Written for the Inspiration by Shakespeare Challenge (The Merchant of Venice - write about the Ministry)

What Happens at the Ministry, Stays at the Ministry

Ron Weasley

"Ron! Ron, over here!"

Ron looked to where Harry was calling his name and felt something inside of him turn cold. They were completely outnumbered. Kingsley had sent only a dozen Aurors on this mission (more than enough to take on half a dozen dark wizards). No one had anticipated there to be two dozen more hiding throughout the township.

"Ron!"

"Hang on a moment, Harry!" He fired a curse at the ex-Death Eater before him. The spell sent him flying backwards. "I'm coming, Harry!" He made sure the ex-Death Eater was knocked out and then ran across the square to where Harry was trying to battle two wizards at one time.

"You okay?" Ron asked.

"Could use a little help," Harry answered mid-curse. The wizard to his right took a nasty gash to his side, crying out in pain. Ron sent a spell to the other, but it was countered with ease.

"I'll kill Kingsley," Ron said, firing another spell.

"Kill later, fight now," Harry said. "We're not in a good position."

Ron could agree to that. This was the worst they had ever seen it – and he had been an Auror for almost ten years, now.

...

"A bit bruised and beaten, but you'll be fine."

Ron winced as the Healer patted him on his right arm, smiling. "Thanks," he mumbled.

"You're all lucky no one was killed," the Healer continued, turning to a cupboard that stored the common potions. "The worst I've seen so far is Thomas, and even he'll live."

Ron rubbed at another sore spot, this time on his leg. "Hm, we were completely outnumbered," he told her. "Misjudged it."

The Healer nodded absently, handing him a potion. "Take this for the next two days – it's to heal the bruising quicker. And maybe some desk work for a week or so. Why you do such a job is beyond me. Putting your life on the line every day…."

Ron shrugged, stuffing the potion into his pocket. "Someone's got to do it," he said. "Otherwise, they'd be taking over." By they he meant dark wizards.

The Healer let him leave, and the moment he left the hospital room he was greeted by a worried looking Hermione and his two children.

"I heard what happened," she said, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"I'm fine, though," Ron said, hugging her back. "We caught most of them, though."

"You could have been killed."

Ron shook his head. "What's new? Ow!" He almost jumped ten feet as little Hugo's body slammed into his injured leg. Hermione pulled him away.

"Not right now, Hugo," she said. "Daddy's been a bit hurt." She looked back up at him. "Please go home and rest," she said.

"I'm not dying," Ron argued, but there was little heart in his statement. Truthfully, he felt as if he could sleep for days.

"The Ministry have control of the ones you caught," Hermione said. "I just spoke to Kingsley before I came here. The other Aurors will deal with it for now. He specifically said for you and Harry and everyone else who was there to go home and rest and recover. I told him I'd make sure you did."

"Alright," Ron said, sighing. "I'll go home." He looked to his two children who were both watching him curiously. Rose, who was slightly older than Hugo, wore the same worried expression as her mother did. He smiled at her. "I'm alright, Rosie," he assured her. "Nothing bad happened to me."

Also like her mother, Rose didn't seem to believe him. Ron sighed. "Let's go home," he said, trying to sound cheerful. "Who's up for some ice-cream?"

…

Harry Potter

"Potter!"

"Yes?"

"Can I talk to you?"

Harry looked up from the report he was just reading through and into the eyes of the Minister for Magic. Kingsley was serious and he knew that meant this was official business, not a social call. He turned to Ron who nodded without saying anything, assuring him he had the department covered for five minutes, and then followed Kingsley into a private area of the Auror department.

"Everything alright?" Harry asked, trying not to sound too concerned.

Kingsley nodded, indicating Harry should sit. "Everything is as well as can be," he said. "No, I am not bringing you bad news as such."

Harry raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Well, as you are probably well aware, Dunford has been absent from the Aurors for almost two months now. You have been running this department since the attack."

