Yes, Minister!

Beta Reader: pussycatadamah

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor the characters from the books. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter 1: The suggestion

Kingsley Shacklebolt walked across the Hogwarts grounds in a purposeful stride. The man was looking imposing, both due to his height and because he was the interim Minister for Magic. He saw the ancient castle standing tall over the lake and the ForbiddenForest. The gates had been fixed up easily, the wards had been reset and strengthened, one of the first things to take place before the castle started being rebuilt. The north east tower was being finished that very week; it had collapsed when the Death Eaters launched their attack against Hogwarts. The various rooms, classrooms and corridors had been restored weeks ago. The Gryffindor common room would not be finished before the month was over. The grounds still looked scorched though grass had been returning to some spots. Hagrid's hut had not been rebuilt yet. The bridge was just starting to form. The statues and armours that used to be around the halls were missing, having been blasted to pieces while defending the castle and the students inside. The entry hall he last recalled being littered with rubble. The antechamber he could still see with rows upon rows of bodies covered with sheets, the stench of death hovering over them. The wizard blinked and the memory faded for the moment.

"Kingsley!"

"Minerva," the Minister and former Auror greeted the Headmistress of the school. She looked older, more grey lines populated her hair, harsher ones on her face betrayed the hard times she had lived the past few months.

"Your letter was rather vague," the cat Animagus told him. She looked worn out. "I would invite you inside the castle but…"

There was a loud noise and they both winced.

"How are the repairs going?" Kingsley asked instead.

"Faster than I thought possible," Minerva admitted. "We have a tent set out here. The Goblin Builders are going to let us inside in about three hours."

Kingsley smirked. The Goblins, though still sore that Gringotts had been broken into and a Dragon had been stolen (Kingsley still felt faint at the mere thought of riding one of the beasts) had accepted the job of rebuilding Hogwarts. All the Alumni banded together to pay for the cost; it was not like the Goblins were doing this for free. What Kingsley still did not know was how Harry had gotten them to agree to even meet with the green eyed wizard and not just take his head on sight for the offence towards the Goblin Nation.

"The House Elves were a big help as well," Minerva continued.

"Is Hogwarts opening on September first?" the chocolate skinned wizard asked. It made him sad seeing the castle ruined and like most British wizards took pride in having attended Hogwarts. He wanted to see the castle back in its full glory, Hogwarts deserved nothing less.

Minerva smiled. "You had better believe it," she declared, proud of the fact. "Hogwarts will be ready to have her students back. We were never late opening before, now that we have peace? You better believe those little hellions will be back here."

"And happy about it too," Kingsley assured the witch who had been his own professor at one time.

Minerva's lips formed a smile. She led him to the temporary offices they had set up out on the grounds and Kingsley noticed Flitwick there, looking through mail, while Vector and Sinistra were studying what he recognized to be plans of the school's wards.

"We are adding more of them," Minerva commented when she saw Kingsley looking.

"I thought you already had placed wards up. You are adding more? Not that it's a bad thing or anything..."

"We did, another thing Mister Potter paid for," Minerva frowned at the thought. "That boy is impossible to understand, giving so much, getting nothing back in return." She shook her head.

"Well, I don't know about that last part," Kingsley said.

"What?"

"That's about to change," the former Auror admitted. "It's part of the reason why I'm here today. Harry is who I'm looking for. I tried Number Twelve but there was no one there, not even Kreacher."

"That old elf is here, helping the rest of them," Minerva informed him.

"And Harry?"

The witch pointedly looked at him. "Where do you think?"

"He's in the castle?" Kingsley asked incredulously.

"He does like living on the edge," Minerva reminded the wizard. "Come sit with us, have a cup of tea. He's supposed to be back soon."

"I can just go inside..."

"Not a chance," Filius Flitwick said from his own spot. "The Goblins were adamant, only seven humans inside. An eighth would disturb the magic."

"Who else is in there?" Kingsley asked.

"Potter, Malfoy, Zabini, Longbottom, the two Patil sisters and one of the Unspeakable's, I don't know which one," Minerva admitted. "They needed people with strong magical cores and a connection to the castle. Considering that the Department of Mysteries helped with the wards…"

"How about that tea then?" Kingsley told her.

