What's up, people?! I've finished up a new chapter for you. You know what the great thing is, too? I've got a couple of papers yet to write for school, but after this upcoming week, I'm pretty much done with the school semester.

Hooray! That means more writing for you guys!

I'll shut up now. Enjoy your chapter.

Chapter 8: What a Hypocrite

"Head Auror Potter?"

Harry perked up, dropping the household design magazine that had furnished the Minister's waiting room and setting it on the side table.

"Minister Shacklebolt is available to see you now, sir," Kingsley's secretary smiled. Harry thought her name was Tonya, but he was nowhere near certain enough to say it aloud.

"Thank you," Harry beamed instead and let himself into Kingsley's office.

Kingsley's office was the largest in the entire Ministry with light shining in from the enchanted windows behind his desk. Awards and former relics from his Auror days adorned Kingsley's bookshelves. The Minister was standing over some kind of official form, appearing slightly agitated but otherwise his calm, composed self.

"Good morning, Harry," Kingsley's deep voice rumbled. He gave up on the form to seat himself at his desk, beckoning for Harry to sit a moment later. "Have you enjoyed your week off?"

Harry could not help but snort at Kingsley's phrasing. "So a week off, eh? That's what we're going to call it?"

Kingsley frowned at him. "Considering that it was an assigned break that you needed for your own mental health, Harry, yes. That is precisely what we are going to call it."

Harry stared at him blankly before sniffing and looking away. His mental health was just fine, thank you. "Funnily enough, Kingsley, I did. I enjoy my time off. I was bored out of my mind and angry at first but it gave me a chance to put some things into perspective and for me to think about the things that I want in life. I'm sure you'll be happy to hear that."

"Of course!" Kingsley gave him his first smile of the day. "Harry, I hated being the big bad Minister last week. I really did. But all I want for you is your own happiness. And I want your safety, as well. You're much too good at your job to be taking on so much unnecessary responsibility and risk."

Oh boy. Harry wanted to roll his eyes and lay into Kingsley for that. 'No, what you want is your figurehead that gives you so much good will to remain a figurehead,' Harry wanted to say. 'You want me to sit in an office and do paperwork while others do the real job.'

But Kingsley Shacklebolt was a good man. He was a man who had stood by Harry's side in the fight against Voldemort. And most importantly, Harry had come to think of Kingsley as a tentative friend. And so, Harry kept his volatile thoughts to himself.

"About that, Kingsley," Harry sighed softly. "I wanted to come in and talk to you about this in person because this really isn't something to say over owl post. Um…I'm going to be taking some time off."

Harry watched in grim interest as the joy drained from Kingsley's face. He recovered quickly.

"Well," Kingsley grimaced, drawing his wand over a portion of his desk that summoned reports. Harry saw his face appear on the desk as Kingsley scoured over the words. "It looks like you have…three weeks of vacation with pay collected here for you to use. I'll have to inform Robards, of course, as well as Dawlish but – "

"It's going to be longer than that, Kingsley."

Kingsley went silent immediately, but not before letting out an aggravated grunt. "…How long will it be, then, Harry? Our Auror Department needs its Head Auror."

Harry furrowed his brow in disbelief as Kingsley's words. He knew what Kingsley was pulling, trying to persuade him to stay, and he felt the need to point it out. "Weren't you just talking about how my safety and mental health are most important to you?"

"Of course it is," Kingsley looked as if he tasted something sour. "But Harry, the Ministry has not had this much success with its Auror Department in decades. Outside funding for its Auror Department has never been higher than right now with you at the helm. We need you in that position. Why, it was partly the reason why we decided to…"

Kingsley pursed his lips and shook his head, but Harry felt the stirrings of anger swirl in his stomach.

"Oh, don't stop there," Harry's voice sounded much too normal to his own ears to be genuine. "Please continue. It was why you…?"

Kingsley frowned at him. "You're twisting my words, Harry. All I was saying is that –"

" - Is that you have been using my name and reputation to make money," Harry finished for him. "You used my reputation to make the Ministry money. That's why you chose me as Head Auror."

"That's not what I meant, Harry – "

"Then how the fuck did you mean it, Kingsley?!" Harry growled angrily, pushing back from his chair to stand. "That's quite literally the only way it can be meant!"

