Chapter Text
Ernest Fawley, head of the Aurors, twitched an eyebrow in obvious irritation. Ivan Thompson, a new recruit who had just completed his training a year behind Harry, already seemed determined to test his patience for the third time that week. It was Thursday.
He had much the same attitude as Ron, who had wisely quit before they had even sat their final exams and received their official appointments. From the outside, the life of an Auror looked full of adventure and glorious heroism, but reality quickly proved otherwise. The job was built on rigid structures, procedures, planning, reports, and an overwhelming amount of knowledge to master.
Harry had no intention of being a hypocrite by pretending that he enjoyed that part himself. He definitely preferred the occasional moments of action. Still, strong motivation had taught him to accept the more tedious aspects of the job, and for over a year now he had been carrying out his calling successfully. Though every now and then, he still earned an irritated twitch of the Commander's eyebrow.
Thanks to the Silencing Charms, there was no way to overhear the scolding his colleague was currently receiving. It wasn't difficult to guess what it was about, though.
The laws of magical Britain were often illogical, contradictory, or unnecessarily complicated, and with magic and its countless consequences woven into everyday life, every case reported to the Aurors seemed serious at first glance. People raised outside the magical world, like Harry and his new colleague, could easily fall into the habit of treating everything as an emergency and, in a hurry, accidentally breaking one procedure or another.
At first, Harry had often needed to rein in his impulsive hero instincts. He also had no hesitation in giving Hermione and Percy credit for motivating him to thoroughly learn the entire body of magical law.
Ivan dropped heavily into the chair beside Harry and let his head fall onto his folded arms. A few of the nearby Aurors glanced over at his dramatic display before returning to their work.
"This is ridiculous! You can't even move around this Ministry without annoying someone!" He glanced at Harry. "Unless you're you, apparently," he added bitterly.
"That's not true." Harry frowned. "I went through the same training as you, and I follow the same rules." He didn't like it when people dismissed the effort he'd put in.
"Yeah, sure. But even if you didn't, nobody would give you a hard time. You'll probably be the first of the post-war recruits to get promoted!"
Was Ivan right? Unfortunately, he might have been. As always, it all depended on the public mood at the time. Since the war, public opinion had rarely turned against Harry and never for long.
Meanwhile, the Ministry remained almost as corrupt and prejudiced as ever. Kingsley's brief time as temporary Minister for Magic had been enough to bring the Death Eaters to justice and begin the rebuilding process, but not to introduce the real changes the Ministry needed.
The next Minister, whose politics were much closer to Fudge's, focused more on keeping the public satisfied and securing support.
Harry wanted to change that somehow, even if he was far from being a politician. Maybe if he really was promoted, even if not entirely on merit, he could gain some influence beyond his fame.
Before Harry could put together a proper reply, the Auror Office was flooded with interdepartmental memos. Most of them neatly sorted themselves into a pile in the middle of the central worktable. There was one obvious exception. It flew through the small window in the door and landed inside the Commander's office.
Everyone headed over without much hurry. This kind of message usually meant routine, uninteresting assignments. Anything more exciting would never simply end up on the shared worktable. The Commander confirmed as much a moment later when he stepped out of his office with the memo in hand.
"Baddock. Potter. Dawson. My office." As always, he kept it short, gesturing for them to follow him inside. That gave Harry hope for a more interesting afternoon.
Cole Dawson had started at the same time as Harry, but his strengths leaned much more towards theory, which meant he complemented Harry well. Harry, despite his best efforts, had never learned to enjoy studying from books. Victoria Baddock, on the other hand, was a more experienced Auror, the kind who was always required on teams of young recruits.
None of them had worked with her before, however, so they clearly hadn't all been called in because of a complaint.
"We've got a routine report of suspicious activity in the Forbidden Forest, along with a few suspicious break-ins at one of the school's greenhouses," the Commander began as soon as the door closed. "The break-ins are nothing serious, probably just a student, but the forest still needs to be checked, even if the report came from the centaurs." He grimaced. Like many people in positions of authority at the Ministry, the Commander had his own prejudices.
