To Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Days [Alex]

Time was relative they said. Arbitrary. That what may seem like centuries to one may feel like seconds to another. Perhaps it was, especially for two particular minutes. There was nothing special to those two minutes in any regard. The count began about twenty three seconds after a quarter to one, the second hand winding around two full rotations. Easy. Simple. Torture.

And really, only one person seemed aware of it. Very aware. Her eyes kept glancing between the clock face and a human one, the latter of which was rapt at something else entirely. That person spent the whole two minutes with his eyes on a docket, surveying freshly added notes on the margins of the parchment, with no sense of the time. It was only until he heard the woman sitting across from him clear her throat that he was brought away from the eternal world of words and into the present.

‘Ah, I apologise. I just want to make sure I’ve the details properly.’ The man’s smooth, baritone voice laid like silk in the silent space he’d broken. But now that his attention was called, he gave it properly, looking at the woman with curious intensity, his light grey eyes seemingly peering both at her and through her. He smiled, and it was a warm one, but his eyes did not waver in focus. Perhaps she should have left him well enough alone and gratefully counted the clock.

‘We’ll run our recommendations to your superior and follow up from there. I do thank you for allowing me to take some of your precious time.’ He stood up, as manners dictated, and shook her hand firmly. He smiled again, and this time his eyes softened to something much more pleasant to look back to, a warm expression―goofy, even―one that she’d heard about from many Officials who’d crossed paths or worked with him. They said he was a loon, and there were definitely quite a few loony moments during their hour-long exchange. But no one mentioned how serious he could be. She was an Auror, and dealt with her fair share of menacing looks without barely batting an eye. But in this exchange, she had to admit that she found herself unsettled at times by his level of questioning, and how easily those light eyes turned to a hawkish gaze. And now as she was being ushered out, she wondered wistfully if she could go back and stretch those two whole minutes.

On his end, there was no time for meta-reflection. He was booked, his entire day filled to the minute with some agenda. For the better part of the day, he’d been interviewing Aurors, checking in and double-checking with Auror HQ and with his foreign counterparts, slowly building the necessary guard for their upcoming summit. The winnowing was quite the undertaking, especially when his Department Head refused to assign the task to anyone lower than her Undersecretaries, leaving it to just two of them when the list really required at least a set of four. In his small, beautifully even script, he added the last bit of notes on the previous woman’s file, placing it on a particular stack amongst several that lay on his table. A knock on his office door signalled that he needed to get himself ready. Quickly grabbing a clean scroll and a freshly cut quill, he then called out.

‘All right! Send the next one in, please!’

@Alex Regan

After Quinn and others he’d interacted with over the last couple months, Alex had expected kid gloves, at least initially. To be shuffled away to deal with paperwork at the worst. He’d expected to have to prove himself again. He had been pleasantly surprised. His colleagues weren’t his family, and they might have been friends but they understood this too. He had passed muster, physical and psychological. He was just as fit as anyone.

That said, work had been slow. The few assignments had been handed out to other teams. All day the rest of them had been going into the International Cooperation department a couple at a time, interviewing to be chosen as security for a big summer event. As others went and came, Alex fidgeted, unexpectedly full of stress. Usually he didn’t bother worrying about this sort of thing, didn’t really care if he was passed over for a job. There were plenty of aurors, all well-trained and capable and most with seniority over him. But he found, to his surprise, that some insecure part of him needed this post. He needed to know for sure that he was trusted, that he was valued.

Now Alex waited outside the office, hands folded between spread knees as he sat. He hated this, had never been a patient man. Waiting for things had a way of dissolving confidence, turning a good feeling into dread.

He jumped when the office door opened. Auror Shaw came out, giving him a brief nod as she passed. A small, commiserating smile flitted across his face in response. No one liked interviews like this. Having to sell oneself over and over, it got tiring, even for someone like Alex. After she was gone he breathed in deep, knowing his turn was up. A secretary knocked at the door, then beckoned for him to come in.

“Hi, Jon,” said Alex as he entered, flashing the interviewer a smile. They were friendly when trapped together in Hogwarts, though this was the first time they’d run across each other since. He’d been pleased to hear who was in charge. It couldn’t hurt to be evaluated by a friend. Especially, though, he thought with a sudden guilty chill, by one who might believe he owed him something. But the feeling subsided quickly. He’d saved Jon’s life at personal cost, there was no harm in getting something little out of it.

He sat, straightening his spine and smiling pleasantly. “You’ve been alright these last few months, I hope?”

Jonathan shot up at the mention of his name. That voice was unmistakable. It was a voice that sometimes kept Jon up at night, ringing repeatedly in dreams he wished to have long put past. Jonathan had maintained a professional, and somewhat aloof distance as he interviewed each Auror that entered his office. But he wavered at the sight of Alex. It was difficult to pretend to be just colleagues, business-as-usual. Not after what they’d been through together. But Jonathan's own standing and reputation were tied to this current project, and not even the deepest of guilt could sway him from doing a proper job.

As Alex sat down, Jonathan caught himself glancing at Alex’s leg, or where a leg should have been under the fabric of his clothes. Immediately, his mind flashed to agonising screams, cursed flesh, and blood. So much blood...He scolded himself for his moment impropriety, and his mind’s succumbing to weakness. He looked Alex in the eye, smiling as warmly as he could.

‘I’ve been as well as one can reasonably be,’ he responded. ‘Some trouble when sleeping, but since work won’t let me even shut my eyes of late, it’s not a real problem.’