Kingsley ran the back of his hand over the sweat that was collecting on his forehead. "But it doesn't paint the entire picture! This is politics, Harry, as much as I hate it. It's never that simple!"

"It is to me!" Harry countered hotly. "'You know who we should hire as Head Auror? Potter! Think about all the Galleons he'll rake in!'"

"Crime rates are at a 14 year low! Violent crime rates are the lowest they've been in three decades! Citizen approval of Aurors is at an all-time high! Reports of Dark Magic are the lowest they've been in 73 years, Harry!"

Harry looked down his nose at Kingsley, his chest heaving with contempt. "One question, Kingsley," Harry whispered in a hopeless attempt to keep his voice from shaking. "Let's say my team is working to track down a small group of violent suspects and my team gets captured. It's a life or death situation. What would you have me do?"

Kingsley blinked at him in shock. "You come back to get reinforcements and to consult with strategists of course, but –"

"That's all I needed to hear."

Harry opened his robe and reached into its inner pocked, fishing for his Head Auror badge. He met Kingsley's eyes, dropped it unceremoniously onto Kingsley's desk, turned heel and left the office.

"Wh-what are you – Harry! Torrie, I need to you call the Aurors office now! Harry, wait!"

So her name was not Tonya. Ah, well; it was not like Harry had any need to remember that any longer. Harry ignored Shacklebolt's pleading, walking briskly to the flight of stairs that would take him to the Atrium. Harry felt the blood pounding in his ears. Kingsley was the biggest fucking hypocrite Harry had ever seen. Harry reached the stairway that overlooked the Atrium and bounded down the steps two at a time.

"Harry, you're being unreasonable! Please listen to me! You're emotional right now and I understand! Let's just go back to my office and discuss this!"

"I'm done discussing, Shacklebolt!" Harry called over his shoulder.

"Mate! What's going on?"

Three Aurors were at the base of the stairs, including Ron. The other two were fairly young. "Move!" Harry growled. Ron blinked and stepped aside while the other two practically leapt away from him.

"Weasley, talk to him!"

"You've already talked enough!" Harry whirled around. He had leapt from the stairs and now stood at the edge of the Ministry Atrium. The hustle and bustle and cacophony of noise that usually filled the Atrium was now still and silent. "Why don't you do something smart and stop while you're behind!"

Ron rushed up to Harry and put his hands gently onto Harry's shoulders. "C'mon mate, talk to me. What happened? What's going on?"

Harry looked around Ron to glare at Kingsley. "I'm done. I quit."

"What are you talking about?" Ron cried, turning to look between Harry and Kingsley. "What happened?"

Kingsley made a futile attempt to compose himself. "Harry and I were just talking about his vacation – "

"It wasn't a vacation and you know it," Harry barked. Was that the story he had fed the press? "Sod off, Shacklebolt."

"It was! We – "

"Excuse me, Minister," Ron winced as he interrupted, his ears red. "But I really think I ought to handle this one. Come on, Harry. Let's go grab a pint and talk about this."

Kingsley looked like he wanted to say something. Instead, he wearily rubbed his bald head and turned to go back up to his office. The two young Aurors followed him.

Harry huffed a final time as he shook his head tiredly. That went about as poorly as it could, but Kingsley deserved it.

The nerve of that arsehole.

Ron pressed a hand to Harry's back and urged him along to the fireplaces that lined the opposite wall. "People are staring," Ron hissed. "Let's go on to my place."

Thunk.

Harry blinked out of his reverie, looking up as Ron slumped into the chair next to him with a beer in hand. They were sitting alone at the island in Ron and Hermione's kitchen - Hermione had knowingly excused herself to do some shopping – and Ron sighed while turning to face him.

"Alright…so you and Kingsley clearly had a row," Ron rubbed his face. "What happened?"

Harry stared at his beer for a moment before downing half of it. "So you know that Kingsley forced me on a week away from the Aurors."

It was not a question. Ron nodded with wide eyes. "Yeah. Bloody stressful week it was, too. Dawlish is really hard to deal with and no one was really happy. A bunch of the blokes kept asking me what was going on with you."

Harry grimaced and took another healthy swig of his beer. How in the hell was Harry supposed to tell Ron about everything?

