Unofficial Portkey Archive

A/N: Another update! Hopefully you guys are enjoying it, because I haven't heard from too many of you guys. Thanks to you guys who have, especially AStatine and EmmaRadcliffe for reviewing regularly. I really do appreciate them. Also, in case I haven't mentioned already, I have a large arsenal of chapters saved up, so these frequent updates will be regular for a while. However, it did take me a while to save up such a large amount, so I'll give you a warning when the updates will slow.

Anyway, please enjoy and tell me what you think. Next chapter, Hermione gives Harry a special gift for his birthday. An entirely innocent gift, mind you. Just in case some of you, like my dirty-minded beta, jump to some other conclusion.

Chapter 18: Scrutiny

Harry sat restlessly, fidgeting nervously with the sleeves of his robes. He glanced about at the other young wizards sitting around the room in the Auror office. A thin mousy wizard paced constantly around the room, silently talking to himself in a very concentrated fashion. Another stout dark-haired man sat rigidly in his seat, patting his hand against his leg. One other wizard sat across the room from Harry, though he appeared more-or-less at ease. He seemed to be about the same height as Harry, but a bit more sturdy in build and with thick blond hair slicked back over his head.

Harry attempted to flatten his own hair, against his better judgment - he knew it was a losing battle.

All four men's eyes shot towards the door as a petite brunette witch opened it. She smiled warmly at the wizards before consulting a clip board she held against her chest.

"Hmm. Jeffrey Hannigan?"

The dark-haired wizard stood up quickly and crossed the room in large strides, as if he were worried the young receptionist would slam the door in his face if he didn't get to her in time. She closed the door and the mousy guy continued his pacing with renewed vigor.

Harry sank back into his chair a bit more comfortably and took a breath. He then noticed the blonde man staring at him, his brow furrowed. Harry picked up a magazine sitting on a table next to him and perused it with faux interest, hoping the man would look away.

Of course, instead the man stood up, crossed the room and sank into the chair next to Harry's.

"John Mitchell," he said, proffering his hand to Harry. "I usually go by Mitch, though."

"How's it going?" Harry replied, clasping Mitch's hand. He was reluctant to give out his name to potential competition. However, he also noted that Mitch appeared to have an American accent - maybe he wouldn't recognize the name anyway.

Mitch smiled, sensing the unwillingness, and withdrew his hand. "I'm assuming you're here to get into training?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah. You too?"

"Yep. I just hate all of this interview bullshit. They'd be better off throwing us together and letting us duke it out. Being able to spout off credentials and spells and other crap won't get you anywhere if you can't really use them in tough situations."

Harry could practically feel the glare from the pacing wizard boring into the side of his head. So that's why he'd been talking to himself.

"I guess I have to agree with you a bit there," Harry said. "It's just going to get a lot of people killed if you freeze under pressure."

"Right."

"So you think you'll get in?" Harry asked.

"Pretty sure. My dad was Head Auror for the American Agency," Mitch said.

"What brings you over here?"

"I wanted to make my mark somewhere else, and Britain seemed to be a pretty good place to do some dark-wizard-catching." He then flashed Harry a somewhat bashful grin. "And the fact that my girlfriend lives here was a bit of a plus as well."

"So the truth comes out," Harry said jokingly, grinning as well.

The young receptionist suddenly entered the room once more. Jeffrey Hannigan stepped out and immediately began his trek to the Atrium, a look of pure relief on his face. The witch checked her clipboard, and Harry watched as her eyes widened a little. She composed her face as well as she could as she spoke his name:

"H-Harry Potter?"

Harry stood up and brushed his way past the thin wizard who now stood rooted to the spot and looked rather angry at the loss of an impartial competition. No doubt the conqueror of the wizarding world's greatest threat would get the job.

"How are you doing, Mr. Potter?" said the brunette witch with forced calmness as she shut the door. She was positively shaking as she observed Harry with a wide smile.

Harry responded in a similarly polite manner. "I'm doing fine, Ms….?"

The woman smiled even wider, though Harry had not thought this possible. "Oh! Melanie! You can call me Melanie!" she said excitedly.

