There were two hangers hooked on the door of Harry's closet; one held his Auror's robes, the other a sleek black suit. Harry looked from one to the other. He reached for the suit and pulled his hand back. He looked at the robes and tapped his socked feet on the floor. Harry needed to leave soon, and well, he knew what he was supposed to wear, the robes. The week in the Liar's Department was over, and he was back to being an auror, but...

Harry scrubbed his hand through his hair. He didn't even like the suit. Sure it was so drenched in charms that it fit perfectly and never rubbed or chafed or even made him sweat. And made him look like an actual adult. And a bit taller. And a bit cool. He might like the suit a bit.

He gave up and grabbed them both. He had to wear something under the robes, after all.

The Ministry was busy first thing in the morning as people flooded through the Atrium towards the lifts for the day's work. The air smelled like lattes in paper cups, footsteps rung on the tiles and mixed with conversation until they merged into a general crowd sort of noise.

Harry landed in the apparition zone, and his feet started moving before his brain caught up to what his eyes had seen, a head of white-blond hair heading towards the lifts. He dodged through the crowds, ducking under arms and around billowing robes.

"Draco!" Harry said, popping out of the crowd and catching Draco's elbow.

Draco looked over at him, his sunglasses obscuring his eyes, "Auror Potter."

"Don't Auror Potter me," Harry said.

Draco raised an eyebrow.

"You could just call me Harry, you know," Harry said pointedly.

"In front of all these people? Don't be lewd," Draco said.

Harry laughed, "At this point, I'll take Potter."

"But you are Auror Potter," Draco said, gesturing to Harry's robes.

Harry rolled his eyes, "After saturday-" he stopped, suddenly realising everyone was watching them. He had felt like it was just the two of them, mainly because there was a circle of empty space around Draco like he was infectious.

Harry shook his head at the crowd around them, "Don't you have work to do?"

A few people shuffled guiltily into the lift but more stayed behind to watch, judging, probably fairly, that this would be far more entertaining.

Harry grabbed Draco by the arm and pulled him back behind the reception desk into the narrow stone hallway that led to the supply rooms.

"Draco-"

"Muffliato, please," Draco said, nodding towards the handful of people that were 'nonchalantly' standing near the main desk, their heads conveniently cocked in Harry and Draco's direction.

Harry rolled his eyes and cast the spell, sweeping a curtain of noise distortion around them.

"Where'd you go sunday?" Harry asked.

"Home," Draco said, leaning nonchalantly against the dull grey stone wall.

"Without saying anything?" Harry said.

"Were you hoping for morning cuddles?" Draco asked with saccharine sweet sarcasticity.

"Maybe," Harry said, "Might have been nice, even if you are rather pointy."

Draco's ears took on a hint of a flush, "I wasn't exactly quiet when I left; you sleep like a hibernating bear."

"Only after drinking," Harry said defensively. "Why'd you go, then? You could have stuck around."

"I considered it," Draco said, "Then I saw your bathroom."

"What's wrong with my bathroom?" Harry asked.

Draco raised an eyebrow, "Your shampoo and conditioner are shit and would have ruined my hair. You have a bar of soap, no body wash, no face wash and not even a genetic body lotion, much less something for the face. I don't understand how you aren't a dried out wrinkly prune," Draco said.

Harry shrugged, "Never had an issue."

"I hate you," Draco said.

Harry grinned faintly. "Take off the sunglasses, would you?"

Draco didn't move.

"Just while we're talking, you can put them back on when you go in the lifts. So you can look all imposing and scary, and what-have-you," Harry said.

Draco frowned at him, "I look unapproachable yet respectable and authoritative."

"Same thing," Harry said.

"It is not," Draco retorted.

"Take them off, or I shan't tell you how Hermione reacted when I told her about your freed house-elves," Harry said.

"That's not fair," Draco said.

"We both know not-fair works better when it comes to you," Harry said.

"But that's not how Gryffindor's are supposed to work; they're all doing the right thing and being noble," Draco said.

"Technically, it's doing what they think is noble and the right thing. It can be a bit tricky that," Harry said, "And I'm pretty flexible." He paused and grinned to himself, "In more ways than one."

