Author's Note:
Sorry for the long wait. Over the past month I have gotten a new job, moved to college and adjusted to college life. Free time has been a dream, with only enough time in a day to get a few lines written. However, though my keyboard has had little use, my mind has had quite the opposite. The plotline has matured much over the past few weeks and I cannot wait to pump out the next few chapters.
Thanks for all of your excellent reviews. I hope the quality of my writing hasn't fallen in the long absence.
It's good to be back.
Looking Back
Chapter 2
Sounds of farewells filled the air and hugs were exchanged all around as the train pulled to a stop. Everyone was smiling and making last minute promises to get together - everyone except Harry. He had walked off the train with Hermione, Ron and Luna, and had at once been left on his own. Ron and Hermione had taken off to somewhere by the exit and Luna had faded into the background. Meanwhile, Harry sat on a bench and closed his eyes, trying to drown out the commotion.
He had long become accustomed to seeing Cedric and Sirius and Fred, Tonks and Lupin, Dumbledore and Snape, Hedwig and his parents as he closed his eyes. But it was different now. He had seen them, spoken to them, understood them. It didn't make his insides tighten anymore, or squelch all his hope, or stir up feelings of anger. Now that he knew, he was content.
It had been a shocking revelation, when it was all over, that he had been fighting for everyone who had died. He hadn't been fighting for his future or for the futures of humanity, for the greater good. All of it had been for those who had died. And in the midst of it he had forgotten that life went on after the fight was over.
Even more unsettling was the empty feeling that had settled over him. He had nothing to look forward to; he had no goals, no aspirations, no dreams. It all seemed blasé. His entire world had been about winning the war and avenging the deaths of those who had died trying. His purpose was gone.
Harry looked up, noticing that Ginny was sitting next to him, fully engrossed in a conversation.
"...then we can visit Muggle London - dad will love it - and maybe watch a film. I've always wanted to try the restaurants, too, and go shopping. Mum and dad have never had enough money, but now that their identities have been revealed, the Ministry has given them both small fortunes for bonuses. Perhaps you can find a hobby to keep you busy. What do you think?"
Harry blinked. "Are you talking to me?"
"Merlin, did you hear any of that?" asked Ginny exasperatedly. "Was I talking to myself?"
"That's a distinct possibility," said Harry slowly.
"Men," grumbled Ginny. "So do you want to stay or not?"
"What?" asked Harry, confused.
"Stay at our house," clarified Ginny. "Mum and dad already said you could."
The idea was far from appealing. Harry could think of nothing worse than telling Ginny every day for months that he wasn't ready to go out with her. No, that would be torture.
"I would, but I already have plans," and I would rather live at the Leaky Cauldron, finished Harry in his head.
Ginny's eyes narrowed. "Already have plans? I thought you were still looking."
"No, I've found a place," Harry said, looking around for an excuse to leave.
"Where?" probed Ginny.
"Hermione invited me to her house. I'm staying there until I can find a flat."
Ginny's eyes slanted. "You're living with Hermione alone?"
"For a few months."
"A few months?" Ginny said loudly. "I don't think so. You're my boyfriend, remember?"
"Hermione and I are adults," said Harry, standing up. Ginny did not like his answer. "Just because you're an adult doesn't mean you aren't male."
"And just because I'm living in the same house as Hermione doesn't mean I'm going to take advantage of her," said Harry, raising his voice. "She's practically my sister."
"And what am I?" pressed Ginny angrily.
Harry turned around and began to walk away. "I'm not having this conversation with you."
"Don't you leave me," Harry heard faintly behind him as he pushed his way into the crowd. He ignored it and began searching for Hermione and Ron - it was time to get out of this place. All the way across the station he saw them standing by the door.
Ron was red in the face and had one hand fumbling around with something in his pocket. He didn't seem to notice Hermione waiting expectantly, but patiently, for him.
"Hey, what's up you two?" asked Harry loudly, stepping up to them.
Hermione shot him a death glare while Ron visibly relaxed.
"Just talking," Ron said. "What about you?"
"I don't know," Harry replied honestly. "Not well. With all these funerals to attend…" he said morbidly.
"Yeah," said Ron firmly, setting his jaw and staring straight ahead. "Funerals. I nearly forgot."
Hermione glanced concernedly between Ron and Harry. After a short silence she said, "They would want us to live. Isn't that why we all fought?"
Ron took a deep breath and nodded, but still stared stonily ahead. But Harry couldn't agree. He still couldn't figure out why he had fought.