Harry nodded. He remembered that attack very clearly. They had come out mostly unscathed, apart from the head, Marvin Dunford, who had lost some fingers in the ordeal.

"Well, I have spoken to him just this morning and it seems that his injury has taken a greater toll on him than any of us were aware of. He was supposed to be coming back to us next week, but as of this morning, Dunford has purchased a house by the sea and is moving his family there in two weeks. That leaves the official head of the Aurors spot open."

Harry didn't say anything. He knew where this was going, but wasn't entirely sure how to respond.

"Harry, you're our best option."

It had always been Harry's dream to be an Auror, but he had never really seen himself in a leadership position. He would have been happy to sit back and do as he was told. Two months of people constantly coming to him was hard enough; and with three young children….

"I'd be honoured, Minister," he said.

One day, he would probably regret that decision.

…

"Harry, what about the new trainees. Where will they go?"

"Potter, sir, can you read this report over? I'm a bit fuzzy on the details in this place."

"Harry, Hermione wants you and Ginny to come over for dinner tomorrow night. Can you?"

"When's the next mission, sir?"

Being an Auror was not all it was cracked up to be, Harry was realising as person after person, Auror after Auror, came into his private office with ten questions. Right now there were four people standing in front of him, all asking entirely different questions.

He sighed, rubbing his tired eyes. "The trainees will be on shift at random intervals," he said, addressing the first question. "They are mostly learning on the job, so any tips you may have for them, I'm sure they'll appreciate.

"Leave your report here, Greenhope. I'll get to it sometime in the next two days.

"Ron, sure. That sounds great. I'll let her know.

"Let's hope our next mission is not any time soon. We go when and where we're needed."

He looked up at the four faces staring back at him. "Is that all?"

They nodded.

"Good. Now, I don't mean to be rude, but I'm rather busy right now. If you have any further questions, Dean Thomas is right outside the door and he is experienced enough to answer anything you might need."

The three newer Aurors shuffled from the door, leaving just Ron and Harry alone in his office. Ron sat down opposite the desk.

"You okay, mate?" he asked.

Harry nodded. "Yeah… just busy," he said.

"Er, sorry about that earlier, but Hermione was pestering me to ask so I had to before I forgot… er… before I forgot again, I mean."

Harry smiled weakly. "Ah well," he said. "It's about time the kids saw each other again. It's been… three days?"

Ron nodded and they both laughed. "They're going crazy," Ron said.

"Mine, too," Harry admitted. "Alright, I really have to get back to this." He indicated the mountain of paperwork in front of him. "Get Hermione to let Ginny know the time and we'll be there."

Ron nodded, getting up from his chair. He eyed Harry's workload with a mild hint of amusement. "I'm glad I'm not you," he said, and then he left.

Harry sighed. Not for the first time he really wished he wasn't him either.

…

Hermione Granger

Hermione often thought it was good teamwork the way she, Ron and Harry worked together. They were the ones to catch the dark wizards and then she was the one to put them away (or, in some cases) save innocent bystanders from going to Azkaban. She loved her job, and she was able to work closely with her friends and family.

However, there was also a downside to working in magical law and that downside was Draco Malfoy. If she was being completely honest he was very good at his job, but he was also Draco Malfoy. It was very difficult to work closely to one another when there was so much history between them (and not in a good way). They were civil when it was necessary, and communicated when they had to, but most days they were silent partners – barely even looking at each other.

Today, though, was one of the days they needed to speak.

"Granger?"

He was standing by her office door, looking as displeased to be there as she felt to have him. They both had their own offices and only entered the other when it was an emergency.

"Yes, Malfoy?" she asked, trying to sound as pleasant as possible.

"This just arrived." Malfoy took three steps across the room until he was facing her. There was a piece of parchment in his hand in the shape of a letter. Without a word, he put it on her desk and then left. The look of pity in his eyes as he did so did not escape Hermione, and she picked the letter up timidly, wondering what exactly it was that had caused Draco Malfoy to pity her.