"Was that meant to be funny?" Draco asked.

"Cause I'm bisexual? So I'm flexible," Harry said, pointing to himself.

Draco looked doubly unimpressed, "That was so poorly done; it's an insult to all other jokes to even call it a joke. Since you're too dim to do it yourself, I suppose I shall have to feel sorry for you."

"Oh, shut up, you prat," Harry said.

"I have no intention of ever shutting up for the rest of my life," Draco said.

"I noticed," Harry said with a teasing tone. He turned and pretended to leave, "Well if you don't want to know what happened-"

"Of course, I do," Draco said irritably as Harry spun back around. He pulled off his sunglasses and slipped them into his pocket, "There. Happy?"

"Temporarily."

Draco narrowed his eyes.

"You don't really expect me to be happy all day, do you?" Harry said, "I don't think I could manage it." "When we first became reacquainted, I was fairly certain you spent all day being surly and generally miserable," Draco said.

"Closing out a scene is always generally miserable," Harry said.

"Tell me what happened, you promised," Draco said.

"I didn't promise," Harry said.

"Just tell me, you berk!" Draco said, slipping into childishness in his frustration.

"Alright, alright," Harry said with a laugh and then told Draco the story. He seemed pleased with Hermione reaction and completely delighted when Asbestos showed up, grinning hugely at what Asbestos told Hermione before up and leaving with her little recipe card in tow.

But it didn't make Draco laugh.

"No, really, she looked like this," Harry did his best to imitate Hermione's shocked fish face, exaggerating the big eyes and open mouth, putting his hands on the sides of his face like fins.

Draco snorted into a laugh, half-covering his mouth with one curled hand. Harry smiled in return, marvelling at how good happiness looked on Draco.

"We're going to be late for work," Draco pointed out.

"I'm sure Asbestos is keeping track of things," Harry said.

"For me, yes," Draco said, "You, however, seem to be severely lacking in personal secretaries."

Harry shrugged. "I'll take the lecture. Might even say I wasn't feeling well. I still have some sick leave."

"How rebellious of you," Draco said.

Harry laughed. "Mostly, I just want to see how the meeting with Oblivator's is going to go. Hermione's talking with them today to sort everything out, and once she does, then-"

"Don't."

"What?" Harry's brow furrowed.

"I don't want to hear it," Draco said.

"My fairytale future, yeah, I remember-"

"I have had my hopes dashed so many times over the past few years that I can't tolerate it anymore. I feel as if I might break in two," Draco said, his voice more serious than Harry had heard all week.

"They won't be dashed," Harry said.

"You don't know that, not for certain," Draco said.

"Nothing is ever really certain, is it? So-"

"Stop it, or I'll leave, Potter. I won't say it again," Draco said coolly.

Harry didn't understand it, almost couldn't. The only way he made it through school, through the last years of the war, was by desperately dreaming of a better future.

"...Okay," Harry said slowly.

"Okay?" Draco said suspiciously.

Harry nodded. It wasn't something to start a fight over. Just because he didn't understand it didn't mean he couldn't respect it.

"Do you want to get something to eat after work?" Harry asked.

Draco's brow furrowed.

"You can pick. I'm sure you have a list of restaurants a mile long," Harry said.

"Are you asking me on a date?" Draco asked.

"Yes, unless you think sticking my hand down your pants is platonic somehow," Harry said.

"I should hope not," Draco said, "Should I be worried about the state of your friendships?"

"Ron and Hermione only stick their hands down each other's pants," Harry said.

Draco's nose scrunched in disgust, "Ugh."

"Yeah," Harry nodded solemnly.

"Why would you tell me that?" Draco said.

"I like to share my suffering," Harry said.

Draco rolled his eyes, "Go to work, Potter."

"You didn't say."

"Say what?" Draco said.

"Yes, to the date," Harry said.

"Of course, yes," Draco said, "Call for Asbestos when you're done; she can apparate you to me."

"Great," Harry said.

Draco looked away, his cheeks faintly pink, "Quit grinning like an idiot and go to work."

Harry did not quit grinning like an idiot, but he supposed he should get going, "I'll see you later."

