An Indefinite Amount of Forever (A Harry Potter Fanfiction--Dramione)

Men are Dumb

"I prefer 'Minister,' if you please."

Harry's eyelids fluttered like he was dearly struggling not to roll his eyes. "Minister, then. If it's at all possible, I'd like to return to my old post as an Auror. I'm not asking for special treatment and I wouldn't even consider it to be a demotion, but I—"

"Harry, Harry, Harry. No need to explain. As I said, we're family. It's not really special treatment, per se. Consider it to be a mutually beneficial arrangement for both yourself and the Ministry. Having the 'Boy Who Lived' on the payroll—"

"Please don't call me that."

"—really endears the government to the public. And after all, a happy society is a functioning one, am I right?"

"Sure."

"Smashing. By the way, I feel terrible that my assistant didn't offer you anything to drink."

"That's okay. I actually have to be—"

"Jerry!" Percy said, pushing a button on an intercom.

A wiry, pale young man appeared in the doorway. "Yes, Minister?" he said with cloying cheerfulness.

Percy looked bored having to talk to him. "Why didn't you offer the Boy Who Lived a cup of tea?"

Harry rubbed his temple. "Again. Not necessary. And I hate when people call me tha—"

"I'm so sorry, sir," Jerry said. Oddly, Harry believed him. "It was an oversight, of course. What can I get you, Mr. Pot—um...Mr. Boy Who Lived?"

Harry released a heavy sigh. "Tea. Dash of milk. Two sugars." The boy was obviously terrified of Percy, so Harry might as well placate the lad. It probably would have broken his heart if he said he didn't want anything.

Percy grinned. "Splendid. This will give us a chance to catch up."

"Yeah. Look, I really can't stay long—"

"I apologize for my assistant. My old one quit on me. Something about 'wanting to salvage his marriage' because apparently, I'm 'too demanding,'" Percy said, using finger quotes. "Can you believe that?"

"Absolutely," Harry said dryly.

Percy ignored him. "So, now, of course, I've got this lad fresh out of Hogwarts. He came highly recommended. Head Boy, prefect, perfect marks, political aspirations." Harry stifled a scoff at the familiarity of Jerry's resume. "And, of course, he's completely inadequate. Honestly, I almost thing he should be paying me to train him."

Harry's eye twitched. "I feel for you."

Percy grinned a politician's smile that did not reach his eyes. "I appreciate that, Harry. It's so good to catch up with you. Mother tells me you've been painting."

Harry scratched his jaw and shrugged. But as much as he disliked talking to Percy, hardly anyone else was asking him to talk about his art. "Mostly abstracts. Although I do dabble a bit in minimalism with my figures. I'm mostly interested in pre-modern—"

"Yes, yes, that sounds fascinating. You must allow the Ministry to showcase some of your work. Perhaps even...an auction? Can you imagine, Harry? An original piece by the Boy Who Lived. It would sell instantly."

Harry's jaw fell slightly open. He gave up. "Rrright. Look, Perce, I really do have to—"

"Could you..." Percy released a soft laugh, "not call me that? You know I don't like it."

Harry's eye twitched again. "Sure." In that moment, Jerry arrived with his tea. "Thank you." Harry nodded at the young man. "You should get out while you still can."