kun_kunsi

Deputy Headmistress Minerva McGonagall sat at her desk at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She was a thin woman, in her mid sixties, and dressed in a green tartan plaid dress. Her dark hair was pulled neatly back into a bun, and her rectangular shaped spectacles sat squarely on her face adding to her serious expression. Parchment and scrolls lay neatly stacked upon her desk, along with two bottles of ink and two quills. In addition to her deputy headmistress duties, she taught transfiguration and served as the Head of Gryffindor House. She was an unerringly tidy and strict woman, who enjoyed teaching and found she had a knack for paperwork even if she did not always care to do it. Over her many years of teaching she had grown fond of several students, and always enjoyed seeing her former Gryffindor students at the school or while out in the wizarding world. Her warm, hazel eyes reviewed the notes before her and added some additional notes at the end. She kept a meticulous schedule, writing in appointments and additional notes to make her often hectic schedule easier. As such, she had begun to notice a troubling trend regarding one particular appointment. She now knew the problem had not just existed for the last several months, but had apparently gone on for years, unnoticed by her, and the thought bothered her greatly.

With a sigh, she carefully dried the ink on her new notes, and then placed the notes to the side of her desk. This September, Harry Potter would beSchool of Witchcraft and Wizardry. As overseeing

the letters sent to each student regarding the

coming year was one of her responsibilities, she

knew that Harry Potter's Hogwarts letter would be

going out soon, and she wondered about how well

the young man was doing at his relatives home.

Albus had dismissed her concerns that day nearly

ten years ago, insisting that they leave young Harry

Potter at his muggle relatives' home. Minerva

had not been impressed with them, and had

questioned Albus over the years as to how Harry

was doing. He always insisted the boy was doing well. Minerva wanted to confirm this for herself. She looked back down at the papers on her desk. Apparently, she had meant to check on young Harry multiple times as reflected by her old calendars and notes, and each time something had prevented her from following through with it. The notes she had reviewed yet again documented her musings about that, and she had finally acknowledged that perhaps Albus had done something to cause that particular reaction. What she did not understand, was why? Why would someone not want her to check in on the child? This time, she intended to follow through on her desire to check on Harry Potter. A knock sounded at her door interrupting her thoughts, and she smiled at her own cunning plan to circumvent whatever it was that prevented her from traveling to Surrey.

"Come in, Septima," she called pleased as the young Arithmancy professor entered the room. Minerva had spoken to her several weeks ago to set this appointment, and was pleased that phase one of her plan was now proceeding.

a different harry potter

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You know it," she smiled confidently.

"Well if it ain't the Sheriff of Diagon Alley, doin' a patrol and checkin' on his folk?"

Harry looked at the speaker with deep amusement. "Is that your attempt at an American Western accent?"

"I thought it was a pretty good attempt," George Weasley sniffed.

"I mean, it was pretty good," Harry said. "Which isn't to say that it was good, like at all. Hence the pretty good-"

"Come off it," George snorted, pushing Harry lightly and grinning.

Harry had saved Weasley Wizarding Wheezes for last on his patrol. Generally it was civilian officers doing patrols but they were understaffed as well, much like every department it seemed. So from time to time, Aurors would help with the patrols. It was generally seen as a punishment for some Aurors, or light duty for those recovering from injury.

Harry treated it seriously enough. He liked how laidback it was, how it was not as taxing both physically or mentally. He liked to visit with people during it, chatting a bit here and there. It was nice to see how things have changed in the last few years with how Wizarding Britain had recovered and was tentatively growing and thriving.

Despite the eye-watering coloring of bright orange and deep magenta, Harry loved the Wheeze. It held that sense of wonder that he felt as a child when it came to magic: where anything was possible and delightful and typically accompanied by bright lights and loud sounds. Of course, as he aged, he had seen the darker side of magic but here he could let himself feel the original senses of wonder and figurative magic and the literal magic.

There were still signs of the years of course. The store had a comfortable lived in feeling with bits of wear and tear that were evident. That and signs that were even more obvious.

George absent-mindedly scratched the side of his head, moving a bandanna he wore that was at a rakish angle that also covered up where his ear was. "Actually, I have a bone to pick with you, Captain."

"Oh what now," Harry replied, giving George a look.

"Why are you cutting into your own investment? Banning our things at the Auror offices?"

"That wasn't me," Harry protested. "Did Ron tell you that?"

"He might have insinuated that there are superior officers that have unilaterally banned fun there," George sniffed.

"It wasn't me! I just banned it from my office because I don't want to be hit with them! And Director Robards didn't ban them either, he thinks they're funny as long as they don't interfere with duties."

"Well then why did Ron tell me that?" George asked, nettled.

"Has it really prevented others from buying them?"

"No, but I was curious. Unless it was that reverse psycho-thing that Hermione said where people do things because they're told not to."

Harry snorted. "You might not be wrong about that. Still, as far as I know, things haven't changed much regarding that."

"Oh you know what, speaking of our brother, I think it has to do with Miss Bones," George said, eyes brightening with realization. "I did sell her many a product recently."

"You know what, I think you're right," Harry grinned. "They have been bickering a lot recently, more than usual."

"I do like that girl," George smiled. "One of the few complete fuck-ups that's solely his fault I'll say. To his face. And I do. Often."

"I don't know, I still think they'll get back together,"....

chapter10:-current state (part1)