The New Magical Minister

Ginny had just sat down with a nice mug of rich, creamy cocoa when there was a knock at the door. She glared at it with all her might, willing the person on the other side to leave. For a moment, there was silence, and then -

"C'mon, Ginny, open up."

Ginny sighed. She placed the cocoa on the table and went to the door, then leaned her ear against it. "Daniel?"

"Yes."

Of course, who else? Ginny sighed again and opened the door. The man walked in without preamble, looking rather majestic in the small flat. He had sandy hair that was very neatly placed on his head and dark eyes that stared down at Ginny, a good foot above her head. Ginny closed the door with her foot and smiled up at him. He, in turn, bent down to hug her. She wrapped her arms around his neck, taking in the familiar smell of him. Daniel Gin always wore the same scent.

Ginny had met him whiley looking for someone to take her novel (which was uncomplete and without a title) up and offer to publish it. Unfortunately, everybody turned their nose up at Ginny, and in despair she had gone once more into Wizz Hard Books. It was then that she knocked into Daniel...literally. Dozens of pieces of parchment flew from her grasp as they both tumbled to the floor. In the end, Daniel got a glimpse of a page and declared that it was wonderful.

They had been together since.

Presently, Daniel pulled away and went to the kitchen. He picked a banana from the fruit bowl and peeled it, carefully placing the peel in the waste basket. Leaning over the counter, Daniel sank his pristine teeth into it and chewed, examining Ginny's messy apartment. "Homessly, Winny -" he stopped, swallowed, "-this place looks like a dragon's pen!"

Ginny looked around. It wasn't that bad. All right, so the desk was in complete disarray, and her window had dust forming on it, and there were a few pieces of laundry that were scattered on the floor, but it was liveable. At least, it was for Ginny. Daniel's definition of liveable was complete cleanliness, not a speck of dust or dirt to be banished. Frankly, it annoyed Ginny.

"I haven't had much time on my hands," Ginny lied, nudging her dirty trousers under her desk. "What brings you around?"

"Can't I stop over just because I want to see you, Ginny?" Daniel said, then beamed at her.

"Of course you can. But...you know, with everything that happened today-"

"A trechery, isn't it? How awful, those little children-"

"Stop!" Ginny cried, clapping her hands over her ears. She flopped onto the couch and stared at the coffee table, tracing the pattern of the grain with her eyes. All of a sudden she felt sick. A moment later and she felt Daniel sit down next to her, placing his hand on her back comfortingly.

"Ginny?"

"Don't talk about it."

"You're the one who brought it up."

"I know, just please-" but she stopped, choking slightly. She looked over at Daniel, who's face seemed to be plastered on. In a sudden second, his eyes seemed to hold no emotion, just deep darkness, but a instant later it was gone. He leaned over and placed a soft kiss on her forehead, making her cold skin tingle from the warmth. Ginny drew in a shuddering breath and pulled away. "I got some done on my novel."

"Really?" Daniel asked with withdrawn interest.

"Well, no, not really."

"Oh," he said, and instead of bringing Ginny words of advice, he went on, "I've just been given the biggest publishing stunt of the year. Can you imagine? Me! It's laughable, it is, but then again I am the most senior...."

And slowly his words meshed together, like they always did when Ginny lost interest. She caught certain phrases - something about a man named Hedger and his new deal - but most of the time she spent glancing about. Her head automatically knew when to nod or to shake, but Ginny did not understand what he was saying. She knew, deep down, that she should be listening, but Daniel's ramblings were worse than her mothers. And that was a feat that had only been accomplished by Daniel.

"-so I said- Ginny, are you listening?"

"Yes."

"Good. So then I said-"

But of course she wasn't listening. Ginny nodded, encouraging Daniel to go on, then settled herself into the corner of the couch with her knees tucked up. She glanced around her small, messy flat, catching sight of the radio on the floor near her feet. Ginny switched it on and turned down the volume, ignoring Daniel's puzzled look. With both ears on the radio, she pretended to be listening to him.

Just then, the music was cut short by a female's voice, urgent and shocked. Ginny leaned forward to hear it over Daniel, and what she heard made her yell.

