Law & Chaos: Special Magic Unit (HP Chaos Gacha)

[Ghostcraft19]

"Have at thee!"

Click to shrink...

This is great!

 

[JT'Tales]

There had also been remarks about his robes, his application fee and whether the DMLE needed somebody to sort its post. By the time he reached the part where she'd told a neighbour, his knuckles had turned white around the handle of his wand.

Then don't go home and let her be right," I said. "You might not pass. I might not pass. But you can at least make them kick you out, instead of saving them the trouble and proving your wife right."

Click to shrink...

Step 3: Leave that Harpy, cause goddamn. The first couple of remarks you could almost fool yourself that she's a worried wife poorly showing it by teasing her husband, but by the time it gets to shitting on him to the neighbors who have no business hearing this... yeah she's gotta go.

Don't worry Smidgy, I hear women love a man in uniform.

 

[CircusControl]

"Have at thee!"

Click to shrink...

Beast mode

 

[Yohnos]

Smidgeworth should get a divorce

 

[Poimenikos]

The toxicity just made ME want ask a lawyer for my options and I am happily married.
God. You cant chose the family you re born into. Nor your co-workers most of the time. You need a job. Even your kids are as they come. But your spouse you chose. And there is nothing worse than having the one person in your life, the only person in your existence that YOU chose to spend your years together not respect you. It eats you slowly like cancer.
Imagine. Being a magician. A minor reality wraper. And you still can have a miserable family life

 

[FTR2017]

I really love the way you've restricted the use of the Gacha to reasonable things, and I am really looking forward to what comes next with these 'coppers'.

Especially with the protagonist leaning on his transfiguration plus dispelling and magic blade thingy to help him along.

On a side thought: Will we be seeing some Pratchett shout-outs from his Guards stories?

 

[aokway]

I still would have preferred something a bit more… cop-like.

Click to shrink...

There is nothing more cop like than beaurocarcy

It would probably be useful on most working days,

Click to shrink...

I could probably find a use for it.

Click to shrink...

My brother in Christ
Over 70% of your job is management and math
On most days that number is over 90%
By week 4 your gonna be kissing that book forgiveness

No spells on the interviewee

Click to shrink...

Just spells then?
Cause
If we can get him to sign a contract about giving his wand back in a way we choose in exchange for some information then we can let him know what sounding is before very slowly going to shove his own wand up his urethra
I know not why
But I'm quite sure he'll start saying what we want to know by the time we start pulling his underwear down
I mean
He signed the contract~
And were legally required to abide by our side of the ~deal~
Though of course new information would come first to handing off what the deal is for due to importance so anything else he says would delay and potentially make us need to "reconvene" due to the expanded information given

Guess you didn't have the easiest time at school."

"Parents can be cruel."

Click to shrink...

Kids are cruel to!

Marchbanks glanced back at me as all of this was my fault all of a sudden.

Click to shrink...

"Interesting"

 

[Donokoni]

I think Will need to pass and be part of the MC group, they also can be the "golden trio" from the Aurors.

 

[Bakkughan]

Chapter Six: The Duel​

​

---

Waiting by myself was worse.

I had nothing to do with my hands, no one to reassure and no way of finding out whether either of them had passed. Tonks had lasted until the clock ran out. That was promising, though I didn't know whether it would have kept running after she'd been disarmed. Wil had gone in looking prepared to hex somebody, which was either an improvement or something I'd soon be apologising for.

I tried going over my spells. My Shield Charm was better than it had been at school. I could Transfigure things with more confidence now, provided I had time to work out what I was doing. Magic Cutting would deal with ropes and anything else an opponent tried to bind me with. Counterspell Casting had stopped the cursed poker and the fugitive Snitch.

Against an actual person, I still had no idea how well any of that would work.

The time passed slowly enough that I found myself counting along with the second hand, then calculating how many seconds remained. Novice Math supplied the answer immediately. I hadn't needed assistance making the wait feel any longer than it already did, but there it was.

When the clock finally stopped, I stood before Marchbanks had even opened the door.

"Mr. Crawford. Come along."

I followed her into a long duelling chamber with a raised observation gallery along one wall. Several witches and wizards sat behind its railing. Protective magic shimmered faintly across the space in front of them, separating the benches from the floor below.

At ground level, wooden barriers and stone plinths divided the room into uneven lanes. There was enough cover to break somebody's line of sight, provided I could reach it. A pair of Healers waited near a side door with their bags open on a table.

My opponent stood beside the far boundary. He was a lean wizard with close-cropped brown hair and his sleeves fastened back at the wrists. He glanced at the parchment in Marchbanks's hand, then at me.

"Crawford. The Transfiguration resit?"

"Yes."

