport thing?”

“Yep, yep, think I’ve got everything,” Ron looked a bit white. “Hermione’s family are Muggles anyway, they’ll be ok in the areoportagus thingy, won’t they? Hopefully I can just follow them by the time we’re up to that bit.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” Harry replied. “Now the Portkey is meant to take you to a park right near Hermione’s parent’s place, do you remember the address?”

“Erm, yeah, I think it was Number Twenty-Five Whitehaven Street,” Ron said nervously. “And I’ll just hide myself outside somewhere if there’s no one home when I get there. It should be about five o’clock at night when I arrive, right?”

“Sounds right to me,” Harry replied. “She’s going to be over the moon to see you, mate.”

Ron grinned for the first time that morning. “Hope so! This whole thing’ll bit of a disaster otherwise.”

Harry laughed and gently lowered Teddy to the ground. “True, but that’s not even a possibility.”

The pair had organised with Kingsley for Ron to depart from Harry’s place. They wanted to minimise the impact on Mrs Weasley as much as possible. Ron had been hopeful than Ginny would be able to cover for his absence for as long as possible. Harry had also offered to help.

Ron turned seriously to his best friend just as the party hat began to glow a faint blue. “Thanks so much for all of this, mate. You realise I can never repay you right?”

Harry grabbed him into a fierce hug and laughed thickly, “You’ve saved my life at least once, Ron. I think we’ll be even after this.”

Ron released his mate and grinned, touching his fingers to the Portkey just in time.

Harry sighed and dropped to the grass to join Teddy in blowing the stalks off dandelions. He anticipated Hermione’s return keenly and found himself rather jealous of the lack of confusion surrounding Ron and Hermione’s relationship.

“Took them long enough,” he chuckled to himself, and scooped Teddy up to go and chat to Andromeda.

***

In the early evening, Hermione Granger trudged out of the restaurant where she worked into the cool Sydney winter air. She was exhausted physically but her main complaint was her utter loneliness. Her heart ached for her friends, for Harry, for Ginny and especially for Ron. They had only been able to spend such a short amount of time together before she left for Sydney, once they had finally confessed their feelings for one another, and a lot of that time had the shadow of funerals and memorial services looming over it.

She shuffled towards the house she lived in with her parents, she was unable to think of it as “home”, looking forward to collapsing on the couch and re-reading the last letter she’d received from Ron. The street was nearly dark as she turned into it so she nearly fell over when she saw a bright light streaking towards her and the corporeal form of a Jack Russell terrier gambolling playfully around her heels.

“Ron?” she almost squealed, running towards the house in the direction the patronus had come from.

Ron charged towards Hermione and gathered her into a fierce embrace, swinging her right off her feet and spinning her round and round. Eventually, he placed her gently back onto her feet and pulled back to look into her dark brown eyes. Ron released her and brought both hands up to frame her face.

“Hi,” he said softly.

“Hi,” Hermione replied smiling.

Ron leaned in slowly, his eyes not leaving hers until he captured her lips in a tentative, gentle kiss. Hermione melted against him and kissed him back blissfully, her hands winding up into his hair.

“Erm, good evening?”

“Dad!” Hermione jumped away from Ron as if she’d received an electric shock.

Poor Ron’s face looked like it was on fire. “Er, right, Mr Granger. Yeah, hi.”

Mr Granger smiled kindly and extended a hand towards Ron, “It really is good to see you again, Ron.” He laughed, “And it seems my daughter feels that significantly more strongly than I do.”

Hermione giggled uncomfortably, taking Ron’s hand to reassure him in his extreme mortification.

“You’ll be pleased to hear that I’m not here for long, I’m just getting the car to pick up Hermione’s mum from work. Want me to let you into the house? Or are you happy to stay out here on the front steps?”

“Er, thanks Dad, yeah, we might head inside,” Hermione giggled, leading a scarlet Ron into the house.

