After having paid the post owl, Harry rushed inside - ignoring the twinge in his arm - to read the letter in peace. Casting off his jacket and trainers he stretched out on his camp bed and ripped open the envelope.
Dear Harry
How are you? I hope the weather at home is even half as nice as it is down-under, because here it's fantastic. Right now I'm looking out of the window and the only cloud I can see looks like a huge fluffy dragon. When I mentioned this to Mum and Dad, Mum said something about being able to see a real one, which made me laugh.
And yes, as you may have guessed, I have finally found my parents! They've been living here in Perth all along; they were even in the process of setting up a second dentist's surgery before I removed the memory charm. As for that, they were rather annoyed that I had done it at first, but now they are just glad that I am safe. The last few days have been rather hectic which is why I haven't written - sorry about that by the way - Mum and Dad have been getting reacquainted with their old selves and we've had to decide what we're going to do now. I think Mum might want to stay here for good, or at the very least keep the house that the bought, I'm not sure how Dad feels about that though. To be honest I'm not even sure how I feel about it, I love Australia, it's the most amazing place I've ever been to (except perhaps Hogwarts.) Saying that it's still not home.
I really miss you, and Ron, I wish you could both be here, but I did choose to come on my own and it's lovely to spend time with my parents after a whole year of being away. How are Ron and Luna getting along? She must be away to Hogwarts by now. I think she may be the best thing that could ever happen to Ron, has he realised it yet? I thought it was so funny, but also incredibly sweet when you told me about them in the garden. I can just imagine him with apple blossoms caught in his hair. He hasn't mentioned her in any of his letters, but that only backs up your theory that he has a huge crush on her!
You must write back soon Harry, I miss you so much.
Lots of love, Hermione.
P.S how's Ginny?
The excitement Harry had felt on opening the letter had quickly dwindled as he continued to read. Hermione might be staying in Australia for good; she might never come back! Well not permanently anyway. It was like being told that your leg was going to be removed for no obvious reason. He just couldn't comprehend life without someone as vital as Hermione. His reflective mood was suddenly shattered by Ron as he came stomping into the room.
"Mum says she won't make dinner for another two hours, she's gonna wait till Perce comes home from his work! And she says I can't have anything to eat till then. What am I supposed to do, starve to death? Ugh."
Harry grinned, it was nice to know some things never changed.
As the weeks progressed Hermione's letters became less frequent - a very un-Hermione-ish thing in itself - and Harry could only assume that she was either very busy with her parents or, and this was what he dreaded, she was trying to distance herself in preparation for a permanent move to Australia. It wasn't until she had said she might never be coming back that he realised how much he missed her. She was just as, if not more, important to him as Ron but she filled a different space in his life. It was something he couldn't quite define; the more he thought about it the farther away he felt from the answer.
To pass time he and Ron decided they would both apply to become Auror's, since they enlisted every October. Since they hadn't returned for seventh year, and therefore hadn't actually achieved their N.E.W.T's, Harry wasn't sure whether they would get in. But as Ron pointed out, who was going to turn down the Boy-Who-Lived? Sometimes being famous had its merits. They spent a whole afternoon sitting in the garden trying to work out what to write on their application forms. Ron was all for exploiting the Voldemort angle, but after some persuasion he agreed to keep it sensible and only mention it to explain why they didn't have their qualifications. What he did complain about though was the fact that there wasn't a section to list your experience in dealing with the Dark Arts.
"I'd need a whole book for that anyway," Harry joked.
The next morning they left for the Ministry with Percy and Mr Weasley. They parted ways in the atrium, now thankfully devoid of the "Magic is Might" statue, and made their way down to Level two. It was the first time either of them had been in the building since they had stolen the locket from Umbridge. Although there was little chance they would meet her today, she had been promptly fired after the Battle at Hogwarts. Harry glanced across at his friend as they stood in the lift and smiled slightly as he seemed to have turned a sickly shade of green - he looked like he was going to start vomiting slugs again.
"Ron, they're not going to ask you to hug a spider, all you've got to do is hand in the form."
As the grill slid open Harry had to duck or risk losing an eye as several message planes swooped into the lift to circle around the ceiling. The Auror office was just as Harry remembered it - a bit more cluttered perhaps and with different mugshots pinned up, but essentially the same. The two of them approached the cubicle that had a large sign spellotaped to it reading ENQUIRIES HERE.
"Ahem." Harry knocked on the side of a panel to get the attention of the witch inside. A pair of sharp grey eyes looked up at him from behind thick framed, black glasses. He thought she must be about twenty five and probably quite pretty if she smiled; right now however, red lips pursed as her eyes flicked from him to Ron and his squint tie.
"Yes?"