"Ah. The one without a Defence NEWT." He observed, though I couldn't help but feel as though there was something sneering in the way he said that. "Let's see what you can manage. Auror Renshaw."

He didn't offer to shake hands. I went to the mark Marchbanks indicated, trying not to read too much into that.

"The clock starts on my signal," she told us. "Stop immediately if I call a halt. A clear surrender ends the duel. Mr. Crawford, do you understand?"

"Yes, ma'am."

She walked up the steps into the gallery. Renshaw waited with his wand lowered at his side, looking comfortable enough that I felt foolish for how tightly I was holding mine.

"Begin."

His wand moved before I finished drawing breath.

"Protego!"

The Disarming Charm struck my shield and scattered in a burst of red light. I barely had time to register that I'd stopped it before he sent the next one. I caught that too, though the impact forced me back a step.

"Don't plant your feet," he said.

I moved left. A third spell hit the floor where I'd been standing, and I understood why he'd bothered offering advice.

There was a wooden barrier within reach. I ducked behind it, putting something solid between us while I tried to get my breathing under control. Through a gap beside the support, I could see him walking across the room to change the angle.

I aimed for his legs.

"Locomotor Mortis!"

He deflected it without stopping. The spell struck the back wall, and his next wand movement turned the top rail of my barrier into a length of rope.

It came down around my shoulders.

I pulled away before it could tighten, catching one loop on my forearm. Another curled towards my wand wrist. I cut across it with Magic Cutting, sending a narrow arc through the rope and letting the severed ends fall against my robes.

In my hurry though, I had overpowered it slightly.

'Slightly' in this case meaning I had cut through the ropes… as well as the top half off the barricade, letting it slowly slide off and fall to the floor with a deafening crash.

Renshaw stopped walking.

I got clear of the ruined barrier while he looked at the unnaturally smooth cut. There was no sense waiting to see what he'd do to the rest of it. A stone plinth stood a few yards away; I lengthened its upper edge into a slab as I moved behind it, giving myself enough cover to see over without exposing my chest.

His next spell struck the slab and chipped the corner.

I sent a Stunning Spell back. He shielded, moved and sent two more attacks from different angles quickly enough that I had to abandon the plinth altogether. All of it soundless too.

It quickly became frustrating how often I knew exactly what I'd done wrong only a moment after doing it. Magician might have helped more if Renshaw had been willing to give me the time to learn from my mistakes, but for all that the man looked like he was just taking a leisurely stroll down Diagon Alley, it didn't seem like the Auror was about to let up the pressure.

I kept moving, sometimes shielding, sometimes getting solid cover between us. The new grace from Novice Interfacing made the quick changes in direction easier, especially when Renshaw forced me to move before I was properly balanced.

It didn't stop my legs from tiring however, and it certainly didn't make the spells coming towards me any slower.

Renshaw was still barely breathing hard.

He flicked his wand towards a broken rail. It bent and split lengthways as it rose from the floor, becoming three thick bands that spread out to come at me from both sides like crushing snakes.

I cut through the first and shielded against the second, but the third caught my ankle and pulled tight, dragging my foot out from under me. I came down hard on one knee, but thankfully managed to slash through it before it could pull me any further. I shoved myself away from the severed length as it writhed across the floor.

Renshaw gave me no time to recover. Another Disarming Charm struck my shield before I was properly upright, jolting my wand arm with the impact.

I couldn't keep doing this, I realized. He'd just keep pressuring me with his far greater arsenal until I made a mistake. Not that the realization did anything to improve my current situation though; Renshaw didn't seem in any hurry to provide me with any alternatives.

When he animated the broken bands again, I desperately used a broader cut. It passed through both of them as if they weren't even there and sped across the room.

Renshaw moved, but not quite quickly enough, the sudden counter attack having taken him by surprise. His trouser leg split below the knee, and a thin red line opened along his calf.

He hissed and stepped back. I froze long enough to nearly let a loose binding catch my wrist.

"Sorry! I was aiming for the—"

"Then aim more carefully, you dolt." Renshaw bit out.

He sealed the cut with a sharp movement of his wand. When he looked up again, the casualness had gone out of his face.

I wished I'd simply kept my mouth shut.

The next hex burst against the edge of the plinth hard enough to knock fragments across my cheek. I ducked and raised a shield, only for another spell to strike it before I was properly balanced. My shoulder jarred. The shield held, but I was sent sliding back, my boots scrabbling for purchase.

Renshaw came forward.

There were no more ropes to cut, no more Transfiguration tricks turning the environment against me. The man was going in for the kill. He sent spells at my legs, my wand arm and the narrow spaces I needed to pass through to reach cover. When I tried to return a Stunner, he contemptuously knocked it aside and caught the edge of my left sleeve with something pale green.

