The Auror

"He's onto me, Gin," Harry said in an undertone. Ginny stared back at him, eyes wide and lips puckered - midway through sucking up a particularly long strand of spaghetti. She would have looked quite comical if the situation wasn't so serious, Harry thought.

"Certh. The Death Eater. He knows I'm following him," Harry continued, leaning across the small table to pull the excess strand of spaghetti from her mouth and eating it himself.

"Well, you'll just have to be extra careful then, won't you," Ginny tried to say casually, but she failed to hide the concern in her voice. "How did he find out?"

"I don't know. But he knows he's being followed. He knows I'm investigating him."

"Maybe you should just drop it, Harry. Close his case. You don't even know he's a Death Eater."

"Well, he's dark wizard, regardless. He's used dark magic and I'm certain he's responsible for Winston's murder."

"But there's no proof, Harry! Don't try and read into things that aren't there. Even the Ministry isn't behind you on this one."

"The Ministry's been wrong before, Ginny."

"The Ministry isn't under You-Know-Who's command any more, Harry, for Christ's sake!" Ginny shouted, standing up making her chair fly back into the wall.

"That doesn't make them right," Harry said in a small voice.

"I know," Ginny sighed as she slinked round the table and slid her arms around Harry's shoulders. "I'm sorry. I don't want to argue, Harry."

"Nobody asked you to." It slipped out before he could stop himself. Ginny hesitated and then untangled herself from her husband, collecting the dirty plates from the table.

"Gin, I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. It's just, no one believes me about this bloke."

Ginny dropped the plates into the sink, turned to face Harry and gave him a sad look.

"I do," Ginny said quietly. Harry looked at her sceptically. "I do, Harry, but I just don't like the idea of you chasing after somebody as potentially as dangerous as You-Know-Who. I know it's your job, and I know you feel it's your duty, but I hate it. Every day I wonder if you'll even come home."

Harry simply looked at his wife disbelievingly.

"Most days I'm in the office doing paperwork, Ginny. Or dealing with some joker who's one too many shots of firewhiskey and cast the dark mark over his own house. Why would I not come home from that?"

"I still worry!" Ginny said in a hurt voice, "Especially recently. There hasn't been a murder like Winston's since the days of You-Know-Who!"

"I know, I know. I'm sorry, but look - I'm so close, OK? I need maybe a few more days before I have enough evidence to make a compelling case against him. Please, just bear with me..."

Harry pushed himself away from the table and walked over to his wife. Ginny said nothing but draped her arms around his neck and let him raise her so she was sitting on the kitchen work surface. They stared into each other's eyes for what seemed to Harry like an age, until Ginny broke the silence.

"OK Harry, do what you have to do, but promise me this - "

"Anything," Harry whispered, planting a gentle kiss on Ginny's lips.

"Come home safely, with no injuries," she kissed his neck, "no enemies," she kissed his cheek, "and no regrets - don't do anything stupid," she made to kiss his lips, but stopped, awaiting his reply.

"I can't promise any of that Ginny, you know that," Harry said.

"Promise," Ginny breathed. Harry hesitated, then -

"I promise," he replied, leaning into Ginny's kiss.

*****

Harry looked at the clock on his desk that sat next to the photograph of himself and Ginny at the Burrow last Christmas.

Ten to Nine. Only ten minutes to go, Harry thought somewhat apprehensively. In ten short minutes he was due to present the report that had spent the last week finishing to the current Minister for Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt. True to Ginny's warning one week ago he had returned home in good health after each day carrying out the dangerous task of finding out as much as he could about Certh. Anxious to impress the Minister and to be given permission to bring in the dark wizard, Harry mentally ran through every detail he could remember. The Minister wouldn't have time to read through the carefully composed report, so Harry would have to remember as much as he could and verbally convince the Minister.

Harry was early when he reached the small interview room being used for this hopefully brief meeting. Harry saw the Minister approaching from the other end of the corridor, walking rather hastily with purpose in his stride. Keen to get out of the Ministry and arrest Certh all before the end of the day, Harry greeted the Minister enthusiastically. Shacklebolt, however, returned the greeting rather curtly, not making eye contact or accepting Harry's outstretched hand. As they entered the somewhat claustrophobic interview room, the Minister shut and locked the door behind them, pushing Harry unnecessarily hard toward one of the two plush chairs occupying the room. His eyes shot around, as if searching for something.

"Minister, what's -" Harry began, somewhat taken aback by the Minister's uncharacteristically rude manner.
"Listen Potter, that report you've made..." Kingsley trailed off, his eyes still roving the room's walls.

"Yes, Minister? I have it here," Harry replied apprehensively, following the Minister's face carefully. He didn't like the way the Minister was acting at all.

"Forget it. Lose it, throw it away Potter. It doesn't matter anymore. We already know what Certh is up to."

"Excellent! Great, so I have your permission to arrest -"

"No, Potter!" Kingsley spat, and offered no elaboration, his eyes still scanning the room.

"Kingsley, what the hell's going on?" Harry said angrily, making to rise from his chair.

"Stop!" Kingsley whispered with urgency. His eyes had stopped roaming and had come to rest on an alcove some ten feet above their heads.

"Minister, what -"

"Petrificus Totallus!" the Minister roared, as he swiftly drew his wand and pointed at the alcove.