Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or anything that is part of J.K. Rowling's imagination. Those of you who are die-hard Potter fans will know what I've created, and I hope you'll continue to enjoy!


CHAPTER 8: Auror Training

That evening, Harry lay awake in his bed. He'd just finished talking to Ginny for nearly an hour and a half. The conversation had been difficult for both, as they were no longer used to being apart much.

Ginny had told him how Professor Thestra was the new Transfigurations teacher, and Bill Weasley was at Hogwarts this year as Care of Magical Creatures teacher while Professor Hagrid was in France with Madame Maxime. She also told him how Neville was now Mister Longbottom, and had made assistant to Professor Sprout.

"It's quite strange really, he's got a confidence in his step that he never had at school, and I think a few of the girls are beginning to think they're in love!" She had told him making Harry laugh until he was gasping for air.

Harry had then told her about the test that he, Ron, and Hermione had done. Ginny had been impressed at the level of magic it would have taken to produce such illusions, but neither of them had been surprised. They had learned that the only real limits to what magic could do, was one's knowledge and imagination.

Now Harry lay reflecting on the events that had brought him to this point, and contenting himself with a feeling of accomplishment. He had done it. He'd become an Auror, or at least he'd made the training. That afternoon, Professor Shacklebolt had informed them that though they would receive their report on their testing the next day, their training at this point would be the same.

"All Aurors go through a year of basic training. You will learn the most advanced dueling techniques and then some. You will learn how to interview witnesses and suspects, and you will be taught how to brew Veritaserum, as well as a host of other potions that can be invaluable in our fight against dark wizards." He had told him that afternoon. "You'll also be trained to disguise yourselves so effectively that even your own mother's won't recognize you unless you want them too." At this Ron and Harry exchanged a grin, and Shacklebolt said, "But most importantly, you will learn to survive. You three should know how difficult that can be, but the whole wizarding community, and even the muggles need your protection."

"If we're so important, than why the cut backs?" Ron had asked.

"We are important Ron, and there haven't been any cut backs. You see, they created a new taskforce to guard Azkaban, and as these needed to be highly trained Aurors, we had to cut our forces nearly in half, and that's after the losses to our ranks that we sustained during the war with Voldemort." Harry was happy to see that Shacklebolt no longer even flinched while saying the name. Shacklebolt then began to pace in front of them.

"Dark Wizards are always out there. As soon as you deal with one, another will inevitably rise to take his place. Because that is the nature of evil, there are always going to be people who believe they will succeed where the rest did not, that they can achieve eternal life, or that they can subjugate wizard-kind, or more commonly that they can run crime rings of petty thieves and murderers to gain wealth and power."

He continued for an hour, lecturing them on the importance of what they were embarking upon, and that their loyalty needed to be to the department, and their responsibility was to everyone to oppose evil. Harry had dunk in every word, relishing the feeling of having his deepest convictions vindicated. For many years Harry had thought much like this, though his loyalty had been to Dumbledore and the cause his parents had left for him, he had been fighting for good, and for freedom. The same reasons that Aurors fought.

Harry was brought back to the present as Ron burst into Harry's room.

"Harry, Hermione sent me to get you, she says we should all have something to eat before we turn in." He said. Harry smiled as a pleasant smell wafted into the room, that he assumed was coming from Hermione's cooking in the kitchen.

"What's she made for us tonight?" Harry asked.

"Actually, Her and I made it together." Ron said proudly.

"What? Ron Weasley's learning to cook?" Harry mocked as they left his room, and walked down the hall to the kitchen. Ron simply made a rude hand gesture, to happy to take Harry seriously. As they walked into the little kitchen, Hermione was just finishing setting all the plates out.

"You look tired Harry." Hermione said.

"So do you. But thanks for letting me talk with Ginny so long." Harry responded.

"Don't think we're going to make a habit of it though, I expect that we'll all have a pretty heavy course load before long." Hermione said, a hint of worry in her voice. There was a lull in the conversation as everyone took places at the small table. Then suddenly Harry was struck with an idea. He ate quickly, then summoned parchment and quill with his wand, and penned a quick note to Headmistress McGonagall.