My hand clenched so tightly that the nails dug into my palm.

I stumbled, staring at the fist I couldn't open. The muscles along my forearm knotted painfully beneath the skin. I brought my wand across them, reached for Counterspell Casting and felt the jinx break under the pressure.

My fingers opened. Before I could enjoy that, I had to shield again.

The next spell struck hard enough to send a fresh stab of pain through my shoulder. My wand arm jerked sideways, and Renshaw flicked his wrist before I could bring it back.

"Expelliarmus!"

The alder tore out of my fingers. I made a desperate grab for it with my other hand, caught nothing and watched it bounce across the floor before rolling to a stop midway between me and Renshaw.

Almost automatically, I started towards it before remembering the man who had so easily torn it from my hand. Renshaw's wand followed me, and I hurriedly put the pillar between us instead.

"Just yield already, Crawford."

I chanced a quick glance at the large ornate clock overlooking the duelling area.

'A good seven minutes left… which means…' Novice Maths immediately supplied the answer. 'Oh fuckin' Merlin, are you seriously saying I've been getting my shit kicked in for barely five minutes?!'

Some traitorous, tired part of me, the slacking Hufflepuff who hadn't even taken DADA for his final years of Hogwarts because it involved far too much running around and sweating for no good reason, briefly considered taking the man's sneered advice. For the first time since deciding to apply, I seriously considered giving up.

I'd been driven into the corner between the boundary and a tall stone pillar. I could try to get round it, but Renshaw had the angle covered. My shoulder ached, my legs were trembling and my wand was lying somewhere I couldn't reach without losing anyway. There was still far too much time left on the clock.

My right hand closed uselessly around the space where my wand ought to have been. The other was still sore from Renshaw's pale green curse, the muscles aching somewhere between the aftermath of a really intense forearm workout and the worst cramp of my entire life. I'd only got it working again by using Counterspell Casting to break the curse.

But that wasn't the only way Counterspell Casting worked.

I looked past the pillar at Renshaw, then down at my empty hand.

There was no incantation to remember or wand movement to get right. The knowledge was already there; all I needed was one of Renshaw's spells and enough magic to turn it around.

Assuming I could do it without a wand.

I'd been holding mine every time I'd used the ability, but that didn't necessarily mean I needed it. The Grimoire hadn't mentioned one in the description. Novice Math worked perfectly well without a wand. So did Novice Management.

Admittedly, neither of those had ever been asked to stop a curse coming at my face, but I was running out of better ideas.

"Crawford. I can see your feet."

I pulled them further behind the pillar, feeling my face grow hot.

Wandless magic had never featured in any of my plans for getting through the appraisal. It was the sort of thing I'd occasionally seen a professor do, usually while their hands were occupied with something else. After seven years at Hogwarts, I still needed a wand to Summon a forgotten quill from the other side of my bedroom.

I looked towards the alder lying near Renshaw's advancing feet.

Well, I wasn't going to manage it that way now.

The knowledge from Counterspell Casting was still there when I reached for it. Losing my wand hadn't changed that. I could feel how to catch an incoming spell, how to take hold of the magic and turn it back towards its caster. Whether I could actually make it happen with nothing in my hand was something I would apparently have to find out the hard way.

I needed an attack I could see coming. One big one he committed to, instead of a quick jinx followed immediately by another. A spell that would decide the entire match in one go.

"Having trouble?" I called out as I brazenly stepped out from my cover, desperately hoping the Auror wouldn't notice just how heavily I was breathing.

He paused, just long enough for me to wonder whether I'd lost my mind. His eyes moved over my empty hands before returning to my face.

"Trouble? With what?"

"With the kid who just has a Defence OWL. Imagine that. Big scary Auror, can't even knock out someone who dropped his subject in fifth year."

His jaw tightened.

I straightened, resisting the urge to glance towards my wand again. Renshaw knew exactly where it was. He'd put it there himself, and judging by the look on his face, my continued refusal to concede was beginning to seem like a personal insult.

He shifted his weight onto his back foot and swept his wand through a larger movement, pale green light gathering at the tip. I recognised the colour immediately, my left hand cramping up again at the mere sight of it.

'Please let this work.'

I waited until he released it.

The spell came straight at my chest. I threw up my empty right hand and reached for Counterspell Casting, trying to 'catch' it and send it straight back.

For a brief instant, nothing happened.

Then the pressure struck my palm, drove through my arm and shoulder and seemed to settle behind my ribs. I couldn't draw breath. The pale green light buckled in front of my outstretched fingers, close enough to make every crease in my skin stand out.

Renshaw's eyes widened. His gaze caught on my empty hand, and his wand came up sharply as he realised I was actually doing something with it.