Draco waved him off, not entirely hiding how pleased he was.

Harry took the lifts up but got off on level three, heading straight to the reception desk. The young woman behind the long curved desk looked up at his footsteps and raised an eyebrow. Her name tag read Ava.

"Excuse me-" Harry started.

Ava stood up, leaning over the counter to look at Harry from the top of his head down to his shoes.

Harry smiled politely, "Yes, I am Harry Potter."

"I could tell," Ava said, waving at him, "If I'm gonna tell my friends I met you, they're going to want details."

"Err, okay," Harry said.

"You must not take a good photo," Ava said, dropping back into her chair.

Harry looked at her in confusion.

"You always look a bit... shite in the Prophet," Ava said.

"That's mostly on purpose," Harry said, "I hate the Prophet."

"On purpose like, you look bad on purpose? Or they only use the worst photos in their articles?" Ava asked.

Harry shrugged, "A bit of both."

Ava nodded, "You do look alright in Witch Weekly, sometimes."

"Thanks?" Harry said. "So, uh, Hermione Granger has a meeting with the Obliviation Department today. I was wondering if they were here already? Or maybe the meeting already happened?"

Ava slowly swivelled her chair around, looked up at the clock on the wall and then slowly turned back to him. She raised a perfectly arched brow at him, "It's eight-thirty."

"I just wanted to check because Hermione tends to be very punctual," Harry said.

Ava stared at him, "A meeting with Obliviation, you said? I'm pretty sure only Jeremy is in so far, but he's the Muggle-Worthy Excuse Committee."

"The whole muggle-worthy excuse committee? Is one person?" Harry asked.

"Used to be three, but Leon retired, and Andrea couldn't stand working with Jeremy alone." Ava looked over Harry's shoulder and plastered on a bright smile, "Morning, Jeremy!"

Harry followed her gaze to a tall bean-pole of a bloke with glasses. He had a thick manilla folder and gave a startled wave back before realising he was doing it. A couple comic books fell out of the folder onto the floor, and Jeremy scrambled to pick them up and bolted into an open office.

"Jeremy just gives off, like, some intense awkward vibes, and eventually you can't stand it and have to try and make it less awkward, and somehow that only makes it even more awkward, sort of thing?" Ava said, "He's not too bad with other people around; they kind of, dilute the awkward."

"So Jeremy, the Muggle-Worthy Excuse Committee, works alright with only one person?"

"So far," Ava said, "Jeremy makes a couple new excuses every day. He has tons saved up for all sorts of situations."

"So far," Harry repeated flatly. It sounded depressingly, exactly like something the Ministry would do.

The lift rattled to a stop behind them, letting out a tired-looking and then very annoyed-looking Hermione.

"Hullo, Hermio-"

"What in the world are you doing here?!" Hermione demanded, storming over to the desk.

"I-uh, well, I was just... passing through?" Harry tried, and then immediacy backtracked, "I wanted to see how the meeting was going, I wasn't going to do-"

"Do you have any idea how much paperwork is involved in filing for overtime?"

"any- What?" Harry said in confusion.

"You've only had one day off, Harry," Hermione said slowly, "You're supposed to have two, Harry. Work over forty hours requires being paid overtime, Harry. And as the head of the department, I have to fill out the paperwork, Harry."

Harry leaned away from her, the edge of the desk digging into his back, "I- I thought I was back to working for the aurors?"

"Two days off," Hermione held up two fingers, "Two."

"I- I mean, I haven't done any actual work yet. I... I just felt like wearing my uniform today? And visiting the ministry? On my day off?" Harry said.

Hermione breathed out, relaxing fractionally.

Harry froze as he remembered-

"What?" Hermione's eyes narrowed.

Harry considered lying but decided being caught out later would be far worse than anything he dealt with now, "....I saw Draco in the Atrium this morning."

Hermione groaned, grabbing hold of the desk to keep herself up.

Harry glanced over at Ava, who was watching them with interest. She waved at them idly, "Oh, don't mind me."

"Maybe there won't be any work today," Harry told Hermione, "I mean, if we're supposed to be off, then any jobs would be sent here, right?"