"Hey, Ron," said Harry, trying to change the subject. "I found a place to stay this summer, but I want your approv-"
"You have it," Ron responded, cutting him off. "I would even go with you, but I've got to stay home with the family."
"Of course," Harry said, memories of his mother and father floating into his mind.
They stood silently for a moment, Ron staring morbidly at the ground. Hermione reached out and grasped his hand, squeezing it tightly.
And suddenly there seemed to be a gap between Harry and his friends. He hadn't moved and neither had they, but the distance between them had multiplied tenfold. It finally hit home; they were no longer the trio - now it was Ron and Hermione - and then there was Harry.
"I'll just be waiting outside then," said Harry, scratching his forehead. "Right." He looked around a few times and then made his way through the train station and out the front doors.
The slight breeze and sunlight washed over Harry as he stepped out from under the overhang near the door. For one brief moment he let himself forget everything and just exist. But it didn't last long, for almost immediately he heard a squeaky man's voice shout his name from behind him.
"Mr. Potter, Mr. Potter," repeated the voice.
Harry turned around to see a short, bumbling wizard who seemed to have no care for Muggle attire, hustling towards him from the train station. The man's face was round and his smile appeared to be plastered on his face. His long purple robes looked odd even in the wizarding world.
"Can I help you?" asked Harry, checking around to make sure there was no Muggle company.
"Most definitely," assured the man, smiling even more broadly.
They stood for a good minute, the man grinning madly, until Harry broke the silence.
"Well?" he inquired.
"Bramwell Briggs," stated the man, extending his hand. "Ministry of Magic, Head of Unspeakables."
Harry skeptically shook the man's hand. "Harry Potter."
"As we all know," said the man, winking. "Now down to business. In light of the recent Dark Lord events, the Minister has decided to restructure; it was failing anyways, as you could see. He is reforming the defense - hold on a moment?" He flicked his wand over his head in a wide sweeping arc, a trail of purple sparks trailing behind it. "-silencing charm-do you mind if I Obliviate you?"
Harry raised both eyebrows. The man was surely mad. "What?"
"If you don't accept what I'm about to offer you, I'll have to Oblivate you," clarified Briggs.
"Well I don't-"
"Well, now, it won't matter if you say `yes' or `no,' since you won't remember once I Obliviate you," said Briggs, chuckling.
"What? Once you-"
"Worry not, my boy," Briggs said. "I'm just asking you if you want to be a part of the new defense program."
"But you haven't explained-"
"Of course not!" erupted Briggs. "Here, in a public place? Are you daft?" Briggs' eyes lit up suddenly. "Ah, here she comes now."
Harry turned to see Hermione walking towards them from the train station. Briggs swished his wand and a purple aura surround her.
"Miss Granger, is it?" asked Briggs. "A pleasure to meet you."
"It is, and you?" Hermione asked pleasantly.
"Briggs. Bramwell Briggs," responded the short man happily. "Head of- "
"Unspeakables. Yes, I know," finished Hermione. "Dumbledore mentioned you once. Why are you speaking to Harry?" Her demeanor changed immediately to defensive.
Briggs grinned. "I'm offering him a job, Miss Granger. In fact, I was looking for you as well. You see, the Ministry has formed a new defense plan that will more effectively deal with Dark Lords and similar mass rebellion. Both of you are perfect for the positions."
"What exactly is the job description?" asked Hermione suspiciously.
"Not here," Briggs said quietly. "We'll have to go somewhere safe. We can't Apparate, but we can use this Ministry Portkey."
As Briggs fumbled around in his pocket, Harry's attention was suddenly taken by a tall figure in black robes pushing his way through the crowd emerging from the train station. The man was walking quickly towards them, though his face was turned down towards the ground.
Harry turned his attention back to Briggs, who was now actively strip-searching himself, but he kept one eye on the approaching figure.
"A Portkey, Mr. Briggs? How do we know we can trust you?" asked Hermione.
"You can tell, Miss Granger. I'm sure of it," responded Briggs. "Aha! Found it." He hoisted a large silver coin out of an inner pocket of his robe. "If you would both lay your hands on the seal."
"Well, I suppose I've already given farewells to everyone," said Hermione skeptically. "You should speak to Ron before you leave, Harry."
"We'll see each other in a couple hours," Harry said nonchalantly.
Briggs coughed. "I don't have much time - busy day, you know? Are you coming or not?"