"This is a breaking news story from the WNN at seven fifteen in the evening," the woman said, and there were voices in the background. "Minister Fudge's press secretary, Sirius Black, has just announced the Minister's decision to close Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry indefinetly. The neighboring town of Hogsmeade was attacked this afternoon by what unconfirmed reports call Death Eaters. In response, Fudge has ordered the school to be closed and emptied by tomorrow morning. All students will arrive late tomorrow evening at the King's Cross Station in London -"

Ginny hadn't realized she had been holding her breath until she let it out. Daniel had fallen silent, his eyes troubled but not altogether strickened. The women on the radio continued to talk, then added that in another half an hour there would be an update. The voice fell silent as some song that Ginny didn't recognize came on. Dully, she turned off the radio and sank into the couch, her ears ringing.

Hogwarts was a huge castle, grander than any fantasy could concoct. With turrets and towers and a hundred different unknown passages, it was the most mysterious of all buildings. Ginny couldn't fanthom it being closed. She couldn't picture the dim halls now darkened with despair, the windows dark tomorrow night, the fireplaces still warm but never to be lit again....

And it all made her so mad! She stood up went to the window, wrapping her arms around her torso. She stared down at Diagon Alley, now dark and empty save a few lonely souls, and watched as the moonlight played tricks with her eyes. Ginny could see the massive building of the Ministry over the thatched roofs,. She wondered what sort of havoc was taking place within the marble walls.

Daniel had come up behind her all of a sudden, and then wrapped his long arms across her stomach. The shiver that had flown down Ginny's back during the radio announcement faded, and she let herself fall into his embrace. Daniel pressed his face into her hair. "What sort of a world is this, Ginny?"

"One we shouldn't live in."

"Do we have a choice?"

"We did, but idiots like Fudge took it away." Ginny felt Daniel tense.

"Fudge isn't an idiot," he said calmly, soothingly. "It's the Death Eaters who are idiots."

"They're more than that, Dan."

He inhaled, then let the warm air escape onto her hair. "I know."

Ginny watched as a figure darted through the miserable, soggy night below, and she felt the draft of lonliness through her bones. She pushed herself as far as she could into Daniel's chest. "Stay with me," she whispered.

He tightened his grip and ran his fingers over Ginny's arms. "I will."

Sirius dug his fingernails into the palm of his hand. He had his fists curled so tightly that he could feel the blood pulsing beneath the skin. He watched Fudge stand behind the podium, using a stool to bring himself up. The press pelted him with questions, and under the bright light and flashes from cameras, one could spot sweat beads upon Fudge's forehead.

"Fudge," shouted one reporter, "how have parents reacted to your decision to close Hogwarts?" Fudge patted his head with a handkerchief and looked to Sirius, who stood hidden by the shadows of the hallway. There was a puff of smoke from a camera in front of Sirius, and he realized that the photographer had just gotten a picture of Fudge, unsure and worried. This was not heading the right way.

Sirius had told Fudge that he couldn't handle it. He had said that the men and women here were mean, and relentless, and crafty, and probably all came from Slytherin. But Fudge had breezed by with a wave of his hand, pushing Sirius away with disdain. Sirius would have enjoyed seeing Fudge suffer if the Ministry wouldn't suffer along with him.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned his head ever so slightly, so that he could still see Fudge up on the stage. Maria stood behind him, her dark face even deeper in the shadows. "Pull him back. He's failing."

"You noticed?" Sirius said, then stepped forward. He raised his hand and, Sirius noted with satisfaction, the entire room fell silent. "That is all that Minister Fudge has to say. I'll have another update in half-an-hour, if not sooner. Thank you." And before Fudge could protest, Sirius pressed Fudge forward rather harshly and walked him through to the hallway. Maria joined them quickly.

"Sir, may I just point how how much of an imbocile you are?" Maria said, and Sirius was taken aback by her frankness. "The press now thinks you're a raging moron," and Maria paused to give Sirius a looked that seemed to say 'he is a raging moron.' "If you don't come up with something worthwhile, you'll be thrown out of office!"

Fudge laughed and passed her comment off, but Sirius was sure he wasn't as carefree as he appeared. A hand suddenly caught him around his arm and held him back. Sirius turned to find Remus Lupin's grey face staring at him, enraged. Fudge stopped a few meters down the hall, noticng Sirius' absence. "Black?"

"Er," Sirius, casting a wary look at Remus, who looked ready to kill. "Go ahead." Fudge shrugged and was dragged away by Maria. Sirius tried to shake his arm out of Remus' grip, but Remus squeezed with unnerving strength.

"Is there somewhere we can go without being...overheard?" Remus asked, his eyes flashing with a held back anger, the kind that could explode if not controlled. Sirius had seen it before in his friend; many times, in fact, though not as much reccently as before. Remus had learned to control his explosive, adolescent anger.

