Aurors are the finest group of highly specialist officers that exist within the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. They are an elite fighting unit, whose primary responsibility is to investigate criminal activities related to the Dark Arts.
To become an Auror, one must undertake a rigorous series of training exercises. One must have excellent wand skills, be able to think quickly, be proficient in Charms, Potions, and must be practiced in the art of camouflage.
To be an Auror, one must dedicate themselves to constant training. One must be willing to work unconventional hours, and prepare to be called into service at a moments notice.
To be an Auror means one acknowledges they will be confronted with life and death situations, and face danger head on at every turn!
Harry Potter did not have all the necessary traits to be an Auror. But since he had basically saved all of the Wizarding World, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement made an exception for him.
In his younger days, Harry had not been one to strategically plan or deeply analyze situations; thinking several steps ahead had not been his forte. Through a series of events and prophesies, Harry Potter found himself smack dab in the center of a magical war when he was only a child. He acted on instinct to save himself and those around him. And that is how he spent most of his adolescent years.
Once he vanquished Voldemort, Harry knew he would become an Auror. He also thought, he would marry Ginny Weasley.
When the Battle of Hogwarts had been won, and he could start having a normal life, continuing the romance they had begun in school was high on Harry's list of priorities. But between her returning to Hogwarts for her final year, and the start of his Auror training, the romance was pushed aside. And when he tried to rekindle what they had started, he was too late. To ease his heartbreak, Harry threw himself into training. He excelled in the program and was now considered one of the finest Aurors at the Ministry.
Being an Auror wasn't just a job, it was a part of him. What he learned and practiced everyday was so deeply embedded into his psyche, he couldn't detached his job from his personal life. Which is, possibly, why he was the one to bring up the subject no one else seemed to be thinking of.
Harry did not want to bring him up. Harry would have been perfectly happy if he never had to see that git again in his life. He was the reason Harry and Ginny didn't end up in a happily ever after; married with a large family like they both always wanted.
But like always, his Auror instincts took over. And because his training had taught him to control his emotions, Harry knew they had to speak to the man.
The twenty eyes were still darting around, unwilling to acknowledge what he had said.
Harry sighed, rolling his eyes at their attempts to avoid the truth, and stated,"He was the last person to see Ginny before she went missing. And besides," he choked out, "he loved her".
It was a horrible room. The walls were covered in a vertical stripped wallpaper of black and pale muted green. The monstrously large furniture, with it's thick dark wood, was from the Jacobean era and was truly ghastly. The heavy curtains of dark green velvet reached from ceiling to floor and blocked out all light, giving the already imposing room a closed in feeling.
Draco hated the room.
Most days Draco Malfoy was able to ignore the rooms' existence and gave it no thought whatsoever. But then there were days like today, when the room served a very specific purpose.
When the owl arrived informing him guests would be flooing in thirty minutes time, he instructed the house elf to bring them to this room. It's oppressive nature was sure to make them uncomfortable, which means they would want to state their business and leave quickly.
He felt he was doing a spectacular job hiding the smirk lurking beneath his lips at their discomfort. He may have matured since his years at Hogwarts, but some things never change. A Malfoy getting one up on a Weasley was one of those things.
Currently, he was entertaining the patriarch and matriarch of the Weasley household, Ron (their youngest, oafish son) and his bookworm wife, the prankster George, and Harry Potter – the bane of Draco's younger existence.
None of his guests seemed eager to talk, causing a discernible tension in the air, which was broken by a tea cart of refreshments being rolled into the room. A slight flurry of activity began as finger sandwiches were passed out and tea poured.
"Thank you, Kitcher," Hermione said. The elf stared at her for a moment before mumbling a, "You're welcome", and disappearing out the door.
Draco rolled his eyes. Her kink, or whatever it was, with house elves was weird.
The awkward silence descended once more until Hermione spoke up, "So, Draco, how have you been?"
Great, he thought, small talk.
"Well," was his reply. He did not return the question.
Draco didn't consider himself a rude host. Normally, he was accommodating when guests came to visit. But these guests had flooed in, a gaggle of them, uninvited, wanting to convey some bit of news and now they seemed to be struck mute. And as much as he liked watching them squirm, he was starting to lose his patience.
