They would learn or they would die. Every trainee learned; they had to. Ed knew first-hand what could happen even when you could duel like an expert. His older brother was wasting away in St Mungo’s because he’d not been able to protect himself against terrible odds. Ed didn’t want his own aurors to end up in similar situations so for all he seemed like he was playing and being a jerk, there was reason to it.

“Yes!” The Yorkshire man rose from his chair to follow them out of the duelling room. “Go and bond over vomit and icecream! Great plan.” He clapped both girls on the bath and grinned. “Take the afternoon. We get enough earache from Magical Maintenance without adding vomit and collapsed trainees to the regular messes.”

“Don’t tell Carstairs.” Were the Head Auror’s parting words as he marched past the girls in search of something else to delay his return to the building pile of parchment on his desk.