"I very much doubt I'll be so lucky," Hermione grumbled.

Harry was saved from having to say anything else by the lift doors opening and a small group of people stepping out. Most of them headed towards one of the large cubicle rooms, but one older man broke off from the rest and walked over to them.

He looked uncannily like a plumber. Not any plumber in particular, but the soul of a plumber seemed to inhabit the man's body. He was slightly overweight, wore practical trousers and slightly frayed tweed flat cap. Harry would have bet anything that the man was bald under the hat.

Hermione straightened, wiping all signs of distress from her expression and replacing it with a bright smile, "Mr Spiffing! I know I'm early but seeing as you only come to the office once a week, I just wanted to make sure we could talk today."

"You're Ms Granger, then?" Mr Spiffing said with an amiable expression.

"Yes, sir. I sent you a copy of my proposal. I don't know if you had a chance to read through it?" Hermione said, "If not, I'd be happy to go through it with you and answer any questions you might have."

Mr Spiffing hooked his thumbs into his belt loops and rocked back on his heels, "I read it. You were very thorough."

Hermione hesitated, sensing the unspoken 'but' and tried to skirt past it anyway, "Wonderful! Then you understand that The Liar's Department is effectively redundant, as it does the same things you already do."

"But without magic," Mr Spiffing said.

"Yes... but both departments goal is to hide magic use from muggles," Hermione said.

Mr Spiffing chuckled, "I am sorry, Ms Granger."

Hermione's face fell.

"It's not your proposal, or even the reputation of your Mr Malfoy. I read through the reports your group finished in the last week, and it would be an absolute boon to have them join on," Mr Spiffing said.

"I don't understand. What's the problem?" Hermione asked.

"The Department has been under a hiring freeze for over a year now," Mr Spiffing said, "I know technically it's not a new employee, but adding anyone new to my personal rosters would count just the same," Mr Spiffing said. "I've put in plenty of requests to hire on another crew, but as long as I have enough to technically function, I can't get anyone new."

"That's-" Hermione shook her head in confusion, then her brow furrowed in thought and furrowed further. She asked warily, "Do you happen to know who's in charge of hiring and staff numbers?"

"It's a bloke from the Wizengamont that oversees the whole thing, hmm....it started with an S, I think," Mr Spiffing rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

"Suirup?" Harry suggested, hoping he was wrong.

Mr Spiffing snapped his fingers, "That's the ticket, Salsa Syrup! He oversees hiring and payroll! A right pain in the arse, that one."

Harry and Hermione both nodded in silent agreement.

"If anything changes, I'll take on your little Liar's, no problems," Mr Spiffing said, "Anything else I can help you with?"

Hermione shook her head, her smile forced and brittle, "No. Thank you for seeing me."

"No problem," Mr Spiffing said, touching the brim of his cap and heading into his offices.

Harry headed straight for the lifts.

"Harry!" Hermione yelled after him, a second too late to stop him, "What are you doing?!"

Harry pushed the button for the second level, "I'm going to give that little shit-eater a piece of my mind."

"Harry, don't-!" Hermione's voice was cut off by the rising lift.

Harry squeezed out the lift doors as soon as they began to roll open, "Is Suirup here? Is he in?" he called to the desk, causing the young man behind it to jump in surprise.

"S-Sir Suirup? No sir, he just went down to the courtrooms to get some files, or it could be a meeting; I-I don't think the court is in session today, I can check-"

"Thanks," Harry said, stepping back into the lift and hitting the button for level ten. The doors were stopped from closing when a turquoise velvet armchair appeared between them, followed in a few seconds by Hermione, very irate and winded from running up a flight of stairs.

Harry stepped back as she flourished her wand, the armchair floating up a few inches and then shooting back into Harry's chest, pinning him into the corner of the lift.

"Hermio-" Harry started but had the wind knocked out of him again when Hermione sat heavily in the armchair, pining him tighter to the wall. The doors closed with a soft ding, and the lift began descending.

"Are you an idiot?" Hermione said between gulps of air. "Confronting Suirup will only make things worse."

"How?" Harry said, his voice a little pinched, "He's pretty much ruined everything already."

