Chapter Text
Harry Potter was burned out. His friends could see it. His co-workers could see it. The Minister of Magic could see it. The only person that couldn't see it was Harry Potter himself. He still showed up to work at the Auror Office, he still arrested Dark Wizards, he still did his paperwork, and he still went home every night to the woman he loved more than anything.
March 23rd, 2004
Ministry of Magic, London
Harry stumbled through the Floo entrance in the Atrium, quickly glancing around in hope that nobody had seen that. Satisfied that nobody had seen him almost eat floor, he dusted himself off with his wand and made his way to his office. Being the youngest Head Auror in Ministry History came with some sweet perks, he thought, the least of which was his own private office.
It hadn't even been ten minutes since he sat down, and already there was a knock on his door. "Come in, Hermione," he said, not even looking up from the report on his desk. The door opened and Hermione Granger walked in, still bushy-haired and still determined to make a difference in the world.
"How did you know it was me, Harry?" Hermione asked, shutting the door behind her.
"You're the only one that still bloody knocks," Harry replied, somewhat irritably. "What's up?"
Hermione hesitated before she answered. She could see, on many occasions recently, that Harry was exhausted. He looked ready to drop dead from a simple Stinging Jinx. "Are... Are you okay?"
Harry sighed with discontent as he looked up from the report he was reading. "Not this again, Hermione. Like I told you on Friday. I'm fine. Ginny and I aren't fighting and from what I can tell from the books, Weasley's Wizard Wheezes and all the rest of the Potter and Black investments are doing great. I've just had a few bad dreams lately. Nothing for anyone but me to lose sleep over."
Hermione studied Harry's face with a shocked expression. "Harry, I'm not trying to pry. But you look like you haven't slept in a week. The bags under your eyes are starting to look like our Hogwarts trunks at this point. I'm asking as one of your best friends - go see a Healer and try to get some sleep."
Even as he listened to what Hermione said, Harry's eyes started to droop. "You're right, Hermione," he relented. "I'll go after work tonight."
Hermione shook her head. "You'll go during lunch. Ron and I will be making sure you go, and we will be taking you to lunch to make sure you eat something."
"There's no way around this, is there?"
Hermione shook her head, and the faintest smile tugged at Harry's face.
"Fine. If there's nothing else, I have to get back to this report about some black-market brooms. I swear, if Mundungus Fletcher is behind this, I'm hexing his bollocks off for good."
Hermione gave a small chuckle and left Harry's office, closing the door behind her. Harry carefully set the privacy wards and went back to the report. He had gotten as far as the third paragraph of his report when his head dropped onto his folded arms. Not long after, he was asleep.
Harry dreamed he was back at Hogwarts, riding his trusty Firebolt in the Quidditch final. He dove for the Snitch, with Slytherin's Seeker hot on his tail. Harry pulled out of the dive, not bothering to glance back as he heard a sickening THUD behind him, telling him that Slytherin's Seeker had crashed into the ground. His fingers closed around the tiny golden ball, eliciting a roar from the crowd. He looked over the Quidditch pitch with a wide grin on his face, elated that he had won a Quidditch Cup as Gryffindor Team Captain. The loudest cheers, however, weren't coming from the Gryffindor stands. Oddly enough, it was from the Slytherin side. He looked in the direction of the cheers, and what he saw made his jaw drop. A girl he had never seen before, or maybe he had, but couldn't remember - too many Bludgers - with dirty blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. He gave her a grin that she returned tenfold.
The scene changed. Harry and the girl from the first dream were moving quickly, not on brooms, but in a Muggle car. There was a sound behind them that Harry could only equate to a freight train. He turned to look and immediately wished he hadn't. A giant tornado was bearing down on the pair and their vehicle.
"Potter," the girl said, "If you truly want to live, grab my hand!"
Harry grabbed her hand just as the tornado picked up their vehicle and threw it.
Harry woke with a start, breathing as though he had just run five miles. He had just managed to collect himself when a lynx Patronus appeared in front of him.
"Harry," the lynx spoke with the voice of Minister of Magic Kingsley Shacklebolt, "I need to see you in my office immediately."
Harry rose from his desk and unlocked his office, making his way to Kingsley's office. It wasn't often that Kingsley asked for him anymore, unless it was about another Death Eater on the run. He made his way through the Ministry, numb to the stares and whispers at this point. He found himself in Kingsley's outer office, walking past his secretary and into the Minister's office.
"Come in," Kingsley greeted sarcastically, rising from his chair and extending his hand to Harry's. "It's good to see you, my friend."