"Who's that for?" Ron asked as he began to clear the dishes.

"Professor McGonagall, I have a favor to ask her." Harry said, and Ron simply shrugged it off, knowing that when the time came, Harry would tell all, because he always did.

Hermione then said she was going to her room to curl up with a book, and Ron asked Harry if he'd be up to a game of chess. Harry declined, saying that he really was quite tired, so Ron remarked that he'd go and ask Hermione instead.

Harry went back to his room, thinking that it really was earlier than usual for bed, but that he needed to be attentive because these classes could save his life one day. It was much as he'd always felt about defense against the dark arts. He entered the room, and Albus swiveled his head to gaze down at his master from his perch. Harry noticed that Albus was nearing time for regeneration. His feathers were not as lustrous as they had been, and lately the beautiful bird had been having a harder time fulfilling even simple tasks. Harry was a little worried about what caring for a young phoenix was going to entail after Albus was reborn from his own ashes, but he made a mental note to ask Hermione about it in the morning. Harry then changed into pajamas, and went to bed.

The next morning found the three young people up at the crack of dawn, all anxious about their day ahead.

"I bet there will be tons of work to do!" Hermione fretted.

"I hope not, what with chasing ruddy Voldemort all about the bloody countryside I'll be lucky if I remember half of what I did in N.E.W.T.s!" Ron said with a grin.

Harry chose not to comment as he shoveled food into his mouth, his mind on the letter he'd sent the previous evening. Harry was silently hoping that Professor McGonagall would send him a reply along with what he had requested before they had to leave.

"Harry, what are you staring at?" Hermione asked him, noticing that his gaze had been fixed on a window in the kitchen for a few moments now.

"Oh, I'm waiting for a reply from the Headmistress." He replied.

"What did you ask her?" Ron asked.

But before Harry could explain, there was a little pop and Dobby appeared in Harry's lap. Harry flew back in his seat at the shock of having the little fellow simply appear in his face like that, and the jolt nearly sent the poor house-elf tumbling to the floor.

"Dobby?" Hermione and Ron chorused together in surprise.

"Harry Potter Sir, 'tis good to be seeing you again! When the Headmistress told Dobby of your request, I is wasting no time, I is telling Winky, then I is coming straight here." Dobby squeaked in his high voice. He was wearing several mismatched socks, a tiny jumper which Harry knew Ginny had given him the year previous, and a stack of half a dozen squashy looking bonnets, that Harry supposed were from Hermione's efforts at liberating the elves in her fourth year.

"Harry, what's he doing here?" Hermione asked, a look on her face that said she was sure he was up to no good.

"I asked Professor McGonagall if I could hire him to help out here." Hermione's face turned stony, and Harry lifted a hand to stop her as she opened her mouth to argue the point. "Hermione wait, hear me out." Harry said.

"This had better be good Harry James Potter." Hermione huffed. Harry looked quickly to Ron who had a goofy grin on his face at the prospect of not being the object of Hermione's wrath for once.

"Hermione, I knew you'd object, but it was what you said last night that gave me the idea. We're going to need to study at least as hard as we did back at Hogwarts, and do you really want to have to do dishes instead of studying for an essay?" Harry said, his voice was slightly pleading.

"Harry, you know how I feel about house elves, it's slavery! You promised we'd learn to do without!" Hermione said, hurt evident in her voice.

"Dobby, are you my slave?" Harry asked, his eyes however never left Hermione's.

Dobby's saucer sized eyes became even bigger in shocked surprise, while his body shook with suppressed emotion.

"N- never! Harry Potter is saying to the Headmistress that he is paying Dobby! Harry Potter would never lie to Dobby, or to the Headmistress. Dobby is free, he serves only who he is wanting to miss." Dobby said, turning to Hermione and giving her a little bow.