A Goblin named Kuplak came an hour later, with seven tired wizards and witches following and a couple of house elves bringing up the rear. A few words were enough to have the four professors and the interim Minister cheering at the news, the first three floors were ready and the Headmaster's office was restored to what it used to be before the Gargoyle was blasted away.

"The kitchens are ready too," Harry added after Kuplak bowed out of the way, leaving the wizards to their devices.

"We are getting to work," one of the elves announced to the Headmistress. "Scrubbing it all clean." Both elves nodded emphatically and a tad too eager at the prospect of cleaning all that mess but to each his own.

Septima Vector was handing out pepper up potions to the worn out young adults. Kingsley caught Harry's eye from where the green eyed teen was talking to Draco Malfoy, one of the few Marked Death Eaters the Boy-Who-Lived had managed to keep out of Azkaban no questions asked. Harry nodded at Kingsley and promptly excused himself. Both wizards walked out of the tent and onto the grounds. When they were far enough from the tent they started talking.

"Hey," Harry greeted him. "How come you're up here? Who's left behind in London?"

Kingsley clapped the younger wizard on the back. "Good to see you. You've grown taller I see."

"About time," the raven haired wizard commented with a proud smile. "Seriously though, why are you here?"

"I came to ask you something," Kingsley admitted. "You know I'm only the interim Minister, right?"

It was meant to be a rhetorical question but Harry nodded anyway. "Best of luck and hope you make it and all that," he agreed with a smile.

"But I'm not what people need right now," Kingsley added.

Harry frowned. "Why not? You are honest, fought a war to help the people, survived."

"I'm an Auror Harry, not a politician."

"Okay, I know that. Why are you telling me?"

"I was thinking the other day how the war left us at an all time low. Morale has hit rock bottom. Our numbers are worse than ever. The war might be over Harry, but we are still mourning, still hurting."

Harry sighed and looked away. "Mrs. Weasley is in St. Mungo's. They say she's depressed, won't eat."

"She lost a son," Kingsley agreed.

"I know, I'm just used to her being the strong one," Harry admitted. "So, you won't be running for Minister then. There are going to be elections, right? That's why you're here?"

"Yes and yes."

"But why tell me?" Harry asked.

Kingsley pointedly looked at him.

"Unless you..." The wizard's green eyes went wide. "No! Kingsley! No!"

"It's the best choice Harry."

"Do you have any idea what you're saying?"

"Yes, I'm asking you to do what Albus could never do."

"I'm barely an adult!"

"People look up to you, listen to you."

"Only to turn on me just as quickly," Harry muttered darkly.

Kingsley winced. "Listen, I know that if anyone deserves some peace and quiet that's you. But, hear me out, alright? Last time, after the war, people like Fudge came to power. Stupid, money driven people that instead of healing the country just patched everything up and did much more damage than Voldemort and his Death Eaters had done."

Harry looked away.

"Dumbledore was a weak man when it came to having power," Kingsley told Harry.

"I just want to finish school you know," the younger wizard said.

"I hate to put pressure on you, but I need an answer right now. We need to enter you in the Caucus."(1).

Harry narrowed his eyes. "Why now?"

"The Wizengamot is being persistent," Kingsley told Harry.

"And who's 'we'?"

At this the older wizard smiled. "Me, Madam Longbottom, most of the Wizengamot members, the Malfoy's…"

"Draco never said anything!" Harry protested.

"He would not have," Kingsley commented. "Even the darker families don't want another Fudge. The way you stood up for Draco, the way you stood up for all the young Slytherin's…"

"Stereotypes are stupid," Harry commented.

"Exactly. Everyone else has them, but apparently not you. We all thought that you can actually make sure that one third of the wizarding world is never separated from the rest and your voice has power. You can actually change things Harry."

"But isn't there like a law that only after a certain age I can be Minister or something like it?"

"Already taken care of."

Harry glared. "Stop looking so smug," he accused.

"Is that a 'yes'?"

"Yes," the green eyed wizard muttered.

Kingsley smiled. "Thank you."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I know I'm going to regret it," he sighed.