Without saying a word, Sirius walked down a bright hallway on the left, passing many goblins guarding various doors. He stopped in front of D10 at the end of the corridor, Remus still clinging to his arm. The goblin guarding the door gave the two a suspicious look, glancing one too many times at their connected arms. "Who are you?" the goblin asked, his voice leering on the last word.

"Sirius Black, Ministry of Magic's head lawyer, Fudge's - oh, hell, will you let me through with this?" Sirius said, pushing his badge in front of the long face. The goblin seemed to take in every fiber of the badge, then looked down at Sirius' arm where Remus held it. Remus, finally becoming uncomfortable, dropped Sirius' arm with a great thrust.

"Very well," the goblin said, turned and pressed his long finger into a keyhole, then stepped aside. The door swung open and Sirius pulled Remus through to the amazingly bright room. Through the blinding brilliance of the room, Sirius made his way to the girl at the desk.

"Hullo," Sirius said. The girl poked her nose from behind a huge book. She let out a squeal, dropped the book, then sat up straight. "Oh, Mr. Black!" she cried, her face red, "what can I do for you, Sir?"

Sirius was very much aware of Remus' muffled snort. "I need one room, soundproofed with wards." And as an afterthought, added, "Please."

"Of course, of course! Here-" the girl stared at Sirius, her hand haphazardly spilling her drink all over her book. "Whoops! No problem!" She quickly closed the book and dropped it on the floor. She reached again for her wand, this time knocking it off the desk, causing it to roll between Remus and Sirius. Both men bent to pick it up and knocked their heads together.

"Ow!"

"Dammit!" Remus snatched the wand first, then glared at Sirius. He got the point, stood up, and waited for Remus to hand her the wand. She swished it in a way Sirius couldn't make out. The door on the right banged open.

"Thank you-" Sirius said, then caught sight of her name on her robes, "-Alice." When Sirius said her name, she melted into her chair and stared, lazy-eyed, at him as he left. He quickly shut the door. Remus was found leaning against the table, sniggering. Sirius narrowed his eyes; he liked it better when Remus was angry. "What's so funny?"

"Y-you-" Remus tried, then laughed again, clutching his stomach. "Forgotten how it feels?"

"What?"

"Girl's swooning over you?"

"Nobody's swooning," Sirius said shortly.

"Oh, Sirius," Remus said, his voice high-pitched, "marry me!"

"Nobody's marrying me!"

"Ever?"

"Ever!" Then Sirius paused and shook his head. "I take that back."

Remus laughed some more. "I think the goblin was eyeing you, too."

"What did you want?" Sirius asked, his jaw clenched. "You dragged me through...through that," he added, pointing to the door, "so'd you better have a good reason."

All of a sudden, Remus' face contorted into a look of aggrivation. "I've a good reason all right. What are you playing at, closing Hogwarts?"

"I didn't close it, Fudge did."

"Aren't you his advisor?"

"One of them."

"Didn't you try to persuade him? Hogwarts is the backbone of our country," Remus seethed. "England is not known for their outstanding Ministry, because obviously it's nothing more than a pile of rubbish. We're not known for Quidditch, because we're beat by Ireland every year. We're known for our school, and you've just closed it!"

"I didn't close it!"

"Sirius, stop pointing the blame away from you."

"Look," Sirius said, his voice dangerously low. "I fully agree with you. Fudge is a madman. After this is all over, he'll be impeached. I will bet you my Galleons that he'll be thrown out. The newspapers hate him, the people hate him, even the Minister of the Muggle world hates him. Mark my words, Remus, this administration won't be around much longer."

There was a moment of silence during which each man seemed to search the other. Sirius gazed unblinkingly into Remus' stare, penetrating the brown orbs of his eyes. He watched as Remus' shoulders slumped, a familiar and welcomed signed of resignation.

"The entire school is in an uproar," Remus said, his voice finally showing his wear. "The older students are in hysterics...even the bloody Slytherins. Younger students don't know what to do with themselves...."

Sirius was afraid to ask: "What about the staff?"

Remus inhaled deeply, then let out a soft chuckle. "You should see the look on Snape's face. Doesn't know what to think, the poor bloke. McGonagall's just brushing everyone off." Remus shook his head, his eyes heavy with sadness. "Dumbledore still has his sense. You would - you would think that he would have the hardest time with it."

