How can you mend a broken heart?

Chapter 7 - surprises

One reoccurring thought kept him awake, "My glasses are more than a decade old, I really ought to get new ones."

He pinched the bridge of his nose and looked away from the parchment. His eyes grew more tired by the minute and his eyelids soon felt like they weighed a hundred pounds and his will to keep awake was crushing under the weight of them.

On the left side of the table, the piece of paper with Charlene's number was placed. It was crunched into a ball as Harry at one point had needed a stress ball, but the note had proven to be ineffective. Therefore, it was just there, randomly placed.

Underneath the parchment with mission details, was another parchment filled with complaints about his need to put his life in danger from Kingsley Shacklebolt. He had stated multiple times in the letter that he was equally close to firing him and promoting him, which amused Harry. He had even chuckled to himself every time that Kingsley had mentioned his mixed feelings about the mission.

Harry's eyes drifted towards the crumpled up paper and soon, he straightened it out and looked at the number written down with the use of a pencil. He hadn't used pencils in a while, he thought and liked the soft expression it radiated.

Then, while looking at the number, his eyes shut and his head fell on top of the parchments and he found himself in a deep, dreamless sleep.

Hours later, he woke up to the sunshine touching his pale face. Slowly, he opened his eyes and squinted at the bright light that shone in his direction. He straightened up and looked at his watch, it was half-past ten. He grunted as he was reminded of the pile of work that awaited him at the ministry.

With very little enthusiasm, he got up from the chair and went to the kitchen to prepare himself a nice piece of toast.

Ten minutes later, Harry was ready and collected the parchments and the note. He held it in his hands as he thought about his destination and soon, he was in the atrium of the ministry. Seeing many familiar faces while walking towards the lifts, he put on a smile and greeted those who greeted him.

When he arrived at the lifts, he entered one with many unfamiliar faces that he assumed were from an entirely different department that he knew little about.

Nevertheless, they all knew Harry or rather, they knew his scar and by the thought of it, he was disgusted. Harry had always hated the thought of being famous for surviving the killing spell that had killed his parents. Of course, now he had actually defeated the dark lord, but he couldn't seem to forget that his initial fame came from his dead parents' sacrifices.

He said nothing about it to those in the lift, but instead, he greeted them with a smile and a 'hi'. The doors to the lift opened and Harry walked out alone towards the Auror department.

Perhaps he had expected his workday to be somewhat normal or that people would act professionally after his mission, however, nothing of the sort happened.

When he entered the Auror department, he saw his boss and colleagues all waiting for him.

Harry rolled his eyes mentally and put on yet another smile as he started talking with his colleagues that acted more like fans than professional work partners. He hated every minute of it. Couldn't he be allowed to save the wizarding world on numerous occasions without all the unnecessary attention? He knew the answer very well and it was of course no.

Finally, after far too long, everyone except for Watset had returned to their cases. He wondered why his boss would be the only one left. Was he such a fangirl?

"Potter, I have important matters to discuss with you that I wish to keep confidential for now. Would you please follow me to my office?" Watset said plainly. There was no suggestion of happiness, anger or any emotion in his voice and naturally; Harry feared the worst to happen.

Without knowing what would await him, Harry followed Watset to his office with a quickly beating heart and sweaty palms.

Watset closed the door behind him and showed Harry to a chair on the other side of his desk.

The chair was made of leather and the butt print in the middle of it suggested that Harry was not the very first person to sit in the brown chair in Watset's grey office. He sat down and faced Watset who had sat down on his own chair.

Harry couldn't help but notice that Watset had never looked older than he did right there and then. His eyes looked droopy and big dark bags had found their place underneath his eyes. His skin too looked looser than before, creating small wrinkles around his mouth, on his forehead and around his throat.

Watset searched through a pile parchments on his desk with his large hands that were just as wrinkled as the rest of his face. On his ring finger was an old golden ring with small scratches on it that was reflected in the light from the lamp that was placed beside him.

"I imagine you wonder why I have asked you in here," Watset stated, still searching through the pile on his desk.

"Naturally," Harry said while his heart slowed down its rapid beating.

Finally, Watset found what he had been looking for and he separated a single parchment from the rest. "The head of the Auror department is a hard job, Potter. I daresay the job brings significantly more stress, responsibility, problems and all that than many other jobs. But the pay is damn good I tell you. Damn good!"

Harry furrowed his eyebrows and wondered why in the name of Merlin Watset was telling him all of this information about his own job. However, before Harry could ask him about it, Watset continued speaking.

"The world admires you, Harry and I must say that you are skilful at what you're doing."

Harry grew more confused by each word. "Sir?"

Watset chuckled, "Your job, Harry. You are my best Auror and as my best Auror I would like for you to guess what I am trying to tell you."

Harry squinted a little, trying to focus on Watset's expressions, but what he saw was too blurry. Then, an idea popped into his head, What if Watset was offering him the job of the head of the office? It all seemed to fit.

"You're offering me the head of the office job," Harry said while meeting his boss's gaze.

Watset nodded and continued, "Barbara has bugged me for years to retire in order for us to spend the rest of our lives travelling the world. She thinks I'm too old for this job, but I'm only seventy years old." He chuckled at that part and went on," I have at least seventy more years to live, I tell her. However, I'm getting tired of all this Auror stress and have decided to pass the job on to you, Mr Potter."

He looked at the parchment he was holding and read some of the information. Harry believed the parchment to be his CV, but it was only a theory.

"Do you accept?" Watset asked after putting the parchment away.

Harry felt overwhelmed but smiled happily at Watset. "Of course I accept."

"Brilliant." Watset stood up and stretched out his hand for Harry to shake. They shook hands and Harry thanked him for the job, to which Watset laughed. This only confused Harry.

Watset informed him that he would do the necessary paperwork for the job transition and that Harry would officially get the job in exactly two weeks.

Just when Harry was about to leave, Watset called after him. "Potter, word of advice,"

Harry turned around to face him again.

"Get yourself a new pair of glasses."

"Why?" Harry asked.

Watset raised an eyebrow and said, "Do you not remember the Auror mission when you misread everything and sent people to an entirely wrong destination?"

Harry grew hot. He had hoped that everyone had forgotten his last mistake. For reasons he wasn't sure of, he laughed awkwardly as he exited the room and when he had closed the door behind him, he immediately stopped and felt a sudden urge to dig his own grave.

Fortunately, he did nothing of the sort. Instead, he went to his work desk and picked up the muggle phone he had placed there to confuse the wizards. However, he had now found a brilliant use for it, namely calling Charlene to arrange a date.