"I was under the impression," he began, as he settled himself on the hideous chair by the gigantic fireplace, "there was some piece of news you wished to share." There, maybe that would get the snitch flying.
"Yes," Harry supplied, trying to swallow a bit of sandwich.
Draco wrinkled his nose. His school yard feuds with Harry, and all the others from his Hogwarts days, had ended. They were civil to each other now, and would nod their 'Hellos' and 'Goodbyes' in public, but they certainly didn't like each other. He had tried. Out of respect for his fiancée he had. He'd only been mildly successful.
"Molly received a letter today," the scar-head continued, "and we think it may be a lead."
"A lead," Draco repeated. "To what?"
Harry hesitated for a moment before saying, "To Ginny." Draco's jaw tensed and his eyes narrowed at the dark haired man sitting in front of him.
"Here," Molly said, taking two letters from her pocket, "I have them." Harry stood and took the letters from Molly's hands. It was the first words she had spoken since her arrival.
The room was quiet as Draco took the letters and read through them. When he looked up again all eyes were on him, eager to see how he would respond.
"What makes you think this woman knows anything about Ginny?" he finally asked.
"Well, you see," Harry said, glancing around the room as if to confirm what he was about to say with the others, "we think Jane is Ginny."
"I sent that letter to Ginny this morning," Mrs. Weasley said, gesturing toward one of the pieces of parchment. "You know I've been sending her letters since she disappeared. I've never gotten any response before. But today, I got that reply. And Ron, Ron saw her! And then," Mrs. Weasley continued, "she was seen at the Egyptian Museum in London!" She was beginning to fidget and her voice was getting higher and faster as she spoke. "On their own none of these things would matter much, but all of them together on the same day isn't a coincidence." She had scooted to the edge of the monstrosity his ancestors considered a couch, and was gripping her husband's hand. The look she was casting was a mixture of joy and anxiousness.
Draco spent the next several minutes sitting in his chair, listening to the events that had transpired that day. After hearing Molly go more in detail about the letters, and Ron recounting what he had seen, and hearing about the sighting at the museum, Draco was left feeling a bit numb.
"So," Harry concluded, "we knew you would want to be at the meeting tomorrow morning. We thought you could meet us there around 8:45?"
There was a slight moment of silence before Draco gave a, "No," as his simple reply.
"No?" Harry asked. "You don't want to go with us to see Ginny?"
Draco tried to control his temper.
"You aren't going to see Ginny. You're going to meet a woman named Jane Thorn. I," he sneered, "have better things to do with my day." Draco stood and shoved the parchment back to Potter. "It was lovely seeing you all again." He hoped he conveyed the appropriate amount of sarcasm. "Kitcher will show you out." And before another word could be spoken he left the room.
Draco kept his composure as his walked to his study, where he slammed the door, stalked to the bar, poured a healthy helping of Firewhisky, then collapsed on the chair behind his desk. Taking a quick drink he felt the alcohol's slight burn as it slid down his throat, before setting the glass down and resting his head back against the cushioned chair.
Draco was irritated.
Over the past few years, Mrs. Weasley would occasionally pop in. At first, it was to interrogate him over the whereabouts of her daughter. Then it was to exchange information or ideas about where she might be. Eventually, her visits became an excuse to talk about Ginny.
Once she was convinced he had nothing to do with the disappearance, Mrs. Weasley and he had become allies in their search for her. They never became close, but he developed an appreciation for the woman, and she was one of the few members of Ginny's family he didn't mind being around.
When Molly Weasley looked at him tonight with so much... hope, Draco thought, just for a second, what she was saying could be true; that Ginny was back. But after that second, common sense took over.
She had been missing three years. Draco used every resource he had to locate her, without anything turning up. There was no reason for her to have left in the first place, much less without telling a soul. One thing Draco was certain of, she didn't leave by her own free will. And his Ginny would not have docilely accepted whatever fate befell her. Which means she couldn't come back. And that could only mean something malicious. He had to move on.
He hadn't, of course. There were too many questions to ever really have closure. But he had resolved to not dwell on what almost was; the life he and she were planning. Ginevra Weasley, for reasons he still couldn't completely comprehend, was the only woman he had ever loved.
Shaking his head, Draco stopped his line of thought before his mind took him to memories he didn't want to recall. He looked at the now empty glass sitting on his desk, then at the bottle of Firewhisky on the bar.
