Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JKR. But you knew that already.
Wonder if they'd allow me to skip classes tomorrow if I said I have acute motion sickness. Everything's just whooshing past me, it's mad. Like I went on half a dozen end to end trips on the Eurostar. I don't even have time to write anymore.
I've been here for almost two months now, and the chattering throng that was the student population of the Auror Tower has been reduced to a collection of vaguely human splotches of obedience. Some of them, at least. Those that didn't become Yes-People turned into harpies. They snapped at everyone who isn't an instructor and glared at everything else.
This started on the Monday right after the Portus orientation. That weekend, I braced myself for a week of bullying, pity, or both. Scorpius might not have as much clout in the Tower as he did at Hogwarts, but the name Malfoy still rings lots of gilded bells. Training partner or not, I shouted at him. I still have profound memories of what happened to people who antagonized him in school, and I was prepared for the worst week his money could buy.
Instead, Monday came and went. The hours just zipped past. Every blessed weekday, from six in the morning to six in the evening, all I had was a blur of drills, exercises, duels, lectures, and tests.
No one flinched at the amount of work. It costs energy, which cannot be spent on some frivolous, irrelevant exercise. Like flinching. During Resocialization, Scorpius and I hardly talked. We worked on the obstacle courses, stood side by side during Marksmanship, and even participated in Portus duels, but that was all. Our lecture classes have no common periods.
"It's done, it's irreversible," I said wanly to Agnes, who was poking at the remains of her waffles.
"What are you talking about?" she said, stifling a yawn. She reached for her glass of orange juice.
"Scorpius. The thing about us being just training partners. I realize that it's hurtful, and I gave him space during the first week. But it's been over a month, this is absurd."
Agnes sighed, setting her fork down. "I keep telling you. If you really want things to be okay between you, whatever that means, just apologize to him."
We stood up, cleared our table of our plates and glasses, and left for Shacklebolt's class. "I tried, okay. And he accepted. But I don't know; I feel like we're not talking like we used to—like there's—"
I mimed ramming against a wall several times.
"Well, didn't you want that to happen? For him to just leave you alone?" Agnes said.
The bell rang, and I was spared a reply. Shacklebolt was already in the practice court, directing some of our fellow initiates into groups. Several copies of Flintlock were all around the room—they were poised above parchment, ready to take notes.
Our instructor saw us enter. "Over here," he said, pointing at an already assembled circle to his left. We joined Lionel, Connor, Lorcan, and—surprise, surprise—Scorpius. I stood beside him and offered a smile, my insides churning. He briefly nodded, turning back to Shacklebolt, and the churning was replaced by a leaden feeling. I couldn't look at Agnes in the eye.
"For the past few weeks, you have been working on various spell casting drills," Shacklebolt began once everyone got settled. I looked at my partner, who was staring straight ahead.
"—your enemies won't be lined up, ready to receive your hits—"
He moved a hand through his messy blond hair.
"—not all aggressors, some are civilians—"
His chest rose and fell with a slowness my heartbeat couldn't relate with at that moment.
"—why Concealment and Disguise is required next semester—"
He probably sensed I was gaping and turned to me. His eyes seemed to ask, what? But my throat choked back anything I thought of saying. I settled for seeing how long I could get him to stare.
This could work, Rose. You've read it in mum's books—people do it all the time so they'll learn how to get over irrational fears. Just get used to those impossibly gray eyes and that rumpled blond hair and the memory of what is definitely underneath those robes. You can do it. No need to get your knickers all knotted up. Just stare at him and feel the physical attraction melt away.
Oh, bloody brilliant. Way to show cooperation, glands.
Maybe it's too much, too soon. I'd be better off staring at his fingernails for an entire week, and then moving to other parts of his anatomy.
Heh. Other parts. Heh heh.
"—know the difference. Be attentive. Isn't that right, Weasley and Malfoy?"
Scorpius said "Yes, absolutely," the same time I said "Correct, sir," and Shacklebolt's eyebrows shot up. He kept his eyes on us when he resumed talking. I can feel my ears turning bright red.
"You will be working in groups for the second phase of training. Take turns wearing these," he said, holding up a few sheets of dark cloth. Lionel stepped forward to collect our cloth, as did members of the other groups.
"As you wear this, your fellow trainees will arrange themselves into a scene. There may be hostiles, or friendlies, or both—it's up to them. What matters is that they're in place when I lift the blindfold, and that you react to the scenario before you. Flintlock will deduct points for incorrect reactions."
He passed around some fake wands, one for each person. "Each group starts with 100 points. The group with the least points at the end of the exercise will be penalized. People who bring out their real wands will likewise be penalized. I will not have half of you sporting holes where you shouldn't and the other half carted away to Azkaban."
For a few seconds, we all just sort of stared at the cloth in Lionel's hand, and then I heard Connor say, "I'll go first." Agnes tied the blindfold over his eyes and I led him away from the group. All around the room, people were finding ways to keep their "It" from hearing. Shacklebolt summoned an hourglass, and with a wave of his hand, sent the sand trickling down.
"Right, then, how will we do this?" Agnes said once I got back, her hands on her hips.
"We'll be doing a mixed scene, of course," said Lionel. "But who'd be hostile and who'd be friendly?"
"I think I have a plan," Scorpius said slowly. "Lionel and Agnes, you can be the attackers. You stand on opposite sides to Connor. Lorcan and I'll be friendlies, but we'll mostly get in the way. Rose," he stopped and looked at me thoughtfully. Oh, goody, an excuse to stare at him.
"You'll be a Muggle," he said.
