Chapter three: A Meeting With the Minister

"Ah, Harry!" Kingsley exclaimed as he opened the door. He ushered the four into the classroom that he had acquired as a temporary office. Harry looked around; there were papers over many of the desks, and a large pile of letters being automatically answered by an extravagant-looking peacock quill- something that struck Harry as odd. Kingsley Shacklebolt didn't seem the type to own such a thing, let alone use it.

"Hmph!" Kingsley exclaimed, following Harry's gaze. "Revolting, isn't it? I found it in the back of the desk drawer." Then it hit Harry: they were in the old Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom- the quill must have been a forgotten relic of Lockhart's. It was hardly surprising that he hadn't realised straight away, he mused, when he had studied DADA, the lessons were taken down in the dungeons with...with Snape. In fact, the last time he had been in this particular classroom was with...

"Umbridge!" he exclaimed. "What...?"

Kingsley nodded curtly to him. "On the run. Has been since word made it to the Ministry that Voldemort was gone. I doubt that she even knows who's in charge now," he added, a grim smile spreading unusually across his face. "Four Aurors are trailing her. She'll be in custody by sunrise tomorrow."

"You're sure?" Hermione asked. She looked both worried and satisfied. Harry briefly wondered how this was possible.

"Hermione, the woman couldn't hide if her life depended on it- which in a way, it does," said Ginny, smirking. "She's just too...pink."

Everybody laughed at this. Harry took a minute, picturing the toady witch at some Muggle pub, dressed in a bright pink travelling cloak, being arrested by the local police for breach of the peace and threatening patrons with a short, ugly-looking stick. When the others asked what he was grinning about, he shared this brief image with them, causing the laughter to increase, with Kingsley laughing hardest of all. He had, of course, worked with the Muggle police and knew that this scenario was entirely plausible.

"Anyway," Kingsley said, finally calming down. "You may have some idea of why I've brought you here."

"Uh...I'm not sure why I'm here," said Ron. "I mean, I wasn't much help in anyth-"

"Ron Weasley, if you continue with that sentence, I will hex you. In front of the Minister, if I have to!" This came from Hermione, who had sunk into a chair when she was laughing, but was now standing straight, her shoulders back and wand pointing directly at Ron. Her hand was shaking slightly. Ron looked up from his own chair, which he had flopped into when he came into the room, jaw dropped and staring straight at her.

"You saved Harry from that pond," she started, still pointing her wand.

"But...that wasn't-"

"You tried to save me when Bellatrix had me. You helped us as much as you could-"

"Yeah, by leav-"

"You continued fighting, no matter what had happened. You finally...you finally realised. So don't you dare tell us, Mister Weasley, that you don't know why you're here"

There were tears in her eyes as Ginny approached her, gently placing her hand on Hermione's wand arm. Hermione lowered the wand and slumped back into her chair, one hand over her eyes. Ron was staring at her, face pink and looking decidedly uncomfortable. Harry glanced at him and nodded slightly, hoping to convey to Ron that he wholeheartedly agreed with everything that she had just said.

"Ahem," Kingsley cleared his throat. "Yes, Hermione, something like that. First of all, however. Harry- your speech."

"Oh God!"

"Yes, I thought you'd react like that. I have a speech written already for you, you just have to read it. I wouldn't normally ask, Harry, but this is a highly unusual situation. Dark Lords don't get defeated every day, and the press want to hear everything."

"Skeeter." said Hermione, who still had her hand over here eyes. "Kingsley, there's something you need to know about her. She's-"

"A beetle" Kingsley finished. "We know." At Hermione's puzzled look, he grinned. "We caught her trying to fly around after the Battle. She's got to liaise with the Animagus Registry within three days, or she's in big trouble."

"Good" four voices echoed. Kingsley smiled and continued.

"You're all required to attend because I've got to present three of you, along with some others, with the Order of Merlin. Ginny, I'm sorry, I tried to get awards for you, Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood, but the Wizengamot voted against giving 'too many awards.'" Ginny waved her hand and shrugged at this. "I think that some of them were worried that giving the Order of Merlin to teenagers would cheapen their own awards, many of which were given due to donations rather than saving the Wizarding World. They agreed to Harry, but were even unwilling to recognise that Ron and Hermione had done anything much more than camping instead of going to school. I'm rather unhappy about the whole deal, to be quite frank.." He looked it too, Harry thought.

Kingsley wandered over towards the peacock quill, glanced down at a page and sighed. "There are still going to be a lot of people after your blood, Harry. Take this-" he hit the page with the back of his hand just as the quill finished its final flourish, "-letter here. Replying to someone claiming that the defeat of Voldemort could only have been completed by someone as Dark as he. She's demanding your immediate removal to Azkaban, or failing that, what she calls a 'dark, soft, secure room' in St Mungo's. I have replied stating that we will, of course, run an entire mental health test on you."

"And will you?" asked Ginny, looking worried.

"Yes, I think so," said Kingsley, slowly. "I think that a lot of people will need to be subjected to a range of tests. I learned a lot from the Muggle Prime Minister regarding the mental state of people who have been through emotional upheaval. He used an abbreviation, but I don't recall them."

"PTSD" said Hermione at once. "It stands for 'Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.' Some soldiers suffer with it, but a traumatic even of any kind can be the cause."

Kingsley looked interested. "Yes, I believe that was the term he used. Magical people can also have this, but I don't think that we have a term for it yet." He sighed again, deeply, making a different stack of letters ripple. "And then there's the Animal Rights' Groups."

Four faces looked puzzled, so much so that Kingsley had to laugh at them.

"Let's see...'RIMA'- that's the 'Rights for Indigenous Magical Animals' group...um...'VaVWAC'- nice name...Vegetarian and Vegan Wizards Against Cruelty. There's also...where is it? Ah, here...'TSAR'- I think that was genuinely started by a ten-year-old Wizard in Hull- 'Treat Snakes All Right'...there are more..."

Four faces still looked puzzled, then Ginny spoke.

"Are they...are they really...going after Neville? Going after Neville for killing You-Know-Who's snake?"

Kingsley hesitated. "Partly...but they're also attacking Harry for, hang on..." he picked up one of the letters. To Harry, it looked as though it had been written in purple crayon. " here- 'cruelly making a younger boy to kill a poor defenceless snake just because it would kill the Dark Lord.' So there you go. That's one by the ten-year-old. The others are more succinct, but in a similar vein. I'd normally agree with these groups- too many magical people are cruel to animals, but they don't seem to realise that this was a one-off, justifiable occurrence."

Harry looked disgusted, but he could only put one argument into words against this strange letter. "Neville's actually a day older than me."