"He could destroy every proposal I ever make," Hermione said.

"Doesn't he already?" Harry said.

"-Could tell everyone I don't know what I'm doing, ruin my credibility-"

"Again. It seems like he's already-"

"He could get me demoted," Hermione said.

"You might get more done at this rate," Harry said.

Hermione tilted her head up, looking at Harry over the back of the plush blue velvet. Her expression on the edge of devastation, "I've worked so hard, Harry."

"I know," Harry said.

"I don't want to start over," Hermione said, biting her bottom lip.

"You won't be. Me and Ron will back you up. There are plenty of other people who can help. You'll have a better job in no time, in whichever department you want," Harry said.

"I want the job I have," Hermione said, "I want to be able to do the job I have."

"Then let's feel Shit-taster out, see if we can get any info. If he's been targeting anyone or any other departments that we could talk to, get statements, get proof, and then take it to Kingsley," Harry said.

Hermione huffed a faint laugh, "It's not that simple."

"We defeated a dark lord, remember?" Harry said.

"You can't defeat a politician. If you try they just use it for clout," Hermione said.

The lift slowed as it reached the lowest level and came to a stop. Hermione slowly pushed herself up, taking a deep breath.

"You were winded by one flight of stairs?" Harry couldn't help teasing.

"Stuff it. I don't have time to waste running about. I have actual work to do," Hermione said, stepping out of the lift and giving her eyes a discrete wipe to get rid of any pesky tears.

"Ouch. What about the armchair?" Harry asked, stepping out after her.

Hermione turned around to dispel the conjured chair, but the lift doors gently closed before she could even raise her wand and headed back up, taking its new chair with it.

The tenth level always seemed darker than the other floors. The floor was a polished black stone that seemed to absorb the lighting charms high overhead, the walls were panelled in a dark wood, and the brass fittings were dull with age. The ceilings were unreasonably tall as the entry hall lead into the heavy, imposing double doors of the courtroom where the galleries of the Wizengamont sat high above the defendant's docket and visitor seating on the floor below.

On either side of the entryway were two other, far more discrete doors. One led to the Ministry holding cells where they held people before trial and on short term imprisonment.

"It's this way," Hermione said, pointing to the other door.

The foyer was unnervingly quiet, their footsteps ringing loudly on the stone floor.

"I've never been to this side," Harry said to break the silence.

"It's just three conference rooms and a filing room," Hermione said. "I'd swear they're haunted, though. I feel like I'm in a low budget horror movie every time I have to come down here."

Hermione grabbed the dull brass doorknob, but before she could turn it, it was pulled out her hand by one Sir Salas Suirup as he attempted to go through the very same doorway they were stood in.

Suirup's moustache bristled. He pulled his shoulders up and back, his chin lifting, like a proud and haughty bird. "Miss Granger, I am surprised to see you down here. I had assumed your new duties would be keeping you quite occupied."

Hermione hesitated then drew herself up as well, her tone cool, "I was looking for you, actually."

"I really don't have time right now," Suirup said, trying to step around Hermione and nearly walking right into Harry. He froze in surprise, and, for just the skin of second, Harry could have sworn he looked completely terrified. "I-I Auror Potter. I didn't- what are you doing here?"

Harry felt himself slipping into his old instincts and didn't answer Suirup's question, not even to lie. There was something else bothering him, a niggling little thought, "...The receptionist said you were coming down here to get some files?"

Suirup looked down at his empty hands and said quickly, "Ah, well, it was more to- to refer. I came down to refer to some files."

"I was speaking to Mr Spiffing, the head of the Obliviation," Hermione said, "He said you're in charge of Hiring and Payroll."

"I have many duties," Suirup said, turning to step between them. "Now, if you'll excuse me-"

Harry shifted his weight, carefully blocking more of the doorway.

Suirup's eyes glanced between them, then behind them at the empty hall, "Ah, it's just you then," he said. Suirup's posture relaxed almost instantly, and he reached up to twist the waxed end of his moustache into a tighter point, "Hurry up then. I do have an appointment to keep."