"And, I'm giving him a raise from what Hogwarts was paying him. Please Hermione, in the end everyone will benefit!" Harry begged.

"And just think Hermione, now you'll have someone to knit for again!" Ron quipped, earning him a death glare from the girl in question.

Later that morning, Harry found himself in the room they had arrived in before, having apparated only a moment ago. Ron stood a little to the side, and Hermione appeared with a 'pop'.

"Where to first Hermione?" Harry asked.

"Well, our timetables say we should be going to the east wing, then to the class on the second floor." Hermione directed.

"And how do we get there?" Ron asked with a wry tone. Harry was amazed at how sarcastic Ron was being with Hermione this morning, the comments seemed never ending, and Harry wasn't sure Hermione appreciated it. However, if she was annoyed by it, she didn't show it. She walked ahead in relative silence, only talking when describing the way they were going in order to help Harry remember it. He also noticed that she walked with a bit of a bounce in her step he hadn't seen since Hogwarts, and that a little of her old bossiness seemed to have made a reappearance.

Ron meanwhile was jabbering on, his current topic being the latest news about the Chudley Cannons Quidditch team. Harry smiled as he heard Ron's voice filled with hope that this season would be the one where they broke the loosing streak that had lasted longer than they'd been alive. Harry didn't share this belief, and soon the two began a friendly row about which team was better, the Holly Head Harpies, or the Chudley Cannons.

"…Of course he's good Harry, but I still don't think that he'd last a chance up against…" Ron had been saying as Hermione put her hand in front of Ron, effectively causing him to run right into it, so engrossed in his defense of the Chudley Cannon's lead chaser that he'd hardly been paying attention to where they'd been going. Ron staggered and crashed to the floor as Hermione rounded on him.

"Enough Ron, we're here." She said, sticking her hand out to help Ron up. Ron took the proffered hand with a mumbled apology. She hauled him to his feet as Harry tried to stop his silent fit of laughter at what had just happened. Harry also noticed Ron's ears turned a little red, but then the moment was gone, and the three turned to the classroom door.

As they walked in, the first thing that struck Harry was how bright it was. Large windows lined the wall, allowing the maximum amount of light into the room, the walls were made of a lighter colored stone than Harry had seen in other parts of the castle, and the polished stone seemed to almost glow in the sun. The floor was a checkerboard of two shades of gray stone, and it too seemed to Harry to lend to the general radiance of the room. Their teacher stood up, and in a fluid movement seemed to swoosh around his desk at which he had been sitting in order to shake each of the young people by the hand.

"Good morning! My name is Professor Dumont, and I will be your teacher for the first period on most days." He said, his mood as bright as the room.

"Our time tables said that we were to be studying History with you, is that right Professor?" Hermione inquired.

"That's right. Now if you'll take your seats, I'll just cover the roll." He said with a French accent. He called out each of their names, noting them on a small piece of parchment.

"Now, I want you all to know that there is a reason why I choose to teach here. The subject we will be delving into over the time you are here with me will not be a pleasant one, neither a bright one. Mr. Potter, can you name the dark lord before Voldemort?" The professor asked.

"His name was Grindelwald, Sir." Harry said.

"And before him?" Professor Dumont continued.

"Er…" Harry said, racking his brains to try to remember what Professor Binns had said on the subject.

"Not surprising. For you see, it's not a subject that many wizards choose to study. However, as Aurors, we are called to often be able to predict what it is that a dark wizard or witch is going to do, and what better way to get to know their ways, then to study any witch or wizard who could ever serve as a role model to them. Know thy enemy!" Professor Dumont began.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione, spent the next hour and a half going over some of the darkest wizards and witches of all time. Some Harry had heard of before, such as Rasputin of Russia, and Jafar of Ancient Persia who had usurped so much power that in their day they nearly overthrew the muggle governments in the countries they had lived in, while murdering countless muggles, and any wizard who tried to stand in their way. Then there were others who Harry had never heard of, who's deeds seemed so vile, that Harry wondered if Voldemort had not gained inspiration from some of their works. A bell tolled the hour somewhere overhead in the castle, and that had been when Professor Dumont had sent them off to their next class. This Hermione had said was in the center of the castle. When they got to the doors that were said to lead to a corridor that led directly to where they were to have their next lesson, they opened it to discover that the corridor was in reality a covered walkway that opened onto an open courtyard. In the center of the field, waiting for them was Professor Shacklebolt.

