Chapter 8:
The dueling hall filled with silver smoke, obscuring the crowd, Percival, and Iris. Then the smoke quickly dissipated into the MACUSA Archives Library, where Iris was studiously pouring over an old case file. The case had set the current precedent for House Elf rights under ownership of a master. It was sure to be on the written exam, which was the following evening.
"Have you looked at Docket 555 yet?" Came a gratingly familiar voice from behind her.
Iris snapped her head around, locking gazes with none other than Percival Graves. He stood across the isle from her, his hands in his threadbare pockets.
"No. Why?" She snapped. Percival could have sworn he'd seen licks of fire flair up from behind her silvery eyes. Clearly, she was still quite angry with him. This did not seem to deter Graves, however.
"I checked it out yesterday and it's next on the study list. I thought maybe we could trade after you were done," he proposed, motioning to the case file in her hand.
As hard as she looked to find fault with his suggestion, Iris came up empty.
"Sure. Why not?" She shrugged, disinterested, before snapping the case file closed and shoving it in her satchel.
"I'm sorry about yesterday, I didn't mean to embarrass you," he said, before she could walk away.
Iris paused before turning her currier bag's lock closed. She didn't know why but his apology irked her even more than if he had just said nothing. He probably didn't even know why she was angry with him, she thought.
"I'll put the case file on hold for you when I'm done with it. I'd appreciate if you could do the same," she said shortly before turning and heading down the hall.
The next morning, Iris returned to the library to find Percival had dropped off the docket just as she had instructed him to. Thankfully, she hadn't bumped into him on the way there. She'd been purposefully avoiding him so she wouldn't have to suffer through another awkward conversation. She did not need outside stressors in her life at the moment. The exam was the next morning.
The sliver mist swirled over the scene once more revealing her old apartment. Iris walked in the door, clutching her test to her stomach and heaving a huge sigh. To her delight her test score reflected her hard work and far surpassed her own expectations. Percival excelled on the test as well. There was only a 2% difference in their scores, hers being the higher of the two. That meant it all came down to the flying course if she was going to earn top positioning in the class.
Iris decided to celebrate her victory with a bottle of wine and a little berry tart she'd bough from the bakery across the street. She knew the rest of her classmates were probably out at some café or other getting drunk and wreaking havoc. It seemed foolish to her to celebrate so early. A lot could happen between now and their last assessment. She had a momentary thought of Percival and what he might be doing. He didn't strike her as the partying type. He seemed far too serious for that nonsense. Then again, before she could criticize him for that, she had to look at herself and remember she was the one staying in and drinking alone.
She'd briefly entertained the idea of sending her father an owl about her success but then reminded herself it was merely the wine talking. She'd only just gotten out from under his thumb. Contacting him would only open up a whole can of worms.
There was no one at home to share the good news with and she had no time during training to make any friends in New York. Before she knew it, Iris was half a bottle of wine down, realizing she was currently more lonely than happy.
Pushing herself out of her overstuffed chair, Iris went to her cramped desk and began writing a note.
Mr. Graves,
Thank you for reserving the case file for me and congratulations on your high score. Would you like to celebrate over a drink?
Regards,
Miss Faeborn
She stared at the slightly sloppy handwriting for a moment before grabbing up the note and spitefully crumpling it up.
"Idiot," Iris grumbled. She couldn't be that desperate for company, she thought to herself. Again, she blamed the wine and headed off to bed.
Once she threw herself onto the mattress, the room went hazy and morphed into a lush, damp forest. Her classmates stood in a small clearing, nervously checking their flying gear and stretching.
The last examination was a grueling flying course held in the Catskill Mountains of New York. Iris already knew that Graves was going to be her greatest competition. Not only was flying a skill that Graves was not only highly proficient in, but famous for. He had been the champion of the Cross Country Flying League in his year at Ilvermorny and had broken several school records. Though her father wouldn't let her join the League at school, she had learned to fly from her mother at a young age and was confident enough in her own skills to stand up against the rest of the class, but Graves was a different matter. He was the only one she was worried about.
"Cadets, take your positions at the starting line!" Called the head instructor.
Everyone quickly filed in, the tension rising tenfold. The air was alive with an energetic, almost desperate, hum of energy.
"Mount your brooms!"
Brooms raced to the hands of their owners. Iris, cast a side-long glance at Percival who caught her eye. He seemed incredibly focused. Iris hoped he was at least a little nervous. Her heart was positively racing.
Between herself and Percival, she noticed Rowley staring daggers at her. She immediately fought off the concern brewing in the pit of her stomach and turned her gaze to the forest in front of them. She needed to concentrate.
"The final score for this test will be a combination of both time and obstacles completed," explained the instructor. "You will not score well if all you do is race to the end. If you are injured or can no longer complete the course, break the wishbone we provided for you and someone will come to your aid. And remember, no wands, no charms, no use of magic of any kind or you'll be immediately disqualified!"