…

Hermione fell into Ron's arms, tears rolling down her cheeks uncontrollably. She had showed him the letter just moments earlier; his face had paled and after reaching the last line he had grabbed her, comforting her.

He didn't say anything – not a word – but simply allowed her to cry while he stood there. What could he say? Was she okay? He knew her well enough to know not to ask that.

"I just can't believe it," she said, speaking into Ron's shoulder. "How did it happen?"

Ron only pulled her closer. "It was an accident," he said as gently as he could. "A pure accident."

Hermione swallowed, blinking away the flow of tears that she was unable to control. "But –"

"We'll leave as soon as we can," Ron interrupted before she could say what he seemed to know she was going to say. "We'll go now if that's what you want. We'll pick up the kids and leave right now."

Finally finding the courage to pull away, Hermione looked up at him. She nodded. "I do want to leave," she told him weakly. "I have to."

Ron nodded. "We'll go now, then," he said. "You go home and I'll get the kids, okay?"

Hermione returned his nod. "Thank you," she said.

"And I'll speak to Malfoy," Ron continued. "He's not that much of an arse to not cover for you right now." It was obvious by his tone that he didn't entirely believe that, but Hermione knew it were true. He really wasn't – not anymore.

Ron kissed her cheek and then left in the other direction to sort everything out. Hermione swallowed again, fighting back an invisible lump. When she'd woken up this morning this was not the day she had expected. Of all the possible outcomes she could have predicted, losing her father in a freak accident was not what she had anticipated.

All she wanted was to see her mother.

…

Ginny Weasley

It was the most nerve-wracking experience waiting to see what would show up in the Prophet that morning. She had written a full report on last night's Quidditch match, making sure she had recorded every important moment. She had been a half-decent Quidditch player, but a writer? What if she was rubbish at it? It would be all over the Prophet, itself.

Harry Potter's wife: sacked from the Daily Prophet after one day

She hadn't slept that night. She had kept Harry awake. She reminded herself of Hermione during exam time at Hogwarts, fretting over the very small things. What if the owl she had sent her final copy with went missing? What if the papers were destroyed? What if they completely edited everything she wrote? She hadn't even been this nervous on her wedding day.

"Potter?"

Ginny jumped, spinning around to face a bespectacled man hurrying towards her.

"Yes?" she asked, trying to sound calm despite the butterflies inside her.

"Here's your copy." He passed her a freshly printed copy of the morning Prophet she had asked for. He didn't even wait for her to thank him, but hurried away with at least a dozen more copies under his arm.

Ginny swallowed. This was it; her whole future depended on what was on the first page of the Quidditch section. Half of their income….

Ignoring everything else in the edition, she flicked to where she knew her article would be. Taking up three quarters of the page was a picture of the two Seekers and underneath, bolded, was her name.

She smiled to herself as she scanned what was written. They hadn't changed it much at all. Basically everything she had sent to them to be published was there. She had done it: she was officially the correspondent for the Daily Prophet regarding Quidditch.

…

She had her own office now, situated in one of the furthest away corners at the Ministry of Magic. Initially, Diagon Alley was where the Daily Prophet was located, but they had extended their location by placing some people inside the Ministry; and Ginny was one of them.

She didn't mind, of course. Harry worked here, along with Ron and Hermione, and now she was able to have lunch with them if she could. She liked being so close to her family, she decided. It was better than being away playing Quidditch when she knew they were all back here.

"Last night was a close one, wasn't it?"

Ginny looked to where Kingsley Shacklebolt stood in the doorway of her office. He was leaning against the wall, arms folded, and not at all looking like the Minister for Magic that he was. He actually wore quite a ridiculous grin, if she was being honest.

"You were there?" Ginny asked, surprised. It was normally a big deal if the Minister was at a Quidditch match, and he would be spotted in the Minister's box. She didn't remember seeing him.

Kingsley shook his head. "No, but I've heard from others that it was close."

Ginny nodded. "Three hours and seventeen minutes of the Wanderers and the Catapults scoring alternating goals. It took two hours exactly before the Seekers even spotted the Snitch."

