July 2001

"Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and business."

Despite how much he'd planned on being the unflappable, unruffled sort Aurors (probably) favoured, Dennis started at the dispassionate voice sounding not, as he'd expected, from the receiver held awkwardly to his ear, but as though it was emanating from a cool, composed, and rather bored woman at his elbow.

"Uh, Dennis Creevey? Dennis Benedict Creevey, that is, if it makes a difference. I, uh, have an appointment? I have the letter – they said to bring it… for the ACHE, the Auror Competence and Handiness Evaluation I mean, I think I didn't say yet –"

"Thank you," he was cut off mid-rummage in his pockets by the clipped voice. "Visitor, please take the badge and attach it to the front of your robes."

A decisive click sounded, and Dennis saw a square silvery badge emerge out of the returned coins chute. 'Dennis B. Creevey, Auror-Hopeful' was printed across the top. He pinned it to the top of his brand-new work robes, purchased especially for the occasion – mum was going to fix up his Hogwarts ones by removing the crest for him to repurpose for regular wear if needed, but she'd insisted he needed a fancier set for interviews, and had bought him the ones he was now wearing. At least he'd stopped her from getting the cerulean-blue to 'match his eyes' – the charcoal grey seemed less flashy and more appropriate, and was a less cumbersome style to boot, perfect for an Auror-to-be. He caught himself briefly wondering about what Natalie would've thought of the robes before forcing his mind away from his ex-girlfriend to his upcoming test. Trading one ache for another, as it were.

"Visitor to the Ministry, you are required to submit to a search and present your wand for registration at the security desk, which is located at the far end of the Atrium. Please also present your invitation letter to the guard at the desk so that your badge can be equipped with the necessary charms. Failure to do so will disallow you access to invitation-only restricted Ministry areas."

X-XXX-X

"Level Two, Department of Magical Law Enforcement, including the Improper Use of Magic Office, Auror Headquarters, and Wizengamot Administration Services."

Dennis tripped out of the lift, feeling a light tingle on his chest through his robes under the square pin, as the charms on the floor registered that he had permission to be there. The golden grille gates closed behind him with a crash. It was still not even a quarter to eight, he was early. Clutching his wand in one hand and the invitation letter in the other in case it had to be presented again – though Archie, the security guard, had told him it wouldn't be necessary now that he'd verified Dennis had business on Level Two – he made his way down the empty corridor, looking for a door marked Auror Recruitment. There it was – up on the right, before the heavy oak doors that guarded the Auror Office. He could hear the rumble of many voices, sounding alert and busy despite the early hour.

He knocked on the door, a little timidly, and it swung open, creaking, into a room sparsely-filled with equally nervous and excited seventeen- to twenty-year-olds. Other hopefuls, then. The door shut behind him with a decisive click, swinging open with a creak once again when someone else entered, a minute behind him, before clicking shut again. He looked around for a familiar face so he would have someone to stand next to while fidgeting, his eyes alighting upon a freckle-faced, sandy-haired Hufflepuff boy he vaguely recognised. He made his way over to him, nodding at the boy who must have had at least half a foot on Dennis, standing a little taller to make himself feel better when he realised he came vaguely near the bloke's chin. "Dennis Creevey," he introduced himself, stuffing the letter in his pocket, though the wand remained loosely in his grip. "I know who you are – you hung out with my dormmate Kevin Whitby in school, didn't you? Owen Cauldwell." The cheery voiced fellow shook his hand firmly, and they engaged in light conversation while waiting for the Aurors to show up. Over the next ten minutes or so others trickled in, until the room was about half-full. There were perhaps twenty people in all. The door kept swinging shut in between entrants, and the creak of the hinges combined with the click of the latch was almost rhythmic in its regularity in the minutes leading up to eight, Dennis thought.

Then the creak of the door was heard once more, but this time, there was no click – which made Dennis look up. The door was still open, but no one seemed to have come inside – the doorway was clear. He scanned the crowd but could see no obvious Auror – everyone he could see had the nervous demeanour of an interviewee rather than the business-like air of an interviewer. Then he heard the belated click of the door. That's a bit weird, he thought, and then a few moments later there was a ripple in the air in front of him and he reacted almost without thinking, snapping the wand in his hand out and yelling "Protego!" though his voice was drowned out by a chorus of spells in the room. A flash of light splashed against his shield.

When the dust settled, he looked around to see that most of the room had been stopped in their tracks by the Freezing spell, noticeable chagrin on some faces while bewilderment rested on some others. A few others were moving around like he was, a couple had also gotten shields up and one black-haired girl was dusting off her robes – she had evidently dived out of the way of a spell aimed at her. They exchanged quick grins before looking at the six Aurors in the middle of the room, who were surveying them all impassively. Ron was one of them, Dennis noticed. Harry was not there.