"I should point out that the centaurs aren't exactly fond of me," Harry admitted reluctantly. He didn't want this opportunity to slip through his fingers, but the centaurs had started recognising him after he had wandered onto their territory far too often during his school years and, much to his complete disgust, had come to associate him with what had happened with Umbridge. They had been completely unwilling to speak to him when he tried to reach out after the war.
"That doesn't matter. You won't even have to go near them," the Commander said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Our liaison to the centaurs has already passed on everything we need to know."
The Commander quickly moved on to explaining the core of the problem. The centaurs had been watching signs of someone's presence in the forest for a month already. No one had managed to catch anyone, which was exactly what made the situation so suspicious. They had found traces of human footprints and occasionally even heard the intruder, but whoever it was had remained impossible to find.
At the same time, over the past week, three separate thefts had been discovered in one of Hogwarts' greenhouses used by the older students. This case, very likely completely unrelated, had nevertheless finally forced the Ministry to deal with the issue, since the report now involved Hogwarts staff and, more importantly, wizards. They would not be going to Hogwarts until tomorrow morning; today, they were simply receiving the documents with the details of the case.
Harry sighed quietly. Apparently, he was in for an afternoon full of paperwork.
* * *
Going out for coffee with Percy after work had become an important part of Harry's week. Or rather, parts. More often than not, they met more than once a week.
Harry didn't actually care much for coffee, but he liked Percy Weasley very much. After the war, Percy had struggled to fit back in with his family, weighed down by regret over his actions. Harry, meanwhile, had struggled to find his place in society at all. Both of them were often dragged along to family meetings, and more than once they ended up sitting together somewhere out of the way, avoiding attention. They both also felt guilty about Fred's death.
Although it wasn't entirely rational, Harry felt guilty about every death in the war, convinced that he could have ended it better and sooner. Percy, meanwhile, had told him in confidence that he suspected one of his spells had weakened the structure before it eventually collapsed on his brother. Watching George struggle with his grief didn't help either of them much.
Being around each other did, though, so they started meeting occasionally outside the Weasleys' family home. Percy gave Harry some peace, but also a chance to get away from the constant reminders of the war, since, for better or worse, he had barely taken part in it. They also grew closer after Ron left the Auror programme, leaving Harry without any friends at the Ministry.
Finding support in Percy while dealing with all the studying, Harry realised just how much he had underestimated him. Somewhere along the way, he had forgotten that Percy had earned twelve NEWTs, even more than Hermione, reading books just as much as she did, though on somewhat different subjects. On top of that, having grown up in a magical family and worked at the Ministry for years, Percy had a perspective Harry lacked, and they turned out to have surprisingly interesting conversations.
Sometimes Harry found himself wishing Percy had been with them years ago when they were hunting for the Horcruxes. Every now and then, he caught himself thinking, with some irony, that Percy would at least have been more helpful than Ron, usually regretting such ungrateful thoughts almost immediately.
They sat opposite each other on colourful, padded chairs in a cosy little magical café that had recently opened on Diagon Alley. They usually went into the Muggle world, but today it was later than usual, with no time to change or walk around London.
"...So we're going to Hogwarts tomorrow. I'm not sure what to think about it. I've been there so many times since the war that I'm perfectly fine with it, but it's always strange. Lately, I've started dreaming about it all the time. Not nightmares, just... walking around the grounds or the forest." Harry took another bite of cake. Unfortunately, it wasn't treacle tart, which wasn't available. And knowing the wizarding community, it probably would be available soon, just because he'd shown up here. Even if he didn't say anything. His love of treacle tart was common knowledge.
"You do look tired," Percy said, setting his coffee cup down neatly as always before he continued. "I didn't want to say anything when you hadn't mentioned it, but the dark circles under your eyes have been getting worse for the past few weeks. Are you sure you're getting enough sleep?"
"I sleep through the whole night!" Harry replied defensively. "Besides, I don't have those dreams every day, and like I said, they're not nightmares. They're very peaceful, and honestly, I'd take them over what I was dreaming about before!"
Percy gave him a worried look but didn't say anything more about it.