"I…" Harry trailed off. "I was angry with Kingsley at first. The fact that he thought he could tell me what's best for me pissed me off. But then I realized I was so…tired."

"Tired?" Ron looked puzzled. "So…the week of rest was good for you?"

Harry shook his head as he downed the last of his drink. He waved a hand and summoned two more for them. "Not that kind of tired, Ron. The kind of tired where you're just tired of dealing with shite. I'm sick of the press, I'm sick of the endorsement deals, I'm sick of the politics and I'm sick of the attention. As much as I hated it…Kingsley was right. I need time away from this."

Harry raised his beer in a sarcastic toast, rolling his eyes at Ron before taking another hearty gulp. "So I told him that. Said I was going to take an extended leave. Kingsley didn't like that, of course – when he tells me to take a break it's fine, but if I ask for one on my own it's a sodding problem – he told me that I had three weeks of vacation stored up. But I told him it would be longer than that."

Harry could not help but let out a scornful chuckle. "That fucker! That sodding arsewipe. You won't believe what he said to me."

"What'd he say?" Ron had barely touched either of his beers and his cheeks and ears were flushed with color.

"'But Harry, we need you as Head Auror!'" Harry rumbled in a mocking imitation of Shacklebolt's voice. "'We've never made so much money as with you at the helm! That's why we made you Head Auror!'"

"Oh bloody hell, you've got to be exaggerating."

Harry waved his hand flippantly. "Those aren't the exact words, but that was his point. I got angry as hell and he backtracked like a coward. He wants me as Head Auror to just sit in an office and look pretty, Ron. He doesn't want me actually fighting and risking myself. You know, like a proper Auror would. He'd rather I hide behind my Aurors. Fuck him."

Harry drained the second bottle, his skin hot with anger and the stirrings of alcohol. "So I did the only thing I could respect myself of doing – I tossed my badge onto his desk and quit."

The color drained from Ron's face. He took his first large gulp of alcohol, then. "But Harry," Ron muttered softly. "We need you. The Aurors need you. You've always been our leader, Harry. Whatever reason Kingsley hired you, you've been brilliant! Work has never been better. You take time to work with the trainees. You take time to work with our low level Aurors. You make time for everyone. No one would want you to leave!"

Harry gave Ron a pitying look. "I have done nothing in my time that shouldn't already be a part of the Head Auror job. I'm not so special, Ron. I've always thought you'd be a much better than me in that type of position, actually."

"W-what?" Ron sputtered, shaking his head in denial. "No way, mate. It's always been you. You've always been our leader. You're so good at it –"

Harry shook his head, smiling slightly. "Me? I just jump into things. Is that what a leader does? You've always been the one to strategize and plan things for us! You think I'm the leader? Ron, I was always following you!"

"You're mad – "

"How many times have I asked for your opinion?" Harry persisted. "Dozens. Hundreds. Probably more. How many times have I turned to you to form a plan? Just as many times, I'm sure."

"What…but…this isn't about me, Harry!" Ron cried. Harry sniggered into his beer. "This is about you!"

"Nah," Harry smiled, happy for the first time in nearly an hour. Bloody Kingsley. "Not anymore. I'm done putting up with it. I quit."

Ron stared at the table for a moment, twirling his drink in his hand. "Why do you want to quit, though? Is it just Kingsley? Is it something else?"

"It was…more than Kingsley, but it took me a while to see that," Harry finally said, thinking hard about it. "But I realized this week that I was just not enjoying the job anymore. That's why I asked for time off. But then Kingsley was an arse and I decided that I really didn't need to put up with it anymore."

"B-but who will be - ?"

"Who will be Head Auror?" Harry cocked an eyebrow at him as Ron nodded urgently. "Hmm…I suppose Macilroy might get the job. He's been there for a long time and great with the legal stuff. He'd be a safe pick. If Kingsley wanted someone more like me, he'd promote Gabbins. Athletic and a great spellcaster. He'd be brilliant leading on the field."

"Gabbins would be good," Ron agreed, slumping glumly over his beer. "Good bloke, Gabbins. Fun to drink a beer with."

Harry smirked but let the silence drift for a second.

"You know who I really think would be the best choice, though?"

"Who?"

"…You, Ron."

"Me?!" Ron sputtered wildly, shaking his head as if a spider were crawling on top of it. "No, no way. You're barking."