As soon as he heard the car start up in the driveway, Ron collapsed groaning onto the lounge, his head in his hands. Hermione sat down next to him and tried to coax him into showing his face but Ron’s paroxysms of embarrassment were not passing quickly.

“Oh, come on Ron,” Hermione pleaded, beginning to get annoyed. “You don’t have to be embarrassed in front of me!” Ron raised his head slightly and Hermione played her advantage. “I was enjoying myself until we were interrupted.”

He looked up, still horribly red, but tried to smile, “You realise that will be one of those moments that will cause me to hang my head for the rest of my life.”

Hermione laughed and Ron righted himself on the couch, pulling her into his arms and kissing her soundly.

“How long till your Portkey leaves?” she asked quietly.

“What Portkey?” Ron asked cheekily.

“No, seriously, Ron,” Hermione pleaded. “I just want to know how long I have you here for. I don’t want to suddenly find that you have to go and I’ve wasted all our time!”

Ron turned to face her and took both her hands in his. “Hermione, I’m not leaving without you. I’ve come to bring you and your parents home.”

Hermione gaped at him. “How?” she whispered.

“Harry gave me the money to buy four plane tickets and to cover any of your parents’ moving expenses. Kingsley sorted out a passport for me and we might even be able to get home by Harry’s birthday!”

“But that’s on Friday!” Hermione squealed. “And you’re staying with me until then? What did your parents think?”

“Ah, yeah,” Ron looked guilty. “They don’t exactly know. Harry and Gin are holding Mum off for as long as they can.”

“Oh Ron,” Hermione whispered. “Thanks for letting Harry give you the money. I know that must have been so hard for you.”

“You should have seen him launch into trying to convince me. I think Harry came the closest he’s ever come to punching me!” Ron laughed quietly. “And we all know I’ve brought him pretty close to the edge of that before! But Hermione,” he looked seriously into her eyes, “I’d already decided to ask Harry for the money. I didn’t want to be without you any longer.”

Hermione launched herself at Ron with such passion that she tipped him off the end of the couch and they both found themselves in a sprawling heap on the floor. After righting themselves just enough for a few tender kisses, Ron pulled away, looking amused.

“We’d better get off the floor, ‘Mione. Your dad probably already thinks that I have some horribly debilitating scarlet skin condition. I don’t think I’d ever recover if he walked in with your mum and found us down here.”

Hermione laughed but obediently got to her feet and sat back primly on the couch smiling cheekily.

“And will we be enforcing Professor Umbridge’s six-inch rule, Ronald?”

“Not on your life,” Ron murmured as he wrapped his arms around her and leaned in with intent.

***

Harry and George lounged on the balcony of the flat above Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, their feet up on the railing, looking out over Diagon Alley in the early afternoon sun. Teddy played at their feet, completely absorbed by the enormous assortment of magical toys that George had unearthed from the stockroom.

“How have you held up so well through it all, Harry?” George was asking. His face was completely serious and Harry was struck by the contrast to the George he’d gotten to know at Hogwarts. “I’ve only lost one member of my family and sometimes I worry that it might destroy me. Mate, you’ve lost everyone, and somehow you’re still around to save the day!”

Harry sighed, “I didn’t really know anything about my parents until Hagrid tracked me down to give me my letter to Hogwarts. By that point I guess I’d gotten used to being without them. Did Ron ever tell you about when we found the Mirror of Erised?”

George nodded sympathetically.

“Yeah, that was the first time I ever saw my mum and dad. And since then I’ve only spoken to them in really horrific circumstances; after Cedric was killed and then again just before I faced Voldemort for the last time. But you know what?” Harry smiled sadly, “I guess they crammed all of the things that a son wants to hear into those two occasions, they told me that they loved me, and that they were proud of me. They knew what was going on in my life, you know. So did Sirius and Remus.”

George looked up hopefully. “Does that mean F-Fred will know what’s happening with me?”

“I guess so, that’s how it seems to work,” Harry shrugged and smiled more fully. “But mate, he’s in some great company. He’s in the presence of his heroes, of Moony, Padfoot and Prongs.”