"Good morning. I am Head-Auror Gawain Robards, and you are my fresh batch of Auror-hopefuls for the year. Welcome to the first lesson of Auror training – and this one's free, whether you make it or not past the tests – Constant Vigilance! Which only a scant few of you displayed today morning. Well done to those of you who did – for the ones who didn't, why?"

He paused to let the first bit sink in, before continuing.

"Many of you didn't notice anything was amiss until you were already immobilised. Some of you couldn't get your wands out in time – I would recommend a wand holster. A few tried to dodge – only one was successful, well done. Physical training will help the rest of you develop better reflexes. Most of you who got your shields off in time had the advantage of not being the first one being aimed at in your general vicinity, which of course helps, but one of you…" his keen eyes scanned the crowd until they alighted upon Dennis, who he indicated with an eyebrow. "One of you had a shield up about the same time the first spell went off. Mind telling us all how you did it?"

Oh great. Now everyone – well, everyone not immobilised – was looking straight at him. He cleared his throat.

"It was the door," he said. "It creaked open and clicked shut with every person coming in. And then just before eight it creaked open but didn't click shut. I looked up but the doorway was empty – which I suppose was you lot, invisible, or disillusioned actually, given the whole ripple when you move thing, coming in together. I looked around but couldn't see anyone who looked like they were running the show – and then the door clicked shut and then I saw a ripple in the air and just sort of… reacted." He shrugged.

"What's your name?" asked Robards, in a seeming non-sequitur.

"Uh, Creevey. Dennis Creevey." He said, and winced. He may as well as have referred to himself as double-oh-seven. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a few people smirk, but the reference seemed to have passed the Head-Auror by. Ron winked at him when he caught his gaze – he supposed George or Ginny had filled him in about his Auror ambitions. Robards looked him over consideringly, then gave a sharp nod, before continuing to address the rest of the room.

"Everyone in this room has the academic qualifications to be an Auror, and yet, less than half of you will make it through the Auror Competence and Handiness Evaluation to the end of the week, when Auror training will actually commence. This is because in the real-world NEWTs don't matter. NEWTs won't save you when you're up against a desperate criminal with nothing to lose and a wand aimed at your throat. Fancy spell-work can fail in the face of simple-but-speedy, but brute force will falter in the wake of considered strategy. Battles are not won on duelling grounds, politely trading spells back and forth. But make no mistake – fighting is not all that we do. Auror work is boring. It is stakeouts at odd hours of the day or night, diligently investigating the slightest report or the smallest anomaly. It is sifting through the haystack of hearsay to find the needle of actionable information. It is often finding different ways to hide, in order to be able to fight another day. And it is teamwork, trusting your fellow Aurors with more than just your life. So, the next few days are about finding those amongst you who are capable of taking on this oft-thankless task, and we use the ACHE to do so."

Robards stopped, and the Auror on his right – a ponytailed brunet with broad shoulders about ten- or twelve-years Dennis's senior – spoke briskly and cheerfully. "Right! Down to brass tacks then. My name's Andrew Williamson – call me Williamson, everyone does - one of your testers. In a moment we'll finite you lot so you can move again, and we'll start you off on the written portion. Following that, we can take a break for everyone to grab a bite from the Café before we head into today's practical portion – the obstacle course in the afternoon. That's all for today. Tomorrow, in the morning we'll test your Potioneering skills, and in the afternoon you'll each be duelling one of the Junior Aurors. The day after that will be your last day of testing – we'll have a group assignment and a personal interview, but you'll know which one comes first for you depending on the group you're assigned to. Thursday's your day off, and we'll OWL you by Friday afternoon to let you know if you made it or not. Let's go!"

X-XXX-X

NEWTs had nothing on the ACHE, Dennis thought. First off, that written test had been nothing like he'd expected – no listing off five exemptions to Gamp's Law here. Instead, it had been a bit more like an aptitude test, positing situations and asking him what he'd do if he was there. And not all the questions were "hex now, ask later" scenarios – one of the problems involved a situation where he'd had to brief a field-Healer about injuries suffered by a fellow Auror, and he had to pick the top three most pertinent ones. Another required him to hypothesise a plan of attack for an enemy stronghold, and a third asked him to detail six ways of evading detection while following/eavesdropping on a suspect down Diagon Alley (he'd gone with disillusionment, Polyjuice, glamour charms, Animagus transformation, invisibility cloak, and, finally, when he couldn't think of anything else, WWW Extendable Ears with a lengthening charm placed on them, so he could hide around a corner to eavesdrop). The kind of test you couldn't really study for, but he'd always been the kind of bloke who didn't like to memorise rolls and rolls of parchment anyway.

