PhoenixSong.net :: A Harry/Ginny Fanfic and Fanart Archive

Author: MyGinevra

Story: The Hog's Head

Part: 49: Le Ministère De La Magie

Rating: Teens

Status: Completed

Warning: Sexual Situations

Reviews: 5

Words: 8,676

Updated: November 19, 2008, 5:44pm

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49: Le Ministère De La Magie

Author's Note:

Two friends and one very published author get credits for chapter 49. Anne suggested what kind of marquee Ginny should have at her wedding, and she also edited the chapter to make sure I hadn't said anything outlandish about France; she also corrected my French, and told me the names of the French wizarding government departments. Jim L told me about the European law enforcement agency, Intermagic, that he created. The reference by Bill Weasley to "means and ends" comes from The Dispossessed, by Ursula K. Leguin. It's possible, I suppose, that he read the book; he seems like the type who would enjoy it.

On Friday afternoon, with his bags packed for France, Harry went to the Head Auror's office and from there he, Laura Lovegood, and Saliyah took a lift to Level One. Kingsley Shacklebolt was waiting for them in his office and, to Harry's surprise, Bill Weasley was with him.

Bill grinned at Harry. "Voici ton interprète," he announced, spreading his arms wide.

"What?" Harry couldn't help grinning back; whatever Bill had said, Harry assumed that it meant that he would be coming with them.

"Your interpreter, at your service," said Bill. He nodded to the others. "And don't worry, Ginny liked the idea of our making the trip together."

"Très bien, or something like that," said Kingsley with a smile. "Let's get started, shall we? I'd like you all to leave for Paris as soon as possible. First, everyone needs to be clear about why you are going and what you should try to accomplish.

"The person in charge of this mission is Saliyah. She is carrying my full authority to negotiate with the French wizarding government, and has the blessing of the Wizengamot. However, as far as we can tell, you will be dealing only with the French equivalent of our Department of Magical Law Enforcement, which is..." He looked questioningly at Bill.

"La Direction Administrative de la Police Magique Nationale. DAPMN," he added. "The French themselves use the abbreviation."

"Right," Kingsley said. "The French are organized almost office by office the same as their Muggle government. Now, you, Laura, are there to assist both Harry and Saliyah with any administrative or logistical issues. You're quite familiar with what those are, so I won't bore you.

"Bill is your interpreter. He'll work closely with Saliyah and also with the French interpreter, whoever that is. They have several excellent ones who speak fluent English.

"We, too, have several very skilled French–speaking people in the Ministry, a few of whom have been trained as interpreters, but we — Saliyah and myself — decided not to use them because we want to make a certain impression."

He paused, and Bill leaned forward. "I don't mind your saying it, Minister."

Kingsley nodded. "It can be a sensitive subject." He cleared his throat. "What I'm about to say applies to you, too, Harry. We want them to understand that we suffered tremendously under the Death Eater regime and at the hand of Lord Voldemort. It's not a false impression, as everyone here knows quite well. But we can't expect people who didn't suffer through it to really understand. I asked Bill to consider joining the mission only after I explained this to him. He courageously agreed, and I'm grateful." He nodded at Bill.

"It helps that I have a French wife," Bill said with an impish smile.

"Is she coming with us?" Harry asked hopefully. "Isn't she close to...?"

"Less than a month," said Bill, "but the Healer gave her the okay to Portkey. She didn't want to miss a chance to have an all–expense paid trip to Paris."

"Mrs. Weasley," said Kingsley, "will impart a somewhat different impression than Bill."

Harry chuckled with the rest of them. "Why isn't she here?" he said to the Minister.

"Because she doesn't need to know the details of the mission. She'll be joining you as soon as we're finished.

"Now," he turned a serious face to Harry, "we come to The Chosen One. Sorry, I know you don't like it, but that's how you are known over there." He looked at Bill. "What is it in French?"

"L'Elu."

The Minister looked back at Harry. "You are going for two reasons. We want you to get this experience. It will be extraordinarily valuable for you in the future. You will begin to make acquaintances and maybe even friends. You will have a picture in your mind of what it is like there. And, they will start to know you. That's the second reason. Harry, I know how much your notoriety embarrasses you, but I want you to begin thinking of your reputation as a tool, something you can use to reach a goal."

"I know what you're going to say, sir," Harry said. "The same things you said at Fred's funeral."

The Minister of Magic smiled broadly and leaned back in his chair. "I knew you would understand."

"It's a little cynical, though, isn't it?"

Kingsley's booming laugh filled the room. "Yes, it is indeed! And don't forget it, either." He suddenly became serious. "It can be a danger, Harry, a great danger, to both of us. I believe in you, and so does everyone who knows you, but that's no guarantee against corruption. The only thing that will keep your goals relatively pure and your methods relatively honorable is what's inside you."

The Minister's last words echoed in Harry's mind, but in a different voice, a woman's voice, Ginny's voice. "It's me who's inside you, love," it said.

Harry blinked. "I'm planning on doing my best, and I have plenty of help."

"That's right," Kingsley nodded, "we're all here to help each other. Now, what were we talking about?"

"My reputation."