George smiled wanly. “You’ve always made your own way, Harry. You’ve always seemed to know who you are and where you’re going.” He paused, trying to control his emotions. “Fred was always tougher than me, more fearless. I think I’ve just followed him around most of my life. I’m terrified when I think about what I should do now – I don’t even really know how to have conversations without him. I keep waiting for him to fill in the gaps.”

“You’re doing ok, mate,” Harry offered. “You don’t need to get it all together by yourself. Your family have been pretty magnificent to me. It amazes me how much you’ve all filled up the spaces in my life.”

George suddenly perked up. “And that’s why I’m looking forward to the day that we can welcome you into the family officially!”

Harry laughed. “George, are you serious about what you said the other day? It feels so surreal!”

“Sure, so not every brother demands that his business funds his little sister’s potential future engagement ring.” George grinned.

“But seriously, Harry, as I said to you in the shop, we Weasleys all love you, especially Gin! That little scheme of yours that you’ve got me working on will make my parents pretty happy, but nothing will bring us all more joy than seeing you and Ginny grow up and get hitched. It’s not like you don’t want to marry her one day, is it?”

“No!” Harry responded earnestly through his laughter, “It’s definitely not that I don’t want to! It’s just that we’re not even together yet! And we haven’t even finished Hogwarts! How do I have a normal teenage relationship with Ginny when I know that you’re putting galleons aside every week for me to be able to get her the best engagement ring money can buy?”

“You try to forget about it, you wally! Do you need me to obliviate you?” George pointed his wand threateningly at Harry’s head but his grin gave him away.

His features grew more serious. “I just want to make sure you know that your love for my little sister has more than just my blessing. And I know that I speak for Fred in this too – as if he wouldn’t have thought of this hair-brained idea first!”

Harry smiled sadly, “Thanks, mate.” He paused, “You Weasleys have kept me going all this time and I know that being involved with me has cost you all so much over the years. That’s why I want to do everything I can for your mum and dad.”

George brightened again at the mention of Harry’s special commission. “Ah yes, the plot to make my parents rich! You’re right, Harry, they’ll love being able to lavish gifts on everyone for the rest of their lives. I bet they won’t spend any of it on themselves. They’ll just end up being the world’s most doting grandparents and spoil all of our children rotten! We’ll have you to blame, you realise! So, do you want to hear what I’ve come up with so far?”

“Absolutely,” Harry replied, grabbing Teddy to stop him from swallowing a little bewitched toy car. “Hit me with your idea.”

“Ok,” George enthused, “Firstly, I’ve got to get the editors of Witch Weekly on board…”

Ginny’s laughter interrupted them as she appeared on the balcony looking dishevelled. “What’s this about Witch Weekly? I wouldn’t have thought that was your sort of publication, George,”

“Gin!” Harry stood quickly knocking his chair over backwards in his surprise. “What are you doing here?”

George turned to him in explanation, “Oh, didn’t I mention I had a new employee starting at the shop today? You’d really like her, Harry. She’s exactly your type!”

Harry glared at George, who only winked cheekily in return.

Ginny could feel that her face was now as red as her hair, but she could see that Harry wasn’t faring much better.

“I need a lunch-break, George. I’m starving! Can you spare me for half-an-hour or so?” she asked her devious brother, only just managing to keep her tone friendly.

“Teddy and I were just about to go and have lunch back at my place, Gin, do you, um, do you want to join us?” Harry managed to stammer despite his acute embarrassment, trying to hide the redness of his face behind Teddy as he gathered him up for the trip home.

“I’d love to, Harry, but is that ok with you, Boss?” Her eyes dared her brother to make any more smart remarks.

“Fine by me,” George replied wisely. “And you can finish for the day if you want. You’re family! You can always earn your wages after you’ve spent them.”

Ginny’s expression softened and she gave George a small smile. “That’d be great. I’m sick to death of those bloody Mandrakes!”