The Battle Mage
The Auror Department was always bustling, especially considering the cleanup necessary after over a decade of guerilla warfare and raids by the Death Eaters and their Lord, but despite that fact, today was particularly uneventful. A few key workers had called in sick with the Wizarding Flu, and their replacements either weren't alive, had been thrown in Azkaban, or couldn't be reached in time to keep to that day's trials so they had to be rescheduled. In other words, some called it a Paper Day, due to the untold amounts of paperwork they had to catch up on.
Alastor Moody was barking at some of the trainees, his newest protégé, Amelia Bones, standing to his right when his bright blue fake eye quit its nauseating rolling and focused on something behind him.
A soft glow bounced off the walls and a Patronus of a grim bounded into view. More than one Auror gaped at the intimidating canine as it stalked towards Mad-Eye Moody. Aurors all over the world were required to memorize the Patronus forms of the living battle mages, who were sometimes called in to work with them in exchange for money or sent them messages out of courtesy when they crossed through their country.
This was the Patronus of the newest battle mage – and the only female in about three centuries if the rumors were true – called The Morrigan. Everyone knew that she was James' Potter's younger sister and the only living battle mage from Britain's magical community as well.
The grim stopped in front of him and a feminine voice snarled from its mouth, "Tell Alastor Moody to get his ass down to Number 4, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey, and to bring along an Auror that can actually think for themselves."
There was a moment of awed silence as the Patronus disappeared, and then everyone turned to Moody, begging to go, even the former Slytherins had dropped their pride for a moment to plead with their eyes.
He growled like a tiger and snapped, "Bones, let's go."