I barely had enough attention left to notice. There was far more magic in this curse than in the one he'd used on my hand, and for one horrible moment I thought I'd made it worse by trying to hold onto it.

I put everything I had into the reversal, bracing myself for the curse to break through anyway.

Instead, the green light twisted.

For a fraction of a second it seemed to hang between us, bent sharply around the end of my wand, before to my own surprise, it snapped back the way it had come.

Renshaw hadn't expected it either. His eyes widened and his wand started to come up, but his own curse was already crossing the room. It struck him squarely in the chest.

I didn't even see him fall. My knees hit the floor, my free hand following them as I tried to stop myself pitching forward. There was a rushing noise in my ears as I swallowed against a surge of nausea and forced my eyes back up.

Renshaw was curled up on his side, legs drawn towards his chest. His hands had clenched like mine had, the tendons standing out along his neck as he fought to straighten himself. A strangled cry escaped him when another spasm pulled his shoulders tight.

His wand lay a few feet away. Mine was still lying about halfway between us.

The clock was still running. Nobody had called a halt.

I put one foot beneath me and pushed myself upright, nearly going straight down again. The pillar kept me standing until the room stopped tilting, then I made myself move towards him, one staggering step at a time.

Renshaw was already dragging one hand towards his wand, his spasming fingers opening and closing with the monumental effort by the time I had picked mine up with trembling hands. I gathered enough magic for the narrowest application of Magic Cutting and sent it into the floor beside his head like a bullet.

Stone cracked with a sharp report, and a chip struck his cheek.

He stopped reaching.

I took the last step, sank to a knee beside the downed Auror and placed the tip of my wand against his Adam's apple. Keeping it steady took more effort than I wanted him to see.

"Yield." I croaked, my voice hoarse to my own ears.

His eyes lifted to mine. After a moment, he managed a quick nod, as far as his cramped position allowed at least.

I kept the wand against his throat until I was certain he'd understood. Above us, the viewing gallery had gone completely silent.

"Yield accepted," Marchbanks said at last. "Mr Crawford, step back."

I obeyed. A Healer was beside Renshaw almost immediately, breaking the jinx while the second caught my elbow and guided me towards a chair.

I sat down before anybody could change their mind.

---

The Healer made me drink something bitter, inspected my shoulder and asked whether I could feel all my fingers. I could. I was less certain about my legs, although they improved after a few minutes sitting still. The arm that had been caught in the same curse that had ultimately cost Renshaw the match still felt like pinpricks and needles though, like I had spent all day sitting on it, even after the Healer went over it with a soothing warm light from her wand.

I couldn't imagine how it must feel to have that curse cover your entire body and my eyes flitted to the other side of the room. Renshaw himself was sitting upright with another Healer beside him. He flexed one hand, spoke briefly to Marchbanks and looked away when he noticed me watching. I wasn't sure what I was supposed to do about that. Apologising hadn't helped the first time.

Marchbanks came over once the Healer had finished with my shoulder.

"You're to rest in the changing rooms while we complete our reports. Someone will come for you."

I nodded and stood carefully. My legs held. The Healer still accompanied me through the side door, waited while I found the next bench and told me to keep drinking water.

Tonks looked up as we entered.

"Julian! How did it go?" She got to her feet, then took a better look at me. "Sit down. Wil, move your bag."

I lowered myself onto the cleared space. Wil passed me a cup while Tonks settled beside me, looking at the torn sleeve and the dust on my robes.

"Are you hurt?" she worried.

"Mostly tired. The Healer says I'll be fine." I drank half the water in a single gulp, feeling my completely tanked energy levels slowly begin to stabilize, before asking, "What about you?"

"I lasted. Barely." She leaned back against the lockers with a huff. "Couldn't get a spell near her, so I spent most of it staying behind things. At one point she turned the barrier I was hiding behind into a flock of geese. I thought they were going to have me before she did."

I looked at the scrape across her knuckles. "How did you get away?"

"Made myself small enough to get between two plinths, almost as thin as paper. She had to come round, and the geese couldn't work out where I'd gone." Her grin returned. "The clock went before she caught up. I thought I was going to fall over when they told me to stop, I've never pushed my abilities that far before."

Twelve minutes and thirteen seconds. She'd been doing that while I sat outside trying to talk Wil into entering at all.

"I'm glad you made it," I said honestly.

"So am I. Wil did too, though you wouldn't know it from looking at him."

He sat opposite us with his hands folded round his cup. At the mention of his name, he looked up and gave a hesitant smile.

"I was rather cross when I went in."

"That's putting it mildly." I said with a grin.

"The gentleman told me to begin, and I just... did. Everything I could remember, every spell I ever learned, I just threw it all at him. It's a bit of a haze, but I'm fairly sure I even ended up casting Orchideous; at the end of the duel, the whole floor was covered in flowers." He glanced down. "Caught his sleeve with a Scorching Charm though. I felt rather bad about that afterwards."

