Deleted scenes from Tower Indigo's Auror training arc (chapters 2 through 5). Obviously, these deleted scenes contain spoilers for Tower Indigo chapters 1 through 5.
All of these scenes were originally part of the main story, but they unfortunately had to be cut because even though I immensely enjoyed writing them, they didn't contribute much to the plot. Each deleted scene is relatively self-contained.
Rated M for language, violence, gore, and scenes of a sexual nature.
"You lot, back in formation."
Ezra rushed to comply. But the conspicuously empty spot in front of him captured his attention for longer than he'd care to admit.
"Au commande!"
They snapped to attention.
"Remember, left step is always first. Ready?"
"Yes, Caretaker!"
"Forward—ho!"
They marched onward without looking back.
Left, left, left, left... he recited in his head as he marched, primarily as a means of avoiding thinking of anything else, such as the searing pain in his legs. At least they were back at a walking pace, instead of a jog. Maybe their instructor had taken a bit of pity on them.
When they finally returned to the quad after an eternity, Ezra nearly cried with relief.
"Cadets—halt! Back to ranks!"
After they had returned to their standard formation, sans one witch, the Caretaker stared them down. "It could have been worse," he finally grunted. "Remember, for any marching commands, it's always the left foot. Some of you screwed up and halted on the right, instead of the left."
"I'm hard on you because I have to be," he continued after a moment's silence. "If you can't follow instructions, I need to know now. If you're not physically or magically strong enough, I need to know now. If you're a quitter, I need to know now. Because if you fuck up in the field, you will get yourself killed, or worse yet, your partner. And that will make me very unhappy, because it reduces my end-of-year bonus. Are we clear?"
"Yes, Caretaker!" they shouted, more than a few of them quite pale.
"Weasley, what was that noise?"
"Sir, I think that was my stomach..." the Gryffindor said, his face rather red—whether from exertion or embarrassment, Ezra wasn't sure.
"Did I give you permission to make that noise?"
"No, Caretaker."
"Then why did it happen?" he asked expectantly.
"I'm sorry, sir, I can't really help it. I'm a bit hungry..." Weasley trailed off.
The man nearly ran forward until he was standing over Weasley, looking down on him."You're hungry, Weasley? Did I not provide you with a fulfilling breakfast?"
"You did, but we've been jogging all day, and... we missed lunch, I guess," he said with a lopsided shrug, not quite daring to meet the instructor's eyes.
"Oh, no!" the Caretaker bellowed dramatically. "We missed lunch? How terrible, I'll be sure to have a word with—get fucking used to it, Weasley!" he snarled, backhanding the boy so hard that he was knocked to the ground. "If you signed up to be an Auror because you thought you'd be getting your mother's cooking three times a day, you've made a fatal mistake."
"Sir," Robbins hesitantly began, cowing briefly when the Caretaker turned his glare towards him. "That can't exactly be healthy, can it?"
"You're not here to be healthy, Robbins. This is Auror training, not Saint Bloody Mungo's."
Robbins shut up.
"Coincidentally, next on today's schedule is a lunch break..." The Caretaker pulled out a quill and a piece of parchment attached to a board. With a hum, he crossed a line out and scribbled something underneath it. "But it seems there's been a change of plans!" he said with a grotesque smile.
"Way to go, Weasley..." someone muttered acerbically.
"We seemed to enjoy our press-up party this morning. Or at least, I did."
Oh, please no, Ezra thought with a grimace.
"Let's do a few more—as a group, eh? Assume the position!"
The cadets dropped to the ground—some more gracefully than others—holding the press-up position as they waited for their cue.
"I won't count you off this time. Start."
As thirty-one recruits attempted their various press-ups, the Caretaker watched silently. Or rather, silently except when he barked at them to restart due to someone messing up.
After he finally attained his goal of ten press-ups, Ezra painfully pulled himself back to his feet, doing everything he could to not collapse on the spot, and watching as the others followed suit.
"Appleby, did you do ten press-ups?"
"Yes, sir, I did ten," the boy responded.
"Yaxley, did you do ten?"
"Yes, sir."
"Vance?"
"Yes, sir."
"Cartwright, front and centre!" The girl quickly complied, screaming to a halt right in front of the instructor. "I am not pleased with this group. And neither should you be. Do you know why?"
Her eyes widened and she thought for a moment, before shaking her head slowly.
"Are you sure? What exactly did I ask you to do?" The Caretaker folded his arms as he awaited a response.
After a moment, she finally said: "You asked us to do ten press-ups as a group. We didn't do them as a group."
"No. You did not. Give me ten, as a team. I don't care how you do it—just get it done."
Cartwright turned around and stepped forward. "Listen up, everyone. The Caretaker wants ten press-ups as a team, together. I'll call the pace." She sighed and then added almost as an afterthought: "Please don't screw it up; we all want to be done with this."
She dropped to the ground once again, and the others did the same. Everyone was exhausted, but no-one wanted this to last any longer than it absolutely had to.
"One!" she shouted. Thirty-one bodies dipped down in unison and struggled to push themselves back up.
"Two!"
And so it went.
Ironically, it was a testament to just how miserable they were feeling that they finished the set in their first attempt. If there was one thing they had learned in their short time so far at Aurum Vale, it was that doing things right the first time was infinitely better than the alternative.
"You worthless clods are exhausted, but you still got it in your first try. Why the hell haven't I seen that level of effort until now? That is the effort I want to see. Now get out of here—get some food. I'll see you in two hours."