"Mum's inviting you to dinner on Saturday. Dad stopped me in the corridor today, and I didn't have time to come up with an excuse."
Now it was Harry's turn to look worried. Percy had never felt completely comfortable with his family again, especially his parents and George. His older brothers had been somewhat removed from the family drama for years, while Ron and Ginny tried to be polite for Harry's sake.
"We can sit together at the side again", he suggested. "We haven't finished our last puzzle yet."
Magical puzzles had turned out to be surprisingly fun for both of them. Percy liked solving the puzzles and putting everything together in the right order, while Harry was too impatient to do them on his own, but really enjoyed working on them with Percy and absolutely loved seeing the finished result. Once finished, the puzzle came to life, creating a moving picture or sometimes even coming out of the frame and floating in the air. All of it was surrounded by colourful sparks and triumphant music that played when the puzzle was complete. Harry loved magic.
Percy, however, shook his head. "Dad mentioned that Andromeda is coming with Teddy. Our puzzle will be too difficult for a two-year-old, and you should spend some time with him."
"Really? That's wonderful!" Harry brightened at the news. He loved his godson very much, and spending time with him was always one of the many little flashes of happiness in his life at the moment. "In that case, we can read to him together! He'll like having different voices, and you're better at that than I am."
For his efforts, he received a shy smile.
"Thank you, Harry. It would be much more unbearable without you."
Harry leaned across the table, intending to offer Percy some kind of physical comfort, but he didn't get the chance. Instead, he flinched when a loud squeal and laughter suddenly filled the café. He quickly caught the plate that was almost knocked off the table and, already knowing what was coming, turned towards the group of teenagers who had just entered the café.
"Harry Potter! You're Harry Potter, right!?" They pushed past each other a little as they made their way towards him. Harry decided that this didn't really require an answer and just sighed before putting on a neutral, friendly expression. It happened from time to time, and being particularly unfriendly certainly wouldn't make his life any easier. He could already imagine the sensational headlines about poor fans being insulted.
"Will you sign this for me?" Someone held out something that looked like a diary.
"Will you sign them all for us?" someone shouted from the back of the group.
It seemed Harry had just been unlucky enough to run into a larger group of friends. He gave Percy an apologetic look. Percy was already picking up his things, clearly uncomfortable.
"I'll wait for you outside," he said, moving closer so he wouldn't be overheard, then hurried out.
An excited giggle came from the small crowd.
"Is he your boyfriend!?"
"No," Harry cut in quickly. The last thing he needed was rumours like that spreading around. Percy would probably start avoiding him. And Mrs Weasley, who had quickly regained her full trust in the newspapers after the war, would certainly make a huge fuss. And not in a good way. "Where do you want me to sign?" It was probably best to change the subject.
Several pieces of parchment, notebooks, and other things were pushed into his hands, along with a very magical-looking pen. One of the leftovers from the post-war boom in Muggle objects. One of the very few that had actually caught on.
This was going to take a while.
When Harry finally managed to leave the café, he was pleased to see that Percy was still waiting for him. Together, they headed towards the Leaky Cauldron, ducking as a miniature Quidditch set flew over their heads, having just escaped from the toy shop. Quite a few heads turned their way as they walked, but luckily no one else seemed willing to stop what they were doing just to bother him.
"Merlin, I wish I'd had toys like these when I was a kid." Looking at the magical toy shops was probably the most nostalgic thing for Harry. He would likely have grown up with them if he'd been raised by his parents or Sirius. Instead, he hadn't even had a Muggle toy of his own.
"They're not actually that great." Percy stopped for a moment as well to look at the shop window. "They're made so that the magic wears off over time, so you have to buy new ones or bring them back for repairs. And most of them don't do anything without magic. They're mostly moving figures and clever tricks."
"Did you ever have one?"
They finally moved on, walking slowly.
"I didn't, but I remember Charlie did. It's one of my earliest memories. Ron and Ginny weren't born yet, and before any of us went to Hogwarts, Mum and Dad had more money." Percy frowned, always sensitive about his family's finances. "It was still quite an expense, but Charlie became obsessed with one of those dragon toys that move like real ones. In the end, Mum and Dad gave in and bought him one for his birthday."