Kingsley let out a deep laugh. "That brings the Catapults to third on the ladder now, doesn't it?"

Ginny nodded again. "Right behind Pride of Portree and the Harpies," she confirmed.

"Will be interesting," Kingsley mused.

Ginny laughed. "Very," she said.

Kingsley's dark eyes fell on her again. "Are you okay here, Ginny?" he asked.

"Here?" Ginny questioned. "You mean…." She waved an arm around her office. "Here?"

Kingsley smiled, nodding. "You're happy here?"

What an odd thing it was for the Minister to personally come to see her – of all people – to make sure she was comfortable.

"I'm perfectly happy here," she assured him. "I'm close to my husband and my brother. It's better than travelling the world and not being home for weeks at a time."

Kingsley laughed again. "Of course," he said. "Well, remember, if you need anything, do not hesitate to ask. I'll have it provided for you in an instant."

Ginny's eyes widened. "Thank you, Kingsley," she said, unable to hide her surprise. "But, I'm okay for now."

Kingsley nodded. "Just let me know, okay?" He left after that, leaving Ginny frowning after him. She had only been here for a few months and working here never ceased to surprise her.

Shaking her head, she returned to reporting on last night's Quidditch match. It was going to be an interesting one now that the Catapults had defeated the Wanderers. It was becoming increasingly more difficult to predict a winner for this season.

…

Draco Malfoy

He was sure that when he joined the law department at the Ministry they all thought he was trying to suck up and win everyone over. His own father was rotting away in a prison cell in Azkaban and his mother's health since the war was deteriorating rapidly. It made sense, he supposed. Perhaps if he had been in their shoes he would think the same thing.

The truth was, though, magical law had always fascinated him. Even as a child and hearing his father complain about the decreasing lack of discipline the Ministry of Magic seemed to have on the wizarding world had interested him.

No one would probably believe it because he had never mentioned it to anyone, but being a lawyer was something Draco Malfoy had always wanted to do. There was no doubt his fellow colleagues were wary of him (could he blame them?) but they worked professionally to meet common goals.

Working with dark wizards was what he had been trained to do. Now, he worked against them; he would work damn hard every day to make sure anyone who practice dark magic was sent to Azkaban.

And he succeeded. No one could deny that he was bloody good at his job and over the past year had set a very high standard for others wishing to take up a career in magical law.

Even though it had not been his intention it pleased him that others now had a great deal of respect for him again. He wouldn't be like his father – not at all – but he was still a Malfoy and that name deserved to be honoured.

…

"Malfoy! There's a disturbance in the court rooms!"

"What kind of disturbance? Anything I need to assist with?" There was no denying the irritation in Draco's voice as he was disturbed for the fifth time in the last hour. He had an important case he needed to prepare for, but incompetent people were making that increasingly difficult. He never thought he'd say it, but he wished Hermione Granger would hurry up and return from her holiday. At least she was capable of managing the little things.

The assistant standing in his doorway – an average-sized man with thinning, brown hair – hesitated. He glanced over his shoulder as if to check and then shook his head. "No… no, I don't think so," he confessed. "It's just…."

"What is it, Dawson?" Draco asked, sighing.

"The disturbance… it's being caused by… by your wife, sir." It looked as if Dawson was ready to duck for cover as he anticipated an outburst from Draco.

Draco, however, merely raised an amused eyebrow. "Is that so?" he asked.

Dawson nodded.

"How is she causing a disturbance?" If he was being honest, Draco was not surprised at all that Astoria was causing trouble in the court rooms. She had a temper on her when she wanted to, and had to have things her way. She was not a lawyer herself, but he assumed it had something to do with the way something was being run.

"Oh… just… she's just…."

"Just being Astoria?" Draco asked.

Dawson nodded weakly, as if he thought saying something against his boss' wife would cost him his job.

Draco nodded. "Very well," he said. "I'm sure that's nothing you can't handle, Dawson, no?" It amused him more than it should have to watch his employee pale.

