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SIYE Time:22:50 on 19th April 2024
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Harry Potter and the Ministry Awakening
By AnnieJ

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Category: Post-DH/AB
Characters:All
Genres: Action/Adventure, Comedy, Drama, Fluff, General, Humor, Romance, Tragedy
Warnings: Dark Fiction, Death, Disturbing Imagery, Extreme Language, Mental Abuse, Mild Language, Mild Sexual Situations, Negative Alcohol Use, Sexual Situations, Violence, Violence/Physical Abuse
Rating: R
Reviews: 6
Summary: Following the aftermath of the Battle of Hogwarts, everyone is coming to terms with the events that took place and struggling to make a life in the world left behind. Harry and Ron train to become aurors and are soon heading a team to locate escaped Death Eaters. As they travel the globe, Ginny returns to Hogwarts where she runs into a friend she had thought was lost forever. Together they realize that while Harry and Ron may be continents away, they are in desperate need of help that Ginny can provide.
Hitcount: Story Total: 3244



Disclaimer: Harry Potter Publishing Rights © J.K.R. Note the opinions in this story are my own and in no way represent the owners of this site. This story subject to copyright law under transformative use. No compensation is made for this work.



Author's Notes:
Although I've lurked on the site for years, this is my first try at writing my own fic. I will hopefully be making regular updates and already have several chapters completed. Please review and let me know your thoughts :-)




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Beneath his invisibility cloak, Harry Potter strode through the halls of the Ministry of Magic away from the Wizengamot chamber. He narrowly dodged the numerous witches and wizards rushing through the corridors. His body still ached from the wounds he’d received during the battle and crashing into someone did not sound like it would be a pleasant affair. Having lived the last several years of his life moving frequently beneath the cloak, Harry was used to it, but he was looking forward to a life where he wouldn’t have to hide himself on a regular basis.

Harry contemplated the events of the last four days as he entered the stairway and climbed to the next level to catch one of the lifts. Immediately following the Battle of Hogwarts, the Wizarding world had begun to churn in chaos — although it was notably an ecstatic kind of chaos. The government system lay in a shambles after Voldemort’s followers were usurped. The governmental fabric was held together only by the dedication of acting Minister of Magic Kingsley Shackelbolt and his carefully selected inner circle, which Harry, Ron and Hermione were a part of. While many Death Eaters had been captured, even more had somehow managed to escape.

The Aurors who were standing unharmed after the battle were spread so thinly that they were scarcely able to hunt down the Death Eaters who had resisted capture. Most of the Aurors had received some kind of injury during the battle and many had not made it through alive. The Ministry had begun heavy recruitment campaigns for young witches and wizards to join the ranks.

As for Harry, Ron and Hermione, they had been spending most of their time in legal hearings, giving depositions and talking to all manner of Ministry officers to describe what had happened in the past year.

Harry reached the lifts and stepped into the only vacant one. He felt the lift jerk into motion as he ascended to the Atrium. When he arrived at the atrium, he stepped out of the lift and prepared himself to dodge quickly through the masses of people. Ever since Voldemort’s downfall, the Ministry had been overcome with witches and wizards requesting assistance to rebuild their homes, seek reparations for the losses they incurred in the war and — sadly — even some who tried to use the situation to make a profit. As he made his way across the atrium to the fireplaces to Floo back to the Burrow, Harry caught snippets of conversation.

“Can you believe it? Harry Potter his own self come to stand for Narcissa Malfoy!” A short brunette witch in a tattered gray robe was saying to a blonde witch in a dark blue robe. They scurried through the Atrium toward the lift and disappeared as Harry’s ears caught the end of another passing conversation.

“Sad state of it, really,” said an older wizard with gray hair. He was shaking his head and speaking to a wizard who could’ve been his grandson. “Hogwarts will never be the same. Not after all that’s happened.” The man and the boy were sitting on a bench to the side of the reception desks. The old man looked frail and more tired than Harry felt.

Harry reached the fireplace and stepped in line. The witch ahead of him was staring in awe around the atrium. Her long black hair was plaited into a braid that hung down to the middle of her back. She looked oddly familiar to Harry and he guessed she must have gone to Hogwarts, though he couldn’t think of her name. When her turn came, she stepped into the fireplace and yelled “Diagon Alley!” before disappearing in a burst of green flame. Harry stepped into the fireplace quickly, to avoid clashing with another person, shouted “The Burrow!” and left the wizard who had just stepped up to the fireplace staring agape at the seemingly useless burst of flames.

Harry stumbled out of the fireplace in the kitchen of the Burrow and found himself greeted by nothing more than the sounds of the dishes in the sink clinking together as they scrubbed themselves clean. Harry removed the Invisibility Cloak and walked up the stairs to the room he and Ron shared. Upon entering the room, he stepped over the miscellaneous articles of clothing, books and chess pieces strewn haphazardly across the floor. He flopped himself down on his cot and stared up at the ceiling. Entranced by the uncommon quiet of The Burrow and his own exhaustion, Harry drifted off to sleep.