"And? Did it break?"
"It was a complete disaster. After a few months, the dragon started flying for less and less time, and lower and lower, then it stopped breathing fire. And six months after his birthday, Charlie was screaming and crying that his dragon was dead." They both grimaced sympathetically at the thought of little Charlie. "Of course, Mum and Dad couldn't afford to have it repaired."
"So what kind of toys did you have, if not things like these?"
"Mostly soft toys or things with simple charms for colour or sound. And games and books we shared. Usually second-hand, because magical games are expensive. For example, our chess set was passed down from our grandparents."
"And your favourite toy?" Harry smiled when he saw an embarrassed blush spreading across Percy's cheeks. "Apart from books and chess," he added quickly.
They stopped again, this time right in front of the bricked-up end of the alley.
"I had a stuffed mooncalf. I called him Giles," Percy began hesitantly. "When I was little, I took him everywhere and learned to read by reading him stories aloud."
"Do you still have him?"
"No. When I was ten and didn't play with him much anymore, Mum and Dad gave him to Ginny. She didn't take him to Hogwarts, and I'm not sure what happened to him after that."
"That doesn't seem fair." Harry frowned.
"I... well... That was normal for us. Mum and Dad couldn't afford to buy that many new toys, and I was going to Hogwarts soon anyway, so I'd have left him at home..." Percy turned to the wall and entered the code that opened the passage into the pub.
Harry quickly followed him inside. It was too cramped and noisy to carry on the conversation. All he could do was let Percy drop the subject.
"I'll see you the day after tomorrow for dinner?" Harry gave Percy a brief hug goodbye.
Percy nodded and threw some Floo powder into the fireplace.
"See you then, Harry. Tell me if everything is all right at Hogwarts." He stepped into the fire and disappeared in a swirl of green flames.
Harry didn't stay long either. Soon afterwards, he returned to his empty home.
* * *
The morning on the Hogwarts grounds was crisp. Dew covered the grass, soaking the hems of the robes of the three Aurors making their way towards the school. They didn't go inside the castle, as there was no reason to disturb the students at breakfast. Instead, they met Professor Sprout by Greenhouse Five.
"Quickly, quickly! We have to finish everything before lessons start. I've got fourth-years in half an hour." Professor Sprout turned the huge key in the lock and let them into the humid greenhouse.
"Huh." Auror Baddock sighed heavily and immediately rolled up her sleeves to her elbows. "I didn't miss this."
"Ahem." All three of them were met with an unimpressed look from Pomona Sprout.
"Sorry." Baddock quickly pulled her sleeves back down like a chastised student.
They went further into the greenhouse together. They passed the moving tangle of Venomous Tentacula, pots full of Honking Daffodils that were, thankfully, asleep, and Bouncing Bulbs kept behind bars. Finally, they reached the back corner, where a huge, low planter had been turned into something resembling a swamp. Unremarkable-looking plants grew there, with thin, spindle-shaped stems and large, drooping leaves, between which small, open green pods could be seen.
"This is a Sopophorous," Professor Sprout said proudly, "which you should all know about," she added jokingly. "Over the past week, it's lost several pods between lessons. The worst part is that whoever picked them did such a poor job that they hurt the poor thing." She gently stroked one of the leaves and lifted it, revealing the ragged remains of a torn-off stem.
"So what do you suggest?" Auror Baddock turned to Harry and Cole.
"We could probably set up some kind of alarm."
"By the time anyone came to investigate, the thief would have had time to get away." Dawson's idea did not meet with his superior's approval.
"What about something combined with a trap?" At Harry's suggestion, Baddock waved a hand invitingly.
"Then you two get to work. I'll collect the information for the report." She pulled Professor Sprout aside to question her.
They looked at each other awkwardly.
"Any ideas?" Harry knew that when it came to knowledge of rare spells or herbology, he was better off relying on Cole.
