Chapter Text
Harry sank onto his sofa and rubbed at his eyes. In doing so he dislodged the muggle contact lenses he had taken to wearing and had to walk half blind to the bathroom. After tossing them in the bin he placed his glasses back on his face. He looked at himself in the mirror and sighed. He felt so old, much older than his twenty-nine years.
As he was now in his bathroom, he shucked off his robes and ducked into the shower. He let the hot water pour over him until his skin felt tender with the heat.
He roughly dried himself before collapsing into bed. He was asleep within minutes.
When he woke up it earlier than his alarm would normally wake him but that was because he had forgotten to close his curtains before going to sleep. His stomach rumbled aggressively; he hadn’t eaten anything since yesterday at lunch. Harry had a quick shower and shoved some bread in the toaster. Ron was always laughing at the muggle things Harry had littered about his flat but was keen on the tv. By the time Harry had his contacts in and robes on the toast was being buttered by magic. It would be silly to do everything the muggle way.
He was behind his desk at seven thirty. Kingsley was surprised to see him when they crossed paths in the atrium.
“We could have a practice interview if you wanted?” Kingsley murmured as they entered the lift.
“No thank you, Sir. I couldn’t possibly take up your time,” he had left the lift before Kinsley had the chance to reply.
Harry was interviewing for the head auror job next Friday. He didn’t actually want the job, but Ron and Hermione had pushed him, then Kingsley had handed him the application and he didn’t feel he could refuse the Minister. He thought he wouldn’t mind being in charge in the next five to ten years, but it was too soon. There were too many other senior aurors that had been in that position for more than five years. It felt like he was jumping the queue.
He tried to push the thoughts of a possible promotion out of his head and focused on the paperwork in front of him.
“Potter,” a voice came down the corridor. He looked up to see his boss. Robards angled his head towards his office and Harry placed his quill in the ink pot on his desk and moved along the corridor quickly.
“Yes Sir?” he said when he had closed the door behind him. Robards narrowed his eyes at Harry. It was not a secret that he didn’t like Harry. Didn’t feel it was fair that Harry had been given a free pass into the office and promoted within six years. A manila folder was flung at him. Harry took that as his indication to sit. He opened the folder and felt his stomach drop.
Every now and again there would be Death Eater or some affiliation group causing havoc somewhere. He sighed.
“Don’t want the case, Potter?” Robards scoffed.
“Of course, I do,” Harry replied with an even tone, “I just wish they’d give up.”
“If it’s not Death Eaters then it’s something else. We are here because of dark magic and those who think they have the right to use it,” Harry just nodded.
“I’ll go to the hospital to speak to the witness,” Harry flicked through the rest of the papers.
“Make sure you bottle the memory. She will have to have her memory wiped,” Harry refused to let his emotions show. He fucking knew he’d have to wipe her memory. Also, he had never forgotten to bottle a memory in his whole career so why was he being reminded to do so?
“Yes Sir.” Harry nodded and stood.
“Potter,” Harry turned, “I am duty bound to offer you a preparatory interview for your real one.” His tone made it quite clear he didn’t want to do a mock interview.
“That’s kind of you to offer, Sir. I don’t want to take up your time when you’ll have to do the same for Brown and Jameson who are actually likely to get the job.”
“Why did you apply if you know others are better suited?” Robards snapped.
“I do want the job someday. It’s likely the next time it comes up that I’ll be in a good place to get it, so I wanted the interview practice. I’ve never been interviewed in front of a panel before.” He was very careful not to mention to anyone that Kingsley had basically made him apply. Robards just nodded and motioned for Harry to leave.
Ron was finally at his desk when Harry got back.
“You’re early,” Ron handed him a black coffee.
“Yes, and we need to go,” Harry tapped the folder and took a sip of coffee. Ron groaned and placed his breakfast wrap on his desk before following Harry out the door.
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Harry placed the small bottles holding his and Ron’s memories into the evidence box earmarked for their case.
The victim’s home had been magically scoured. They knew aurors would be combing the place and had done a remarkable job cleaning up after themselves. The woman in the hospital was a mess. She had been kept conscious during the attack but magically blinded so she couldn’t see her attackers. She had clearly thought there was two men, two pairs of hands holding, pushing, hitting, cutting. Harry was glad to remove some of the horrors from her mind.
