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Episky · 08-17-2014, 10:57 PM

I hope everyone's been enjoying the story thus far

Here's a bit more!

“Right. First off, I think a bit of congratulations are in order! Two years, eleven months of some of the hardest, and best in my opinion, work done!” The encouraging words were Gawain Robards, Head of the Auror Office at the Ministry of Magic. They were standing in a room about as large as Hogwarts’s Great Hall in a far corner of the Academy that they had, until this day, never even known about. It was dimly lit and completely bare, causing Ron curiosity of what its actual purpose was.
Ron couldn’t help but smirk. He, Harry, Neville, Dean Thomas and Terry Boot were the only Aurors-in-training of their year. Who wouldn’t be pleased with themselves for making it as far as they had in Auror training? It was right nasty work, and he was one month away from reaping his well-earned rewards.
“Now, as you all know, the final month is our chance to see what you’ve truly taken away from all of your training. You will be put through a series of situations, testing what we have come to acknowledge as both personal and communal strengths and weaknesses. We ask that you do your best to treat them as authentic crises, for they will help us determine who is ready to move on from the academy,” Robards continued, his cheerful demeanor replaced with complete seriousness.
Ron scoffed quietly and leaned over to Harry. “Yes, Harry, I’m not sure you’re capable enough to save the world from the Dark Arts. Oh wait…” he whispered sarcastically. Harry grinned, fighting back laughter.
“Ahhh, right. I see Weasley thinks our final tasks here lack a proper challenge?” Robards interrupted.
Ron’s arrogance quickly shifted to feigned diffidence. “No sir. I’m actually looking rather forward to it,” he replied.
Robards eyed Ron with skepticism, and while Ron had the urge to give his true opinions on the matter, he preferred to make it to graduation, so he smiled meekly at the man.
Robards finally dismissed the matter with a nod. “Alright! Let’s get started then!” He said with a smile before apparating.
The boys looked at each other for answers, though it quickly became clear that no one knew what was to come next.
“I don’t like this,” Ron could hear Neville mutter, and Dean chuckled as he slapped Neville on the back.
“Oh, come off it, Neville. You’ve been in far worse shape,” Dean reassured him. Ron and the other boys joined Dean in laughter.
“Yeah, come on, Neville. I bet these tests will be easier than asking my sister to the Yule Ball,” he joked, and Neville’s nervousness broke as he, too, cracked a smile.
Suddenly the torches that barely lit the room went out, and the boys were in complete darkness.
“Lumos!” rang out, and as the room was re-illuminated, Ron could see that like him, the other four had their wands at the ready and were scanning the room. The tone had changed, and the nonchalant attitude of a ‘test’ disappeared as Ron’s survival mode kicked into autopilot. He looked around, and the room had changed completely. They were in what appeared to be the disheveled living room of a house. Books were strewn about, furniture was turned over, something made of glass had been shattered, and he spotted a trail of blood making its way up to the second floor.
He turned to the others and indicated to the trail, suggesting his intention to follow it. The others nodded and Harry took a step towards Ron, establishing that he was going with him. Ron nodded his consent, and they slowly made their ascent to the second floor. As they neared the top, Ron noticed the blood looked darker and fresher, and he could now hear a soft moan coming from a room to the right of the stairs. He glanced back to check on Harry, who had also taken notice of the new additions to their investigation. Harry pointed to Ron and cocked his head to the left as he veered to the right. Ron nodded, investigating the noise down the narrow hallway. The moaning was getting louder now, and his pace quickened until he got to the very last room on the left. The door was slightly ajar, and he could hear now that the moaning was coming from a woman in severe pain. He readied himself for the unexpected, and with a wave of his wand, the door flew open.
“Lumos Maxima,” he called and a great ball of light sprouted out of his wand and into the room so he could survey its condition. The room was just as tousled as the rest of the house, albeit a distracting pool of blood leading to…
Ron’s breath caught in his throat and he stopped dead in his tracks. His body tensed, and his eyes widened slightly. The trail of blood had stemmed from a brutally wounded Hermione. Her body was bundled into a heap in the corner, and though she had been moaning softly before, her body was empty of any life.
He began to panic, trying to push down the sobs that were urging to surface, to clear his mind of the emotion that could potentially block him from physically taking hold of the situation. He took several steps forward into the room until he hovered over her, and the emotional reaction to the sight in front of him began to overpower. He froze. In his mind, he knew it was only a drill, but the shock of the situation before him was too much for his heart.
He shut his eyes tight, trying to snap himself out of it. It’s not her. She’s not really here. DO SOMETHING, FOR MERLIN’S SAKE! He snapped his eyes back open, and found that Hermione was no longer Hermione, but his mother in a similar state. He realized the mistake he had made within moments, and in an eager effort to rid himself of the awful images he had fallen witness to, he bellowed, “RIDDIKULUS!” The boggart vanished.

