Chapter 1
Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN ANY CHARACTER FROM JKR's HP series.
Harriet Potter found herself in the back alleys of London on a routine personal patrol. She liked to be in touch with her rigorous training as an Auror and Hit Wizard, even though due to her recognizability, she could never be publicly known to be a Hit Wizard. On the face of it, she was an unemployed philanthropist, who used her fame and political power to aid in shaping the Ministry of Magic under Kingsley's regime. Wizarding crime was at an all time low, but she still liked to be sure that everything was fine and that any threat was kept at bay. She still sometimes wondered whether Voldemort being gone was just a dream (It's been seven years, Harriet, give it a rest you) and that he would somehow resurface from God-knows-where and burn everything in flames. Being a child soldier, it had become second nature to just be a cynic. She mentally shook her head, and sent a silent apology to Moody, for they had always taken his paranoia as a sign of senility, not PTSD, which in hindsight was but natural...their generation had actually felt the war was over, had peaceful 14 years, and then woke up to the nightmare of Voldemort's tyranny playing out all over again.
"Hey beautiful, watchu doin' in a place like this, that too so late at night?" Harriet turned and saw two ill-dressed, good-for-nothings walking towards her. They had a predatory glint in their eyes, and Harriet smirked internally, they didn't recognise her, were probably drunk Muggles, and at this moment them underestimating her was a huge advantage. "Gentlemen, I request you to please leave me alone, I was just passing through. I'll be out of your hair in a moment." "Gen'leman, she calls us, you heard that Danny-boy?" "I 'eard that Arnie! Well, we 'ave some other plans, Miss. You see, we want your purse at the least...and I'm sure you wouldn't want these stuck in ya, Miss" The two switch-blades glinted at her menacingly. She rolled her eyes. Time to get this show on the road. One silent stunner and high kick later, the two thugs lay motionless on the floor. She muttered a patronus to Ron and Hermione to ask them to get there, instead of the direct meetup at The Ivy as they had planned. Then as she was about to get her cell phone out to call the Muggle Police, she saw a figure rushing into the alley towards her. The silhouette approaching her looked to be a man, who slowed down once he saw her to-be-assailants lying crumpled in a heap. She eyed him a bit warily. "Oh no no, don't worry Ma'am, it's alright, I am an Inspector myself, Daniel Johnson. I saw what happened...I called in the precinct, and was coming to pull those goons off you, but I guess you didn't need the rescuing at all!" He grinned, then extended his arm. "May I accompany you home, Miss-?" " Harriet Potter. I really thank you for the offer Inspector, but I am meeting some friends for dinner...Thank you, truly..."
When the other policemen arrived at the scene, they walked together towards the main street, while Harriet gave the Inspector a full recount of the sequence of events. Hermione and Ron met them at the mouth of the alley. They exchanged a few words of introduction, then the three of them found a secluded place to Apparate. They entered The Ivy, a muggle establishment which was not well known by wizarding patrons yet. These days, it was practically impossible for them to meet up anywhere in public without everyone staring or them getting accosted by The Daily Prophet, or being harassed by people who wanted to schmooze with the society bigwigs. To say that they had done well for themselves would be a big understatement. After the Battle of Hogwarts, it was a slow trudge towards normalcy, but that didn't stop them from jumping at the first opportunity to start their careers. Passing the NEWTs was a formality, which Hermione got both of them to do during their Auror Training. Ron continued with the Auror Office, Hermione delved into the inner workings of the DMLE, and Harriet extended her training to specialize as a Hit Wizard. She also learnt from Gringotts her complete heritage, along with the power that she held at the Wizengamot, thanks to her now being the sole title holder for the Houses Potter, Black, Peverell and Slytherin, by conquest. With that knowledge, she helped Hermione pass the Lupin Legislation for Werewolf Rights, and used her family wealth in establishing an orphanage for magical children. Now, six years down the line, Ron had become the Head Auror, with his strategic thinking and level-headedness during adversity. Hermione was heading the DMLE, and was as just as Madam Bones. Harriet was constantly being harried by Kingsley to take on the role of Minister of Magic, which she had repeatedly been refusing. She didn't need the additional weight of being in the public eye as their leader. "So, what happened? You had everything handled from the looks of it! Bit unnecessary to call for backup when the Lady Who Conquered is at the helm, eh?" "Come of it Ron! You know I detest that title! Also, the officer at the scene had wanted to drop me home, I couldn't very well tell him that I live halfway across town and slinking about dark alleys for the heck of it. So, I told him that we were having dinner at the restaurant around the corner, and I thought that the alley would be a good short-cut. Also, since we were anyway planning on meeting up, I hope it was alright?" "Yes Harrie, it's fine! We have had such a long week...with Ron's new case and my court hearings, we really needed a reprieve this weekend. We have dropped off Rose at the Burrow, and I heard that Bill and Fleur are visiting with Victoire. You should ask Andromeda to drop off Teddy as well!"
After dinner, they split off to go home. Harriet whisked herself off to No. 12, Grimmauld Place. She stepped into the hallway, shrugged off her jacket, and looked about the empty space with a small sigh. It wasn't an unpleasant sight that welcomed her, for now after renovations, the grim old place had a light, airy feel to it. The dark walls were now a cheerful yellow. The house had electric connectivity, and a television installed. Sirius's room had now become Teddy's whenever he came over, with a chest of drawers with his clothes and a column of shelves stacked with all his books and toys. She herself had taken up Regulus's room, which had all white walls except for the one behind the king-sized four-poster bed, which was a slytherin-green. The master bedroom, along with the numerous rooms were there for guests and storage. She had found other letters and keepsakes from both the brother's rooms, too numbing to hold onto, yet too hard to let go off. Diaries of a lost boy, whose very last moments paved them onto the path towards light. Black leather jackets, vinyl records of muggle artists (one band hilariously called Wizzard) and a mechanics handbook for a Royal Enfield, were carefully kept like a sacred shrine. Back in the hallway, the troll-leg umbrella-stand in the corner pulled a bittersweet smile from Harriet. Her thoughts went out to a clumsy pink-haired witch would always trip over it. She sighed again. Somehow, she hadn't moved on. She just couldn't let go. Her thoughts turned maudlin more often-times than not. She had everyone, of course she knew that. The Weasleys, Ron and Hermione, Luna and Neville, Andy and Teddy, but it wasn't enough. They had their own lives to lead and look forward to. Ron and Hermione had a family, not only their parents, but now they had a family of their own. Lovely little Rose, whose Aunty Hawwie was her favourite, and hopeful whispers of another....."We are thinking of trying, I mean, we'll just have to wait and see, you know. I always wanted another for Rose. It had been so lonely for me growing up.."
She hated that she felt this way. Hated that there was a gap in her soul that she couldn't fill. She thought whether some part of her own soul had died that day or not. And yet, the Wizarding World was not done with her. Camera flashes, press conferences, Rita Skeeter's shark-like gleam and toothy smile with a "smile wide for the cameras!!". That Goddamn acid-green quill. She hated it all.