RP: Training Day
Date: 15 April 1999
Characters: [Auror Spence], Harry Potter, Ernie MacMillan, Ron Weasley, Michael Corner
Location: Ministry of Magic, Auror department
Status: Private
Summary: The trainees meet their commanding officer.
Completion: InComplete
Auror Frances Spencer, known to his colleagues strictly as Spence, picked up his clipboard, leaning against his desk at the outskirts of the bullpen. It was a position of relative authority, though he wasn't quite high up enough to warrant his own office. It would come in time, he knew -- of course, training season was a hell of a drain on the time he could be spending on major cases. It was part of the job, though; one of the things that got you a good name with the department as long as you didn't turn yourself into some gopher.
And maybe he liked seeing the potential in trainees, helping them to realise it -- not that everyone had it in them. He'd weed those out soon enough.
He chuckled. Plus, rookies were just plain fun to shake down.
"How many you got this year, Spence?"
Spence lifted a brow and spared Auror Jackson a glance before he picked up a pencil and scanned his list of recruits. His brows contracted when he saw the names Potter and Weasley on it. Huh. Wasn't that a bitch? Well, he'd just have to make sure they didn't get too big for their knickers. "Got fifteen this time."
"Bit more than usual, isn't it?"
"They won't all last," Spence said with a shrug. "Besides, what do you expect? We need more hands after all that shit from last year."
"Yeah; no kidding. Still, beautiful day for kicking some rookie arse."
Spence grinned at his partner over his cup of coffee. "It is that. Listen, Jackson, I'm going to need you to take care of the paperwork from the Smithson case. I'll be busy this morning."
"But I got the paperwork from the last case," Jackson protested, "Thought I'd go check on some lab results this morning."
"Hate to tell you this, but you're never getting into Moran's knickers if you keep interrupting her at work. Besides, anytime you want to deal with a bunch of snot-nosed recruits, I'd be happy to handle the paperwork."
Jackson snorted. "I can take them. I'll just tell 'em your real name."
"Yeah; fuck you." Spence grabbed his notes and headed for training room #1, smiling as he heard Jackson's laugh from back in the bullpen.
He checked the clock; it was after seven. Good; if they'd been on time, and he would check downstairs to make sure, then they'd been stewing for at least ten minutes. He wiped the smile off his face before he opened the door to find them clustered among the tables in their painfully-new black robes. Christ, they looked small.
He strode to the front of the room, looked each of them in the eye. "What the fuck are you looking at?" He raised his brow along with his voice. "Line the hell up, rookies!"
Characters: [Auror Spence], Harry Potter, Ernie MacMillan, Ron Weasley, Michael Corner
Location: Ministry of Magic, Auror department
Status: Private
Summary: The trainees meet their commanding officer.
Completion: InComplete
Auror Frances Spencer, known to his colleagues strictly as Spence, picked up his clipboard, leaning against his desk at the outskirts of the bullpen. It was a position of relative authority, though he wasn't quite high up enough to warrant his own office. It would come in time, he knew -- of course, training season was a hell of a drain on the time he could be spending on major cases. It was part of the job, though; one of the things that got you a good name with the department as long as you didn't turn yourself into some gopher.
And maybe he liked seeing the potential in trainees, helping them to realise it -- not that everyone had it in them. He'd weed those out soon enough.
He chuckled. Plus, rookies were just plain fun to shake down.
"How many you got this year, Spence?"
Spence lifted a brow and spared Auror Jackson a glance before he picked up a pencil and scanned his list of recruits. His brows contracted when he saw the names Potter and Weasley on it. Huh. Wasn't that a bitch? Well, he'd just have to make sure they didn't get too big for their knickers. "Got fifteen this time."
"Bit more than usual, isn't it?"
"They won't all last," Spence said with a shrug. "Besides, what do you expect? We need more hands after all that shit from last year."
"Yeah; no kidding. Still, beautiful day for kicking some rookie arse."
Spence grinned at his partner over his cup of coffee. "It is that. Listen, Jackson, I'm going to need you to take care of the paperwork from the Smithson case. I'll be busy this morning."
"But I got the paperwork from the last case," Jackson protested, "Thought I'd go check on some lab results this morning."
"Hate to tell you this, but you're never getting into Moran's knickers if you keep interrupting her at work. Besides, anytime you want to deal with a bunch of snot-nosed recruits, I'd be happy to handle the paperwork."
Jackson snorted. "I can take them. I'll just tell 'em your real name."
"Yeah; fuck you." Spence grabbed his notes and headed for training room #1, smiling as he heard Jackson's laugh from back in the bullpen.
He checked the clock; it was after seven. Good; if they'd been on time, and he would check downstairs to make sure, then they'd been stewing for at least ten minutes. He wiped the smile off his face before he opened the door to find them clustered among the tables in their painfully-new black robes. Christ, they looked small.
He strode to the front of the room, looked each of them in the eye. "What the fuck are you looking at?" He raised his brow along with his voice. "Line the hell up, rookies!"