Indeed, Jonathan had thrown himself into work, finding his waking hours in the Ministry, despite all the stress that it brought, a balm to his wracked mind. At least at work, there were plenty in his control, including the direction of this meeting. The Aurors had always held a lofty position amongst the ranks of the Ministry, but for now, Jon’s current role superseded theirs. Not one to care about titles and power, Jonathan still had to admit it felt great to be in a leadership role, to oversee directions of important events, and pushing the Ministry in directions that aligned with his vision. It was a great feeling, no matter how much it took out of him. That was nothing compared to the few hours when he could no longer open his eyes, and was then in the mercy of his subconscious. Ever since the disappearance of the Dome, Jon’s thoughts and dreams were unrelenting, unable to fully put those memories in the past where they belonged.

Alex had always been easy to get along with, but ever since they came back to the Ministry, Jon had avoided him, unable to process a living reminder of the days he wished had never existed. But now, here he was, sitting right across from Jon in his own office.

The young Emerson cleared his throat and shuffled through a docket, containing Alex’s profile, his expression distant. Jonathan noted the high marks and recommendations made throughout Alex’s training. But new additions to the Irishman’s detail were more reserved. It wasn’t uncommon for Aurors to receive magical injuries over the course of their dangerous careers, but it was fairly rare to have such a serious one at the start, when Aurors were in their peak physical health. Jonathan had passed over several Aurors for the posts he needed filled, many of them far more experienced. And they possessed all their working limbs.

Jonathan was known for his warmth and friendliness, but his professional decisions could be surprisingly calculating. As it stood, the odds were not stacked in Alex’s favour. Jonathan wondered if he should just keep the meeting on as a formality, and speed it along. He still had several candidates to get through, after all, and the work day was quickly nearing its end.

‘I’m sorry if I pulled you out of something pressing,’ Jonathan began, though his sedately calm voice masked whatever he truly felt. ‘I’ll try not to keep too much of your time.’

Jonathan closed the docket with Alex’s information, placing it next to him on the sofa. He then reached over the table, sliding some parchment toward Alex. The scrolls, in Jonathan’s fine script, listed names, a sketch of a complex floor plan, and other details that were seemingly spilt with ink, as they were beyond what any Auror would be privy to.

‘These are marked Confidential, and may not leave the confines of this room. In August, the International Confederation of Wizards will hold a very important conference. Normally, International Decrees involve just the Enjoys, but this event will host the Prime Ministers, Presidents, and Premiers of nearly 50 Ministries, not including the Department Heads of major branches.’

Jonathan paused, giving Alex some time to parse the details. ‘We are cooperating with other Ministries to ensure everyone is well-guarded, but many are wary about Britain’s leading of this summit, especially after what happened to us just a few years ago, and what happened in Hogwarts just a few months past.’

‘It’s not a glamorous role, shadowing Officials and standing around all day. But it’s also considered a display of soft power. Every Auror we send will be judged by the Aurors of every other Ministry, and at the end of the main objective, the ICW will elect a new Supreme Mugwump and the country to lead the Confederation.’

Jonathan looked at Alex intently, leaning slightly foward to hear his response. ‘How well do you consider yourself as a representative of the Auror programme, and of our Ministry as a whole?’

The second Alex saw the look in Jonathan’s eyes, guilt gripped his stomach. His smile faded, replaced with a powerful regret he struggled not to let show on his face. How could he have presumed to come here as a friend? That it would be like it was before? Jon replied, voice exhausted, and Alex breathed out slowly. He remembered, himself, of course. And the feelings came back to him sometimes in silence, smothering, paralyzing. But he’d spent most of the experience in and out of consciousness, disoriented and delirious with shock and pain. His struggle had come afterward. Jon—he may have been unharmed but his memories would be clear as crystal and just as sharp. Alex couldn’t look him in the eye. He shouldn’t be here, he was a living dementor—this man’s trauma and guilt made corporeal.

“It’s alright,” he said, thinly. “Hasn’t been much to do today.” Jon had opened a file, surely containing some sort of information on him, and Alex watched as he looked it over with an unreadable expression. His anxiety swelled as seconds passed. He’d always been confident in his reputation but slowly he realized things could be different now. He had had hoped so deeply he’d almost believed that what happened in Hogwarts wouldn’t affect his future, that his ability wouldn’t be doubted. But perhaps it had been naïve.

Alex took the documents passed to him without a word, looking down at the names and titles. They had vague meaning to him but his mind was elsewhere. He had always prided himself on bravery, on a cool and clear head, but fear was blooming in his chest at the sickeningly possible thought that his career might never recover. When he was asked a question, he just looked up blankly. It was rare that he was speechless. But for several moments he was silent, the sheer cruciality of his answer making it impossible to formulate one.

“I—I know I’m not a frontrunner anymore,” he began slowly, careful to keep his voice even. “I can do everything I could before—there were tests, I passed them. But that doesn’t really matter; the way people’ll see it isn’t rational. And I don’t know what that’ll mean for me here.” He paused, drew in a deep breath. “But it does mean that whatever chance I’m given, I’ll take and I’ll make for damn sure I prove I’m still great at what I do.” His fingers curled into a fist on his knee, nails digging into his palm. “It doesn’t have to be this chance. I’m young and there’re plenty of others; it’s your decision. But you know how dedicated I am to doing the right thing, to making sure everyone’s safe—“ Alex stopped abruptly. Saying it made him feel ill. He couldn’t believe he’d been willing to leverage Jon’s guilt against him before he’d come in. “I—and—“ He fought to regain his momentum, to remember what he’d been going to say. “—And I think that’s the sort of person you want for a job like this. For the protection of the attendees, yes, but to represent—what we value. What—what it means to do this work, in the end.”

In any other interview he’d have looked the conductor straight in the eyes here, let them look into him and see how much he meant it. But he couldn’t bring himself to this time. He would sit here because he was made to, speak because he had to. But forcing Jon to look him in the face was more than he could do.