"Yes, you," Harry grinned, butting his friend in the shoulder. It was fun to see him so riled up. "Come on, Ron. Is it really so hard to understand? You were always helping me plan as Head Auror. You're mates with all the other Aurors. They like you and trust you."

"Bloody hell…" Ron whispered to his beer. He shook his head a moment later and looked up to Harry. "So what are you going to do? And how'd you decide this, anyway?"

"Nothing, at the moment," Harry admitted, but winced a second later. That was not very truthful, was it? "Actually Ron, how about you and Hermione come over for dinner tomorrow? I have a few things in mind and it would be easier to…show you."

"Oh, no," Ron groaned. "I know that look. I've seen that look. You're up to something weird again, aren't you?"

Harry coughed suddenly before turning it into a laugh. "Excuse me? What do you mean 'weird?'"

"I mean every time we had something go wonky in school you had that look you've got right now," Ron pointed an accusing finger at him.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Harry sniffed, turning a haughty nose up at Ron before winking. That got a laugh from Ron. "It's not bad. Quite neat, actually. I think you two will enjoy what I have to show you."

"Is it dangerous?"

"Not really."

"…Will you cook?"

Harry chuckled at that. Ron liked his cooking more than Hermione's – but that was something they would never tell her. "For you? Of course."

"Alright then."

Harry thumped Ron on the back as he stood. "Cheers! Go ahead and get back to work, then. See you at 6 o'clock tomorrow."

"Harry?"

"Yeah?"

Harry turned back around with his beer in hand, standing right by Ron's Floo. Ron chewed on his lip for a moment. "It's been really great to work with you, mate. Seriously."

Harry beamed, feeling very fond of Ron in that moment. "You too, Ron. Thanks."

Harry stepped neatly from the hearth, despite his head spinning wildly from the Floo travel. The den was nice and quiet, though, and Harry took a moment to gather himself in the privacy of his own home.

All in all…not a bad morning. Ron was fine with Harry's decision and that was pretty much all that mattered. Of course, he would not have made that decision until Kingsley forced him to.

"Master Harry?"

"Oh hey, Kreacher," Harry turned around and smiled at his house elf. Kreacher was not any more pleasant to look than he was when Harry had been a teenager. He was still bulbous in places and his skin sagged in others, but Kreacher was a part of Harry's family now. And they got along better than they ever had.

"There are letters in the kitchen, Master Harry. From nasty, prying people."

Harry groaned, slumping for a moment. "Let me guess – media?"

"And a parcel from the bald Minister."

Harry cocked an eyebrow. That was one way to describe Kingsley. "Alright. Thanks, Kreacher. I'll take a look."

So reporters were already seeking him out to talk about the fight with Kingsley, eh? Harry shook his head; one of the things he had learned over the years is that you could not simply ignore the media. If you did not give them anything to cover, they would go to a different source. And that source would usually say something that made Harry's life even more difficult.

Harry pulled his outer robe off, kicked his feet out of his shoes, and ruffled his hair with both hands before padding into the kitchen. Sure enough, there was a small stack of letters on the kitchen table as well as a small package. Harry examined them all with distaste.

There were four letters, but one of them was from a reporter that Harry moderately liked. He could at least trust that reporter to be fair. Absently, Harry aimed his wand and vanished the other three letters and tucked the other into his pocket.

That left the parcel. Harry swished his wand once more and the parcel unraveled, revealing Harry's Head Auror badge as well as a short letter:

I know you're upset, but don't make a rash decision that you will regret later. We'll talk soon.

Kingsley

"Of course he did," Harry snorted, rolling his eyes. Harry glanced at the golden badge for a second before shrugging. Kingsley could make his sales pitch all he wanted; Harry was done.

It was quite a liberating feeling, actually. For so long, Harry had been the face and image of the Ministry's Department of Law Enforcement. It had long since gotten tiring. And now…now he did not have to worry about any of that. It was time to move on.

"In fact," Harry murmured under his breath, using his wand a third time to summon some school books from the living room. "All I have to worry about is some lesson plans."

Harry cracked open the nearest book and sat down properly at his table, leaned on his arm, and got to work with a smile on his face.

This story is so much fucking fun to write. See you soon.

Brigade