Harry's reply was smothered by a loud voice coming from the room down the hallway. "Melanie! I don't pay you to stand around all day! Do I have another interview or not?!" the voice barked.

Melanie jumped slightly and scurried down the hallway, pushing Harry along as she went.

"Yes, Mr. Wahler!" she called ahead of her. Just before Harry was shoved through the door, she halted him abruptly and opened the door rather timidly. He walked in slowly behind her and stood by the threshold as she placed a few papers on an already cluttered desk before a slender man with iron-gray hair.

Melanie quickly retreated as soon as the papers had left her grasp and left the room. "Good luck!" she whispered, and the door shut with a rather ominous click.

Harry stepped forward nervously as Mr. Wahler perused what he could only assume was his application. He perched himself stiffly upon the edge of the chair in front of Wahler's desk and glanced around.

The room was rather blandly decorated - a single picture adorned the neutral toned walls and the only furniture consisted of the chairs and desk he and the Head Auror occupied. The only part of the room that was crowded was a bookcase near the door that was overflowing with all sorts of textbooks - Defense, Potions, Charms, Transfiguration - really anything that could aid a dark wizard catcher in any manner. Harry also noted a name card sitting among the disarray of reports and cases which revealed that Wahler's first name was Alec.

Wahler suddenly made a small, slightly interested noise as he observed Harry's résumé. Dark eyes flashed upwards to study the young wizard.

"Mr.…Potter," the man said slowly. Harry noted the gravelly tone of his voice and was suddenly drawn to an ugly scar that stretched across his neck.

Harry offered his hand just as Mitch had done to him. "Mr. Wahler," he intoned back as Alec gripped his hand in a strong handshake. He couldn't help but feel slightly inept before this obvious veteran.

Something about Wahler intrigued him. Harry hadn't been in the room for three minutes and he already held a complete respect for the man. Alec wasn't the biggest or strongest out there, but his demeanor suggested he was an exceptionally tough and competent Auror. Kingsley had obviously picked an excellent candidate to replace him as the head of the department.

Wahler gave Harry a thin-lipped smile as he withdrew his hand. "I can't say I'm too surprised to see you here, Mr. Potter."

Harry nodded in acknowledgement. Survived the Killing Curse as an infant, exceptionally talented in Defense Against the Dark Arts, and vanquisher of the darkest wizard ever known. Of course Wahler wasn't surprised to see Harry in an Auror's office.

Wahler stood up suddenly and walked around his desk. He gave Harry a hard look before passing him to stand in front of the bookcase. Their backs were to each other, and Harry fought the urge to turn, instead choosing to stare blankly at the chair Wahler had just occupied.

Silence reigned in the room for several minutes, the only sound coming from Harry's watch. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic… The quiet was unnerving, but Harry refused to let the tactic faze him. Or at least Harry refused to let Wahler know it fazed him.

Finally, Harry heard movement from behind him; it sounded as though Wahler had begun pacing. Alec's next words came as slowly and deliberately as the rate he walked.

"What are you doing here, Potter?"

Harry furrowed his brow, still facing the empty chair. "I'm here to interview for a job, sir."

A hollow laugh met this response.

"Do you honestly think I have any other choice but to hire you?"

Harry suddenly felt cold, and he stood up from his chair to face Wahler.

"I don't know what to think, Mr. Wahler," Harry said. "I came here for just the reason I told you - to interview for a job. I didn't come here expecting handouts because of who I am or what I've done."

"Well, that isn't possible," Wahler replied gruffly. "You can't change your identity or your past, and sometimes handouts are given even if they're unwanted."

Harry took a few moments to reply.

"I expect to be treated the same as any other wizard or witch that has applied for this position. And if you're not willing to do that, I'll just find a different job."

The young wizard and veteran stood facing each other, glaring into one another's faces. Harry imagined he was about to be thrown out of the office when a cold smile suddenly appeared on Wahler's face. The wizard circled back around and sat in his chair with an air of satisfaction.

"That'll be all, Potter."

Harry's heart sank, but he nodded resolutely nonetheless and gripped the brass door handle to exit the room, all hopes of his dream career gone in a matter of minutes.

"You start on Monday."

