Bathwater

Potter For Minister

Like she was a goddess on her untouchable pedestal, Ginny Weasley looked down at her fellow Gryffindors from the center of their common room. 

"Shacklebolt has done us wrong," her voice rung out, spurring both silence and loud roars of agreement. "We cannot stand by this! We must not allow this! The Ministry has no right to our lives! We fought a war for freedom, and damn it, we will have our freedom!"

Colorful sparks flew out of a few wands as all her supporters cheered.

"Hear! Hear!" Seamus stood up on Dean's armchair, making himself seen to his fellow house-mates, too. "I've had my eye on a Ravenclaw witch for the past year—the real future Mrs. Finnegan! I'm not gonna let the Ministry take that away from me, and neither should you!"

Dean punched the back of his best friend's calf, making him stumble off the armrest of his seat. "She doesn't even know your name, mate. You run the opposite way every time she comes your way."

"I do not!" There was a chorus of snorts throughout the gather of Gryffindors. Most of them had seen Seamus turn pink from head to toes, scurrying off every time anyone with a skirt so much as approached him. "Shut it! I have the perfect romancing plan this year. Ten Steps to Getting the Witch of Your Dreams. Bought it from Fred and George Sixth Year—"

Silence suddenly invaded the common room. Slowly, all eyes once more turned to Ginny. The red on her cheeks from her impassioned rally was now paling, something in her gaze fighting off grief to maintain her strength in front of her audience.

"That's enough from all of you," Hermione spoke up, pushing her way past her fellow Gryffindors. "None of us like the idea of what the Ministry is doing, but it is law. And seeing as we yet have every detail about how all of this will work, let us remember that we are bound to uphold these laws or face the consequences of breaking them. There's nothing we can do right now."

"Potter for Minister!" Seamus jumped up on another chair, throwing a fist high in the air. "Potter! Potter! Potter!"

There was an immediate chorus coming from everyone around Hermione. She glared at them just as Harry groaned, looking away from the corrections Hermione had done on his Charms homework. "I'm not running for Minister, Seamus," he said, earning a loud booing from some house-mates. 

"But, Potter, think about—"

"No," Harry told his friend, now disregarding his essay to stand. The crowd parted to let him approach Ginny.  He extended a hand up to her, the action making her raise a sharp, red brow at him. "Come on, Gin. Hermione's right. Rallying isn't going to help us right now."

"It isn't a rally, mate," Dean said from his seat. "She's starting a revolution."

Harry ignored him, his hand still out. "We'll be fine. I promise."

"Don't promise that," Ginny told him. "You can't. Not when there's a chance you'll go off to someone like Romilda Vane and I go back to Dean."

At her very apparent disdain, Dean glared at his ex-girlfriend. "Oi," he hissed, "I've told you, I never pushed you. It's not my fault you're actually very clumsy."

Harry and Hermione shared a look that made one grin and the other roll her eyes. With a clearing of his throat, he did not wait for Ginny to take his hands. He reached for hers, lacing their fingers together, squeezing tight. 

"Listen," he began, "I'm not scared about this marriage law, okay? Because I know that I love you more than anything. And we did not survive this war for us to not be together. Because we will be. I know it. Can't you believe that, too?"