Moments

16. Public Relations Opportunities

Another request from @lottie_maurauder_Xx who wanted Draco on the back of a motorbike.

(1000 wds)

'Blimey, mate, I still can't believe you Disapparated out of Hogwarts...' Ron said for the eleventh-billion time. 'Because...'

Everyone chorused '...Mione's told us, since first year, it's impossible.'

'You don't understand the magnitude,' Ron exclaimed. 'Mione was wrong!'

They lounged under the 'year-eight' tree, it'd become their patch while they awaited their results. Harry was lying with his head in Malfoy's lap, who was fiddling with his hair. He wasn't entirely sure how this arrangement had happened but he refused to move.

'Is that an Owl?' Mione suddenly squeaked.

They all sat to attention.

'Oh, it is!' Padma looked sick.

'It's more than one,' Blaise sounded nervous.

The owls swooped towards them, dropping a flurry of envelopes.

Harry didn't want to open his; it signified that Hogwarts was actually over but he broke the seal and sighed in relief.

More owls arrived; this time to say Harry, Ron, Neville, and Peanut had been accepted into the Auror Corps.

'Malfoy?' Harry said softly.

'Forget it, Potter.'

'Spill!'

'I was stupid to hope.'

'Show me.'

Malfoy's letter read: I'm sorry to inform you that we cannot offer you a position in the training corps going forward. Harry pocketed it.

'Come on,' he said.

They walked up to the courtyard where a hulking black motorbike was stood. Harry summoned two helmets from his room. He swung his leg over the bike. 'Jump on!' he kicked it into life.

'When did you get your licence?'

'Last summer.'

He turned the throttle, loving the roar of the bike.

Malfoy clambered on behind Harry. 'What do I hold on to?'

'Me!' He sent a Patronus to McGonagall asking her to message the Minister of Magic.

They thundered out of the school.

Malfoy buried his head against Harry's back, holding on tightly. Harry hit a button which threw a Disillusionment Charm over them, kicked a lever, and twisted the throttle: they soared into the air. The bike's engine relaxed into song and he nudged Malfoy. 'Stop hiding.'

'No!' Malfoy whimpered.

'Chicken!'

Malfoy couldn't resist the challenge. He lifted his head and stuck his chin forward in typical defiance. Harry felt him gradually relax. But when he landed the bike in the suburbs so they could ride into central London more inconspicuously, Malfoy's grip tightened and Harry smiled every time Malfoy gave an endearing squeak of alarm, or a squeal, or a whimper.

Harry parked the bike near the Ministry and they used the official visitors' entrance.

'I believe the Minister is expecting me,' Harry said brusquely to the receptionist.

'Yes, Mr Potter,' he answered excitedly, 'and Mr Malfoy...' he said in awe. 'So brave...' he breathed. 'I wonder,' he simpered. 'Would you both mind signing a copy of that article that was in The Prophet...'

Harry smiled, 'absolutely. Though I wonder,' he looked at the name badge. 'Brandon, if I might borrow it first.'

'It would be my honour, sir,' gushed Brandon.

'Thank you.' Harry stalked away, dragging a bemused Malfoy with him.

Minister Shacklebolt and Head-Auror Robards were waiting for them.

'Harry,' Kingsley's deep voice welcomed him. 'And Mr Malfoy.'

Harry scowled, 'Kingsley. Gawain.'

Malfoy simply nodded, keeping his mouth firmly shut.

'How can we help you today?' Kingsley asked.

'I'd like an explanation for this?' Harry withdrew the letter from his pocket.

Kingsley's brow furrowed as he read, 'I'm not sure what the problem is.' He handed it back to Harry.

'Apologies,' Harry extracted another letter. 'I meant this one.'

Kingsley's face was unreadable.

'Surely we don't need to explain...' said Robards.

'I think you do,' said Harry. 'You've offered me a place with my four 'O's, a Dux in Defence, and that pesky 'E' in potions. Your letter is most long and sycophantic and sickeningly gushing. Let's be open about it, I know when I'm being set up as a PR pawn; the Ministry so likes playing that card.' Harry glared at both the Minister and Robards, he was trying to contain his temper. 'Yet Malfoy, with his straight 'O's and two Duxes in Potions and Transfiguration; receives a short rude rejection letter without explanation. I want to know why?'

'Surely, Potter,' Robards said. 'We don't need to explain why Mr Malfoy is unsuitable for the DLME?'

Harry raised his eyebrow, 'I want to hear it in words.'

'Harry,' Kingsley warned.

Harry waited.

'For goodness sake!' Robards exploded. 'He was a Death Eater!'

'He was cleared.'

'Ex-Death Eater then.'

'Not even "ex".'

'He took the Mark!'

'So did Severus.'

'That's different,'

'You know he saved my life, right?'

'It's a matter of trust.'

'And how do you know if you don't try?'

'People'll refuse to partner him?' Robards asked.

'I request, now, that we're partners.'

'Harry,' Kingsley's brows were furrowed again. 'There're political implications.'

'Why've you accepted Fay Dunbar into the Corps?'

'Harry, we can't discuss Fay's case.'

'Sure, but she got the same as grades as me, she knows she presents a risk, Peanut knows her leg could be a liability in the field but you're obviously willing to try, to find her potential.' Harry flung The Prophet onto the desk, his finger pinning it down. 'Malfoy has already given a glimpse of his potential when he lied to save my life. His actions changed the course of the war, without him, neither of you would be sitting here today. You want a PR opportunity about the Ministry moving forward after the war and being more inclusive, you've got it right there.'

'Would you both mind waiting outside? We need to discuss this,' Kingsley asked.

'I've been told,' Harry added. 'If you want to fuck things up royally, then going up against "The Saviour" isn't favoured publicly. And the Press so love a good angsty story; they can run for months when prodded.'

Kingsley and Robards blanched.

Harry picked up the newspaper, 'we'll wait at Hogwarts for Malfoy's new letter.'

Robards looked at Harry intently. 'Am I going to have trouble with you, Potter?'

'Undoubtedly,' he stated. 'But that's the risk you're taking.'

*****