"I assume you made it to your first class all right?" he inquired politely as he shook their hands.

"Yes Sir, but I must say, it's not my favorite topic of study." Hermione said.

"T'wasn't mine neither. But don't worry, what I've got planned for the rest of the morning should fix you up alright." He replied with a friendly smile, but a wicked little twinkle in his eye.

And fix them up it did. Soon they were to busy exercising, running, and performing everything that their teacher and trainer told them to do, than to be concerned with what terrible things Tiberius Erebus did in the second century. This, Professor Shacklebolt informed them was going to be their time to train physically, and with him. He also promised that they would have increased endurance, speed, stealth, accuracy, and strength when done, as well as a few dozen sore muscle groups. However, he also yelled to them as they performed their seventh lap around the large open courtyard, that it would also keep them alive.

Before Harry knew it, Lunch time had come and gone, and they were off to the west wing of the castle for Advanced Spells.

"Floor two and three-quarters?" Hermione remarked as they came to a place where the hallway simply stopped, and four staircases continued, each leading to a different floor. The problem was that they were labeled in a most unusual manner. The one to the far left read: "2 ¼", the next was labeled: "2 ½", and the third and fourth were labeled: "2 ¾", and "3rd" respectively.

"Three-quarters… seems a bit odd, don't it Hermione?" Ron said.

"Yes, though I suppose it could be that they added on to the castle using magic, and rather than having to change the third floor, they did this. After all, that's basically what happened at King's Cross Station and platform nine and three-quarters." She said.

"Honestly Hermione, is there anything you don't know?" Ron asked. Hermione's cheeks flushed slightly, as she grinned at her friend. They reached the classroom, and as they walked through the door they were greeted by a very unusual sight. Harry supposed the room itself could have been used as a dining hall, but was completely empty of furniture of any kind, rather the floors were covered in soft, yet sturdy mats, as were the walls up to what Harry supposed was seven feet, beyond that was stone, and the ceiling itself was arched like a cathedral.

"Welcome to class! We, that is Merlin and I," said a little man gesturing vaguely off to his left, "Shall be your instructors in the widest variety of spells you can possibly imagine."

Harry noted that this little man had been gesturing at nothing, not even a tapestry or painting of the great Merlin was to be found in the room. The man was dressed in lemon-yellow robes with flamboyant flares at the cuffs and at the hem line, he was nearly as short as Professor Flitwick had been, had sandy colored hair and a round face. This face had a charming, and infectious smile placed upon it, and in his eyes, Harry saw a twinkle of mischief.

"Come in, we haven't all day you know." The as yet, unknown little man said. "Or Merlin might sneak up behind you and…" He never finished, and Ron made a howl and jumped in shock and fear as two voices began to laugh.

"Who poked me?" Ron cried indignantly as he rubbed the spot on his back.

"I did." Said a wizard as he simply materialized from thin air behind them, and making the three spin around to see this new surprise. It was a tall, muscular looking wizard, wearing dark beige robes. His hair was brown, and shot through with gray, and his mouth was split by his laughing grin. This wizard however had something grim about him, and his face sported several scars, that forcibly reminded Harry of Alastor Moody, but then Harry realized that Moody had likely had more.

"My name is Professor Merlin Yohan Daedalus Simister. However, you can call me Professor Simister, or Merlin." He said in his deep voice.

"And I," said the short man in the violent yellow robes, "Am Leviathan Nicholas Flitwick, but you can simply call me Levi."

"Professor Flitwick, Sir…" Hermione began.