"What do you mean by that, exactly?"
"Nothing! What the hell, Weasley?"
Half my relatives are Muggles, but I don't want to play one in a scene where spells, even fake ones, are flying around. I kind of feel helpless, and this bogus wand isn't helping. I pointed it at him and tried to look as threatening as I could.
"Think only Purebloods should play wizards don't you," I said.
"Weasley, hang on! Merlin! I thought you'd be good at acting like a Muggle because—well, because you know. But I don't mean that in an offensive way. This is really confusing," he said in one breath.
I glowered before I left them to get Connor. Barely seconds after I positioned myself between him and the rest of the group, the blindfold flew off.
I ducked. Well, ducked and ran away, more like. What was I supposed to do, pull out my gun and get hit by an Unforgivable Curse? That's what most Muggles get when they meddle. Dad told me.
My ears were ringing with the shouts from the different groups. I looked at Connor. He was doing an alright job, I think; he managed to keep Anges and Lionel on one side, and he was "instructing" Scorpius to heal Lorcan, keep his head down and contact other members of magical law enforcement. A series of flares erupted from one side of the room, and we all stopped, looking at Shacklebolt. He was as impassive as ever. I went back to the group—they were congratulating Connor for his work. I patted him on the back and tried not to look at Scorpius.
"I'll be next," said Lorcan. Once he was out of earshot, Agnes sprang into action.
"We'll do a mixed scenario. Lionel, Connor and I will be hostile. Scorpius and Rose, you'll be friendlies on a date." I swear I saw a malicious glint in Agnes' eyes.
"A date? We would never be on any sort of date," I said.
"Like I'd want to date self-absorbed fire trees," Scorpius said irritably. Agnes raised an eyebrow.
"First of all, Lorcan's weakness is seeing romance. He's sappy like that. Second, it's no big deal for training partners, right?"
I am going to murder her in her sleep.
"Come up to him, ask how he's doing. Have your backs to us. It'll help if you're very sweet to each other," she added, winking at me.
Murder with a teaspoon.
When Connor led Lorcan back to the group, Agnes and Lionel took their place a few paces behind Scorpius and I. He was keeping a respectful distance between us, which I might find proper in other situations, but we don't need that right now.
"Malfoy, you have to hold Rose's hand or something. We need appropriate responses," Connor whispered as he hurried past us. If I could just capture the look of horror on Scorpius' face. On the one hand, am I that repulsive to him? Didn't he try to kiss me once? On the other hand, his "I'm doomed" face is just so funny. Either way, he's not coming closer. Oh, well. Some things you have to do yourself.
Lorcan's blindfold was lifted off, and I snatched Scorpius' hand, twining my fingers around his. An incredibly baffled expression settled upon Lorcan's face, and decided it would be a good spot for afternoon tea.
"Lorcan, how are you? How many years has it been since Hogwarts?" I said, leaning my head on Scorpius' shoulder. A smile replaced Lorcan's confused look.
"Quite a bit, Rose. Hello Malfoy," he said. Scorpius nodded like his neck was made of cinderblocks.
"Well, W—Rose and I are house hunting in your area." Scorpius hugged my waist, pulling me close.
Why are you like this, glands?
Lorcan's smile grew wider and rattled off what could only be names of streets in his neighborhood. If it weren't for the points, I would've reminded him that Scorpius and I weren't really together, and that he should cut down on the enthusiasm. Thankfully, Agnes decided it was a good time to start firing, because I heard them shout behind us. Scorpius pulled me to one side, Lorcan snapped back into Auror mode, and we tried to duel with our three other group mates.
Once the flares shot across the court, Lorcan shook his head. "That was Agnes' work, wasn't it?" he said.
"Oh, yes, it was entirely her idea," I said, jerking my thumb at my roommate. Everyone laughed.
For Agnes, we were all friendlies, but she panicked and misfired at Lorcan. Lionel received all hostiles, and he was superb, I think. He took at least half of us before someone hit him with a fully incapacitating curse. I also got hostiles, and I managed to hit three of them too, but only because I lucked out on Connor catching the spell intended for Lorcan.
Scorpius got friendlies, and it took all of my strength to not stick my fake wand up his nose. When the blindfold was whipped off, and he got a good look at us, he smirked.
"What a happy day this is," he drawled. "Well, I hope you're all alright," he added. He doffed an imaginary hat at us in goodbye and walked to a far side of the court to watch the other groups.
"Is 'what a jerk' an appropriate response to a jerk?" I asked Agnes, who just shook her head and smiled.
"Well, he didn't really have to stick around, he has a point," she said mildly.
The last of the flares erupted, and we made our way back to Shacklebolt.
"The trainees with the least points are—" our instructor pointed at a group including Bea Farley. "Flintlock recorded a total of 53 points for your group. The rest of you may leave."
I'm just glad I won't find out what the penalty is for losing today. As I followed the rest of the trainees out, my mind sifted through the events like a highlights reel for football.
I didn't do so badly, I think. Could've been better.
But I really need to get over this infatuation with Scorpius. I can't imagine a law enforcer who can be turned by a single glance—or a smile—or the feeling of her crush's arms around her waist—
I really, really need to get over this. My being an Auror depends on it. But how?
A/N: Hello, thank you so much for reading. I appreciate all of your follows, favorites, and reviews; your support is one of the reasons why I keep at this. I hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as I did writing it.
To clear something up: Ivan Shacklebolt is part of Ministry Security. In my head, this is equivalent to a head of state's security detail. Harry Potter is, at least for this fanfic, still the head of the Aurors. :-)