Draco was going to get thoroughly pissed.
To become an Auror, one must undertake a rigorous series of training exercises. One must have excellent wand skills, be able to think quickly, be proficient in Charms, Potions, and must be practiced in the art of camouflage.
To be an Auror, one must dedicate themselves to constant training. One must be willing to work unconventional hours, and prepare to be called into service at a moments notice.
To be an Auror means one acknowledges they will be confronted with life and death situations, and face danger head on at every turn!
Harry Potter did not have all the necessary traits to be an Auror. But since he had basically saved all of the Wizarding World, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement made an exception for him.
In his younger days, Harry had not been one to strategically plan or deeply analyze situations; thinking several steps ahead had not been his forte. Through a series of events and prophesies, Harry Potter found himself smack dab in the center of a magical war when he was only a child. He acted on instinct to save himself and those around him. And that is how he spent most of his adolescent years.
Once he vanquished Voldemort, Harry knew he would become an Auror. He also thought, he would marry Ginny Weasley.
When the Battle of Hogwarts had been won, and he could start having a normal life, continuing the romance they had begun in school was high on Harry's list of priorities. But between her returning to Hogwarts for her final year, and the start of his Auror training, the romance was pushed aside. And when he tried to rekindle what they had started, he was too late. To ease his heartbreak, Harry threw himself into training. He excelled in the program and was now considered one of the finest Aurors at the Ministry.
Being an Auror wasn't just a job, it was a part of him. What he learned and practiced everyday was so deeply embedded into his psyche, he couldn't detached his job from his personal life. Which is, possibly, why he was the one to bring up the subject no one else seemed to be thinking of.
Harry did not want to bring him up. Harry would have been perfectly happy if he never had to see that git again in his life. He was the reason Harry and Ginny didn't end up in a happily ever after; married with a large family like they both always wanted.
But like always, his Auror instincts took over. And because his training had taught him to control his emotions, Harry knew they had to speak to the man.
The twenty eyes were still darting around, unwilling to acknowledge what he had said.
Harry sighed, rolling his eyes at their attempts to avoid the truth, and stated,"He was the last person to see Ginny before she went missing. And besides," he choked out, "he loved her".
It was a horrible room. The walls were covered in a vertical stripped wallpaper of black and pale muted green. The monstrously large furniture, with it's thick dark wood, was from the Jacobean era and was truly ghastly. The heavy curtains of dark green velvet reached from ceiling to floor and blocked out all light, giving the already imposing room a closed in feeling.
Draco hated the room.
Most days Draco Malfoy was able to ignore the rooms' existence and gave it no thought whatsoever. But then there were days like today, when the room served a very specific purpose.
When the owl arrived informing him guests would be flooing in thirty minutes time, he instructed the house elf to bring them to this room. It's oppressive nature was sure to make them uncomfortable, which means they would want to state their business and leave quickly.
He felt he was doing a spectacular job hiding the smirk lurking beneath his lips at their discomfort. He may have matured since his years at Hogwarts, but some things never change. A Malfoy getting one up on a Weasley was one of those things.
Currently, he was entertaining the patriarch and matriarch of the Weasley household, Ron (their youngest, oafish son) and his bookworm wife, the prankster George, and Harry Potter – the bane of Draco's younger existence.
None of his guests seemed eager to talk, causing a discernible tension in the air, which was broken by a tea cart of refreshments being rolled into the room. A slight flurry of activity began as finger sandwiches were passed out and tea poured.
"Thank you, Kitcher," Hermione said. The elf stared at her for a moment before mumbling a, "You're welcome", and disappearing out the door.
Draco rolled his eyes. Her kink, or whatever it was, with house elves was weird.
The awkward silence descended once more until Hermione spoke up, "So, Draco, how have you been?"
Great, he thought, small talk.
"Well," was his reply. He did not return the question.
Draco didn't consider himself a rude host. Normally, he was accommodating when guests came to visit. But these guests had flooed in, a gaggle of them, uninvited, wanting to convey some bit of news and now they seemed to be struck mute. And as much as he liked watching them squirm, he was starting to lose his patience.
"I was under the impression," he began, as he settled himself on the hideous chair by the gigantic fireplace, "there was some piece of news you wished to share." There, maybe that would get the snitch flying.