Hermione stiffened, barely tamping down on her anger. "Mr Spiffing said that you placed a hiring freeze on his department even though he needs more obliviators."

"Every department thinks they need more help, and yet they still manage to run," Suirup said. "If a department can show they absolutely need to hire someone new, then I would obviously authorise it."

"The entire Obliviation department has to be call at all times because they don't have enough employees to cover a full range of shifts," Hermione said, "They can barely afford to come into their offices once a week. What if there's an emergency? What if they need to revise department policy?"

"What if indeed, Miss Granger?" Suirup said, his tone taking on a condescending tone, "The Ministry doesn't operate on 'What if's'. It operates on a budget."

"The Ministry won't operate at all if key departments like Obliviation fail in an emergency!" Hermione snapped.

Suirup tsk-tsk-tsked under his breath, "Well, obviously getting the right balance the people working in a department is very important. But ever since last year, with the new transfer program making it so easy for people to move around, well, it made quite a mess of things."

Hermione blinked in utter disbelief.

"It's been such a headache for me. The hiring freeze was just... a necessary stabilising measure," Suirup said, looking impossibly smug as he told Hermione this.

"This isn't my fault." Hermione snapped, "You can't blame this on me. You're just using it as an excuse to- to punish me! To put me back in my place!"

"If only that worked, Miss Granger," Suirup said, "I wouldn't say your little transfers were a bad idea. They have potential. And of course, I saw no need to keep the menials from transferring as they pleased."

"The menials?" Harry said in disgust.

Which Suirup utterly ignored, "It's not as if they're going to affect anything. But, I strongly believe that your transfers could be best utilised by personal example."

Hermione stared at him.

"Which is to say your nosiness-" Suirup cleared his throat, "I mean, talents, might be better utilised elsewhere. Surely you don't want to spend your whole life as a clerk."

"I don't," Hermione cut him off.

Suirup raised his eyebrows expectantly.

"I'm not transferring," Hermione snapped.

Suirup sighed.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked, "What's the fucking point of this? You know we can just go to Kingsley with everything you've said. It's not like he won't believe us; we can show him our memories."

"Ah, how quaint. Running to the headmaster for help, are we?" Suirup said, "I'm afraid that doesn't work here. A Wizengamont member cannot be removed by the Minister. If a chair is up for vote, a new member might be brought in, but I'm from one of the old families that founded the Wizengamont. I cannot be voted out by anyone other than the Wizengamont itself. And it must be by a two-thirds majority."

Suirup's smile was particularly unbearable as he carefully twisted the other point of his moustache. "I'm sure some might say my treatment of you hasn't been terribly... benevolent, but any complaint you brought to the Minister or Wizengamont would result in a reprimand at most."

Suirup was looking pleased as punch as he pushed past them, neither Harry or Hermione having the wherewithal to stop him. "Being a bit harsh isn't against the law," he added.

"A bit?" Harry said, "You're trying to ruin Hermione's career!"

Suirup took a few steps into the foyer before turning back around, "If you really believe that, then it might be best if Miss Granger considered a new line of work in a more agreeable department."

There was a faint rattle as the lift started coming back down.

Hermione hand's were clenched into fists, "So you hate muggle-borns, is that it? Just another blood-supremacist-"

"I wouldn't say that," Suirup interrupted, "It's more a problem with... your entire generation."

The lift doors opened, and a pair of Junior Auror's came out and went to cover the entrance to the stairs. Right behind them were two Auror's that spread out to flank the two Senior Aurors, Shunter and Leon, at the head of the group. All of them were walking on silenced feet with their wands drawn.

Suirup went on oblivious to the auror's coming up behind him, "You young people all seem to think you know what's right. Always thinking things need to change and sticking your nose in where it doesn't belong."

Harry let his arms swing back behind his robes and eased his wand from his sleeve holster. Hermione was very, very carefully, keeping her eyes on Suirup as if she was actually interested in his petty tirade.

"Salas Suirup?" Shunter said clearly, her voice ringing around the room.

Suirup blanched and spun around to face the group of aurors, "Y-yes? Is there-" he tried to clear his throat, but his voice only came out at even more of a squeak, "is there something I can help you with?"