"Riders take your marks," everyone leaned low over their brooms. "Get set," Iris took in a deep breath. "Go!" Sparks shot off from the instructor's wand and the trainees jetted off into the woods.
The first obstacle came into view, a barely visible force field stretched across two trees. Seeing an opening at the bottom, Iris flew beneath it, barely dodging a fallen log on the other side. A handful of others followed her, some failing, and others, not as fortunate to be nearby, had to skip it.
That's one down, she thought pressing forwards. There was really no easy way of keeping track of the other racers. It seemed the best strategy at the moment was to focus on her own performance.
Up ahead, she spotted two golden hoops which she rolled through and then a row of silver poles which she zigzagged between.
It seemed with every obstacle the herd was thinning out and she could see fewer and fewer riders around her. She hoped this meant she was becoming a front runner. Everything was panning out great until, out of nowhere, she was literally knocked off her broom.
Iris didn't see the other rider before it was too late. Before she could react, she felt a sharp elbow in her ribs and a forceful shoulder check that sent her off her broom and crashing to the forest floor. Coughing violently, Iris tried desperately to catch her breath. Her chest clenched in panic, realizing that she'd just been attacked. She immediately thought to reach for her wishbone and summon help, but that would only disqualify her. She had to get out of there immediately.
"Ain't wearin' a dress today," Rowley snorted, flying into her view, his wand raised. "Too bad, would have made a good show."
"They'll know you cheated," Iris yelled up at him, scooting backwards, trying to feel for her broom under the leaves.
"They'll probably thank me," Rowley snorted. "No one wants a dumb broad barking orders at them anyway. Women aren't cut out to be Aurors. Consider this a favor to MACUSA and to you."
Anger welled up inside Iris with every word he spoke. It came to a head just as she felt the handle of her broom beneath her fingertips. Seizing the opportunity, she immediately snatched it up in her hands and swung it with more power than she thought she had and smacked Rowley upside the head with the bristled end. The blow knocked him backwards and onto the ground.
Rowley spun around, clutching his red, cut-up cheek.
"You're a dead woman!" He howled before aiming his wand at her.
All at once, Iris's heart jumped in her throat and there was a sharp whooshing sound from beside them as a rider barreled low through the trees. Neither could turn their heads fast enough to see Percival Graves shoot by, petrifying Rowley where he was kneeling.
"Get back on your broom, Faeborn!" He yelled as he shot out of sight.
Kicking off from the ground, Iris sped after him. She didn't waste time trying to question his generosity and immediately threw herself back in the race. No doubt Rowley's stunt had lost her time and positioning.
Iris came upon three hoops which she deftly rolled through and continued onwards, pushing her speed to the limit. It was a reckless move, but she was desperate to catch up to Graves.
She could see several riders in front of her from between the trees. Zipping through a few more obstacles, she pushed herself until the figures in her peripheries were behind her.
The finish line came into view and so did Graves. He was the only rider in front of her. This was it, the race came down to the two of them. It was as if it were destiny. Iris pushed herself to the limit, until she and Percival were neck and neck. She focused in on that finish line, willed herself to go faster.
Once they crossed the line, they were nearly blinded by the white light from the flares shooting up from both sides of the boundary.
They weren't met with applause, just the whooshing sounds of the rest of their classmates flying by them as they finished.
Iris was in a daze. Her side burned from where Rowley slammed into her and she had no idea who won.
The group of instructors didn't walk over to congratulate either her or Graves but huddled together and began furiously whispering amongst themselves.
Iris looked over at Percival and it wasn't until she saw the look on his face that she realized something was terribly wrong. Then she remembered that not only did Rowley use magic during the test, which was absolutely forbidden, but so did Percival.
Iris was hit with a sharp stab of realization and immediately turned to him. "Mr. Graves, I-"
"First of all I would like to thank the participants who gave their all today," boomed the voice of the head instructor, Gerard Eddington, who was using a voice amplifying charm. Both Percival's and Iris's heads snapped in the direction of Eddington. "We pride ourselves on the steadfastness and resilience of our trainees. However, it seems there is evidence of foul play in today's exam. We will not be announcing a winner or posting scores until further notice."
The air filled with mutters and whispers then all eyes fell on Percival and Iris who could only pretend not to notice.
"Mr. Graves, Miss Faeborn," said Edgington who approached them. He resembled a walrus with his thick middle, handlebar mustache, and waddling gate. "I will need to see you both in my office the moment we get back to MACUSA."
Gray mist swooped in obscuring the forest and quickly dissipated, revealing the ornate hallways of MACUSA. Percival was already standing outside Edgington's office when Iris turned the corner. He seemed as calm as he could be- his hands stuffed in his pockets as he stared at his feet. His gaze shifted when he heard the clicking of Iris's heels on the black marble floor.
"I ran it over and over again in my head," she told him, seeming as prim and confident as ever. "You were only helping me. They can't punish you for that."
Percival raised a dark eyebrow at her certainty. "You think so?"
"It's my word against Rowley's. Besides, why wouldn't they believe me? I did the math, we're tied for top ranking in the class. So what do I gain from helping you?" She reasoned.
