Chapter 47
ALDER EVANS
The Auror Academy was a place was an institute under the DMLE. The place was used to train Aurors once they had passed the preliminary screening tests. Being an Auror was one of the more monetarily lucrative options for young wizards and witches, yet few dared to opt for it, and fewer still ever managed to fulfill their dreams.
The training was quite brutal, and few made it through the entire selection process. Less than a dozen people were inducted into the field every year, and this year's batch now stood infront of him.
"A test?" he questioned with a raised brow, and Edgar Bones nodded. The man now supported scars of his own and had apologised already to him for the role he had played in the demise of Narcissa.
Though it was too late for apologies now.
"There are few who doubt your abilities, and are against the notion of having such a young wizard on the field," and by the law, Alder was being offered an apprenticeship by the DMLE, a relic of a bygone and in the modern age, apprenticeships had become a thing of the past.
Still, it was the only workaround available to induct him into the force without causing too much of a stir. He did not care for the title, but it would allow him to sit his NEWTS in two years' time if he so desired.
Not that he was thinking so far ahead.
"I wasn't told about this," Alder complained, and Edgar looked towards the man at the back, and Alder already knew he was for his face was now plastered on Prophet every other day.
Bartemius Crouch, and he had been given Bones' old rank of Deputy Department Head. He was also the one to get the legislation regarding the use of Unforgivables through the House.
Supposedly, he had lost his family during the fight against Grindelwald, which had made him into a sort of mad dog. But even Mad dogs had their uses. But he was not alone, though beside him stood a woman with a squarish face, dressed in formal witch's robes and a stiff hat.
And Alder realised that he had more doubters than he had thought.
"I am sorry, I tried to explain to the..."
"It's fine," he suggested, and if they wanted a show, then he would give them one. With a flick of his wrist, his wand was in his hand, as he stepped forward, towards the half dozen graduates that now were lined up infront of him.
He spotted a few familiar faces in the group. Amelia was one, and Shacklebolt was another. Others he had seen somewhere, though, he knew only these two by name.
"So, who am I facing?" Alder asked, as he cracked his fingers, and Amelia Bones was the first to step forward.
"Me," and he glanced back at Edgar.
"Why are you looking at him?" she taunted as she whipped out her own wand.
"I am the top graduate of the class, and my second name has nothing to do with it," and he did not doubt that. Though Amelia had only ever sparsely attended the Dueling Club meetings, he had seen her wand work and knew that she was as good as witches got.
The only witches who could perhaps rival her were Lily and Bellatrix. Though she would never get the chance to go against them if he had his say.
"I don't doubt that, but I am not here to beat simple Death Eaters. I am aiming for something higher," and beating her would prove that he belonged here. Beating them all would prove that they needed him far more than he needed them.
"Why don't you all join her?" They all glanced at each other. Quite a few of them were even angered by the humiliation.
"Alder, ple...." Edgar added from behind.
"No. I have made the bet. I will face all six of them at once. And if I lose, I walk out of here, but if I win," and now he was looking him in the eye.
"I get a shot at Voldemort," and he nodded in the end, and so the six graduates all stepped forward.
"You are going to regret this," one of them uttered, as Alder twisted the wand in his hand.
"Don't be an idiot, Dawlish," added the tall black man, as he eyed him cautiously.
"Why? You don't really think he stands a chance against us, do you?" taunted the young man named Dawlish.
"Honestly, as much as I know him, even with six of us. We might just be quite even," and those words landed quite heavily, and even Amelia seemed taken aback.
"Is that so?" she asked, as Alder found himself surrounded by them.
"Let's begin," and with that, Edgar raised his hand and counted them down.
"Three, Two, One..." and with that, he brought down his wands, and the aurors all moved at once as they twisted their wands.
"Expelliarmus," "Stupefy," "Relashio," "Diffindo," "Stupefy..." and the spells came at him at once, and only Shacklebolt seemed to realize their folly as he saw an orange dome surround him as he moved his hand.
"SHIT! GET BACK!" he screamed, as Alder aimed his wand at the ground and used one of his own spells.
"Nifelheim!"
BOOOOM!
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EDGAR BONES
Edgar Bones had made many a mistake in his life. He was the Head of the DMLE, and one doesn't usually reach such a position without breaking a few eggs, yet few of his mistakes weighed more heavily in his mind than the one he had made with Alder Evans.
The simple truth was that he had overestimated their capacity to bring down Voldemort, and his mistake had put the boy's life in danger. Not just that, the scars on his face and the pain in his eyes were a clear reminder of his failure.
He had promised him secrecy, and then he had compromised that secrecy, and his mistake had cost the boy the love of his life. Edgar had seen the carnage at the Express. He had been part of the team that had responded to the distress, and he could never get those sights out of his eyes.