"You actually hit him?" Tonks asked.

"Only his sleeve. But he stepped back into one of the barriers, and I had time to get behind a pillar. After that, I mostly tried to stay out of his way."

I tried to picture it. The man who'd nearly apologised to our suspect for banging on the table had gone into a duel and driven an Auror back far enough to escape him.

"For the whole time?"

"I had to move quite a lot," he admitted. "Kept changing the colour of my robes to match whatever I was behind. I used to do it in the warehouse when I needed ten minutes to finish the accounts without anyone finding me."

Tonks laughed. He smiled a little more confidently.

"It was past the ten minute mark when he confronted me at the edge of the platform. He, well… uhm, he caught on to my trick and… he…" the man's voice died and Tonks and I shared a look.

"C'mon Wil, it's okay. We've all been through hell today, it can't have been that bad-" Tonks tried.

"He Vanished my clothes."

"… well, that is… one way of winning." I blinked at the man.

"After that, as you can imagine, things took a turn for the worse. The auror had me at wand point, demanded I yield. For a second I thought about fighting anyway, but… well, there's only so much courage a man can summon when he's standing in front of a committee in just his underwear and socks." Smidgeworth continued as Tonks and I just stared at him.

"I yielded and… that was it. Apparently, knowing when you're beaten and not engaging in fights you cannot win counted as proper auror instincts. He resummoned my clothes and I was led to the waiting room."

For a moment, neither of us knew how to respond to that. There was some indignation that Smidgeworth hadn't needed to last the full twelve minutes (and thirteen seconds) as we had, but then again, that indignation faded pretty quickly when we thought of what else the man had been forced to endure instead.

"Figures they'd mess with our heads about the time requirement. So far, every single test had some kind of hidden message or layer we had to figure out, makes sense they'd still try and test us even when it's presented as a straight up brawl. Good for you for seeing through it." I tried to encourage Smidgeworth.

Though that just reminded me of the examination where I had failed to get an achievement from my Gacha Grimoire and briefly I worried that by brute-forcing my way through this trial, I had lost out on an extra reward for the second time.

Oblivious to my inner turmoil, Smidgeworth looked pleased, then remembered that I hadn't answered Tonks first question when I had come into the changing rooms.

"And what about you? How did you survive your duel?"

"Hm? Oh, I won mine."

Tonks stared at me for several long seconds. "… What?"

"I got him with his own jinx. He dropped his wand, and I managed to get over there before he picked it up again." I looked down at my cup. "He yielded."

For a moment, neither of them said anything.

"You beat him?" Tonks asked, incredulous. "Julian, you're saying you beat an Auror."

"I know, I was there." I rubbed at the my still stinging arm. "I'm not saying I could do it again. He just wasn't expecting the spell to come back at him. Just my luck he had intended that spell to finish the match… which, to be fair, it did."

"… are you sure you're not secretly a Gryffindor?" Tonks asked with narrowed eyes, which got a laugh out of me.

Across from us though, Wil had gone very still.

"I don't think..." He stopped, swallowed and started again. "I don't think anyone's done that for over a hundred years."

I looked up. "What?"

"An applicant. Defeating their examiner." He glanced between us. "I read a history of the office when I was preparing. There was a section on recruitment, and one of the people they mentioned there had done it. But that was in the nineteenth century. They said nobody had managed it since."

Tonks was still looking at me as though she'd only just met me. After the morning's conversation about my resit, this was becoming a habit I could have done without. At least she seemed pleased this time.

"What did you send back?" she asked.

"Something that makes your muscles cramp. He caught my arm with a bit of it first." I opened and closed my left hand. "The second one was stronger."

"And you turned it back on him?"

"Just barely, but yes. Whatever it is, it's nasty work. Basically won the match for me; once he got hit with it, the fight was over. I don't think my gamble would've worked if he sent something weaker though, so on the whole I'm glad I managed it."

She sat back, letting out a breath. "You'll have to show me how you did that."

I began thinking of an answer that wouldn't involve telling her about the invisible book. Which is of course when it suddenly appeared over my knees and made the conversation considerably harder to follow.

Achievement recognised

A fully qualified Auror defeated in single combat during the Aurorial Appraisal.

An exceptional result achieved against a substantially more experienced opponent.

Awarded one (1) Silver Skill Ticket.

I caught myself staring before Tonks could ask what I was looking at.

"Can you guys give me a minute? I'd like to get out of these." I pulled at the torn training robes. "And wash some of this off."

"Of course." Tonks got up to let me past. "Do you need anything?"

"No. Thanks. I'll be all right."