Ron stepped out the room when Harry performed his memory charm. He knew that Harry didn’t follow protocol but if he didn’t see it happen, he could never be called to witness it. Harry knew from experience he couldn’t just remove the whole memory and leave her. Muggles were people too and they had the same feelings of terror that any witch or wizard faced after trauma. She wouldn’t remember being blind; she’d remember being blindfolded and she would remember being raped but Harry removed the cuts from the knives and hexes. Being raped was enough she didn’t need the details, but it would stop her from going crazy trying to remember things that were out of reach.
Harry let Ron leave ahead of him and finished off the report to be added into the case file.
“Potter,” Harry looked up and met Kinsley’s pleasant smile.
“Sir,” Harry nodded and closed the filing cabinet. He pulled his cloak off the back on his chair and shrugged it on.
“You’re here late for a Friday?”
“Oh yeah, we had a possible Death Eater case and I wanted to finish the paperwork before knocking off,” Harry replied hoping it was obvious he wanted to leave. Ron would have a cold pint waiting for him in the Leaky Cauldron and he was eager to get there.
“What made Robards think it was Death Eater?” Kingsley questioned and perched on the edge of Harry’s desk.
“The dark mark had been cut into her left forearm, Sir.”
“Hmm, okay. Listen you should really do a mock interview with myself or Robards,” when Harry raised his eyebrow at the older man he continued, “sorry, he told me you refused.”
“I just don’t want to waste anyone’s time. There at least two more qualified Seniors being interviewed. I’m really looking at the whole process as kind of a mock for when the time is right for me you know,” Harry moved to walk past Kingsley, but his arm shot out to block him. Harry held back a sigh.
“This isn’t a practice for when the time is right, Harry. You must know that” Kingsley’s voice was sharp.
“Sir, with all due respect you must know how it’ll look,” Harry pulled his arm free.
“That’s the joy of being in charge, Harry. I can do what I like and when you are Minster you can also do whatever you like. Ask Robards on Monday for a Mock. That’s an order.” Harry watching him walk down the corridor. He was seething. He didn’t want to be Minister for Magic, or the head of the auror department. He was free of Voldemort and yet he still had no control over what he was doing.
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Harry slid into the booth next to Ron half an hour later and downed half his pint in one.
“Sorry Harry, I didn’t think the paperwork would take you that long or I’d have stayed,” Ron looked guilty.
“It wasn’t the paperwork. Kingsley came by to tell me off for not accepting a mock interview from Robards,” Harry rolled his eyes and finished the rest of his pint. “I’ll go get a round in.”
He ordered pints for himself, Ron and Angus and another bottle of wine for Hermione and her two colleagues from the Department of Mysteries. He could never remember their names even though he was sure Hermione told him every time they met. He drank a finger of neat whiskey at the bar before heading back over to the table with the drinks floating in front of him.
“Thank you,” one of the women smiled at him. He simply raised his drink and cheers her. He turned to Ron and Angus and half listened to the case Angus was currently working on. When Harry had been made Senior, he couldn’t be Ron’s partner anymore and so was paired with Angus for two years until Ron made Senior.
After a couple hours Hermione decreed it home time. Harry pulled her into a hug and steadied her as she swayed on the spot.
“Get my best friend home safe, Ronald.” Harry bumped Ron’s shoulder and Ron smacked him on the arm.
“Oi, I’m your best mate and I’m sure I can get this harlot home in one piece,” he snickered at the look of mock outrage on Hermione’s face.
“You’re on the sofa,” she huffed and then allowed herself to be pulled into her husband’s arms. They disappeared with a pop.
“I think we are going to go down the road to a club,” the blonde one said.
“Well, you get yourself home safe, okay?” Harry replied and ignored the pout on her face. He turned and clapped Angus on the back before walking out into muggle London.
Harry had no intention of going home. He was far too riled up. He could feel anger flowing through his veins and his skin itched. He looked around and seeing he was alone disappeared. He had appeared outside a shop that looked decrepit. Dust covered everything in the window display. Again, he looked over his shoulder and confirming he was alone he pulled his wand, tapped the door handle and pushed the door open.
“Mr Potter,” the young girl behind the front desk yelped. Harry glanced around the small but opulent room. Deep red walls with black trim swallowed the dim lights.
“Tell Malfoy I need to see him,” he was curt, “I’ll be at the bar.” She nodded hurriedly and rushed off up the stairs to her left. Harry made right and ducked through the dark curtain which led him into the club owned by Draco Malfoy.