The ministry of magic was abuzz with the start of the new training year. Ministry workers struggled to get through the mass of students, some tutting, some remembering their first day. At around half past nine the fireplaces quietened. Apart from a few latecomers, the remaining people were students. Around a hundred of them filled the tiled hall of the atrium. Most didn't know anyone else in the crowd, what they should be doing or where they should be doing it. All any of them knew was that today was the start of a fascinating but very hard career. Some had been in the same year at Hogwarts, some came from other wizarding schools all over the globe and some were a little older having decided to take a gap year, or had been saving to pay the fees. All their apprehension came to an excited halt as a red-robed ministry worker made his way to the front of the group. He climbed some steps leading to a small door and aimed his wand at his throat.
"All trainees follow me into the conference theatre. Make sure you pick up an appropriate training pack on your way in which will explain this week's programme schedule."
The crowd surged forward, everyone trying to squeeze through the little door at once. The door led to a corridor filled with tables of literature. At the end was another door which opened out into a large amphitheatre. People pushed and shoved as they made their way through.
"It's just like Glastonbury," said a large blonde Welsh boy.
"Only less fun," replied a pink haired girl, before she was swept away in the crowd.
"There can't be this many Aurors surely," the Welsh boy said to no-one in particular. A confident voice behind him replied.
"There aren't. Aurors, Healers, hit-wizards, obliviators, Legilipsychs, everyone starts their training here."
He turned to see an attractive older woman a little shorter than himself. There were tiny streaks of lime green in her chocolate brown hair that intrigued him, as did the long satin glove on her left arm. It was far too muggy outside for it to be of any practical use. Perhaps it was some sort of weird fashion statement, Harley pondered.
"You sound...experienced," he said. "Have you done this before?"
"I have," she said flatly, gazing uninterested at the door ahead as it crept closer.
"I'm Harley by the way, Harley Jones," he stuck out his hand rather hopefully. The woman took it, not making eye-contact.
"Adrue Symonds, enchanté j'suis sûr." Harley wasn't entirely sure what she'd said, but it sounded sarcastic.
"So you're French then?"
"No." Adrue wasn't really in the mood for making friends. "Do I sound French to you?"
"Not really." God this woman is hard work, Harley thought as they ambled through the door. "So how come you've done this before?"
"Not that it's any of you're business, but I failed last time." She seemed to be relaxing to him. "I really wouldn't recommend it. But I bet if you tried really hard they'd kick you out so you can go back to your flock muscle-boy."
"Oh a sheep gag? Well that's original."
Adrue shushed him as they sat down together. As the crowd settled down in front of the speaking platform, Harley spotted the pink-haired girl in the row in front. He tapped her on the shoulder. She turned around grinning and waving. Adrue gestured towards the front where the red-robed man had taken his position behind the lectern.
"Settle down people, settle down." He waited for the rumbling chatter to subside.
"Good morning everyone. My name is Phillip Secundus and I am your ministry training co-ordinator for this year. My office is on the second floor, any problems you see me. Now, if you'll all turn to page two of your programme schedule. As you can see, today will mostly consist of a building tour, time tabling, tutor introductions, some team building..."
Harley zoned out. The pompous twit in front of him was much less fascinating than the two lovely women he'd just met. Well, he corrected himself, one lovely woman and one ice maiden. He glanced across at the programme on Adrue's lap. Like him, she'd picked up the Auror version. Brill, he thought. If there was one thing he liked more than a beautiful woman, it was a complicated one and he'd have plenty of time to work on her. He turned to face the front, surprised to spot a tiny subuteo player stuck in the mass of bubblegum hair. Only when the hair's owner stood up was Harley brought back to planet Earth. Everyone was filing out of the auditorium and forming groups behind the tutors.
"Are you going to sit there all day?" Adrue had collected her belongings and was waiting for him to do the same.
"What's going on?" He hurriedly threw his things back in his backpack and stood up.
"We're splitting into occupation groups, weren't you listening?" Adrue rolled her eyes at him and shoved him down the steps. She pointed him in the direction of their instructor. He was a dapper, Victorian looking man dressed head to toe in crushed velvet. Harley counted only thirteen people queuing up ahead of him, there mustn't have been many accepted this year.
Without a word, the man lead his group through the ministry to a small room on the second floor. It was decked out half like a Hogwarts classroom, half like an office. The instructor held the door open for everyone then closed the door behind him as they found seats behind the small desks. He strode to the front and addressed them in his calm received pronunciation.
"Good morning trainees, I am Basil Rookwood and I shall be your instructor as you learn the ways of the Auror. This job is not for the fainthearted. No-one will think any less of you if you decide at any point you do not wish to continue. Look after your fellow classmates, for the next three years they are your family. They will be your eyes and your ears, your back up, your life line. You will lay down your life for them, as they will for you. The Dark Arts gives no second chances, no escape routes. From now on you will eat, you will sleep, you will breathe the good fight." Basil raised his hands biblically to his students.
"Welcome to the rest of your life."