"Yes, as a means to an end. And in this case, the ultimate end is setting up a liaison between all the magical law enforcement agencies in Europe, starting with the French, then gradually the others. Saliyah?" He turned to the Head Auror.

"I see two stages to this negotiation," she said. "The first is to smooth the feathers that were ruffled when we sent people across the Channel last year to pursue the Death Eaters. The second will be to get the French to agree on a liaison between us and them as a first step in an inter–magical law enforcement agency, Intermagic, if you will. I'll consider it a success if we make progress toward the first goal."

"So you don't expect us to actually set anything up?" Harry said.

"No. It's going to take a while. When we meet with our counterparts tomorrow, we'll be interested in making a good impression."

"Or just an impression," Bill grinned, touching his scarred face.

"That's right," Saliyah said. "Remember, for almost a year there were no contacts between the two magical governments, but even before that, under Fudge, there was a lot of suspicion on both sides. Things improved a little under Rufus, but it was short–lived."

The discussion lasted a few more minutes, and then Kingsley bade them good luck and they returned to the Head Auror's office. To Harry's delight, Fleur was waiting, and after an embrace with Bill she gave Harry a hug. She laughed and rubbed her huge belly when he stared at it.

"'Arry," she said before they went into the inner office, "I stopped off at 'ogwarts before I came 'ere, and Ginny sends you a big kiss, which I will wait for 'er to give you." She laughed again and patted Harry's cheek.

"Did you go there to see her?" Harry asked, a little surprised.

"Oh, no. I looked her up, but I wanted to talk to Madame Maxime. She is very close to some witches in ze government. Zey are in ze Education Directorate, but you never know when someone can 'elp you."

The Portkey was sitting on Saliyah's desk, a boot that looked like it had been dug up from a garbage dump. "I Scourgified it," Laura Lovegood said dryly when she saw Harry's dubious look.

"Are we ready?" the Head Auror asked. The boot glowed blue; they all reached for it and after several breathless moments they were in a long, ornate room with a row of tall windows on one side. Through them Harry could see a large park with wide walkways and sculpted shrubbery. Opposite the windows was a row of tall gilded mirrors. He glanced up and saw large paintings on the ceiling; they depicted voluptuous, naked women and muscular, naked men, all engaged in various activities. I'd like to show that to Ginny, was the first thought that came to him.

He heard voices and turned. Four wizards in flowing red robes had come through a door and were sweeping toward them from the end of the room. Before they were in earshot Saliyah spoke quickly.

"No one talks but me," she said in a low voice. "And we are not in Versailles. This is all done with magic."

The wizard in the lead had a smile on his face as he approached. "Welcome to France!" he exclaimed and took Saliyah's extended hand. "Madame Head Auror Ushujaa, I presume? I am Chief Inspector Pierre Guebwiller, at your service."

Saliyah bowed slightly. "Delighted to meet you. Chief Inspector. May I introduce my colleagues?" As she did so, a wizard standing at Guebwiller's shoulder translated her words for the others. When she said, "This is Mr. Harry Potter, my assistant," the Frenchmen looked at him with interest and their eyes all flicked to his forehead.

"My administrative assistant, Miss Laura Lovegood, our interpreter, Mr. William Weasley, and his wife, Madame Fleur Delacour–Weasley," Saliyah finished.

The wizards noted Bill's scarred face and looked at Fleur with polite appreciation; their eyes all lingered for a moment on her long, silver hair.

Guebwiller bowed. "Charmante. These are my Auror colleagues, Messrs. Colkett and Lemaire, and our interpreter Monsieur Lalangue. May I escort you to your quarters? As you know, I am sure," he said as he led them to the door at the end of the long room, "we are in le Ministère de la Magie, our Ministry of Magic, and this hallway is our presumptuous attempt to over–impress visitors. If you like, we can arrange a tour of the real Versailles; I'm sure you would find it much more impressive than this clumsy illusion."

When they left the long room with its windows, mirrors, and amorous ceiling paintings, they came into a corridor that was almost identical to every hallway in the British Ministry of Magic. There were no windows, and it was lit by guttering torches mounted on the walls. Wizards and witches in a rainbow of variously colored robes passed by, hurrying along to unknown destinations. Most of them had parchments or clutched folders in their hands; they all glanced at the visitors as they passed, and many of the wizards gave more than a glance at Fleur. An occasional owl flew overhead with a parchment in its beak or tied to its leg; Harry didn't see any droppings on the floor, and wondered if the French had solved that problem.

They walked for about five minutes through twisting corridors until they came to a bank of lifts. M. Guebwiller pushed the button and after a minute a lift came to a clattering stop. To Harry it seemed smaller and twice as rickety as the ones in the Ministry at home, but they all crowded in, somewhat pressed together.

It went up and stopped after three floors. The corridor on this level was carpeted and lit with candles instead of torches. They saw fewer people here, and finally stopped in front of an ordinary–looking door. They went inside and found themselves in a large sitting room, tastefully furnished with several sofas and easy chairs. There was a fireplace with a cheerful fire, a large desk with writing materials, and through a doorway what appeared to be a kitchenette, from which a few low voices could be heard. Four closed doors led from the room, and Harry assumed that those were the bedrooms. There were several portraits of wizards and witches on the walls; all of the paintings' residents watched the visitors with interest.