He had watched helplessly as the two titans of the magical world duelled one another at a level that he could never reach, and in that moment, he finally understood the legend and powers of Albus Dumbledore, and along with it came the realization that, as it currently was, the Ministry would never be able to defeat the evil known as Voldemort.
His fears had been proven right in their missions afterwards, and despite permission to use the Unforgivables, their forces were always overpowered by the wizard Voldemort's might.
It was a failure, one that they needed to rectify if they were to stand a chance against his rather open onslaught over their world. The people grew restless as the Ministry failed in its duty to protect their lives and livelihoods.
And the solution to that problem lay in the very mistake which had cost Narcissa Black her life.
"Nifelheim!" and immediately the entire room fell cold, as Edgar stood beside the Minister who seemed taken aback by those words.
"That spell," she gasped, as a thick whitish cloud covered the entire arena where the six Auror Graduates of the academy were facing off against the Ministry's newest recruit.
"It's an ancient spell," Edgar added, as the thick cloud began to clear away, and the ground and the walls were now all covered in ice, and of the six Aurors that had stepped into the arena to face Alder Evans, only three stood now.
"It is supposed to have a rather lengthy chant," and he had looked it up specifically.
"Yet somehow he's git it down to one word," and it was an impressive spell, and being able to use such a spell at such a pace showed Alder's prowess.
Only Shacklebolt and his sister had been able to react to it, as they conjured up appropriate shields to guard them against the cold. The dark-skinned boy had pulled in his friend behind it as well, and now of the six only three remained.
"You haven't changed a bit," Kingsley Shacklebolt uttered as his shield dropped, and despite the praise, Alder Evans stood still as he let them steady themselves.
"Why isn't he attacking them?" and Bagnold had come herself to see the boy in question. Albus Dumbledore may have been able to match the powers of the Dark Lord, but the Hogwarts headmaster was a busy man, and the Ministry could not turn up at his door every time they needed to carry out an operation.
What they needed was a tool that, even if it could not defeat Voldemort, it could keep him occupied long enough for them to subdue and take out the rest of his men.
"He is giving us a show," Crouch answered, as Alder glanced towards the Deputy Chair, before the battle resumed.
Dawlish, Amelia, and Shacklebolt all attacked him at once. Their spells were cast by nothing more than a simple twist of their wands, and yet the barrage did nothing to Alder, whose wand raced through the air, and blocked, parried, and returned most of the fire without him backing down at all.
Spells raced to every corner of the room, and he saw his sisters' frustration grow as she tilted her wand and aimed a spell at his feet.
"Bombarda," and the ground burst up, as Dawlish and Shacklebolt attacked her with a combined attack of their own, and yet in the blink of an eye Alder had vanished from his position and stood right behind the trio with his wand aimed at their backs.
"My turn," and his words started his barrage, and it was unlike those of the three from earlier, and his wand was a blur, but it was not just his wand that moved.
Of all the skills that a wizard could master, there were many that could be taught. If you worked hard enough, you could learn chantless casting. If you worked even harder, then you could cast a spell without even moving your wand.
But there were some skills that simply could not be taught. Most wizards hardly ever learned to cast without moving their wand, or as it was commonly called, 'point casting.'
Casting with a hand was simply impossible to teach. Few wizards could learn to cast without the magical focus of a wand, and yet Alder Evans could do just that.
"Cover me, Dawlish, Kingsley," Amelia called out as she slid back and began whispering a long chant.
But Alder was not going to make it easy. Together, even three of them were having trouble keeping up with him, and with only two left to face his barrage, Dawlish was the first to fall.
"AGHH!" and Dawlish's body flew into Shacklebolt's side, the dark-skinned boy was forced jump back to avoid it, but that little distraction was all Alder had needed as the ground beneath them rose and bound them as if it was cloth winding itself around them, and Amelia tried to intervene.
"Cat through the darkest of clouds," and the air crackled as Amelia raised her wand and cast her spell.
"Tempest!" and lightning raced out of her wand straight towards Alder, and the gamble had paid off, and he could see a triumphant smile on Amelia's face, and Alder would not be able to cast a defensive spell in time.
"He is going to get hit," Bagnold whispered, and much to their surprise, the blonde boy did not budge as he simply raised his hand, and in the next blink the bolt of lightning was rushing towards Amelia again.
"AGHHH!" his sister's scream rang through the arena, as the attack hit and she was sent flying back as her wand rolled to the ground.
"What the hell was that?" Crouch asked as they all rushed towards the field, and the boy in question was staring at his hand, and the skin around it was now all red.
"I still need to work on that," he heard him whisper before he raised his head towards them.
"This should be convincing enough...."
And Bagnold nodded.
"Welcome to the DMLE, Alder Evans!"
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