Roger Davies was smiling cruelly as he walked into the cubicle. Davies rarely did anything cruel, but when he did, it meant that someone was in for the misery of his life. In a way, Davies was much like Shacklebolt, only Davies didn't have nearly as much control over Leopold's life as Shacklebolt did. Leopold wondered which would be worse and started hearing funeral music again.
"Have you seen the memo?" Davies asked carefully, the smile almost painted on his face. Leopold's heart sank.
"No. God, no I didn't. What happened now?"
"The, ah, second part of Auror training begins today."
"The second—you mean when the trainees shadow Aurors? That's nice."
"Yes. Nice. Every Auror gets paired with a trainee, you realize. Every Auror. And you don't pick who you get. Shacklebolt picks. Come now, Ackerely, you weren't in Ravenclaw for your looks." And it hit him. Leopold was now clued in to what Davies was hinting at. And it wasn't, as Leo had previously stated, nice.
"He wouldn't," Leopold breathed. His hand involuntarily clenched on his desk so tightly his knuckles went white. He hoped that Davies was kidding, that Leopold had somehow managed to get the bold blonde or the fiery redhead.
"He would. And he did." Leopold shot up and bolted to the message board. Sure enough, tacked on top of the Auror birthday sheet was a list of the trainees and the Aurors they were to follow around. Taking a deep breath, Leopold scanned the list until he found Harry Potter's name. Directly across from it was…
"Fawcett?" Leopold spun around to the sound of Roger Davies' derisive laughter. Davies was hugging himself, cackling so loudly many curious heads appeared over the tops of cubicles. Leopold wasn't sure if he wanted to hit Davies for giving Leo several mini heart attacks or laugh along with him. "I cannot believe you would do that to your partner and best friend."
"The look on your face—priceless!" Davies leaned against a wall for support, tears streaming down his cheeks. "I wish I could have taken a picture!" Leopold rolled his eyes and turned back to the list to see who he was really supposed to be trailed by.
"Ernie Macmillan. Who is that?"
"I don't know. Some young, bright eyed, hopeful little Auror for you to corrupt." Davies wiped the tears from his eyes, the remnants of his outburst still in his voice. "My goodness, that moment made life worth living."
"I'm glad I could reaffirm your existence. I think I aged ten years in ten seconds. I have a weak heart now. I should retire." The people who had stuck their heads out to see what was going on now shook their heads and returned to their work.
"This poor Ernie Macmillan is going to have to get used to your dramatic mood swings. You're worse than Cho, I swear."
"You owe me a drink."
"Fine, fine. If you're going to be a baby about it." Davies rolled his eyes and turned toward the break room, most likely on the prowl for fresh coffee.
"Wait a minute. Who is your ickle Auror, then?"
"Susan Bones. I hear she's rather adept at defensive magic." Davies winked and continued on his hunt for coffee. Leopold was about to follow when he noticed Harry Potter walk into the department, trailing closely behind Fawcett, who looked shaken. Her spectacles were slightly askew and her brown hair was matted. Upon second glance, Leopold noticed, too, that Potter seemed a bit nervous.
"All right there, Samantha?" Leopold asked kindly. "Potter." His address was not as kind to Potter, who seemed to notice the coolness in Leopold's voice and acknowledged the greeting with a scowl.
"I was before I was paired off with this abnormality," Fawcett answered, furiously. She turned to Potter, her expression softening a fraction. "I don't mean anything unkind by it, but you must admit, that's not normal."
"I have admitted it. How could I deny it?" Potter replied, tartly.
"What happened?" Leopold inquired, trying not to look highly interested and amused. He settled for looking curious.
"It was just a broom!" Fawcett burst out, angrily. "It was just a broom made for riding and perhaps other things, but not for eating people!"
"A people eating broom?"
"One of my…admirers heard that I lost my broom last year and hadn't had a chance to replace it so she sent me another one in the post," Potter explained, eyeing Fawcett carefully. "But apparently it was bewitched to bring me straight to her. However the charm was poorly cast and it backfired. It started chasing Miss Fawcett around and er—"
"Took a chunk out of my arm, it did!" Fawcett raised the sleeve of her robes to show a shining white scar from a newly, yet roughly, healed wound. "I couldn't heal it completely because it was Dark Magic, now I have this ugly scar. No offense, Potter." Harry raised an eyebrow, his own scar catching Leopold's attention. He saw Leopold eyeing his forehead and flattened his hair down over it.