I took my clothes into one of the cubicles and pulled the curtain closed. The grimoire followed, waiting while I sat on the little stool and examined the silver rectangle resting between its pages.

So Wil hadn't been exaggerating quite as much as I'd hoped. The book certainly considered it worth more than the written assessment.

I tore the ticket.

The knowledge arrived while I was still watching the silver fragments disappear. I knew how to hold a bow, how to draw without wasting effort in my shoulders and how to judge an arrow's flight. I knew where to put my feet with a blade in my hand. Sequences of movement made sense to me without anybody having demonstrated them, including places to cast where the spell and the strike would support each other.

It was more than I could properly examine while sitting in a changing cubicle. I reached for the book before I could become distracted trying.

[Elf Combat]

|Elite Skill|

You are trained in elven martial arts, a graceful yet lethal fighting style that blends magical affinity with swift, precise movements. Your combat style favors finesse, archery and enchanted blade work, letting you weave spells into every strike.

Elite. From a silver ticket.

I read the description again, then stood carefully. My legs were still tired, but I knew how I would move if somebody came through the curtain with a weapon. I also knew how to use the narrow space against them, and several of the options were unpleasant enough that I sat down again.

'This is… this is too much. I need to keep this secret somehow…' I quickly realized.

I'd spent seven years at school doing nothing that might explain any of this.

Tonks had shared lessons with me. McGonagall had already wanted to know why my Transfiguration had improved so suddenly. Even a new instructor would notice if I went from the performance I'd just given to moving as though I'd spent years being taught how to fight with a sword.

'I'll have to be careful. Practice privately, find legitimate opportunities to learn and let people see the improvements over time. Magician makes me a quick learner, but I still need to be seen actually learning in the first place.' I changed into clean robes as I thought it through.

It was a good problem to have. I kinda wished it had arrived before I'd allowed Renshaw to chase me round a room as if I was a pinata and his birthday had come early this year, but I wasn't going to complain about receiving an Elite Skill afterwards.

I dismissed the book and finished changing. There was a bruise forming along my hip where I'd hit the floor, which brought me back to the more immediate benefits of learning to fight properly. If this was the entrance examination, I doubted the apprenticeship was going to be gentle.

When I pulled the curtain back, Tonks was telling Wil that he ought to keep the robes from the Snitch pursuit, which his auror opponent had kindly un-Vanished.

"You've got to show her something," she said. "Take the Snitch if they'll let you. Put it on the mantelpiece."

"I'm not sure Mavis would like that."

Tonks opened her mouth, reconsidered whatever she had been about to say and looked towards me instead.

"Feeling better?"

"A bit." I sat down beside her. "Still tired."

"You look it." She passed me the water again, then moved her bag so I had more room. We waited together while the clock above the lockers ticked through another ten minutes.

---

The committee occupied a meeting room further along the corridor. By the time we were called in, I'd recovered enough to walk without complaining about my knees, though I still appreciated finding three chairs waiting on our side of the table.

Marchbanks sat with two other examiners, a silver-haired witch and a broad-faced wizard whose notes covered several sheets. Our files lay in front of them, each topped with the photograph taken from our application.

Mine looked far less tired than I felt.

"Please sit," Marchbanks said. "We've completed our review."

We obeyed. Tonks sat forward with her hands clasped together. Smidgeworth adjusted his sleeves, then his spectacles, then seemed to realise what he was doing and stopped.

"Before we give you the result, I'd like to explain some of what you were assessed on," Marchbanks continued. "The written exercise contained more material than you could reasonably investigate in two hours. We needed to see what you prioritised and whether you recognised when action couldn't wait."

She glanced down at the files.

"A complete report is of little use to the child injured while you were finishing it. All three of you requested intervention in the jewellery-box case before completing your recommendations on the seller."

Wil let out a small breath. I understood the feeling, even with the grimoire having already reassured me.

"The missing chairs were deliberate as well," the silver-haired witch added. "We were interested in how you responded to unnecessary difficulty and whether you displayed the initiative to resolve it. You were free to ask for a chair, make one or decide you worked better standing, should you have thought to see that the desks' legs were adjustable. Several candidates spent the entire exercise uncomfortable because they assumed being uncomfortable was part of the instructions."

Tonks glanced at me, and I kept my eyes on the committee.

"In the practical search," Marchbanks said, "securing a dangerous object did not conclude the investigation. We wanted you to distinguish between dealing with an immediate threat and establishing that the premises were safe. There were also opportunities to recover and interpret evidence beyond the obvious hazards."

I thought of the receipt book I'd bagged without examining the contents. I hadn't tried to work out what the missing pages meant or whether the binding on the poker connected it to anything else. I'd been occupied with keeping the furniture away from my legs.

That explained the absent ticket. I'd done enough to pass and left it there.