"No! Please, don't call me that. It's too formal, and besides professor Flitwick is a charms instructor at Hogwarts. No, no, indeed, please call me Levi, or sir if you must." He said.

Harry saw Professor Simister roll his eyes.

"I was just going to ask, are you related to Fillius Flitwick at Hogwarts?" Hermione asked.

"Yes he is, he's his nephew." Merlin said, while Levi scowled at him.

"Right, if that's quite done." Levi began, "Merlin and I will be teaching you more spells than I expect you've seen from a dizzying variety of wizarding cultures around the globe. Their incantations come from as many different linguistic backgrounds, so prepare to be tongue-tied, bruised and battered by the time you leave here each day." He said, and the twinkle had, by this time returned to his eyes.

"Right, today we'll be learning a favorite of mine, it's a shield spell Merlin picked up while traveling in the Caribbean." Levi said.

"Yes, it's based in the magic traditions of the Caribbean, have you ever heard of a Bokor?" Merlin asked.

Harry and Ron simply looked blankly at each other, while Hermione raised her hand.

"Ms. Granger?" Merlin said.

"A Bokor is a warlock for hire in Haiti, a country in the Caribbean, and is said to practice the dark arts." Hermione said.

"Correct Ms. Granger." Levi said.

"I know Professor Binns never taught us that!" Ron said.

"From them, I learned a very effective curse." Merlin began, "Levi, a test-subject?"

"Certainly!" Levi cried, and with a flourish of his wand, he summoned a hard foam dummy from a closet at the far end of the room.

"Now please observe closely." Merlin said, he then produced his wand, and in a clear voice cried, "Apiza gongo!"

There was a burst of violent mauve light, and the target appeared to be battered back by an unseen force.

"Now, it's your turn!" Levi said.

Several unsuccessful cudgel spells later, and the three friends made their way to the dungeons where they were told they would be doing potions.

"Is it some unwritten rule that potions has to be held in the most dark, dank, and creepy place in a castle?" Ron said as they arrived in the corridor that led to the small dungeons of Caer Andiwan Castle.

"This is it." Hermione said as they reached a solid wooden door. It suddenly swung open to reveal a tall man with long straight black hair, and penetrating dark eyes.

"Enter, we have much to do." He said.

They did so, taking the seats that the man gestured towards. They were ranged around a small table that had several different potion tools and ingredients on it. There was also a medium sized cauldron.

"For the beginning of this course I will ask you three to work together on our projects, and to distribute the work evenly among you." The man began, "I was told that you were under the tutelage of my old potions master Horace Slughorn your last two years at Hogwarts, and that together you succeeded in making Polyjuice potion as second years." It wasn't a question.

"My name is Erebus Raven, I will be your Potions Master while you study here. I assure you that while you are here you will need every ounce of that talent to do well, because the potions we will be making and studying were either too dangerous, or too complicated to study in school." He concluded in his fast paced, yet smooth voice.

Harry didn't know what to think of the man, he was certainly as clean as the late Severus Snape had been greasy, however this man wore black robes, and seemed to prefer darkness to light, standing in the shadows most of the time. Harry wasn't quite sure what to make of the man.

"I took the liberty of providing you with a potions book, these recipes are ones I have personally collected from all over the world. Some are as dark as the Bokor's zombie draught, others are as blessed as Nicholas Flamel's famous healing elixir which he created during his career as the most famous alchemist of the fifteenth century." Professor Raven said.

Hermione was leafing through the large tome, a look of wonder on her face. But Harry was becoming more and more uneasy. The way that Raven spoke of the dark zombie draught had been as if it had been his favorite drink.

"We shall begin with Dragon's Breath, a potion that originated from ancient Chinese wizards. Please turn to page twelve, and note that this potion is highly dangerous if not made precisely, and can cause spontaneous combustion. However if made correctly, it will protect the drinker from all forms of flame and fire." Professor Raven said.

"Was it called Dragon's Breath because it saved people from it, or because it was like drinking it if you goofed?" Ron whispered to Harry.