"Dumbledore's a strong man," Sirius said. "The strongest."

The two pairs of eyes met again, and a silent message went between them. They both acknowledged what neither could admit; Dumbledore was strong, but how long could he last? Sirius shuddered at the thought. With everything he was facing - Death Eaters, keeping Hogwarts aground, keeping the Ministry, for the most part, together - it was getting harder for him to stay afloat. Sirius shut his eyes against the unimaginable.

Harry rolled over and tipped his blaring alarm clock onto the floor. It fell with a sickening crash, but he would fix it later, just as he did every evening. Harry squeezed his eyes together, knowing that he had to get up, but tempted all the same to stay in bed. Judging by the silence in the room, he figured Ron was still asleep. Now that Harry started to think and make sense of things, he knew sleep was out of reach.

Groggily he sat up and stretched his arms, feeling the strain on his muscles. He snatched his glasses off the side table and swung his legs so they hit the floor with a dull fwump. With his pajamas wrinkled, Harry went to Ron's bed on the other side of the room and shook his shoulder.

"Mhrr, go away Ginny," Ron said, but it was muffled by his pillow. Harry shook him again, this time harder. Ron finally rolled over and looked up at Harry. His eyes were glazed over and his hair plastered to his head.

"Morning, beautiful," Harry said dryly, then left Ron to head to the kitchen. He poured himself glass of water from the tap to sooth his dry throat. Outside, Harry saw through the window, the sun had yet to rise. A calm and cold grey settled over the gentle hills. In the far distance, Harry could see the faint and twinkling lights of Muggle London.

Finished with his water, he set the mug aside and scrounged in the cupboard for a loaf of bread. Harry cut off a few crooked slices and dumped them all on a plate, then grabbed his wand from the counter, swished, flicked, and had before him toasted bread. He snatched a piece and popped it into his mouth. He leaned against the counter, fingering his wand lightly, mentally preparing himself for what was to come.

When he had joined to become an Auror, Harry had been ready to be bruised, scratched, and exhausted beyond belief. He had not, however, been ready for the emotional strain. He was unaccustomed to being up all night, imaging himself being attacked by the shadows in his bedroom, and even though his fatigue was overwhelming, his overactive mind wouldn't allow him to sleep. It was a strange side effect that Harry experienced.He vaugely wondered if Ron had the same problems.

Presently Ron entered the kitchen, looking properly tossled after what seemed like a thin night's sleep. Without so much as a word between the two friends, Ron lifted a piece of toast, flicked his wand to put some jam on, then practicaly shoved the entire slice down. Gulping, he took another, both men leaning casually against the brown kitchen counter. Ron pushed the plate through the air with his wand. It came to a rest right before Harry's chest. Harry took a slice and gave the plate a tap. It hovered between the two.

And so they stood, eating six pieces of toast; three with jam, three plain old toast. Finally, after both had been fed and reenergized, Ron asked, "What time are we supposed to be there?"

Harry pointed his wand at the toast plate and suddenly it was scrubbing itself over the sink. "I think Mitch said five."

"And that gives us...?"

"Twenty minutes."

"Ah," Ron said, then stretched his long arms over his head, yawning his mouth wide. "No point in showering, eh?" he said, almost warily. Harry nodded his head and grabbed the plate, immediately stopping the cleaning. He stacked it in a cupboard and walked into the bedroom.

"You know," Harry said over his shoulder, "when we get to be Aurors, we're going to change things a bit."

Ron grinned. "How?"

"For one, when Hogsmeade is attacked, or some other catastrophe happens, we won't drag the students out the next morning. I mean, Merlin, does Mitch realize what happened? D'you think he just went to help at Hogsmeade, looked around," and here Harry paused to take his pajama shirt off, "and said, 'All right, let's go and practice dueling for twelve hours?'"

Ron laughed through his T-shirt as it slipped over his head. He tugged it down and glanced self-consciously at the mirror behind him, then said, "I wouldn't be surprised. Mitch and his goons were all Prefects at Hogwarts from what I hear. Head of their class, and Mitch himself was Head Boy. Bunch of loonies if you ask me."

They finished dressing, found their wands, and walked into the large living room, sparsely furnished. The both flopped on the elegant couch. Carefully, Harry pulled the drawer out of the side table. Ron held his breath. Harry withdrew, of all things, a fork. Both men looked at it as if it was the key to all their problems. Harry ran his finger down the smooth edge. He glanced at his watch, reading the complex pattern of planets and stars that would have baffled him not three months before.