"The pursuit gave you a more tempting objective," the broad-faced wizard said. "A fast-moving target, a time limit and a chance to arrive before the others and bag the suspect and thus the glory. It tends to bring out habits some people would try to conceal at a desk."

By his tone of voice, it wasn't hard to figure out who he meant with 'some people' as I thought of the thirty year old man threatening to call his dad. Marchbanks took up the next sheet.

"Instead, you treated it as a shared task. Mr. Crawford initiated the coordination, Miss Tonks found a useful position despite her difficulties flying, and Mr. Smidgeworth identified the travel enchantment. Once the Snitch fell, you recovered it without losing the contents. Your group was the only one to complete that exercise successfully."

Wil looked down at his repaired spectacles. Tonks nudged his elbow beneath the table, and he managed a smile.

"Your interview relied on an opportunity particular to the exercise," Marchbanks continued. "You won't routinely find criminals willing to explain their role once they believe a performance is over. You did, however, recognise what this individual wanted, established a plan and used each member of the team to carry it out. Those are skills we can develop."

She turned to the final page.

"The duels tested how you behaved when a plan became difficult to maintain. Miss Tonks, you continued defending yourself under pressure. Mr. Smidgeworth, you took an opening and then used concealment to compensate for your opponent's advantage, knowing when it was wisest to admit defeat rather than keep fighting pointlessly. Mr. Crawford..."

I sat a little straighter.

"You forced a surrender."

The broad-faced wizard looked at me over his notes. I had no idea what to say, so I said nothing.

"There is a great deal for all three of you to learn," Marchbanks said. "That is what the apprenticeship is for. Today's appraisal establishes whether we believe you have the judgement and capacity to undertake it."

She closed the file.

"You have all passed. Congratulations."

Tonks let out a breath that was almost a laugh. Beside her, Smidgeworth stared at Marchbanks and then at the closed files, apparently waiting for her to open one again and explain why, actually, his result didn't count.

I barely noticed, still stuck on Marchbanks's first words.

'I … passed?'

For a moment, I couldn't think beyond that. I'd spent the morning worrying about the written test, the afternoon being attacked by household objects and the last hour wondering whether beating my examiner might somehow count against me. Now the people responsible for deciding whether or not I even had a future in law enforcement had finally finished their discussion, and apparently, the answer was 'yes'.

Tonks caught my arm under the table. When I looked at her, she was grinning so broadly that I found myself doing the same.

Then the grimoire appeared above my file.

Achievement recognised

Aurorial Appraisal completed successfully.

Accepted for Auror apprenticeship following all required assessments.

Rare achievement recognised.

Awarded one (1) Golden Ability Ticket.

That certainly got my attention. Another Golden ticket was waiting between the pages, but even though I badly wanted to know what I'd won, I forced myself to ignore it. Reaching for something invisible right in front of the committee before the ink on my acceptance letter had even had a chance to dry seemed like a good way to have said letter torn to shreds right in front of me. Instead, I deliberately kept looking past the Gacha Grimoire's pages at Marchbanks, trying to remember what she'd said before the ticket had risen out of the page.

The silver-haired witch had moved on to tomorrow's reporting arrangements, so I concentrated on listening while Tonks continued gripping my arm beneath the table. Smidgeworth was having rather less success containing himself and had begun tearfully thanking the examiners from her other side.

I almost wanted to join in. I also wanted them to stop talking long enough for me to find somewhere private and see what I'd won.

"Your mentors will be assigned tomorrow morning," the witch said. "Report to Auror Headquarters at nine. The three of you are this year's only successful applicants; you'll receive the remaining induction material together."

The broad-faced wizard grinned at us, his more serious demeanor fading rapidly now that the official part had apparently come to an end. "Three recruits in one year. That's a good intake."

"High, but hardly unprecedented," Marchbanks responded.

"Perhaps not, but when was the last time all three came from the same House?"

Marchbanks paused at that. "I couldn't say."

"All Hufflepuffs, too." the man said with undisguised pride, even giving us a nod that I hesitantly returned.

She considered us for another moment before giving a small nod. "That may actually be a first."

Tonks looked delighted. Smidgeworth merely blinked, apparently still struggling with the idea that they'd meant it when they said he'd passed.

"Thank you," I said, dragging my attention away from the tantalizing Golden ticket long enough to mean it.

Marchbanks rose from her chair and began gathering the files in front of her. Tonks was already getting to her feet, so Smidgeworth and I followed, exchanging handshakes with the committee before making our way towards the door.

We'd barely made it into the corridor before Tonks turned around and threw both arms around me.

"We did it!"

