The foul parchment stared up at him as he tried to go about his daily business. Every time he glanced at it he was assaulted by swirling colors and smiling faces. He wanted to move it, but every time his hand grazed the paper it started to belt Christmas Carols. If he touched it, he feared it would never shut-up.
The whole situation was entirely unfair. He was the Minister for Magic. He had served the wizarding world well since the fall of Voldemort. Kingsley just didn’t understand it. Of all the decisions he had final say over; the Social Counsel could overrule him on a ball. And not only could they decide the Ministry was having a Christmas Ball, they could also demand that he attend. After all, they said, it wouldn’t be a Ministry event without the Minister for Magic.
He growled at the parchment, his deep voice echoing through his empty office. A ball! It was ridiculous really. The very last thing he wanted to do on Christmas Eve. The Ministry of Magic should have better things to do with their time then parade around in formal wear, drinking too much. Is that where taxpayer money was going?
Shaking his head, he picked up his quill and returned to work. The parchment continued to taunt him, so he tossed his coat over it. It started to sing.
He slammed his hands down on the desk. A loud cracking noise came from the desk, but it didn’t break. At least, the furniture didn’t seem to be against him”yet.
When he threw his jacket to the floor the invitation went with it. Landing a few feet away from the garbage can, it stopped singing. He left it there. As long as it was quiet and out of sight, he could pretend it didn’t exist.
Again, he retrieved his quill and prepared to return to work. This time he was interrupted by a knock at the door. He wanted to ignore it, but as Minister for Magic he had learned it was best not to ignore things. They could often turn into something unmanageable.
“Come in,” he growled, in his most unfriendly voice.
Harry and Ron burst into the room. They were all smiles. Ron was even humming some idiotic carol about a Hippogriff. Just what he needed, more Christmas cheer. Couldn’t any of his employees take a hint and leave him alone.
“Don’t you two have dark wizards to catch?” he asked, returning his gaze to his work. Maybe they’d go away if he showed no interest.
“We’re taking the day off,” Harry replied, still smiling as he plopped down in one of the chairs across from Kingsley. Ron joined him, but thankfully he’d stopped humming.
“I don’t remember signing any vacation papers,” he muttered.
“Oh, we’re not on vacation,” Harry replied, looking smug. “We’re working. Today we thought we’d keep an eye on you. With the vibes you’ve been giving off the last few days, we were concerned you were about to go bad and blow up half of Britain.”
Kingsley didn’t smile. He was in no mood for jokes.
“Seriously, mate,” Ron chimed in, “what’s wrong? You’ve never dressed up like Father Christmas before, but I’ve never seen you hate the holidays.”
“I’ve never had a ball forced upon me before either,” he replied. “It’s one thing to spend Christmas eating your mother’s cooking. It’s quite another to be forced to attend a mating ritual.”
“Mating ritual?” Harry asked, raising his eyebrows. “This is about a girl, then?”
“Honestly, this is about the two of you going back to work,” he muttered. “I have work to do. I really don’t have time to discuss something as foolish and frivolous as a ball with you.”
“Well, you ought to discuss it with somebody,” Ron told him. “You’ve been biting everyone’s head off since it was mentioned. You can’t do your job if you’re too busy sulking about a party.”
“I can do my job just fine,” Kingsley growled, growing impatient with the conversation.
“Of course, you can,” Harry said quickly, shooting Ron a warning glance. “Still, you’re upset and we want to help. We’ve been through a lot together. You can talk to us, you know.”
“I don’t want to go to the ball,” he told them. “Satisfied?”
“Why not?” Harry pressured. “It’s just a party. We’re going to dress up and dance. What’s so wrong with that?”
Sighing, Kingsley realized that he was beaten. If he ever wanted to get back to work or even have his office to himself, he’d have to tell them. Otherwise, they’d sit across from him forever, asking annoying questions and smiling like idiots.
“Fine, you were right,” he muttered. “It’s about a girl. Isn’t it always? What else can make sensible men act like spoiled children? I don’t have a date for this preposterous ball, and I don’t wish to go alone. I am the Minister for Magic; people will take note of the fact that I’m alone. The problem is I haven’t had a date since I was a young Auror. I fell in love then, and I haven’t wanted to date since. So this ball will be a large holiday reminder of what I lost all those years ago.”
“You could…” Harry began.
“No,” Kingsley cut him off. “No more. I answered your questions. Now, I feel like a whining schoolboy. I refuse to discuss this any further. Please, go back to your jobs so that I can do mine.”
Harry and Ron exchanged glances, debating if they should give in. Kingsley gave them the best glare he could muster. He was used to people being intimidated by his size and strong voice, but Harry and Ron were too used to him for that to work. They knew he was about as dangerous as a Pygmy Puff.
However, after a brief nod from Harry they began to move towards the door. Maybe they decided to respect his privacy after all. Although, it would be a first. Harry and Ron weren’t noted for backing down.
As if to prove Kingsley right, Harry stopped at the door. “You could always look her up,” he said. “A lot of time has passed since you were first an Auror. Maybe she misses you, too.”
Before Kingsley could reply, his friends allowed the door to close behind them. He was left alone in his office with the memories of the greatest love he’d ever known.