08-17-2014, 10:57 PM	#2 (permalink)
Episky Flobberworm Join Date: Aug 2014 Location: Edinburgh, Scotland Posts: 13	I hope everyone's been enjoying the story thus far Here's a bit more! “Right. First off, I think a bit of congratulations are in order! Two years, eleven months of some of the hardest, and best in my opinion, work done!” The encouraging words were Gawain Robards, Head of the Auror Office at the Ministry of Magic. They were standing in a room about as large as Hogwarts’s Great Hall in a far corner of the Academy that they had, until this day, never even known about. It was dimly lit and completely bare, causing Ron curiosity of what its actual purpose was. Ron couldn’t help but smirk. He, Harry, Neville, Dean Thomas and Terry Boot were the only Aurors-in-training of their year. Who wouldn’t be pleased with themselves for making it as far as they had in Auror training? It was right nasty work, and he was one month away from reaping his well-earned rewards. “Now, as you all know, the final month is our chance to see what you’ve truly taken away from all of your training. You will be put through a series of situations, testing what we have come to acknowledge as both personal and communal strengths and weaknesses. We ask that you do your best to treat them as authentic crises, for they will help us determine who is ready to move on from the academy,” Robards continued, his cheerful demeanor replaced with complete seriousness. Ron scoffed quietly and leaned over to Harry. “Yes, Harry, I’m not sure you’re capable enough to save the world from the Dark Arts. Oh wait…” he whispered sarcastically. Harry grinned, fighting back laughter. “Ahhh, right. I see Weasley thinks our final tasks here lack a proper challenge?” Robards interrupted. Ron’s arrogance quickly shifted to feigned diffidence. “No sir. I’m actually looking rather forward to it,” he replied. Robards eyed Ron with skepticism, and while Ron had the urge to give his true opinions on the matter, he preferred to make it to graduation, so he smiled meekly at the man. Robards finally dismissed the matter with a nod. “Alright! Let’s get started then!” He said with a smile before apparating. The boys looked at each other for answers, though it quickly became clear that no one knew what was to come next. “I don’t like this,” Ron could hear Neville mutter, and Dean chuckled as he slapped Neville on the back. “Oh, come off it, Neville. You’ve been in far worse shape,” Dean reassured him. Ron and the other boys joined Dean in laughter. “Yeah, come on, Neville. I bet these tests will be easier than asking my sister to the Yule Ball,” he joked, and Neville’s nervousness broke as he, too, cracked a smile. Suddenly the torches that barely lit the room went out, and the boys were in complete darkness. “Lumos!” rang out, and as the room was re-illuminated, Ron could see that like him, the other four had their wands at the ready and were scanning the room. The tone had changed, and the nonchalant attitude of a ‘test’ disappeared as Ron’s survival mode kicked into autopilot. He looked around, and the room had changed completely. They were in what appeared to be the disheveled living room of a house. Books were strewn about, furniture was turned over, something made of glass had been shattered, and he spotted a trail of blood making its way up to the second floor. He turned to the others and indicated to the trail, suggesting his intention to follow it. The others nodded and Harry took a step towards Ron, establishing that he was going with him. Ron nodded his consent, and they slowly made their ascent to the second floor. As they neared the top, Ron noticed the blood looked darker and fresher, and he could now hear a soft moan coming from a room to the right of the stairs. He glanced back to check on Harry, who had also taken notice of the new additions to their investigation. Harry pointed to Ron and cocked his head to the left as he veered to the right. Ron nodded, investigating the noise down the narrow hallway. The moaning was getting louder now, and his pace quickened until he got to the very last room on the left. The door was slightly ajar, and he could hear now that the moaning was coming from a woman in severe pain. He readied himself for the unexpected, and with a wave of his wand, the door flew open. “Lumos Maxima,” he called and a great ball of light sprouted out of his wand and into the room so he could survey its condition. The room was just as tousled as the rest of the house, albeit a distracting pool of blood leading to… Ron’s breath caught in his throat and he stopped dead in his tracks. His body tensed, and his eyes widened slightly. The trail of blood had stemmed from a brutally wounded Hermione. Her body was bundled into a heap in the corner, and though she had been moaning softly before, her body was empty of any life. He began to panic, trying to push down the sobs that were urging to surface, to clear his mind of the emotion that could potentially block him from physically taking hold of the situation. He took several steps forward into the room until he hovered over her, and the emotional reaction to the sight in front of him began to overpower. He froze. In his mind, he knew it was only a drill, but the shock of the situation before him was too much for his heart. He shut his eyes tight, trying to snap himself out of it. It’s not her. She’s not really here. DO SOMETHING, FOR MERLIN’S SAKE! He snapped his eyes back open, and found that Hermione was no longer Hermione, but his mother in a similar state. He realized the mistake he had made within moments, and in an eager effort to rid himself of the awful images he had fallen witness to, he bellowed, “RIDDIKULUS!” The boggart vanished.