The obstacle course had been fun, though – he had been just a bit too young to attend Hogwarts under Professor Lupin, and Colin had told him stories of a final exam that had filled him green with envy. It seemed as though this had been Professor Lupin's inspiration, though obviously harder than what his then second-year brother had faced, of course. Still, Dennis hadn't been in the DA for nothing. There had been creatures and plants and traps in the forms of hexes and curses he'd had to defend himself from, and the adrenaline rush had him thrumming. He'd been rather winded at the end, with not just a few bruises and scrapes – he really needed to add in some sort of physical fitness regimen – but he felt alive. See, Natalie, I knew this was the right decision, he'd thought with a fierce internal grin, before realising he was having a conversation in his own head.

The Potions one, less so. They'd been presented with a mock scenario – a fellow Auror stricken by an unknown poison. They'd had a few minutes to interview the Auror to ascertain as much information as possible; and been provided with an incomplete inventory of ingredients and limited time to brew a potion to help the situation in whatever way they could; and then write up the methodology and proposed solution. This was exactly the kind of Potioneering that Dennis was utterly pants at. He could follow instructions reasonably well after George's training, even multitask, but inventing an antidote was beyond him, especially when he would be expected to use his understanding of ingredients to substitute a missing one for something else (did Knotgrass and Fluxweed serve similar purposes? What could you replace Alihotsy leaves with? Merlin only knew). Eventually, after several panicked moments, he brewed a Stasis potion, figuring that it would at least slow down the poison's progression, and wrote about how he would administer that and then take the Auror to St. Mungo's so a real Healer could go about the business of curing them.

His favourite part had been the duel with the Junior Auror, Loretta Cornhill, even though he'd eventually had his arse handed to him when she'd sent a flock of pecking paper cranes, of all things, at his head before nailing him with a Stupefy as he'd tried to beat them off to no avail. So much for "no conjuring creatures" – inanimate birds didn't count, apparently. Initially chagrined, his mood had soared when he realised none of the hopefuls had won their duels either; he'd lasted a respectable amount of time, too, though one of the other hopefuls, Pritchard ('don't call me Graham, do I look like a cracker to you?') had the distinction of holding out the longest. Cornhill winked and blew on the end of her wand when she revived him, and he felt a little burst of attraction when he locked eyes with the cheeky expression on her freckled face, a small cut – courtesy him – along her right jaw. It felt nice to be noticing other witches again, even if he still felt completely disinclined to pursue something further.

By the time Wednesday rolled around, he was feeling tentatively confident. The group assignment – conducted in four groups of five – had tested them on their detection skills, by turning them loose upon a faux case: complete with crime scene images, suspect and victim profiles, transcripts of suspect interviews, and initial crime scene reports. They were tasked with discovering inconsistencies, leads, anything at all that could further an investigation; and were monitored throughout by some Auror or the other – Neville had been one of them for their group, and even Robards stopped by, briefly. Dennis wasn't much for taking the lead, so he was content staying in the background and yielding the floor to others; but in deference to the fact that he was being evaluated for his contributions, he made sure to voice most thoughts in his head, valuable or otherwise. Like his suspicion that the supposed victim had not, as the crime scene suggested, died through Muggle means – the cuts were too neat, which suggested a cutting spell of some sort; or perhaps she'd been drugged, or they'd been inflicted postmortem? He didn't have enough Healing knowledge to know for sure; but had put that down as a suggested line of inquiry anyway, just to be able to have contributed in some meaningful way.

The very last exercise had been a short interview, with three interviewers – a lady from Wizarding Resources (Annabel Entwhistle), Head Auror Gawain Robards, and Harry – the first time he'd come face to face with Harry since the ACHE had started. The interview had been led mostly by Annabel, who'd asked him the questions he'd fully expected to have to answer: why did he want to become an Auror (because all that was needed for evil to flourish was for good men to do nothing), what were his strengths (Defence, and maybe attention to detail?) and weaknesses (physical fitness and Potions), did he have any relevant experience (he'd joined the DA when he was twelve and stayed a part of it at fourteen – he shot Harry a look and saw a faint smile ghosting by his lips as he said it). Robards had watched him appraisingly throughout before asking him a question he hadn't prepared and therefore had had to stumble through an answer for. He didn't think there was anything he could teach his fellow Auror-Trainees (should he get in) that they didn't already know, but since Robards seemed to be expecting an answer and "nothing" didn't seem like a valid response, he mumbled something about teaching them how to blend in with Muggles and utilising Muggle resources to solve Wizarding problems. The answer seemed to satisfy Robards, so perhaps it wasn't too bad.