"You are under arrest for money laundering, misappropriation of Ministry funds, embezzlement of Ministry funds-"

"I- I have no idea what you're talking about!" Suirup interrupted, shuffling backwards a step, "This is slander! Lies! I won't have my name dragged through the mud like this!"

Shunter went on as if she hadn't heard him "-and destruction of Ministry property."

"Proof! Where is your proof!" Suirup demanded.

"Well, the Auror department placed tracking charms on the files you just vanished from the Wizengamont's filing room in order to cover your trail. Will that do?" Shunter asked. She smiled, "Not to worry, we made copies."

Suirup turned as if to run and saw Hermione and Harry blocking the way. His eyes skittering around the room. The only exits were covered; the other doors led to dead-ends. His hand shot into his robe, fumbling to pull out his wand.

"Expelliarmus!" Harry shouted.

Suirup's wand jumped from his hand, clattering across the floor far out of reach.

Someone laughed. And everyone turned to look back at the lift doors, except Shunter, who never took her eyes off of Suirup, to see Ron standing at the back of the group. He raised his hands apologetically, "Sorry, sorry. That's just classic Harry."

Harry glared at him, and Ron had to press his hand over his mouth to keep from laughing again.

"Should we add resisting arrest to your list of charges, Mr Suirup, or will you come peacefully?" Shunter asked.

Suirup's moustache quivered, and he blinked rapidly like he was trying hard not to cry, "I wish to speak to my solicitor."

"And you shall, Mr Suirup, right after I read you your right to silence and find you a nice safe little cell to wait in," Shunter said pleasantly, gesturing to the other side of the room and the door leading to the holding cells.

The two Auror's took Suirup by the arms and led him across the floor, Shunter a step behind as she read out his rights.

"You lads collect the accused's wand," Senior Auror Leon told the Juniors. Leon was the oldest Senior Auror, a bit hunched with age with a long white beard streaked with grey. He was too old for raids and dangerous missions but often took point on intel and data gathering for the department. "We'll file it into evidence and cast a priori incantatem on it to record the past couple spell uses. Evanesco should be the first one if we've done our job right."

"What about me, sir?" Ron asked.

Senior Auror Leon turned to Ron with a smile, "Well, I suppose you can take the witness statements of these two, see what they were up to."

Ron glanced over at Harry and Hermione with a grin, "Sure. No problem."

"Once you've done that and all the paperwork is in order, go on home. And take the tomorrow off, as well," Leon said, "You've worked yourself to the bone lately; a break would do you good."

"Yes, sir!" Ron said.

"And I'll be putting in a recommendation for you," Leon said.

"A recommendation, sir?" Ron asked.

Leon nodded, a slow dip of the head, "For promotion. You've certainly earned it, and I look forward to the work you'll do as a proper Auror."

Ron's face lit up, "Yes, sir! Thank you, sir!" He managed to hold himself still until Leon had started over to the Juniors before running over to them, Hermione meeting him halfway in a hug that spun them both around from the momentum. Harry would have thought it was cute if he wasn't obligated to give them a hard time about it. That was what friends were for, after all.

"Did you hear that-!"

"That was amazing-!"

The two of them excitedly talked over one another until Ron leaned down to kiss Hermione, shutting them both up.

Harry rolled his eyes as he walked over to join them, "Now, will you tell us about the big case you were working on?"

Ron grinned and hooked an arm around Harry's shoulder, pulling him into the hug, "Congratulate me first, you shite."

"Congrats," Harry said, "Should have happened ages ago."

Ron grinned.

Hermione sighed into Ron's robes, "Merlin. I really can't believe it."

"So what was all of that, then? Money laundering? Embezzlement?" Harry asked.

"It started with those potion shop ledgers that were off. Leon thought it was potion smuggling, then we realised it was money laundering because there weren't any actual potions being made. Then I noticed that one of the customers 'buying' these potions was the Ministry. It turned out the other purchases were fake, just business fronts, so all the real galleons were coming from the ministry," Ron said.

"And Suirup-?" Harry said.