"Well, when you put it that way…" he smirked.
"Come on, you see my point," sighed Iris, crossing her arms in front of her. There was a brief silence before she added, "Thank you, by the way, for helping me."
"Of course," he nodded, his gaze meeting hers. "Does this mean you forgive me?"
Iris let out a laugh, hardly believing that he was still on about something so inconsequential as her forgiveness.
"Does that honestly still matter to you?" She asked, cocking her head in confusion.
Percival's expression didn't waver, "Yes, it does."
The young witch shook her head, stepping to the other side of the hall and leaning her back against the wall adjacent from her supposed rival.
"You really embarrassed me, you know?" Iris said finally. "I'm pretty sure you were only trying to help but people already believe I can't do this job. You swooping in like that… just made me look weak."
"Anyone who saw you during final assessments wouldn't think you are weak," assured Percival.
"You'd be surprised," she murmured, turning her gaze down the hall where an all-male group of Aurors passed by, talking about the banalities of the day. Percival watched too, seeing the proof in her assertions. Not one woman could be found among them.
He supposed he never had to think of such disadvantages. The odds of becoming an Auror were already stacked against the academy students- he didn't really have time to consider what it meant to add prejudices on top of all that. And with that thought, suddenly, he understood her anger and constant concern.
"Why did you make that bet?" asked Iris, cutting through the silence. "You don't even know me."
"I thought it was obvious," he told her, a curious smile tugging at his lips.
The office door between them opened revealing Edgington, who requested to talk to Iris first.
"Miss Faeborn, please sit down," he said, offering her a chair in front of his desk. Once she got comfortable, he proceeded to ask for a detailed account of what happened in the mountains. To the best of her abilities, Iris gave an accurate account of Rowley's attack and how Percival helped her escape him. When she was finished, he asked her a few questions regarding Graves and then regarding Rowley. She chose her words very carefully, knowing whatever she said had a huge baring on Graves's future. Finally, his questioning came to a close.
"We are incredibly impressed with your performance in the program. It has been quite some time since we've seen a trainee with such an aptitude for the job. I was advised to wait in telling you this, but I don't see the harm in letting you know that we are offering you a position as an Auror on the Investigative Team."
Iris was speechless. He had switched gears so quickly, she hardly knew how to feel. Considering the reason for this meeting, the moment seemed bittersweet. Still she could not keep herself from smiling.
"Thank you, sir. I'm truly honored," she told him, reaching out and enthusiastically shaking his offered hand.
"Well, it is a pleasure to have you on board," he replied. She could tell he was just about to wrap things up and her mind quickly shifted back to the current predicament.
"Can I say something?" She asked quickly, watching him round his desk.
"Of course," he smiled politely.
"Mr. Graves performed just as highly as I did. He even went beyond his role as a trainee and defended one of his peers from an aggressor. I truly think he deserves to graduate," she said, not realizing she had her hands clenched.
Edgington's expression suddenly became unreadable as he looked over at her.
"I understand how you must feel," he sighed. "Mr. Graves is an exceptional trainee, but what happened today was unacceptable. I will treat him fairly but I will also act within the parameters of MACUSA's policies. Cheating, whether it be for a good reason or not, is still cheating and Aurors have a standard to uphold."
"That seems pretty unfair, Sir," she said, holding fast to her conviction.
"I'm sorry, Miss Faeborn, but as you already know, there is a difference between fairness and justice." He then walked over to the door and held it open for her.
Iris met Percival's dark eyes, feeling the worry radiating from them, before the world went black.
Suddenly, Iris rose up from the pensieve with a gasp. Staring down at the silver bowl, she pushed her hair back with her hands. Smoothing over her face she felt the wetness of tears and wondered at what point had she started crying.
Her extracted memory of that week ended there, however, she could still vividly recall her first day as an Auror even without the help of a pensieve. She'd been shown to her desk by a superior and was given a stack of paperwork to go through. Busy work as a light introduction to the office, she assumed. Regardless, she set about completing her task… so much so, she didn't even notice the person sitting down in the desk that butted up against the front her own.
"Morning," she heard an unexpectedly familiar voice. Looking up, she saw Percival sitting across from her, a smirk tugging at his lips. "It seems to me like we're partners."
Iris couldn't help but crack a wide grin. She was actually very glad to see him.
Not only had Percival been waived of his cheating allegations, he was also put on the Investigative Team with her.
Iris wiped her tears away and sat back in her chair, her eyes drawn to the ceiling. Seeing Percival whole again was just as hard as it was necessary. She needed to make sure she'd have the chance to see him that way again. Although Picquery's orders to investigate him seemed to put her in the position of persecutor, she realized that it was also the best way to defend him. It seemed that perhaps she might be able to remain his advocate after all. If she was diligent enough, she knew she could save him.
AN: Sorry for the long hiatus. I've been incredibly busy with that dimension we call the real world. Still chapters will slowly be rolling through. I've not abandoned this story.