"We leave you here." M. Guebwiller gestured around the room. "Should you want anything, pull the bell cord —" he indicated a tasseled rope next to the fireplace "— and someone will come to assist you. For any of your housekeeping needs, ask the house–elves. They do not speak English, so Mr. Weasley will have to communicate your wishes to them. If you want to go out and see the city or any nearby locations, we will be happy to escort you to the nearest exit of the Ministry and provide a guide, if you wish." He bowed again and the four wizards left.

"House–elves?" said Harry. He walked to the kitchenette door and peered in. Two house–elves looked up at him; they were young, but dressed the same way that elves in Britain dressed, in simple coverings with rope belts. They both had large, bulbous eyes, floppy ears, and long noses; Harry noticed that their eyes were blue, something he didn't ever recall seeing in an elf at home.

He nodded to them, and they both bowed. As he turned back to the sitting room they began to chatter in French, and Harry was certain that he heard them say his name and that French word for "The Chosen One."

He joined the others on the sofas. They talked about the wizards they had met and the fake Hall of Mirrors, and then Bill suggested a sightseeing tour of Paris. Saliyah and Laura had been in the city many times, so Harry, Bill, and Fleur went out.

Harry was enchanted with everything he saw. It was the first time he had ever been in a foreign city and he reveled in the sights, sounds, and smells. Everything was different, everything was marvelous. They took a lift up to the top of the Eiffel Tower and looked out over the whole city; they rode a boat along the Seine; he gawked at the magnificent interior of Notre Dame; they strolled down avenues and wide boulevards, and as dusk fell they ate at a sidewalk café that Bill and Fleur knew from Bill's trips to Douces Mains, the French wizarding bank to which Gringotts was connected. They sat in the soft April evening and watched the automobiles, the lights, and the people strolling by.

"This is beautiful," Harry said as he sipped a glass of wine, chosen for him by Bill. "It feels so different from London. There's something special in the air."

Fleur was drinking Perrier. "You must return wiz Ginny," she said with a smile. "And you must come exactly one year from now. April in Paris is ze perfect time for lovers."

Harry stared off toward the west. He could feel Ginny's presence, and he tried to fill himself up with the sensuousness of the city; he knew that if he did that, somehow Ginny would feel it, too.

"I'm really glad to be here with you," he said to them. "A lot of things that Kingsley said this afternoon are starting to click into place for me."

"Harry," Bill had a small frown, and he put his own glass of wine down, "there was something that Kingsley said that I wanted to talk to you about. Do you remember when he mentioned ends and means?"

Harry nodded. "Are you going to say that the ends don't justify the means? I agree."

"No, I'm going to say something quite different, that the means are the end. The way you accomplish something determines what you end up with. Do you see the difference?"

Harry thought for a moment. "But don't you think Kingsley would agree with that? Isn't it exactly what he said at Fred's funeral?"

"I don't know," Bill said, a little sadly, and Fleur put her hand on his. "He's a good man, don't get me wrong, and I believe in all the lofty goals that he's talked about for almost a year now. I'm sure he does, too. But when he told you to use your reputation to help us get a liaison set up, it bothered me."

"I think I see what you mean," said Harry. "Why did he say it?"

"Because he wants it so badly. I don't mean he's desperate to have a permanent diplomat here. That's just one small step in the larger vision. Like I said, I still think it's a worthy vision and worth fighting for, but..." He shook his head. "When powerful people start talking about 'a means to an end,' it sends up a warning. You shouldn't be using your reputation, Harry, you should be earning it."

Harry watched a young couple walking toward the café; they had a large white dog on a leash and as they passed, the animal veered toward Harry. Its tail began to wag and it suddenly put its front paws on Harry's lap and barked once. Harry was startled at first, but then he smiled and scratched the animal's head.

The man pulled the dog off and started apologizing in French. "It's okay," Harry laughed, and looked at Bill. Bill said something in French, and the man was about to respond but abruptly stopped and stared at him with wide eyes and his mouth hanging open. He stepped back two paces, then looked at Fleur and his eyes got wider. He turned to the woman, who was also gazing at Fleur with an amazed expression. They slowly backed away and then resumed walking, looking over their shoulders at the strange couple sitting at the table.

"What is zere problem?" Fleur said, glaring at their backs. She followed that with a string of rapid French; Bill laughed and stood.

"Time to get back, before we attract too much attention." He paid the bill, put Fleur's arm in his, and they made their way to the abandoned Metro station that was the entrance to Le Ministère de la Magie.

Dinner that night was in the private dining room of the Ministre de la Magie, M. Paramètre, a short, energetic wizard who paid a great deal of attention to Fleur. The food was excellent, although not quite as robust as what Harry had eaten at Hogwarts or the Burrow, but it reminded him of some of the dishes that Fleur had served at Shell Cottage. Harry sat between Laura Lovegood and a stern–looking witch in dark green robes, not much older than himself. She asked him about the Battle of Hogwarts, and he judged by her questions that she was fairly misinformed about many things. She thought, for example, that the castle had been invested by a goblin army in the pay of Lord Voldemort.