"Y-yes, s-sir," Dawson stammered.

"Good," Draco answered, "Because I'm rather busy right now."

Dawson nodded.

"Off you go, then."

Dawson scrambled away, leaving a laughing Draco sitting at his desk. He felt sorry for the poor man, truthfully, but there was no way he was dealing with one of his wife's rages whilst trying to work.

He had witnessed enough at home to know it was not for the feint hearted.

…

Dean Thomas

As a boy, Dean Thomas wanted to be a firefighter. Every time he heard a siren he would run to his window and watch as a blurry red truck hurried past his house. He would clap and cheer with delight, urging the truck to go faster (and they always did – well, he always thought they did).

Then he got his Hogwarts letter and everything changed. Gone were the days of fire trucks and racing cars, replaced with the wonders of friends who could do what he could do, and wands and spells and magic. All Muggleborns said they found their home at Hogwarts, and for Dean, that was definitely the truth. He had found a second family.

Dean didn't mind working under Harry at all. Harry had been his friend since he was eleven and in his humble opinion, he couldn't imagine anyone better as the head of the Auror department than the famous Harry Potter. That man had experienced more dark magic in his twenty-five years than most people did in their lifetime. Some people grumbled that Harry already had it all, but Dean would set them straight if he thought a rumour was brewing.

When the Minister for Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt, announced that Harry was their new boss, Dean cheered. They all went to the Leaky Cauldron that evening for a few drinks. Dean was finally working for someone who was worthy of being a leader. Some would disagree, but for Dean, being an Auror meant more to him when he was working with the people who meant a lot to him.

…

"Dean… sorry to be a bother, but you don't think you could send these off to law department, do you?" Harry passed him a bunch of envelopes, each addressed to a Ministry employee. "It's regarding the most recent raid."

Dean accepted, nodding. "No problem, Harry," he said. "I'll have them there in the next ten minutes."

Harry smiled, nodding. Sometimes Dean suspected that he was Harry's favourite Auror apart from Ron. He was a hard worker and had experienced at least half of what Harry had. The three of them were kind of the leaders in this place, teaching and training the younger Aurors where they could. "Thanks," he said.

As soon as Harry returned to his office, Dean was out the door and hurrying down the corridors of his workplace. He could have sent them via memo, but it was not guaranteed they would get there. Of he handed them personally to either Hermione Granger or Draco Malfoy, he was confident everyone would receive their letter.

It was funny how closely they all now worked to one another. When he first started, each department was like a secret club. One had their friends and everyone else didn't matter. But change had come in recent years and now departments (particularly the Auror and law departments) worked together. It ran smoothly and they managed to get things done faster.

He reached the department in under five minutes, where he was greeted by a displeased secretary. "Oh, Mr Thomas," she said, unenthused.

"From Harry Potter." Dean held out the envelopes. "Is Granger or Malfoy here?"

The secretary shook her head. "In the court rooms," she said. "I can pass them on."

"I'd rather leave them on their desks," Dean informed her, moving his hand away so she couldn't grab them. "I'll just –"

"Can't let you do that, Thomas," the secretary said.

"I'll be two seconds," Dean assured her. "I'm not stealing their valuables. You can relax." He and that particular secretary had never seen eye-to-eye – not since he had dated her sister for two months before calling it off.

The secretary looked set to argue, but Dean was past her and into Hermione's office before she could say anything. He placed the envelopes on the tidy desk, scrawling a quick note to say who had sent them, and was on his way again, back to the Auror department.

He ran into many employees along the way, saying hello to anyone he knew. Working at the Ministry of Magic was his dream career. He had wanted to be a firefighter to help people, but as an Auror he could do that, too, and the bonus with this job was he got to use magic in the process.

This was kind of fun to write. They are kind of the people I focus on mostly working at the Ministry post-war. I'm sure there are others, but these ones play a big role in canon or my head canon.

Each bit is set in a different time, so they don't all actually relate, but it was fun to give a little insight into the Ministry of Magic. I hope you all like it!