"Just a few more seconds," he whispered, almost as if he was afraid he would break the shiny fork. Ron nodded, wringing his hands in his lap. Harry kept his eyes on the moving hand, flowing counterclockwise across the face of the watch. Suddenly, Harry's face brightened, and a moment before he cried, "Now!" Ron had reached his hand out to grab the fork.

Harry felt a hook behind his navel pull him, and the grey living room swirled from sight. A short time later, Harry felt himself slow. He fell forward on his knees, catching himself just before he bashed his face into the dirt. The cold air hit him like a strong wave. He adjusted his glasses and looked around.

They had landed in a clearing, which was placed in the middle of the forest. Oddly enough, the clearing was the only thing lit. The forest surrounding the clearing was nearly pitch black. Harry's eyes, now adjusted to the abnormal brightness, could tell that the clearing was artificially lit.

He and Ron were not alone, however. A tall, thick man stood to their right, his massive hands on his hips. His broad chest and stern face seemed foreboding. Mitch, Harry thought, trying not to grin. He stood quickly, brushed the dirt off his knees, and stepped next to the man.

"Potter, learn how to use the Portkey. You look like a fool, landing on your face."

Harry nodded. There was nothing one could say to that. He had learned, over the course of the past few years, that Mitch liked to say things that you couldn't answer. It was best left like that.

Ron joined them, almost as tall as Mitch but not nearly as frightening. Mitch looked him over, his blue eyes penetrating Ron's own. Mitch nodded behind him to the black forest.

"The others are out there," Mitch said, referring to their fellow trainees.

"Are we late?" Harry asked, pulling his wand out.

"No. I arranged it so that every group came at different times. Makes it a bit more fun, eh?" Both Harry and Ron forced smiles. Mitch had a twisted sense of humor. "Find those with blue badges around their arms. It tells you that they're the enemy. If you capture your allies, you're pulled from the game. There's a way of communicating that has been started, but you must figure it out by yourself. Remember...don't hurt your friends in there. In the real world, they're your only life."

"Yessir," the two men mumbled, then hurried off to the dark forest. The trees above were so tall they seemed to disappear into the darkness. While they walked, Harry dug through his mind for a lighting spell that only he would be able to see, but he couldn't find it. So he had to rely on his eyes and his ears and natural instinct. Ron and Harry walked in the dimness for nearly fifteen minutes, encountering no one.

Harry stopped and held out a hand. Ron ran into it. Both men stifled their grunts. Harry put a silencing spell around them and whispered (for a silencing spell could have holes in it), "D'you think we're lost?"

"Can't be...Mitch said anywhere in the forest."

"How big is this forest?"

"Let's keep going. I'd rather not run into anyone."

Harry laughed, wondering what Ron would do when their training was over and he really did run into someone... someone more harmful than their fellow trainees. Harry cancelled the silencing spell and they crept forward, their eyes pressed wide against the blanket of darkness. Suddenly, Harry could make out a huge, lumbering shadow. It wasn't a person - too squared.

Ron seemed to have spotted it too, because he halted next to Harry. With a look at the other in the darkness they moved closer. They walked in sync, each fully aware of the other's steps and hands. It was Ron who cast the silencing spell this time.

"Plan?"

"As always," Harry whispered. Through two years of working together, they had developed a plan for encountering others in dark areas. Ron would cast the lighting spell, and that same instant, Harry would cast the Blocking charm. It was an old charm, found by Hermione in her books. It cast an invisible wall all around Ron and Harry, including above. It was the fiercest blocking spell Harry had ever seen.

And so with their plan in mind, they reached the building. Harry found the door locked. He unlocked it with the tip of his wand. The door swung open a bit with a creak. The two pressed themselves flat against the outside wall, waiting for a spell to come shooting out of the door. Harry felt over the rough wood with his hands. The building seemed to be a shed. But in the middle of a dark forest?

When no whizzing or blinding flash came from the building, Harry pushed the door open farther and they both hurried in. Next to him, Harry heard a faint rustle and an oddly familiar squeak. Harry felt as Ron raised his hand and cast Lumos on the room. Harry immediately cast the Blocking charm. Blinking in the bright light, Harry shielded his eyes.

A voice called out. "Harry Potter has come to see me!"

Harry blinked, taking in the creature with chains around his feet. "Dobby?"

Muaha. Cookie for those who review.