"They were Death Eaters," he told her through Bill, who was sitting on her other side. "I didn't see any goblins.

"No goblins? That is surprising. Don't you think they had an interest in seeing the Dark Lord victorious?"

"No. I knew one fairly well, and I think he recognized how dangerous Riddle would have been to goblins in the long run."

"Riddle?" she arched her eyebrows. "That was the surname of the Dark Lord, wasn't it?"

Harry nodded. "He hated it because his father was a Muggle."

"Yes, Muggle. I know that word." She appraised him for a moment. "Well, Mr. Potter, you seem to have a different story to tell than the one we heard here. Do you have an explanation for that?"

Harry glanced around and noticed that Saliyah, who was sitting across from him next to the Minister, was listening. "Stories tend to change as they travel, don't you think?" he said to the French witch. "Since I was there, you'll have to admit that my version must be more accurate."

"Yes," she smiled slightly. "I do admit that. And there is another story we heard that sounds too fantastic to be true, so maybe you can set us straight once more. They say that you died and came back to life. Is this true? Many Muggle religions claim such a miracle. Is there now a wizarding miracle to match it?"

Most of the conversations at the table stopped; Harry could feel all eyes on him, especially Saliyah's. He knew that he must not even hint at the existence of the Horcrux or say anything about the Elder Wand.

"Well," he hesitated, trying to give himself some time to think. Now no one else was talking, they were all listening to him. Bill smiled and nodded.

Harry spoke slowly, choosing his words carefully. "I don't know if you know what happened to me when I was one year old."

He looked around, taking more time; Saliyah gave him a quick nod and her eyes smiled.

Harry continued. "Lord Voldemort tried to kill me when I was an infant because of a Prophecy that said one of us must die for the other to live. He killed my father, but he intended to spare my mother. She refused to step aside, so he killed her, then tried to kill me. But her sacrifice created a blood protection, and his Killing Curse rebounded. It destroyed his body but somehow his soul lived, and it gave me my scar." He put his finger on it, and everyone gazed at it. "That blood protection is what saved me when I faced him in the Forest during the battle. He thought he had killed me, but I had only been temporarily knocked out. He and his army returned to Hogwarts Castle with my body, and when the fighting started again I was able to get away from him undetected. The next time we faced each other, I won the duel."

The Minister of Magic spoke through his interpreter. "But Monsieur Potter, that doesn't make sense. They say that when he killed you in that forest, the Dark Lord himself was rendered unconscious. Something else must have happened."

"Monsieur le Ministre," Saliyah leaned forward and spoke, much to Harry's relief, "there are many, many things about that battle that no one understands yet. In fact, the entire event is being studied by our Department of Mysteries."

He frowned briefly, but then smiled. "Fine, let's not dwell on death, even if it's followed by resurrection." He looked at Harry. "You will have to tell us the complete story of your exploits someday. I look forward to it."

The meal was soon over, and the British delegation returned to their quarters. Saliyah convened a short meeting before they retired, and commented on the conversation Harry had had with the green–robed witch and what had followed.

"I think it was a little test," she remarked. "There didn't seem to be much point to her questions, and I can't imagine that they don't have an accurate account of what happened, after all this time."

"What was she testing?" Harry said.

"Maybe 'test' is the wrong word. She was probing to see how you would respond to an inaccurate story about yourself. Maybe they also doubted what they had heard about you and Riddle. It is a rather unusual tale."

"Which means that they're interested in me, right?"

Saliyah grinned. "And they also think that you might be important some day."

"'Arry is already important," Fleur declared. "Ozerwise you would not 'ave brought 'im 'ere. Ooo!" She put her hand on her belly and smiled at Bill. "She 'as given me a swift kick!" He put his hand next to hers and also grinned.

They all went to bed. Harry's room was cramped, with a narrow camp bed, night stand, chair, and small wardrobe. A candelabra with three candles stood on the night stand. He got into bed and extinguished the candles with a wave of his hand, and lay in the dark thinking about his day.

He knew that he had to come back to Paris with Ginny and savor the city with her; she would love it. He wondered what she was doing now; probably thinking about tomorrow's Quidditch match. He closed his eyes and imagined her soaring through the clear sky on her Firebolt above cheering crowds, holding the Golden Snitch above her head, her hair billowing out behind her. He fell asleep with a smile on his face.

They ate breakfast the next morning in their sitting room at a table that the elves set up, and discussed once again their strategy for the meeting. At ten o'clock the interpreter, M. Lalangue, arrived and took them to the office of the Chief Inspector. M. Guebwiller and the two Aurors who had been with him yesterday rose from their seats. There was also another witch who was introduced as the official scribe of the Département de la Justice Magique, Madame Plume.

Saliyah began and M. Lalangue translated as she spoke. M. Guebwiller responded and Bill translated for the British side. Harry tried to listen carefully; the French were complaining about some of the things that the British pursuers of the Death Eaters had done, and Saliyah was defending them. He soon realized that she understood more French than he had supposed, and she began to respond to Guebwiller's words before Bill had finished. And since Guebwiller understood English, he too started to cut through his own interpreter.