I laughed, returning the hug carefully while my shoulder reminded me it had had a long day. She let go and turned to Smidgeworth before he could intercept the human missile that was Tonks. He stood stiffly for a moment as she embraced him, then patted her back with an expression of dazed pleasure.

"I really ought to tell Mavis," he said when she released him.

"In a minute. We're celebrating first." Tonks looked between us. "Ice cream. Fortescue's. My treat, and neither of you is saying no."

"I wasn't going to," I assured her.

Wil opened his mouth, glanced at us both and closed it again. "I suppose I could send an owl from the Alley."

"Exactly. Come on!"

She took his arm and started towards the lifts. I followed for a few steps, then slowed beside an empty alcove.

"Just a moment. I need to check something."

Tonks waved without turning round. Smidgeworth had begun asking whether she was quite sure all three of us had been accepted, and she was assuring him that he'd heard correctly.

I pulled the grimoire closer and caught the golden ticket. Counterspell Casting had come from one of these. After what it had done for me today, I was trying very hard not to expect too much from the next one (not that I was very successful, I had always been an overly optimistic Hufflepuff).

I tore it before I could spend any more time wondering.

[Detection Magic]

|Elite Ability|

Allows you to sense the presence of anything using magic as the medium, gaining detailed information about what you find including its size, quantity, and whether it is hidden. Tracking Evasion users can slip past your senses.

I read the words twice, trying not to feel too disappointed. It wasn't as immediately impressive as being able to turn someone's spell against them. Then I remembered the room full of enchanted furniture and the missing reward I'd been sulking over afterwards.

I let a little magic spread out from me.

The cupboard opposite contained six shelves, four crates and a narrow space behind the lower boards. There was something wrapped in cloth in that space, small and flat, concealed where I wouldn't have thought to look. Further along, I could sense two people passing behind a closed door. I hadn't heard either of them approach.

I drew the magic back before I became distracted examining things I had no business investigating.

Back in the mock-up of the crime scene, I'd needed to expose myself to the cursed poker before I could establish what was there. I'd recovered a receipt book without knowing whether something more important was hidden nearby. With this, I could search the place before putting my hands anywhere near its contents.

The lack of a reward made rather more sense now. I'd missed opportunities because I hadn't even known they were there.

I closed the grimoire, already thinking about how I'd use Detection Magic the next time somebody asked me to investigate a room. It might not look as dramatic as sending a curse back at its caster, but I could see myself using it every day.

"Julian!" Tonks called. "The lift's here!"

I tucked my wand away and hurried to join them before the grille closed. I could put off planning my future career and possible Gacha rewards for tomorrow.

For now, there was a bowl of ice-cream with my name on it.

---

AN: You can read up to 5 chapters ahead over on my Patreon

 

[aokway]

Elf Combat

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Detection Magic

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Wizards have magic
This is basically magic Byakugon
You are officially in "spy movie action hero" levels of fighting skill

 

[KingNecron101]

Loved the chapter. All the characters so far have been very charming. Also love to see Tonks be part of the main cast.

 

[Kaithar]

So Tonks is the love interest, right? Riiiiight?! *glare*

For a fraction of a second it seemed to hang between us, bent sharply around the end of my wand, before to my own surprise, it snapped back the way it had come.

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Um, what? His wand is over yonder on the ground... am I missing something?

 

[Ralyx]

For a fraction of a second it seemed to hang between us, bent sharply around the end of my wand,

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Continuity error: he does not have his wand at this point.

 

[l---erddad---l]

Those rolls are wild. Combat jumpstart if I've ever seen one.

 

[FTR2017]

Excellent chapter, I look forward to Crawford slowly changing from his Hufflepuff mediocrity straight into Green Hornet territory with the nonsense he can pull off.

 

[Yohnos]

He basically got the six eyes now, he just needs to get an equivalent of limitless

 

[RandomWebPasserBy]

So Tonks is the love interest, right? Riiiiight?! *glare*


Um, what? His wand is over yonder on the ground... am I missing something?

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I think the author wanted to write hand and wrote wand by mistake.

 

[Kaithar]

I think the author wanted to write hand and wrote wand by mistake.

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Ooooh, that would definitely make sense. Though, "end of my hand" is a little odd in phrasing, normally it'd be "back of my hand" or "tips of my fingers" or something... still, the scene makes sense which is the important part.

 

[RandomWebPasserBy]

I really like Wil, a middle aged man with a boring life going through his mid-life crisis and decides to try his hand at changing his life starting by trying a different job and surprise both himself and others by being good at it.

 

[Alltier]

Hoping for him to get the old blood trait or the caryll runes skill

 

[Red_Faux]

Get ready for a reputation of a man who refused to apply himself until now. Because it certainly looks like you just needed to actually try, and you had a bad case of "lazy as shit" syndrome. Not very Hufflepuff of you.