Harry narrowed both eyes. "Does `not going' involve getting Obliviated?"
"Of course," Briggs said, grinning.
Harry waited for Hermione to make the first move. Their eyes met. Apparently she was waiting for him. He grinned and lifted his hand. Hermione smiled back, and together they grasped the seal.
Moments later, Harry slammed feet first into a hard, tile floor. Hermione nearly toppled over, but Harry grabbed her arm and steadied her.
Briggs motioned for them to follow him. "This way."
They were in a long, wide hall with a single slanted wall instead of a ceiling. Lining the top were massive slits running the entire height of the wall and showering the floor with various patterns of sunlight. Briggs ushered them through a large black door at the end.
They entered a medium sized office with a large mahogany desk in the center, squeezed in on both sides by packed bookcases. Behind it was a huge plushy chair, all black and silhouetted in front of a low, but tall window.
"Take a seat," Briggs said, indicating the two chairs in front of his desk. He sat down on the other side.
"What's this all about," asked Harry, immediately sitting down.
"Quite frankly, Aurors aren't working," Briggs responded bluntly. For once his smile was gone. "The balance of power in the Ministry is too lopsided - the Minister has too much direct power over the Aurors. If his position is ever challenged, the country's defense is cut off.
"We have been considering alternative forms of government. At first we looked at splitting power between political groups, but then the disputes and procedure would halt any productivity. A democratic government was also considered, but with the corruption in the media, we would degrade and eventually collapse from the inside. Instead, we decided on a combination: seven leaders, all formidable wizards, the best of their time, ruling together, each with an equal share of power.
"The Minister would still lead, but the seven would have the power to override the Minister's decisions, and would announce them to the public. They would be trained intensely and perpetually in logic, magic, history and fitness. They would be public symbols - idols - models for society."
Hermione narrowed her eyes. "Is this a joke?"
"I'm afraid not," said Briggs grimly.
"So you're saying you want us to be part of these seven leaders?" inquired Harry, already hating the idea.
Briggs nodded. "You are both highly respected already, and as Dumbledore informed us many times, highly qualified."
"Hermione is," Harry said. "But I'm just an average Wizard with a lot of luck. I know that sounds odd, but I'm not all that I'm cut out to be, really."
"Harry!" Hermione said, her eyes widening. "You're an excellent Wizard."
"Please - Voldemort was a better Wizard than me - Dumbledore, too, and Snape," said Harry. "You're triple my ability. That whole battle was dumb luck."
Hermione was about to respond, but Briggs waved her down. "Despite what you think, Mr. Potter, your family has a long history of excellent Wizards and Witches. From what I hear, you learned a Patronus in your third year at Hogwarts, yes?"
"Yes, but," started Harry.
"Let me explain something to you. I have been working in the Department of Mysteries for three times as long as you've been alive, and in all that time I've learned quite a bit about magic. You, at the age of thirteen, showed a higher magic than most grown wizards. That limit continually increases as long as you are alive. Mr. Potter, I would not be surprised if you are the most powerful Wizard alive."
"I'm honored, really," said Harry disbelievingly. "But I haven't noticed anything."
"You have nothing to compare it to," said Briggs. "Maybe you haven't tried as hard as your classmates."
"Of course I did," Harry said. "It doesn't matter, really. I don't want to do this anyways. Thanks for the offer." He stood up and held out his hand.
Briggs sighed. "Please, just think about it." He stood up and shook Harry's hand. "And you, Miss Granger?"
Hermione stared sadly at Harry. "We'll see. How long do we have to decide?"
Briggs tapped his desk and a small calendar popped out of it. He studied it for a moment, then said, "One week should do it - before Friday at noon."
"Thank you, sir," Hermione said, shaking Briggs' hand. "How should we contact you?"
Briggs grinned. "Don't worry about that. We'll contact you."
"Thank you, sir," Hermione said. "Now how do we get home?"
"A Portkey has been arranged - it will take you to your home. Mr. Potter, we heard will be staying with you." Briggs slipped his hand into his pocket and held out a familiar looking coin.
"Right," said Hermione. "He will. Thanks again."
Harry glanced at Hermione, furious, for some reason, at Briggs. She read his eyes like a book and shook her head.
"Let's go, Harry," she said firmly.
Harry leveled his head and stepped towards Briggs. "Good bye, sir, and thank you."
Briggs nodded, and together, Harry and Hermione grasped the Portkey.
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