Soon they had lost Harry since he could only understand half of the heated conversation. The words went back and forth; the British Auror and the French Auror were disagreeing, but now Harry didn't know why. He stared glassy–eyed at the table, trying not to let on that he had no idea what was happening.

The wind rushed through their hair, and a wave of sound drowned out the angry voices around him. The sun blazed overhead and the ground rushed up at them. A small, golden ball shot across their vision and their outstretched hand snatched it from the air. The roar of the crowd doubled as they swooped low over the stadium. A figure in the crowd stood out; she was clad in green robes emblazoned with a gold talon. She had a grin on her face and she pointed at them with an upraised arm. They dove toward her and people around her ducked their heads even as they were applauding. They slapped the Golden Snitch against her outstretched palm and she closed her hand around the winged ball.

They soared up again, laughing wildly, loosening the clip in their hair and tossing their head as red tresses billowed around their face. He heard a voice whisper, "Harry, I'm here, Harry..."

He felt a sharp poke in his thigh and looked down to see Laura Lovegood's hand with a quill in it, jabbing at him under the table. He came out of the vision, or whatever it was, and saw that Saliyah and the French Auror were almost shouting at each other, one in English, the other in French, not waiting for anything they said to be translated. He glanced around the table; no one was looking at him, and it seemed that only Lovegood had noticed his absence. He took a breath, leaned forward, and tried to follow the conversation.

An hour later things had cooled down a bit and they broke for the midday meal. Harry found himself on the edges of the conversation. He didn't mind; he was still a little disoriented from the Quidditch match that Ginny — or he — or they — had just won.

Fleur was the center of attention. Harry wasn't sure what she was talking about — she spoke only in French during the whole meal — but he could tell that she was deliberately turning on the charm, flirting with all the French wizards at the table, even patting the hand of M. Guebwiller who was sitting next to her. At one point she looked at Harry, and he thought she gave him a quick wink.

Before they returned to the negotiating table Saliyah pulled him into a corner. "I'm sorry about what happened, Harry. He's claiming that we caused a ruckus in their Muggle government when we were looking for Umbridge." She lowered her voice even more. "Don't talk about this as long as we're in France, but we know for a fact that that's false. We have sources here."

She looked around as the French started to move back into the meeting room. "I'll slow things down so you can follow them. I think we're past the accusations and can start to get things done."

"I didn't know you spoke French," Harry said.

"I can't speak it well, but I understand enough to get more than the gist of what they're saying." She thought for a moment. "Sit next to Fleur and if something gets skipped over, ask her to translate it."

Harry took a different seat and whispered to Fleur what Saliyah had told him. The meeting began, but now things seemed a little friendlier. The interpreters were allowed to finish their sentences and Harry was able to follow everything. Soon everyone was smiling and Saliyah was shaking Guebwiller's hand. They all rose and went out to the room where they had eaten lunch. A bottle of champagne popped, and everyone toasted the friendship of the two wizarding governments and their people. All was good cheer and good feelings.

They made arrangements for a tour that afternoon of the Palace of Versailles with the French Aurors, and once again returned to their quarters. Saliyah was jubilant. She hugged Fleur, carefully.

"I don't know what kind of Veela magic you worked, but they certainly were a different bunch after lunch." She chuckled at her words, then turned to Laura Lovegood. "Kingsley should know about this right away. I'd like you to Portkey back and fill him in. Then come back here and wait for us."

She pulled the rope, and in a minute the door opened and M. Lalangue put his head in. Laura left with him and the other four sat around the fire that the house–elves had just started.

"So now all we have to do is appoint the liaison person?" Harry asked.

"Well, it's not quite that simple, but basically, yes," Saliyah leaned back with a satisfied look. "I honestly didn't expect them to agree so quickly. I think, Harry, that your being with us helped our credibility."

"But I didn't do anything," Harry said. "In fact, during the morning I got completely lost; I had no idea what was happening."

"I'm sorry about that," the Head Auror smiled. "We got a little carried away. He was being rather a prat, and I was being rather bitchy. But that's all water over the dam." She rubbed her hands in satisfaction and stood. "I think it's time for our sightseeing tour."

Fleur decided to stay and rest, so Harry, Bill, and Saliyah took a Ministry limousine with M. Guebwiller and his assistants to the suburb of Versailles and the royal palace.

Harry had never imagined that anything so vast and beautiful could have been created without using magic. He had seen some of the large public buildings in London, such as Parliament, but this was ostentatious on a completely different scale. The gardens were endless, and completely different from the gardens he had seen in the parks of London; they were orderly, elegant, symmetrical, and there were fountains everywhere. The vast palace went on room after room, and each one and each echoing hall was crammed with artwork, statues, and beautiful ceramics.

The French wizards seemed to have a relationship with the guards, or whoever it was that ran the place. They went into rooms where there were no Muggle tourists and where there were no lights until they entered; then the chandeliers and candelabras would burst into light, revealing more stunning vistas of royal opulence.

They returned to the Ministère de la Magie after dark. Laura was back, and Fleur was reclining in a sofa reading a French magazine; she sat up, grunting with the effort.

