|| 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐏𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐍𝐞𝐰 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡 ||

The blankets on the bed fidgeted as Harry Potter rolled to his side in his sleep and snored loudly. Drool was dripping from his open mouth and falling on the pillow as his hand dangled from the other edge of the bed. At that moment, Ginny Weasley entered the room, half-way dressed to work and looking exasperatedly at her husband as he slept on. In fact, she looked as she was quite used to this.

“Harry,” she said loudly as she pushed him. “Harry, wake up, it’s time for work. You’re going to be late again. Come on now.”

He grunted, mumbled indistinctly, and gave another massive snore.

Ginny raised her eyebrows at him, but suddenly, she was stuck by an excellent idea. She left the room, then came back after several moments with a half-filled cup in her hand. She tip-toed to Harry’s side of the bed, then splashed the water in his face.

“Slugulus Eructo—” Harry said stupidly, raising his head and looking around, but when he saw Ginny’s grinning face in front of him, he slumped his head on the pillow and groaned, “What did you have to do that for?”

“I was just waking you up,” said Ginny with a fake innocent look on her face, still trying hard not to laugh. “It’s time for work. Come on.”

"Isit?” asked Harry, looking incredulously at the alarm clock beside him while his face leaked with water.

Ginny raised her eyebrows again but didn’t reply and left the room.

Harry was looking after her for a few moments, still annoyed with the sudden rise to consciousness, but he sighed nevertheless and got up to wash himself up.

He entered the bathroom, looking at his misshapen features at the mirror. He could barely see without his glasses, yet he picked up his wand to dry the water and pointed it to his face.

“Scourgify,” he said sleepily, but suddenly, he found a book flying and hitting his head, earning a cry from him.

“What happened?” came Ginny’s voice from downstairs.

“Never you mind, just finish getting ready,” said Harry, his eyes threatening to close again.

As Harry stumbled into the dressing room to get ready, he noticed the enchanted clock on the wall. It had a mischievous streak and loved to play tricks. Today, it decided to speed up time, making the hands spin wildly. Harry groaned, realizing he had only minutes to get ready.

“Not today, Clocky,” he muttered, waving his wand to reset it. The clock reluctantly slowed down, its hands returning to their proper place with a sulky tick.

Harry turned around, and he was greeted by the enchanted wardrobe. The wardrobe had a mind of its own and took pride in selecting Harry’s outfit for the day. This morning, however, it decided to have a bit of fun.

The wardrobe flung its doors open, and clothes started flying out, trying to dress Harry as he stood there half-asleep. Socks danced around his feet, shirts buttoned themselves up, and ties tried to loop around his neck. Harry groaned again, batting away a particularly stubborn tie that seemed determined to strangle him.

“Really? Are you trying to dress me or dress a mannequin?” Harry muttered, swatting away a funny shirt that insisted on buttoning itself up the wrong way. “Come on, we had a deal—you pick the clothes, I wear them, no funny business!”

As a pair of mismatched socks danced around his feet, Harry huffed, “Honestly, you have one job! If you ever pull a stunt like this on a Monday morning, I’ll trade you in for a Muggle wardrobe. And you wouldn’t like that, would you?”

After Harry’s grumbling, the wardrobe seemed to sag slightly, its doors creaking open in a apologetic manner. Slowly, it presented a neatly folded, perfectly matched set of robes, complete with polished shoes and a straightened cravat.

As Harry started to put them on, the wardrobe gave a little shudder, as if excited, and settled back into its place, eager to make amends.

Harry dressed up lazily, without any remote idea of what he picked or what he was doing, and wishing he was in bed again. So, he decided, that in order to wake up, a cup of coffee would do, and he went downstairs.

“Oh, Harry,” said Ginny walking up to him as he passed in the hallway. “That’s not how you tie your cravat. And your collar is upturned,” she let out a chuckle as she tidied him up, “I won’t be surprised if you come back home today and tell me you’re fired.”

“I was just going to make myself a cup of coffee, now that’s not illegal, is it?” scoffed Harry jokingly, somewhat nettled a bit.

“Yeah, you clearly need one,” she smiled as she finished. She took a few steps backward and looked up at him fondly. “Oh, my baby, look at him, all grown up!” She pretended to wipe off a tear.

Harry rolled his eyes and grinned, entering the kitchen. The enchanted coffee pot sensed his presence and started brewing a fresh cup. The rich aroma filled the room, but Harry barely noticed it in his groggy state. The pot floated over to him, pouring just the right amount into his favorite mug.