"Yes," Harry supplied, trying to swallow a bit of sandwich.
Draco wrinkled his nose. His school yard feuds with Harry, and all the others from his Hogwarts days, had ended. They were civil to each other now, and would nod their 'Hellos' and 'Goodbyes' in public, but they certainly didn't like each other. He had tried. Out of respect for his fiancée he had. He'd only been mildly successful.
"Molly received a letter today," the scar-head continued, "and we think it may be a lead."
"A lead," Draco repeated. "To what?"
Harry hesitated for a moment before saying, "To Ginny." Draco's jaw tensed and his eyes narrowed at the dark haired man sitting in front of him.
"Here," Molly said, taking two letters from her pocket, "I have them." Harry stood and took the letters from Molly's hands. It was the first words she had spoken since her arrival.
The room was quiet as Draco took the letters and read through them. When he looked up again all eyes were on him, eager to see how he would respond.
"What makes you think this woman knows anything about Ginny?" he finally asked.
"Well, you see," Harry said, glancing around the room as if to confirm what he was about to say with the others, "we think Jane is Ginny."
"I sent that letter to Ginny this morning," Mrs. Weasley said, gesturing toward one of the pieces of parchment. "You know I've been sending her letters since she disappeared. I've never gotten any response before. But today, I got that reply. And Ron, Ron saw her! And then," Mrs. Weasley continued, "she was seen at the Egyptian Museum in London!" She was beginning to fidget and her voice was getting higher and faster as she spoke. "On their own none of these things would matter much, but all of them together on the same day isn't a coincidence." She had scooted to the edge of the monstrosity his ancestors considered a couch, and was gripping her husband's hand. The look she was casting was a mixture of joy and anxiousness.
Draco spent the next several minutes sitting in his chair, listening to the events that had transpired that day. After hearing Molly go more in detail about the letters, and Ron recounting what he had seen, and hearing about the sighting at the museum, Draco was left feeling a bit numb.
"So," Harry concluded, "we knew you would want to be at the meeting tomorrow morning. We thought you could meet us there around 8:45?"
There was a slight moment of silence before Draco gave a, "No," as his simple reply.
"No?" Harry asked. "You don't want to go with us to see Ginny?"
Draco tried to control his temper.
"You aren't going to see Ginny. You're going to meet a woman named Jane Thorn. I," he sneered, "have better things to do with my day." Draco stood and shoved the parchment back to Potter. "It was lovely seeing you all again." He hoped he conveyed the appropriate amount of sarcasm. "Kitcher will show you out." And before another word could be spoken he left the room.
Draco kept his composure as his walked to his study, where he slammed the door, stalked to the bar, poured a healthy helping of Firewhisky, then collapsed on the chair behind his desk. Taking a quick drink he felt the alcohol's slight burn as it slid down his throat, before setting the glass down and resting his head back against the cushioned chair.
Draco was irritated.
Over the past few years, Mrs. Weasley would occasionally pop in. At first, it was to interrogate him over the whereabouts of her daughter. Then it was to exchange information or ideas about where she might be. Eventually, her visits became an excuse to talk about Ginny.
Once she was convinced he had nothing to do with the disappearance, Mrs. Weasley and he had become allies in their search for her. They never became close, but he developed an appreciation for the woman, and she was one of the few members of Ginny's family he didn't mind being around.
When Molly Weasley looked at him tonight with so much... hope, Draco thought, just for a second, what she was saying could be true; that Ginny was back. But after that second, common sense took over.
She had been missing three years. Draco used every resource he had to locate her, without anything turning up. There was no reason for her to have left in the first place, much less without telling a soul. One thing Draco was certain of, she didn't leave by her own free will. And his Ginny would not have docilely accepted whatever fate befell her. Which means she couldn't come back. And that could only mean something malicious. He had to move on.
He hadn't, of course. There were too many questions to ever really have closure. But he had resolved to not dwell on what almost was; the life he and she were planning. Ginevra Weasley, for reasons he still couldn't completely comprehend, was the only woman he had ever loved.
Shaking his head, Draco stopped his line of thought before his mind took him to memories he didn't want to recall. He looked at the now empty glass sitting on his desk, then at the bottle of Firewhisky on the bar.
Draco was going to get thoroughly pissed.
To Be Continued.
Rhianna is the author of 2 other stories.
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