"I think I love France," Harry said to her as he dropped into the other sofa; Bill sat next to Fleur and gave her a kiss, then put his hand on her stomach.

"Bravo!" Fleur laughed. "I knew you would. But France is not all like ze palace of Versailles, just like England is not all like... like..." She frowned. "Well, England 'as not'ing like our chateaux of the nobility. As corrupt as zey were, zey knew 'ow to make beautiful t'ings."

Harry smiled at her disdain for British culture, then went into his room and flopped onto the bed. He took the small silver cylinder that was hanging around his neck under his shirt and pressed it to his lips. He closed his eyes as Ginny's fragrance filled the little room. He wished she could have come with him. He couldn't believe that he could miss her so much, even though he would see her in less than twenty–four hours, and only a few hours ago it had been as if he was inside her body back at Hogwarts. He had almost asked Saliyah if he could return to London instead of Laura, but he knew that he had to stay until tomorrow. What was he going to do after they got married and his career took him away from her for days or weeks? How was he going to cope without driving himself crazy with the Bouquedelle?

He got up and went back into the sitting room. It was empty, so he went to the door directly across from his and knocked. It opened and Bill looked at him in surprise.

"Are you okay?" he asked, opening the door wide and stepping aside for Harry to enter. This room was slightly larger than his, with a double bed instead of a single, and two chairs. Fleur was lying on the bed reading the same magazine, but she put it down and smiled at Harry.

"'Arry! Come in, sit down."

Bill removed a shirt that was hanging over the back of one of the chairs and sat in the other. "What's up, mate?" he asked cheerfully. "Are you missing a certain someone?"

Harry smiled and fell into the chair. "Yeah. It's crazy, since I'll see her tomorrow, but it seems like we're so far away from each other. I don't get like this during the week, even if four or five days go by."

"I know exactly what you mean," Bill looked at Fleur affectionately. "Distance seems to have an effect on my feelings, too. I think this one works her witchcraft best from a distance," he grinned evilly at Fleur who batted her eyelashes at him; she looked so alluring that Harry had to force himself to look away.

"What do you guys do when you're separated?" he said, then turned red. "I mean — I didn't mean —" He turned even redder and looked down.

Fleur laughed, a tinkling, silvery sound like bells. "You are sweet, 'Arry. Don't worry, we understand what you are asking. Ze answer is, we don't know because it 'asn't 'appened yet, but we will find out pretty soon. As you know, right after your wedding Bill is going to Egypt for a couple of weeks for ze bank, and I'm staying wiz Maman so she can get to know ze baby."

Harry sighed. "I'm worried. This morning during the meeting when Saliyah and that French chap were shouting at each other, something strange happened, but it's not really strange because it's happened before."

Both Bill and Fleur looked at him with concern. "It's not anything bad," he hastened to say, "but... well, what happened is that I had kind of a vision. Actually, it was more like I was really there, and I completely lost track of what was going on here. It was like I wasn't here."

"I don't understand," said Bill with a little frown. "Did someone hex you?"

"I don't t'ink 'e is saying zat," Fleur said knowingly. "Tell us what 'appened, 'Arry."

The words started to pour out. "I was at the Quidditch match at Hogwarts. I was on the broom with Ginny. I was Ginny. I know it sounds crazy, but, like I said, it's happened before. We... we sort of come together, and then there aren't two of us, there's only one of us. I know what she's doing, feeling, thinking; and she knows what I'm doing. When it happened this morning, I couldn't help it. I think only Laura noticed it, but if someone had asked me a question, I don't know what I would have said. Probably 'great match, Gin!'"

"So she caught the Snitch!" Bill exclaimed, then looked guiltily at Fleur. "I mean, that's very interesting, Harry."

"Bah!" Fleur shot Bill a deprecating look. "Zere is more to life zan Quidditch. 'Arry, I 'ave 'eard of zis t'ing, where two lovers become one, but I 'ave never seen it. I t'ink it is quite rare and special. You and Ginny should consider yourselves very lucky, not crazy."

"Oh, we don't think we're crazy, not at all," Harry said. "It's really nice to know how things affect her, you know..." He turned red again and cleared his throat as both Bill and Fleur grinned. "The last few times, though, it was scary. It felt like we were melting together, and we got scared and jumped back. But this morning, it happened without our noticing it, at least I didn't. One second I was sitting at the table here in the Ministry of la Magie, and the next second I was catching the Golden Snitch in the stadium at Hogwarts."

"Did Ginny know you were zere?" Fleur asked.

"Oh, yes! She whispered something to me."

They were quiet for a few moments, and Harry leaned back in his chair, feeling good that he had talked to them about it. He knew that Ginny wouldn't mind, in fact she would be glad, especially to find out that Fleur had heard of this thing.

Bill finally spoke. "It's a blessing, Harry. And it's definitely magical, which means that there's a way to control it. It'll take time, but I think that eventually you and Ginny will be able to turn it on and off at will. That's how you'll cope with being away from her." He gazed at Fleur for a moment, and she smiled. "You and Ginny are lucky, Harry, although I think that there's more to it than luck."