"Was in charge of Office supplies and Acquisition," Ron said, "He's been running the whole thing for decades. The Ministry used to have a healer on staff during business hours and a mediwitch after hours. Suirup changed the healer for a mediwitch, then got rid of the mediwitch after hours, turned the only mediwitch left into an assistant mediwitch and 'potions'; lots and lots of utterly fake potions. He did the same with all the supplies, as far as we can tell. Charged the Ministry for loads of high-quality stuff and brought in cheap shite ones instead."

"Like the quills," Harry said, remembering Percy's complaints yesterday.

"Like everything," Ron said.

"And no one noticed?" Hermione said.

"He spent decades at it, changing things just a bit at a time," Ron said.

"He was in charge of Hiring and Payroll, as well. How does that fit in?" Harry asked.

Ron shrugged, "Less people hired, more money to siphon off. We haven't tracked it all down because he was using banks all over the wizarding world, but we figure he's stolen millions of pounds from the Ministry over the years."

Hermione gasped.

"Then you came along," Ron said.

"Me?" Hermione frowned.

"Brightest witch of our age, getting promoted left and right, throwing out brilliant ideas everywhere you go-" Ron said, "My best guess, you scared the pants off him. If anyone was going to catch on to what he was doing, it would have been you."

"You are the only researcher that talks to all the Departments," Harry said.

"We were lucky to get the ledgers to start with," Ron said, "And even luckier that when we started looking into these things, Suirup was distracted by you two causing trouble."

"Glad to help," Hermione said with a sarcastic eye roll.

Ron shifted his weight, squeezing both of them a little tighter, "There's one other thing, you probably ought to know..."

"Oh no..." Hermione groaned.

"Okay, so.... If Suirup is convicted of all this stuff, and he will, it's a pretty air-tight case, then he can't hold a seat on the Wizengamont," Ron said, "In fact, cause he committed crimes against the Ministry, his inherited seat will be turned into an elected seat."

"That's good," Harry said.

"There's more," Ron said, looking like he was fighting down a grin, "They'll put someone in the seat temporarily until the next election, and they always pick a department head, preferably one that's never held or turned down a seat on the Wizengamont. And there's only one department head that's never held a seat before," he looked at Hermione meaningfully.

"What?" Hermione's mouth fell open, "What?"

Ron grinned properly, "It's only temporary, but it shouldn't be too hard to win it properly once you've shown what a good job you can do, right?"

"I- What?" Hermione said faintly.

"I think you broke her, mate," Harry said.

"Nah. I haven't. Hermione's made of tougher stuff than that," Ron said.

"I can't believe it," Hermione said, "I can't believe you."

"I didn't do anything," Ron laughed, "You getting the job would have happened with or without me."

"Not without you breaking the case," Harry pointed out.

"Someone else would've-" Ron started.

But he was cut off by Hermione hugging him tightly around the neck and pressing kisses all over his cheeks, "Shut up, you! God, you're terrible, horrible, wonderful, I want to marry you so much!"

Ron laughed, squeezing her around the waist so he could pick her up off the floor, "Yeah, of course. Always figured your proposal would be nicer than this, though."

Hermione wiggled back to the ground and pointed a finger at Ron, "That's not a proper proposal; it doesn't count."

"Yeah, I suppose. We decided to wait anyway," Ron said.

"Hmm," Harry said, "Wasn't it that you wanted to wait until you got... What was it...? A promotion or something?" He pointedly looked from one to the other, "And now you have two."

Hermione and Ron stared at one another.

Harry laughed. "Okay, first off, I'm staying neutral. I'm not going to pick sides between the two of you. And second, say, give it a month? Then it's best proposal wins."

"Shouldn't it be first proposal wins?" Hermione asked.

"Where's the fun in that?" Harry said.

Ron grinned, "I like it."

"I want two months," Hermione said.

"Wa-No way!" Ron said, "There's no way I can beat you if you have two months to prepare."

"One month is far too short," Hermione said.

"Month and a half?" Harry suggested.

Both Ron and Hermione were frowning but reluctantly nodded.

"Shake on it," Harry said.

Ron rolled his eyes at Harry but stuck out his hand. Hermione shook it with a stubborn set to her jaw.