"None taken, I suppose," Harry muttered. Leopold wasn't sure if Fawcett heard or not. She was busy frowning down at the scar that stood out vividly against her angry red skin. The more she picked at it, the redder it became.
"There, there, Samantha," Leopold said sweetly, taking Fawcett's hand and gently rubbing the scar. "It's not so bad. Consider it a battle wound."
"From a cursed broom?"
"No one will have to know it was from a broom. Say it was a rogue vampire. You were single handedly defending an orphanage from an escaped troll. You're an Auror, my dear, people will believe whatever you tell them." Fawcett's upset frown slowly turned into a meek smile. "That's better. See, it's less noticeable already." Leopold was suddenly aware that Harry was watching him closely and he instinctively pulled Fawcett closer to him.
"I guess you're right, Ackerley," Fawcett said quietly. She clasped her hand over Leopold's. "You know, I never noticed how blue your eyes are."
"I try to hide it, you see. Their alacrity can be startling to some." Fawcett giggled almost girlishly. Leopold never had any interest in Samantha Fawcett, nor did he find her particularly attractive. She wasn't fiery and defiant or blond and bold. However, for some reason he couldn't stop himself from shamelessly flirting with her, especially with Harry Potter watching them with that unreadable expression on his face.
"Come to the Leaky with me after work. I'll buy you a drink." Leopold sighed and shook his head.
"I'm sorry, my dear, but I have a prior engagement. Can it wait for a few months?"
"Months? What could you possibly be doing for so long?"
"The same thing he usually does; absolutely nothing." Both Leopold and Fawcett looked over at Harry as though they had forgotten he was there. Leo didn't know about Fawcett, but he had been fully aware of Potter's presence during their entire exchange. Leopold couldn't quite say why he was getting such a savage pleasure out of making Potter as uncomfortable as humanly possible. Perhaps Leo had been hanging out with Shacklebolt too much.
"I don't believe you know me well enough to say such a thing, Potter. Didn't anyone ever teach you to respect your superiors?"
"I must have missed that lesson, sorry." Leopold turned back to Fawcett.
"I pity you, Fawcett. He's insufferable." Samantha laughed, letting go of Leopold and brushing down the sleeve of her robes. She straightened up, returning to her usual professionalism. Potter was glaring at them, hands once again shoved into his pockets.
"Well, I'm sure Potter and I will get on fine, as long as he doesn't receive any more cursed transportation. He can't be all bad if he can see how lazy you are at first glance."
"I resent that entirely, but I'll allow it as long as you stay beautiful." Fawcett smirked, shaking her head.
"Come on, Potter. We have to go fill out a report, then we have patrol duty at Azkaban."
"Don't get lost in Azkaban, Potter. There are quite a few lonely wizards there, if you know what I mean."
"I don't, but I ask Merlin not to have you explain it further. The sound of your voice is becoming hardly distinguishable from a harpy's." Fawcett snorted and Leopold regretted flirting with her. She obviously had a horrible sense of humor and Leopold just could not be with someone who had no idea of what was funny and what wasn't. He watched them walk away, resisting the urge to throw a Bat-Bogey Hex at Potter's back.
"Ooh, he hates you," the amused voice of Davies said from behind Leopold. Leopold raised his gaze to the dust covered heavens, still waiting for the answer for what he did to deserve this. "He AKed you with his eyes!"
"Well, I'm not too fond of him either," Leo replied, grabbing the cup of coffee Davies was offering him. Davies smirked, taking a large gulp from his mug.
"The whole world knows that. But who knew Harry Potter had the capacity to hate so strongly? Maybe you're the first. You should be honored, you might go down in the history books for this."
"I pray that isn't the highlight of my life."
"The way you're going, maybe you should pray that it is."
"Watch this, Davies. I'm AKing you with my eyes."