There was a knock at the door. Bill reached over and opened it and Saliyah stuck her head in. "Ah, here you are, Harry. It's time to get ready for dinner. Dress robes, everyone."

Dinner was very elegant, hosted by Monsieur le Ministre, served in a darkly paneled dining room with large chandeliers, linen table cloths and napkins, fine china, and what seemed like dozens of house–elves; Harry was certain that there was always at least one at his elbow ready to take his plate as soon as he finished a course. And he soon lost track of how many courses there were. This time the food outdid anything he had ever tasted at Shell Cottage; there were a few dishes that he couldn't identify, but those gave him a new and delicious taste sensation.

The elves also kept filling his wine glass, and he quickly realized that he would have to be careful or else he could easily fall asleep with his head in his plate. Each time M. Paramètre or M. Guebwiller or Saliyah proposed a toast, instead of taking a drink he simply put the glass to his lips and pretended to drink. He thought he detected a frown of disapproval from the house–elf who was pouring his wine, but he preferred to be awake for the rest of the evening.

The meal finally ended, and Harry got up from the table slowly and carefully; he had never been this full, even at one of Hogwarts' famous feasts. When they went back to their quarters it was late, and they all wanted to leave as early as possible the next morning, so they went to their separate rooms. Harry didn't use the Bouquedelle, but he put his arms around the pillow and kissed it. He fell asleep thinking about the soft curves of Ginny's body that he loved to caress.

They were served a fabulous breakfast the next morning in their quarters. Harry asked if he could take a half–dozen puffy, cream–filled pastries with him, and the elves packed them in a special box that would protect them during the Portkey. The French Aurors came and took them to the magical Hall of Mirrors where they said farewell and Portkeyed back to Saliyah's office.

Kingsley met them there, the Minister smiling and congratulating everyone. Harry left as soon as he could and ran down the corridor to the lift, found one waiting, and tore through the empty Atrium to the fireplaces. He stumbled out of the fireplace in the flat, almost crashing into the love seat in his haste. When he got to his feet, McPherson hooted from his perch and Harry saw a parchment on the mantel.

It was from Ginny. I know you were with me. Come as quickly as you can. I love you.

He threw his bags into the bedroom and jumped back into the fireplace. He stumbled again into the Gryffindor common room, and the second–years sitting in the chairs in front of the fireplace pointed wordlessly as one to the back of the room. Harry composed himself, brushed ashes from his hair, and walked to where Ginny was standing looking out a window.

"Hey, champ," he said as he put his arms around her from the back.

She turned with a squeal and flung her arms around him. "Two hundred thirty to ten!" she cried. "We were perfect! Dennis missed one shot, but he stopped five others! And... and how did you know, how did you get there?"

"Let's sit someplace," Harry looked around, then said hopefully, "Or, can you come back to the flat?"

"I don't know, I have a lot of work to do," Ginny said with a frown, but Harry saw the twinkle in her eye.

"I have some French pastries that I brought back. They're really yummy, filled with scrumptious cream."

"Blimey, if that isn't a line. Luring me with fattening food, are you, Potter?"

"It's the best I can do," he grinned. "There's six of them, and I'll let you have four."

"Five."

"That's not fair! Besides, you're right, they're very fattening. You'll probably only want three, now that I think about it."

"Five, or you'll be lonely for the rest of the day." She looked up at him from under her eyebrows and unbuttoned his shirt. She put her hands on his chest and started to rub.

Harry groaned. "Okay, okay! All six! I surrender."

Ginny kissed him, then put her hands inside the front pockets of his trousers and started rummaging. "I knew you'd see reason," she smiled. "Where's your Floo Powder?"

* * * *

As the afternoon waned, they lay in the four–poster in the flat with the hangings closed; they wanted to be snug and private as they discussed what had happened to them during the Quidditch match.

"Saliyah and the French Auror were talking back and forth without translating, and I was completely lost. Then, all of a sudden, the sun was out and I was diving on my — your — our broom. You — we caught the Snitch and took off again. Was that witch in the green robes from the Harpies?"

"Mmm." Ginny ran her fingers through the hair on his chest; her head was on his shoulder and her leg was thrown across his thighs. "She's Stephanie Dee, their Chaser coach. She was there with Gwenog Jones."

"She seemed pretty happy with you."

Ginny smiled and kissed his chin. "You need a shave. Yeah, she was happy. Harry, we played so well. Hufflepuff never had a chance. Their heads were spinning, we were flying around like there was no one else out there. I almost felt sorry for them."

"I didn't sense any pity when I was there with you." He chuckled and ran his finger down her back, then along her hip and down her leg; he came back up with his whole hand, lingering on the round parts.

"I didn't have any," she said into his neck, giving him chills. She hesitated. "Harry, how is that connection happening? Do you know what it sounds like when you describe it?"

She lifted her head and looked at him. At first he didn't meet her eyes, but when he did, they knew that both of them were worried.

He nodded. "It sounds like when I was connected to Riddle."

"That's what I thought, too."

"But it's not scary at all, and it's not coming through my scar." He touched his forehead. "I go for weeks without even thinking about that. Whatever's happening, it's different from before."

