Chapter 8- Auror Extraordinaire
Author's note: Be patient, more H&Hr is on the way and I promise Hermione will keep her word in regards to the Quidditch match mentioned in this chapter :) Enjoy!
Dedication: This is for J, Happy Birthday! :)
After spending a glorious night wrapped up in Hermione's fireside chair, Apollo left the flat bright and early the next morning with a brand new letter in tow. Harry rushed back home and flew straight through his bedroom window before transfiguring back into himself and then proceed to read the letter he'd just received from Hermione.
Dearest Harry,
It was so good to hear back from you. I am extremely pleased about Remus and Athena. It is so nice to know that happily ever after doesn't only exist in fairy tales. Be sure to send them my best, as well as to Sirius and Rosmerta.
I know that Ron has told you that he is expected to break the Quidditch Keeper record or something at a game tonight. He's also told me that you won't be able to go, but asked if I'd attend. He said we don't have to speak or anything, but thought it would be nice if I could cheer him on from the stands. Since we've already had two "chance" meetings, I thought it'd only be fair if I went to see him play, especially since you won't be there.
"Two chance meetings?" He said aloud, "What does she mean two?"
I hope that you had a fabulous birthday and that you will write back soon. Good luck with Auror Training, although I am sure you won't need it.
All my love,
Hermione
P.S. Nice try with the owl- I'd recognize those green eyes anywhere.
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"There he is now," Mad Eye Moody's rough and boisterous voice called out to Harry as he walked through the fourth floor corridor of the Ministry of Magic. "Auror Extraordinaire, Harry Potter!"
"'Lo, Sir!" Harry said as he shook Moody's shaking hand.
Ever since Harry's fourth year, Mad Eye had acted even more "mad" than usual. He was scheduled to become Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, but was kidnapped and impersonated by Barty Crouch, a loyal servant to Lord Voldemort who hatched the plan to bring the Dark Lord back to power. The real Mad Eye was held captive in his own trunk for nine months. Even though he'd devoted his entire life before that ordeal to ridding the world of Death Eaters, he became even more obsessed after he was held hostage and Voldemort was revived. There were only two people he truly trusted. One was Dumbledore, and the other way Harry. However, Harry got the feeling that the only reason that he was trusted was because he was had Dumbledore's word backing him.
"I've been waiting years for this, Potter." Moody replied as a crazed look appeared over his face, and his magic eye roamed around rapidly. "Dumbledore says you're going to be the best thing to ever happen to the work of aurors. I have my doubts, but I know Albus has faith in you. Hell, that scar of yours is legendary, bought time you lived up to it."
"I intend to, Sir." Harry answered with complete confidence in his abilities.
"Good," Moody nodded, "I guess you're ready to start then?"
A wide grin spread across Harry's face.
"I was born ready."
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Auror training was a lot more grueling than Harry had anticipated. The morning started out with written tests that consisted of scenarios that one might face when battling dark forces. This had been the easiest part for Harry, taking avout an hour to complete. Hemanaged to score well above average, impressing both Mad Eye Moody, and the Director of Intellegence in the Auror training program, Conan Cassidy.
His next session was an obstacle course lined with Dementors and other dark creatures. Harry's goal was to successfully disarm and apprehend them in the shortest amount of time possible without being attacked first. While he sustained a few scrapes and bruises, he still received high marks for finishing at just under seventeen and a half minutes, nearly tying Moody's fifty year old record.
The third and final challenge for the morning was a simulated battle against Lord Voldemort. With the Virtualus Realm spell, the young Wizard was transported to a dark and deserted hilltop where the Dark Lord waited a few feet in front of him, armed and ready to attack. Moody had warned Harry not to be an overachiever, there wasn't one Auror, including himself, who'd ever been able to defeat the simulation. After nearly two hours of spell dueling, which included three near misses of the Cruciatus Curse, a block of the Imperious, and one close encounter with Avada Kedavra, Harry sucessfully destroyed Voldemort.
"Bloody Hell, Potter!" Mad Eye Moody exclaimed in a rather shocked tone as Harry came back from the influence of the Virtualus spell, "No one's ever lasted so long with that no good bastard, let alone been able to kill him! I might just have to pay up on that ten galleon bet I placed against you with Dumbledore."
Harry smiled in between heavy breaths as he wiped the sweat from his brow and tucked his wand back into his robes.
"Thank you, Sir," He answered in a quiet and tired tone, "I'm only sorry it wasn't the real thing."
"Aren't we all." He replied as he handed Harry a glass of water and then pulled his flask from his hip to take a drink of his own. "I think you've had enough training for one day, Potter. Why don't you head down to the cafeteria for a bite to eat and then meet me back in my office when you finish. There's some paperwork I need you to fill out and then you can be on your way."
Harry nodded, extremely famished from a morning of intense training, he headed for lunch, completely unaware of the things he would learn about the current problem plaguing the Ministry of Magic.