In the end, Harry carefully followed his colleague's instructions, taking care not to get the magic too close to the delicate plant. By the time they finished, he was dripping with sweat from the heat and the stress. Professor Sprout would have skinned him alive if he'd damaged her precious plant. Leaving the greenhouse was a relief for everyone.
"Let us know if you catch anyone." Auror Baddock shook Professor Sprout's hand before leaving her to get on with her lessons, while they headed towards the Forbidden Forest.
The Forbidden Forest was probably the only part of the area that hadn't changed at all after the war. Hogsmeade had suffered during Voldemort's rule and gone through major rebuilding, while Hogwarts had, of course, been rebuilt and renovated after the Battle of Hogwarts. Even the grounds had a new hut for Hagrid, and the edges of the Black Lake had shifted slightly. Only the Forbidden Forest remained the same dark mass of trees, with uncertain paths and a complicated ecosystem.
They made their way through the forest using an advanced magical compass, with the exact coordinates entered into it beforehand. Harry felt watched the whole time, sometimes even hearing rustling following them.
He suspected he knew what it meant. Of course the centaurs couldn't let him move through their territory without keeping an eye on him. At least, he hoped it was them.
They reached the first point after several minutes of slow, difficult walking. The thick layer of leaves covering the ground had been disturbed here, forming a path. A boot print was visible in the soft earth.
"These are the freshest tracks," Baddock said. "From two nights ago. They found traces of magic here, but nothing personal, more like the traces left by magical objects. In any case, no one has cast any spells here recently, so we won't be able to identify them that way."
Cole crouched down beside the print.
"Looks completely ordinary. Unfortunately, there's no fancy brand or unusual style. We probably all have a pair like this at home." He carefully stood up again, making sure not to disturb the print. "Although probably a woman, judging by the size," he added.
"That's a stereotype," Harry objected, sneaking a glance at Auror Baddock's boots and then at his own. They were the complete opposite. He looked around the forest. "Another trap?"
"No point. Whoever it is doesn't walk in the same place twice."
The investigation didn't seem to be going anywhere. There wasn't much else they could do apart from setting up guards around the clock, something neither the creatures in the forest nor the Ministry would ever agree to. Besides, whoever it was hadn't actually done anything illegal yet. The forest didn't officially belong to Hogwarts, and the creatures' rights to the territory were rather loosely defined. So walking through it, even in such suspicious circumstances, wasn't punishable. At most, it might lead to a few uncomfortable questions.
They checked the other marked locations as well, but didn't get much more out of them. Apparently, the intruder alternated between several different pairs of shoes, all of them completely ordinary. There was no pattern to their movements either; they moved around quite randomly. They also Apparated to and from the forest, judging by the characteristic, slightly blurred marks at the beginning and end of the paths. So at least it wasn't a student.
As they made their way back towards the castle, tired and scratched after hours of pushing through the bushes, Harry suddenly recognised the place they were passing through. The small clearing where Voldemort had killed him more than two years ago was more overgrown now, as if the forest's creatures avoided it, but it was still recognisable. There were the two trees Hagrid had been tied between, and the small rise in the ground where Voldemort had stood with the Death Eaters behind him.
Harry felt a shiver run down his back. It was a good thing it was still daylight and there was a layer of autumn leaves on the ground, because he certainly didn't want any reminders of that moment, with everything looking too similar. Even so, it was hard to simply turn around and keep going. He could already see his companions getting impatient with the unexpected pause.
He had taken barely two steps when he felt himself step on something. It felt like a small, round stone. In any other part of the forest, he wouldn't have given it a second thought. But considering where he was, he hesitated before looking down, carefully pushing the leaves aside with his boot. He was almost certain he knew what he would find. Suddenly, the sound of his own breathing and the crackling leaves seemed strangely loud.
And there it was. The Resurrection Stone. Exactly where he had thrown it. It glinted slightly in the sunlight coming through the trees. Suddenly, he felt completely drawn to it. And exposed. Using all his willpower, he quickly looked away before he could be tempted to reach for it. More tempted than he already was, anyway. He kicked it gently to the side without looking, then pushed the leaves back over it. Even before he started moving again, he had made up his mind. It was better to let the stone remain forgotten.