"We…" Harry cleared his throat again, "we came to hand in these application forms…" He trailed off again as she raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. Aware he was starting to blush he thrust the sheets of paper at her. She took them with a reluctant, "I'll pass them on," lazily flicking her eyes across the top of the page. She paused as she read his name, her eyes automatically raking his forehead for confirmation. In a flash her whole demeanour changed.
"I'll make sure someone looks at these today," she beamed at him, showing every one of her pearly white teeth before turning her megawatt smile on Ron. "Someone will get back to you shortly."
They turned to leave the office and were almost to the door when they heard a strangled voice behind them. "Excuse me!" The young woman, who had turned scarlet, was rushing towards them. "Would you mind - could I have your autographs?" She produced a pad of paper and passed it to him.
Harry darted a surprised glance at Ron, who merely rolled his eyes, before scribbling his name on the piece of paper. Then to Ron's astonishment she pulled the paper out of Harry's hands and thrust it at him as well.
Needless to say Ron left the Auror office that day with a huge grin on his face and decidedly pink ears. He couldn't wait to get home and tell his mother that he had given an autograph. But Harry had other ideas; the witch's behaviour had given him an idea. Other than in the immediate aftermath of the Battle, and the stares he received at the station, he had managed to avoid facing up to his saviour status. The encounter with the witch however, had shown him just how much of a celebrity he had become in the intervening time; and how much influence he might have. So much had happened since the night of Ron and Hermione's last argument that he had - almost - forgotten his promise to Mr Weasley. Quickly he conveyed his idea to Ron as the two of them made their way back to the lift.
"So what do you think?" he asked. Of all people he didn't want Ron to think he was throwing his weight around.
"Harry," Ron deadpanned, "if you asked people to dance naked up Diagon Alley I'm sure they'd be happy to do it just because it was you who asked."
Harry decided to ignore that last remark.
After taking four wrong turns they eventually found the department they were looking for. Five desks in varying states of disarray filled a long, narrow room which ended in a door bearing an official looking brass nameplate. Harry approached the closest desk and said in what he hoped was an authoritative voice, "Excuse me, my name's Harry Potter. Could I speak to -" he squinted at the distant door, "Archibald Willoughby please?"
The young, dishevelled looking, wizard leapt out of his seat with alacrity squeaking, "Yes Mr Potter sir!" before speeding off up the room. A muffled snort of laughter behind him caused Harry to turn. Standing just inside the door they had entered by, Ron was quietly killing himself laughing, his face had gone bright red trying to hold it in. catching Harry's eye he grinned wickedly.
"Yes Mr Potter sir," he mimicked.
One thing that Harry soon discovered about Archie Willoughby was that if left to his own devices he babbled incessantly. "Mr Potter, and Mr Weasley I presume? It's such an honour…"
A middle-aged short, rather tubby, gentleman, Willoughby possessed a quantity of curly, tawny hair which he was sadly losing at the front. Instead of ordinary wizard robes he had opted to wear a tweed suit and waistcoat paired with a canary yellow bowtie. Around his neck he had little notes to himself hanging on a chain flashing different colours depending on how urgent they were.
"… as you can see the office is quite small…" needless to say Harry liked him immensely already.
"…caught us on a bit of an off day I'm afraid, it's not usually -"
"Mr Willoughby," Ron cut across him. "We are here to speak to you about having a memorial put up at Hogwarts."
"Ah, yes. Say no more." He beckoned them towards his office.
Once they were in and seated he proceeded to rifle through the notes on the chain before producing one that was an alarming scarlet. "I knew I had forgotten something, I always do you know. Arthur mentioned this to me a few weeks ago, unfortunately we had just received word that a new wing needed to be built on the fifth floor - not to mention the secrecy charms around Stonehenge had to be replaced. I'm afraid we've been very busy."
Harry smiled, he sounded just like Neville with his Rememberall. "Well, you see many of the people who died were close friends of ours and Ron's… brother, he - anyway we felt something to commemorate what they gave to the world would be appropriate. If money's an issue then I'm sure -"
"No need, no need, for something like this I'm sure we'll have plenty of sponsors. As I say I'll get onto it right away. It's time we did something about this. I'll contact some stonecharmers this afternoon."
Harry stood up, beaming at him. "Thank you, thank you very much." He shook his hand warmly, followed by Ron who seemed to have become rather watery-eyed all of a sudden. As they stood in the corridor afterwards, Ron turned to him. "You know everyone treats us differently now because they think we're heroes or something stupid, but you know what I realised in there? We're just two guys who happened to come along and get in the way of a nutcase. The real heroes are Fred and Lupin, people like them who had less of a choice than us but gave everything anyway. They should be the ones signing autographs, not us."
Harry clapped him on the shoulder, "Well said mate. They'd be proud of you you know."
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