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The lunchroom of the Ministry was filled with chatting Witches and Wizards of all shapes and sizes. It reminded him of the feasts at Hogwarts and made him sad that those glorious days would be no more.
"Oh my goodness, it's true then!" A squeaky, high pitched voice called out to Harry. "The Boy Who Lived is here! It's Potter!"
"Bloody hell," he thought to himself as a large group of screaming witches surrounded him. They were like vulchers, begging for his autograph and pulling at his robes. Harry hated all the attention that came with his name, especially this sort if reaction.
"Ladies, control yourselves!" A man's voice called through the crowd, "Mr. Potter is busy defending us from the dark forces, he doesn't have time for all of this nonsense! Honestly, where are your manners!"
Harry looked up to find a tall, dark young man making his way through the masses of adoring witches. He had black hair, slicked backed in a way that reminded him of Draco Malfoy, his archnemesis from Hogwarts, and a toothy grin that made him think of Gilderoy Lockhart, his conceited pretty boy Defense Against the Dark Arts Teacher from second year.
"Tomas R. Zamba, Mr. Potter." He said as he surveyed the crowd of onlooking witches and flashed them a wink. "Co-Director of Muggle Information, originally from Majorca. Graduated from Escuela de la Magia. You can call me Tom."
"Nice to meet you." Harry answered as he extended his hand, "I'm an Auror in training, graduated from Hogwa-"
"Fascinating." Tomas said with an unamused expression, ignoring Harry's gesture to shake hands. "Anyway, why don't you let me take these pestering ladies out of your way? I know after this morning the last thing you need is a group of squealing fans interrupting your lunch, but I'd be happy to entertain them for you. Adios!"
And with that, Tomas Zamba and his newly acquired legion of fans made their way over to a lunch table as Harry watched in amazement at how quickly he'd gone from the Boy Who Lived to the Who that what?
"I see you've met, Mr. Charisma." A bitter tone scoffed from behind him.
"You mean Zamba?" Harry said with a laugh as he turned to find a burly, auburned haired man standing next to him, "I didn't know Playboy was in the job description for Co-Director of Muggle Information."
"Neither did I, but keep in mind that he was hired by a female."
"That explains a lot then." He laughed, "I'm Harry, by the way, Harry-"
"Potter, yea I know. We all know. I think it's why Tom's so threatened. I'm Edgar Duncan Motlive, the other Co-Director of Muggle Information, but please, call me Ed."
"Pleased to meet you, Ed, and my sincere condolences for having to work with Mr. Witch Weekly."
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"So, how long have been working here?" Harry asked as he sipped his pumpkin juice and took a bite of corned beef sandwich.
"About two years now. I like it a lot, studying muggles is very interesting, just wish I didn't have to do it with that incompetent git." Ed replied as he helped himself to a spoonful of treacle fudge.
"Do you have a lot of work?"
"When I first started things were slow, but it's picked up in the last few months, ya know, with all the *chatter*."
"Chatter?" Harry asked.
"You-know-who and his followers." Ed whispered as he leaned in closer to Harry, making sure that no one around was eavesdropping. "Rumor has it his biding his time for a big comeback, and they think he's got a deatheater embedded in this place to supply him with knowledge."
Harry felt a shiver run through his body as Ed spoke.
"But what about Moody? Can't he spot the Death Eaters a mile away?"
"Mad Eye ain't what he used to be," Ed replied with a sigh, "I think that's why they are stepping up the process with you, Potter."
"Yes, but don't they have any idea at all as to who it might be?"
"Oh they have someone in mind all right, but I think they've got it all wrong."
"Who are they thinking of?" Harry asked curiously.
"Mark Ciaran," Ed replied, once again speaking in a soft tone to avoid attention. "He works in the Muggle History department. He's quiet and shy, I heard them say he reminds them of Quirrell. Real shy and anxious, an easy target for Voldemort to prey on. I don't know him well, but he seems harmless and to be honest with you, I don't think he has the brains."
"Who do you think it is then?"
"Me? I'd bet a thousand galleons on our old pal, Tom Zamba."
"Are you kidding?" Harry said in disbelief. "You think this Ciaran character is too stupid to be the informant but you believe that dimwitted pretty boy is the culprit?"
"Go ahead and laugh, but looks are deceiving, Potter." Ed replied in a somber tone. "It's what's in a name that tells you everything."
"What do you mean by that?"
"I mean," Ed answered as he once again moved in close to Harry. "People can't even say you-know-who's name, but do you know of anyone that cringes at the sound of Tom Riddle?"
"I don't understand." Harry responded in a very confused tone. "What does Tom Riddle have to do with Tom Zo-"
And then, like a ton of bricks, it hit him.
"Not just Tom Zomba." Ed reminded Harry as he watched the realization slowly creep over his face, "Tom *R.* Zomba."