Harry paused, his hand still on the doorknob, and turned his head to look at Wahler, who still wore a small smirk.

"Sir?" Harry said, unsure if he had heard him right.

"Monday. Eight o'clock. Be here," Wahler said.

"Really?"

"As I said, I really don't have any choice but to hire you, even if I didn't want to," Wahler said. "Which I do. I know you'll make a damn good Auror. Hell, you're a damn good Auror already." There was that smile again. "But, as you said, you expect to be treated like everyone else, and I am more than happy to comply. That's why you need to be here on Monday. That's when training begins."

Harry felt light-headed with relief. "Yes, sir. I'll definitely be here."

***************

When Harry arrived back at Grimmauld Place, he noted without surprise that Hermione's jacket was hanging from the coat rack within the entrance hall. He immediately began walking upstairs, where he was fairly certain he would find her in the library.

Hermione had been living with her parents for the past few weeks, but she often divided her time between Harry's and the Burrow. In the meantime she had grown quite fond of the expansive, well-stocked, and now clean ancestral library of Sirius' family.

He was not disappointed, of course. Hermione lay curled up in one of the chairs within the reading room, skimming through the print of a large history book. When she heard Harry enter, she promptly shut her book and straightened within her chair.

"So? How'd it go?" Hermione asked.

Harry smiled, and came to sit on the arm of Hermione's chair. "Well, technically I found it one of the most nerve-racking experiences of my life. But I got the job if that's what you're asking."

"That's fantastic, Harry!" Hermione said, hugging him the best she could from their positions on the chair. "When do you start?"

"Training starts Monday."

"Really? That soon? Well, I know you'll do great," Hermione said, rubbing Harry's arm.

"Thanks. Let's hope so."

"There's really nothing to hope for. You did defeat Voldemort, after all. If anything, you're probably over-qualified," Hermione laughed.

Harry rolled his eyes but smiled nonetheless. "Being a good duelist is different from being a good Auror. I would never have gotten close to defeating Voldemort if it hadn't been for you."

Hermione blushed. "Don't be so modest. I know you could've done it on your own."

"Yeah, maybe in about fifty or so years."

"I really don't think you give yourself enough credit," Hermione admonished.

"I could say the same to you," Harry replied.

"Hardly."

"Come on!" Harry said. "You're absolutely brilliant and you don't even own up to it."

"It's hard to own up to something that you don't own," Hermione stated with an embarrassed air. "As you said, being a good duelist is different from being a good Auror; well, being good at schoolwork doesn't constitute brilliance."

"Well, you are brilliant."

"And I think you're a good Auror."

"Fine," Harry conceded, putting his hands up in defeat. "Let's just say we're both amazingly fantastic and call it a day."

Hermione placed her chin between her thumb and forefinger in pretend thought. "I suppose that could work," she said with a smile.

"It's settled then," Harry said, smiling back. They held each other's gaze for a moment, then the doorbell suddenly rang from downstairs. Hermione shook her head and Harry rose from the chair.

When he had stepped into the hallway, Ginny's voice immediately wafted from the entrance hall. "Harry? Are you here?"

"Up here, Gin," Harry called back. He waited a few moments for Ginny to ascend the flight of stairs.

Ginny gave him a quick peck on the cheek before flouncing into the library. She paused when she saw Hermione.

"Oh, hey Hermione," Ginny said. "What brings you here?" The red-head's ice-tinged tone hinted at the slight animosity she still felt towards Hermione over the two-day disappearing act with her boyfriend.

"I just came by to pick up a book," Hermione lied, holding up the history book as proof. "Then I remembered Harry's interview was today, so I waited around for a little while until he got back." All true technically-just in reverse order. The real reason was Harry; the real excuse was the book.

Ginny didn't quite appear to buy this statement, but she dismissed it nonetheless, to Hermione's relief. However, she thought it best to make a hasty retreat in case Ginny rethought her original judgment.

"I was about to leave, anyway." She quickly stooped and picked up her bag, slinging it across her shoulder as she avoided Harry's questioning gaze. "Congratulations, Harry," she said as she brushed between him and Ginny, and left the room at a brisk walk, only slowing her pace when she had distanced herself from the stifling house.

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