His dreams came upon him, bringing flashes of scenes from the very recent past. First came the nightmare that had been plaguing him most often in the last week, an image of Molly Weasley sitting in the Great Hall, holding the lifeless body of Fred, tears pouring down her face. Next came the image from after the final battle of Hermione and Ron standing on either side of him, supporting him as they walked from the headmaster’s office toward the Great Hall. Their faces were set, caught somewhere between exhaustion, triumph and grief. The scene changed to an image of Ginny, lying on the grass behind the Burrow, staring up into the sky with one of Fred’s shirts clenched in her right hand.

Harry tossed and turned in his bed as his subconscious struggled to hold onto the image of the beautiful redhead only to have it fade into a montage of scene after scene of courtroom trials and press conferences. First was a press conference with every Wizarding newspaper from around the globe. Even in his dream, Harry felt the anxious fear of that moment clenching his sides and the desire to run filled his heart. Another scene replaced the press conference — a trial for Stan Shunpike. Hermione, Ron and Harry all stood in front of the Wizengamot testifying to free the formerly imperiused Wizard. Stan’s face was twisted with tears and Hermione was giving a moving speech in his favor as the scene dissolved again. Harry saw the scene from earlier that day; he was standing again in front of the Wizengamot, defending Narcissa Malfoy as Draco watched from the audience, tears flowing freely from his eyes, his left hand clenched in his hair as he watched Harry defend his mother against the court.

“Harry!” said a male voice from somewhere outside of himself. “Harry, wake up!” He felt a strong hand on his shoulder shaking him gently. He awoke to see his best mates, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger staring at him with concerned looks on their faces.

“You were dreaming again, Harry?” Hermione asked gently as she sat down on the cot by his knees and, much like a concerned mother, placed her hand on top of his. Harry nodded dazedly as Ron and Hermione exchanged an anxious glance.

“Mum is going to be home soon, mate,” Ron said solemnly, moving across the room to sit on his bed. He sighed heavily as he rested his hands on his knees. “They’ve finalized all of the arrangements for tomorrow.” Harry’s eyes widened and he sat up in the bed as he realized what day it was.

“The funeral is tomorrow,” Harry stated, peering directly at Ron, who nodded his head slowly. Hermione stood and moved to sit beside Ron, placing her left hand on his leg. Harry looked up at the ceiling. “Where is everyone right now?” He directed the question to no one in particular.

“George and Ginny are still at the flat above the store. Mum and Dad are at Auntie Muriel’s. Bill, Fleur, Charlie and Percy are picking up the things we need for tomorrow,” Ron answered. He took a deep breath, stood up and began to pace about the room. Hermione watched him nervously as she sat on his bed. Now it was Harry’s turn to exchange an apprehensive glance with Hermione.

“How did the trial go, Harry?” Hermione asked, obviously trying to change the subject to, if not a happy thought, a less gloomy one at the least.

“Alright, I guess. I didn’t really want to stick around to hear the ruling, but I decided to anyway.” Harry said with another glance at Ron who continued to pace about the room. “I figured it was the least I could do, seeing as she basically saved my life and helped to bring down Voldemort.” Hermione nodded as Harry continued, “They all got off. Narcissa and Lucius will be under observation by the Aurors for the rest of their lives of course.” As Harry said this, Ron grunted and turned to the window. With another glance toward Hermione, Harry continued. “They get to keep their home and everything though. Of course, that is all with the contingency that the Aurors and Magical Law Enforcement will do a complete stripping of Malfoy manor, their Gringotts vault and other properties to ensure that absolutely no dark artifacts are left behind. Draco’s gotten off completely.”

“It’s bollocks!” Ron suddenly shouted. He was standing by the window looking out onto the lawn, his hands gripping the windowpane tightly. “We sacrifice everything!” he said, spinning to face Harry and Hermione. His eyes were wild and his face was as red as his hair. “We sacrifice everything and that ferret gets to go on living in his mansion, happy as ever while my brother,” Ron choked on the words, “while my brother is being — being put in the grou-ground tomorrow!” He sank to his knees and began to shake with anger. Hermione rushed to his side. She knelt beside him and rubbed his back as his anger turned to sobs that raked through his body. “It’s not fair!” He looked up at Harry, the tears welling in his eyes. “Harry, it’s just not fair.” At this, Ron let go of all reserve and let the tears flow freely. He let Hermione hold him, as tears began to roll down her own cheeks.

“Ron,” Harry said, walking slowly over to where his friends sat on the floor. “Ron, I’m so sorry.” He put a hand on his friend’s shoulder as he sat down beside him. He wrapped his arms around Ron and Hermione and the three of them sat there, for what felt like hours, holding onto each other, building their strength up as they helped Ron to let go of each tear.
Reviews 6
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