Harry hadn't said much past the initial hellos, he'd just watched Dennis through inscrutable emerald eyes. He kept waiting for Harry to throw a question at him, but it didn't come.

Twenty minutes later the interview was wrapping up. The ACHE was over, and in 48 hours he'd know if he was being promoted from Hopeful to Trainee. Annabel left first, shaking his hand and trotting out with brisk efficiency, followed by Robards. Dennis made to go, too, but he was stopped by Harry clearing his throat.

"Stay for a mo', Dennis."

He stopped, looking at Harry, who looked back at him with a slightly hesitant, haunted look. He wondered if it was because his brother's idol was seeing past him, looking at Colin in the planes of Dennis's face, in the mop of curly blonde hair on his head, in his clear tenor. Harry looked a bit like how he had at Colin's funeral when he'd given his condolences – there was an echo of that guilt still in his eyes.

"I wanted to see how you were doing – how things have been with you." Why was he asking this now, over two years later? Harry had never been friends with Colin, never had more than passing acquaintanceship with him, and even lesser with Dennis.

"Cheers, Harry," Dennis replied, a little bemusedly. "I'm doing alright."

"Dennis- do you want to join on just because of Colin? To… avenge him, I guess." Harry spit out, the words tumbling over each other.

"How did you – George." He replied, feeling a little stung that George had spoken to Harry about him. Those thoughts had been for George only. He also couldn't help wondering if he'd told Harry about his other fears and doubts, ones brought on by Natalie's unceremonious departure from his life and circle of friends - they hadn't spoken since that night in Gryffindor tower.

"Yes and no," Harry said, surprising him. "I mean – George spoke to me briefly; told me you were thinking of applying. I sort of gauged your motivations for myself."

"Honestly, Harry," Dennis sounded tired all of a sudden. If this was going to keep him from the Auror office, so be it. His thoughts were jumbled and contradictory and there was precious little sense to be made from them – Harry was welcome to them.

"I don't know. I don't know if this was something I would have ever done if Colin was still around because I'd be lying if I said revenge wasn't a huge factor. Of course I want to catch Dolohov. Of course I want to make him pay. I don't think Colin would have ever wanted me to though, and he would most certainly have never wanted to himself. He wanted to be a photographer, for Merlin's sake. And I think if I wanted to live my life dedicating myself to his memory, living the life he didn't get to live; I should be beating down the door at the Prophet, camera in hand. But I'm not because I don't. I don't want his sacrifice to be meaningless and that, to me, means that I have to aim for my goals whether anyone thinks they're a good idea or not; and one of those goals is catching the rat-bastard who murdered my brother and tossing his arse in Azkaban to rot. I didn't lie to Robards - I'm standing here after three days of getting my arse kicked in multiple inventive ways, feeling alive in a way I don't think I've felt in a long time. I don't think I'm brave. I don't think I'm particularly skilled. Colin was brave – he didn't really want to fight, ever, but he did it because it was the right thing to do. And I'm decent at Defence, I know that – thanks for that, by the way – but I'm nothing special. But I don't need to be. I don't want the glory; I just want to catch a whole lot of bastards that deserve to be caught so I can rest easy. Colin's already resting, Harry. But I'm not. I don't even care if I'm not the one to make Dolohov pay – I just want to try."

X-XXX-X

Two days later, he was standing in his parents' living room while they hugged him, throat tight, all three of them teary-eyed, staring blankly at the acceptance letter held in his hand.

X-XXX-X

A/N: Another rather Dennis-centric chapter, but I quite enjoyed this exploration into how the Auror Office selects its hopefuls. I always figured it must be near-impossible to get in, since they're supposed to be the elite. Some of the text in the first half of the chapter comes from Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, but I added in the bit about restricted-access Ministry areas because they absolutely should have at least a modicum of security. Why were teenagers waltzing into the most secretive and classified areas of the Ministry after hours completely unencumbered by even the slightest obstacle?! How are there not more espionage-related international incidents, I ask you. Kingsley's Ministry would not be this inept.

Loretta Cornhill, Annabel Entwhistle, Graham Pritchard, Williamson – all of these are characters from either canon or the extended Harry Potter universe. Honestly, the Lexicon is a boon!

Short author's note this time since not much happened. Next chapter has a bit more excitement – we have a time jump past Dennis's training and straight into his year as a Junior Auror. Even if the 'main case' is still some chapters in the making, we'll get some case!fic bits in almost every chapter from now.

Also – next week update will be mildly delayed, to Saturday or Sunday, but will definitely be up by 7th November!

Please do review :)