Ginny put her head back on his shoulder and resumed twirling his chest hair. "I hope you don't miss the Ravenclaw match. It should be pretty interesting with you right there, and not hundreds of miles away."

"Speaking of which, we have to take a trip to Paris. It's the most beautiful place I've ever seen."

"That would be nice," Ginny started to purr. "It's supposed to be very romantic."

"It ees for lovers," he said in a bad imitation of Fleur. "And there are lots of pastry shops."

Ginny laughed and kissed him. After a deep snog, Harry rolled on top of her and they made love again.

* * * *

That week, time seemed to speed up for Ginny. Many things were happening, and events crowded together. The owlets started making excursions outside the Owlery and Bailey brought them to Ginny's room several times. Her roommates loved it, but when Sarah asked for one, Ginny lied and told her that all of them were spoken for. They weren't strong enough to carry anything, but Rosie and Mocha would fly down to the window of the first–years' room, and the twins pretended to give them messages for Ginny. The owlets would chirp excitedly and fly off in no particular direction, then return a minute later holding up an empty leg.

The wedding was another event fast approaching. July 17 was only a month after the end of term, and Molly Weasley was worried that there was not enough time to complete all the preparations. She went into a frantic overdrive, which provided lots of work for both Bailey and McPherson, who Ginny borrowed from Harry. She had to send two or three messages a day, trying to prevent her mum from creating faits accomplis that were not to Ginny's liking.

For example, Molly wanted to use the same marquee that Bill and Fleur had used, but Ginny wanted something totally different. One day in Herbology, while she was daydreaming about it, Luna said, from out of the blue, "Make a living marquee. Use trees and vines."

Ginny blinked and stared at her. "How did you know what I was thinking?"

Luna shrugged and went back to trimming her Folding And Stapling Zucchini plant. "All you think about now is your wedding. You were talking about the marquee in the library last night, and now here we are in Herbology."

Ginny shook her head as if clearing cobwebs, then grinned at Keesha. "I should have guessed," she said.

"It's a good idea," Keesha chimed in. "Why don't you ask Neville what you can use? I'll bet he knows how to make one."

Ginny agreed that it was a good idea, but it took a week for her to convince her mother. Meanwhile she had to fight battles about her gown, the flower girls — Molly wouldn't give up on the Prewett cousins — George's outfit, and whether to include the entire Order of the Phoenix on the guest list. Ginny finally conceded that one — provided Mundungus Fletcher was on the list — in an attempt to head off Gennifer, Lia, and Alicia Prewett, none of whom she knew from the Queen of England.

Another event on Ginny's list was the Ravenclaw match. She knew that this one would be the toughest; the Slytherin team was pathetic — they had now lost all three of their matches by a combined score of six hundred ten to fifty, and Hufflepuff was gutsy but slow. Ravenclaw had a decent Seeker in Hector Freeman and they were smart, plus they had now had two opportunities to study Gryffindor; they also had won their first two matches, so if they beat Gryffindor they would take the Cup. Ginny didn't think that her team had many weaknesses — as long as Dennis didn't revert to his old ways — but she wanted to go out with a bang, or at least a solid victory.

She talked about it with Harry and Ron, and decided to double the team's practices until a week before the match at the end of May. She spent hours poring over the magical Harpies book, searching for something new to surprise Ravenclaw with. She explained to the team what she was trying to do, and they took to it with a will, even Jimmy Peakes. The prospects of a perfect, dominating season and possession of the first Quidditch Cup after last year's hiatus motivated everyone. Ginny started holding practices every day except Sundays, and her feeling grew that this would indeed be a special year for Gryffindor.

There was one other grim event, though, that began to dominate her time and her energy. May 2 was the anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts, and the school was planning a great memorial ceremony to which the entire wizarding world was invited. Ginny was involved with the planning, but she also made sure that she saw George as often as possible. He started coming to the castle during the week, and they took long walks around the lake and even into the Forbidden Forest, just to be alone. On weekends Ginny and Harry made sure that both George and Angelina, who had set up a bedroom over the shop at Zonko's, had as much company as they wanted; Harry insisted that they take all their meals at the inn, and they were usually joined by Ron and Hermione.

On Saturday, May 1, the entire Weasley family, plus wife, fiancé, and girlfriends gathered at the Burrow. Charlie had flown in the day before; when he told Ginny that he would be staying until the wedding, she threw herself into his arms in delight.

The family got to meet Percy's friend, Audrey Tinklebell, for the first time. Percy was spared the unmerciful teasing he might have expected from George, because George spent the entire day at Fred's grave with Angelina and Molly. The other family members came and went, but those three never left it until well after dark and Arthur, Bill, and Charlie had come down to insist that they have dinner in the house.

During that day, Ginny quickly came to realize why her mother had been acting like a crazed whirlwind over wedding plans: she needed to distract herself from the approaching anniversary of Fred's death. But as the day before the memorial wore on, neither the wedding nor even the impending birth of her first grandchild could deflect her mind. Molly became more and more distraught. It was almost frightening to Ginny; she had never seen her mother so unable to function, so helpless, always weeping and staring with vacant eyes into the void where her son had vanished.

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