Without a word of gratitude, Harry took the cup and sipped, trying to shake off the fog of sleep. “I think I need a stronger spell for waking up,” he muttered to himself.

The coffee pot gave a sympathetic gurgle, understanding the struggle.

Harry sat down, trying his best not to fall asleep. Though he found it hard as his eyes began drooping dangerously.

“Are you okay?”

“What?” He jerked his head up at the voice and realized Ginny’s been staring at him worriedly.

“Well, that’s the first time you don’t make a witty answer to my jokes.”

“Oh,” he chuckled, “Just a bit tired.”

“A bit. Yeah right.” Ginny scoffed as she looked at her watch. “Damn, I’d better be going. Vicky said she wanted me extra early today.”

“Huh?” said Harry, apparently not listening to a word she was saying.

“Oh, whatever,” she rolled her eyes and gave him a swift kiss on the cheek. “Bye, Sleepy Harry. Try not to get fired,” she winked one last time and Dissaparated.

“Alright, then. ’bye,” said Harry, not realizing he was too late, but then he looked up when he didn’t get an answer and sighed. He thought of having a ‘few’ more minutes in advantage of the absence of Ginny, but then he disregarded the idea, because he might oversleep and get to work late, or not even wake up at all and not make it.

So, with a huge effort, he picked up his suitcase, and Dissaparated, too, to the Ministry.

As he watched the building from afar, he sighed deeply, unable to explain even to himself why.

But once he entered the building, he actually felt a sudden gloom in his stomach; he felt as though he didn’t want to be here at all.

He walked silently, looking at his feet and attempting to control his urge to walk back out of the doors, until he reached the elevators and pressed the ‘down’ button instead of the ‘up’.

He grimaced at that, then automatically looked at his watch to wash off the embarrassment, but realizing he was seven minutes late. The misery in his stomach intensified rather painfully.

This isn’t going to end well, he thought dispiritedly.

He heard a loud rather screechy sound as the elevator opened, so, bracing himself, he held his breath and got inside.

There were two witches whispering inside, and a wizard entered with Harry. The witches were whispering with heat; and, as the elevator ascended, Harry could feel one of their eyes looking fervently at him as she spoke.

“Level One: Minister for Magic and Support Staff. Offices of the Minister for Magic, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister, and other high-ranking officials. Access restricted to authorized personnel only,′ said the regular female voice in the elevator.

Harry heard rumors that if an unauthorized person steps out of the elevator, a Confounding Conundrum Hex activates and hits them. It instantly surrounds them with an illusion of endless corridors and doors, all leading back to the elevator. They’ll find themselves perpetually turned around and disoriented until security arrives or they’re magically removed. But, of course, he wasn’t stupid enough to prove if it’s real or not.

The dread in his head growing larger and larger, the elevator opened (“Level Two, Department of Magical Law Enforcement, including the Improper Use of Magic Office, Auror Headquarters, and Wizengamot Administration Services.“) and he stepped outside, though not daring to move any further.

He paused in front of the elevator, and looked around, almost as though looking for something desperately, but he couldn’t find it. It was a feeling he couldn’t explain, but he stayed standing for a long time until—

“Mr. Potter!”

He heard the voice call him loudly, making him jump and look around, but then he realized, to his horror, that he was standing in front of the elevator, which opened once again, blocking a man and a woman behind him from passing.

He stepped away hastily, allowing them to walk, and he felt relieved when he comprehended that he wasn’t the only one late.

But it turned out, as Harry scanned to figure out, that both of them had come to deliver a message to a man in a cubicle, which turned out to be too secret to be passed around with memos.

So, feeling worse than ever, he strode over to his office, still dreading what was going to happen next. He opened the door, put his bag down, and sat down behind his paperwork-filled desk that he hated looking at.

His desk was fairly messy. Quills and parchment were all around his desk untidily and some of the quills were writing on their own; the books on the bookshelf beside him were crammed chaotically, some leaning, and others stacked randomly; his ink bottles, both filled and empty, were scattered around the desk; and there were several empty mugs around the desk, and a half-eaten Chocolate Frog completing the look of disarray.

He didn’t mind having his desk like that. True, it was highly disgusting and unhygienic, but he could still work somehow and finish what he needed to do. But either way, the main reason for the chaos in his office, was due to the fact that he hated working as a desk person. He felt unusually useless.

He sighed, looking around at his desk, when he suddenly recognized a yellowish parchment that wasn’t able to attract his attention until this moment. And a fool couldn’t miss it. He knew that colour.

It was a letter from Hogwarts.