"Likewise," Harry replied. "How can I be of service, Minister?"
"Have a seat." Kingsley gestured to the chair on the other side of his desk. He waited for Harry to sit down before sitting himself. "Harry, I'm going to be honest with you. You look like shit, like a good Stinging Jinx might kill you. How long has it been since you got a decent night's sleep?"
Harry groaned. "Not you, too. Hermione Granger already came by my office and essentially said she and Ron are kidnapping me to St. Mungo's to see a Healer during lunch."
Despite the seriousness of the conversation, Kingsley allowed himself a quick chuckle. "That's good of them. You're fortunate to have friends that care about you. That brings me to my next question. How are things at home? You and Ginny doing alright?"
"We're fine, Kingsley," Harry replied with gritted teeth. "I wish everyone would stop asking me that."
Kingsley held his hands up in mock surrender. "I apologize, Harry. I worry because you're here late every night and throwing yourself into your work. You're twenty-three years old, Harry. You need to relax and enjoy your life every once in awhile."
Harry studied Kingsley's face. There was no trace of malice or ill will in his features. "What do you suggest, Minister?"
"Well," Kingsley replied, picking up a folder from his desk and handing it to Harry, "Since we both know you won't actually take time off, I've authorized you a working vacation."
"A what?" Harry took the folder and opened it, reading as Kingsley spoke.
"The Department of Mysteries is curious about weather patterns, not just in England, but all over the world. MACUSA has agreed to allow one of our Unspeakables, plus one Auror escort, to follow along a group of what the Muggles call Storm Chasers to study tornadic activity in the American Great Plains. You're going to escort our Unspeakable."
"This is mental." Harry looked up from the file, giving Kingsley side-eye look. "Storm Chasers? Like that Muggle movie Twister? And who's the Unspeakable you're sending?"
"She's already there. Daphne Greengrass. She was in your year, in Slytherin."
Harry sighed. "So, what, keep her out of trouble and make sure she doesn't get sucked up by a tornado? Sounds riveting. Can I at least have some time to think about it?"
"Take all the time you need," Kingsley replied, "Up to three days. I expect an answer by Friday."
"Of course you do." Harry rose from his seat and left Kingsley's office.
It was earlier than usual that Harry arrived home to 12 Grimmauld Place. He was greeted by his house elf, Kreacher
"Shoes off, if you please, Master Harry," Kreacher said. "Dinner shall be ready in an hour."
"Thanks, Kreacher," Harry replied. "Is Ginny home, by chance?"
Kreacher nodded. "Master Harry's bride-to-be is upstairs, entertaining friends."
Harry's brow furrowed. He'd never known Ginny to be the "Entertaining friends" type. He was broken out of his thoughts when he heard a scream from upstairs. His eyes widened and his wand appeared in his hand as he bolted upstairs to the master bedroom. He heard the scream again, but it was different. Not pain, but... pleasure. Harry's worry was quickly replaced by anger as he blasted the door open. What he saw filled him with rage. Ginny, in bed with not just Seamus Finnegan, but Dean Thomas as well.
"What the FUCK?!" Harry yelled. Everything seemed to stop. Ginny turned to look at him, surprised that he was home so early. Dean, at least, had the wherewithal to look afraid. Seamus, not so much.
"Oi, Potter!" Seamus exclaimed. "Close the door, will ya?"
Harry saw red. Before Dean, Ginny, or Seamus could react, all three were stunned, and Seamus had a particularly cold freezing charm placed on his bollocks.
"Kreacher!" Harry called. When the elf appeared, Harry gave him his instructions. "Dress all three of them and get them out of my house. Remove all of Ginny's things and revoke access to the wards for her, as well as Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan, and if they try to get back in, don't kill them. Just maim or seriously injure."
"As Master wishes," Kreacher replied. He snapped his fingers, and the three stunned figures were dressed. Before he teleported them beyond the wards, Harry walked over to Ginny's stunned form and forcefully pulled the engagement ring off her finger. With one last nod to Kreacher, the three were popped out of Grimmauld Place. Harry let out a blood-curdling scream for what felt like hours, until his throat was raw. Had it not been for Kreacher acting of his own accord to bring Ron and Hermione to Grimmauld Place, or force-feeding his inconsolable master, Harry may not have eaten anything that night. Ron and Hermione stayed with him until he calmed down, at which point he conjured his Patronus and sent a four-word message to Kingsley.
"When can I leave?"
And that's Chapter one in the books! Don't forget to follow, fave, and review, y'all.