“Right, Blake, come in.” It was first thing in the morning and Edward Pratt, Head Auror at the Ministry of Magic was stood in front of a small mirror in his office debating how best to tackle the porridge down your tie scenario. He could, of course, use scoufigy, but that was one of those spells that he’d never really gotten his head around. His mother had done it until he was living with Quincy. Then she would sort these problems out until they divorced. Then it was his mother again, then Alina, now he was on his own.

A bit of spit did nothing so Ed promptly pulled the tie loose and threw it on the desk, defeated by the basic of basic spells. Ask him to battle and apprehend a dark wizard? Sure! Any day! But to get his son’s porridge out of a silky green tie? Nope, defeated immediately.

He turned to the trainee at his door and gave her a one coffee smile. Because he’d had one coffee. After his second coffee, his smile would be brighter. The second coffee was supposedly in her grasp now. He glanced down to verify. Good girl. Two coffee smile coming up.

“Good morning.” The auror undid his top button and dropped himself into his seat. “Or should I say Goodnight?” A hand was waved at the seat opposite his desk for her to sit and, of course, bring his coffee. “Yer gonna have all the rogues wantin’ a goodnight kiss from ye, lass.”

Fauna hovered in the doorway, gauging Pratt's mood this morning. His tie had offended him, but otherwise he sounded normal. His smile looked normal. Fauna walked in. Instinctively she held her coffee closer to her, tilting her head at his look. She didn't think so! This was her coffee, awful sludge that it was, in her coffee mug with yellow polka dots that Penny had gifted her.

"Morning, Auror Pr-" she started to say, warily.

Good night? Oh no. No, no. This was still a thing. A day or two later, most of the Aurors on Level Two had let it go, but she'd been wondering when her boss would bring it up. Fauna gave him her best puppy dog eyes as she took a seat facing his desk. Her cheeks flushed.

Fauna took a sip of her coffee, her other arm loosely crossed over her stomach. Her gaze strayed to the discarded tie. Who had spilled on it? Most likely Pratt himself. Would explain why he was staring at her coffee cup. Other likely options were that son of his, Norman. Nelson? No, the kid must be at Hogwarts. Nalia! Maybe Nalia had done it. There was an even younger one. Briana? Hm. She sent a mental congratulations to the toddler while trying to ignore the flush creeping onto her cheeks. Bosses should not even mention the word kissing!

"Well, um. I doubt - I mean -"

Fauna cleared her throat.

"They might be wanting but they won't be getting - er."

Fauna shook her head and straightened. "You called me in to talk about something?"

She smiled at him. A half-cup-of-coffee kind of smile.

Not his coffee. Her coffee. That wasn’t sporting. That wasn’t trainee behaviour. Sort herself out but don’t bother with the boss. Where was the team work? Where was the thoughtfulness and caring that Flora Blake was supposed to display in buckets and buckets?

What a disappointing morning!

“Yup!” Ed stood from his desk with his mug in hand. It was a fairly large orange mug. Covering it was the Chudley Canons logo with their motto ‘Let’s just keep our fingers crossed and hope for the best’ spiralling in snazzy writing around the bottom. They weren’t a good team, but Ed rather felt like he, too, lived by their slogan. “I did.” But his cup was empty. He strode to his open door and, as if magically timed, a trainee walked past only to have the mug thrust in his face.

“Yer performance, Blake.” Ed turned back and pushed the door closed. He wasn’t a monster; this needed to be a private conversation even if he was awaiting a refill. “Ye’ve been with us for just over 2 years now,” He didn’t need to consult anything, Pratt knew his staff well. “Most take 3 years to qualify completely.” Dropping back into his seat, the Head Auror crossed his arms, studying the witch. “Do ye think yer on the right track?”

Fauna chuckled under her breath as Pratt shoved his coffee mug at some unsuspecting peon passing in the corridor.

Her expression sobered as he closed the door. Uh oh.

When he mentioned her performance and her time on Level Two, she nodded, having expected some sort of conversation and review around the Pilpher case. Privately, she'd been hoping it would come from Trevelyan or Roh. As Pratt settled into his seat, she shifted in hers.

"Yes," she managed, meeting his eyes. Fauna started to cross her arms in turn, then deliberately, somewhat awkwardly rested her elbows on the armrests, balancing the coffee cup in her hand. Her feet betrayed her by curling under the chair and crossing at the ankles.

"I have some things to work on, but overall, I think I'm doing well." She paused, then added, "I get along with the other trainees and Aurors. I'm here, putting in the work."

Hufflepuffs showed up, stayed late, and tended to play well with others. That wasn't enough, of course. But Fauna knew better than to start rattling off everything she did well, knew better than to offer nothing at all. Pratt would tell her what he wanted to know and what he thought. She raised her eyebrows at him, ignoring the flip-flopping of her nervous stomach and the stubborn blush remaining on her face.

“Putting in the work.” Auror Pratt repeated thoughtfully. He picked up his quill and began to scribble onto a sheet of parchment before him.

“Works well with others. Tries hard.”

He paused, next line.

“Is here.”

The knock at the door paused him in the poor list making and Ed yelled for it to open. In walked trainee whatshisname with coffee. Out walked trainee whatshisname without coffee. Ed sipped the coffee and looked at Trainee Flora Blake.

“Crap report, this will be, Flora.” He put his quill back down. “I send this to Carstairs and we both know he’ll be sendin’ it back and then we’ll ‘ave to do this all over again. Blah blah blah.”

“Oh!” As if he had an idea, Ed put his coffee on the desk and took up his quill once more, dipping it in the ink and taking quill to parchment.

“Things…to…work…on. Can’t forget that one.”

Fauna stared at Pratt, frozen in her chair as he started to scribble on parchment. That didn't look like a memo. He was repeating everything she'd said. Why was it that whenever someone repeated her, she sounded like a complete doofus. She didn't sound like a doofus in her own head.

"Um, really?" She muttered, leaning forward in her seat to peer at his desk, her limbs close together, back hunched.

Fauna straightened a little and looked forlornly at the trainee as he deposited the coffee and went out the door. Lucky him.

Carstairs. He was sending this list to Carstairs. Either he was being serious, or he was joking with her and could become serious, or he was joking and would feel offended if she didn't take it as a joke. So many annoying possibilities.

"Is this an early performance review so early in the morning? That's nice," Fauna said with a smile that had dwindled to her drop-of-coffee-smile. She crossed her arms. Whatever.

"That's great," she nodded.

"You might want to add a column for Times I've Kept My Sanity. It feels, you know, relevant right now."

Fauna shot him a look, brought her coffee mug to her mouth, and angry-sipped.

Ooooh, the dragon had been poked. Pupy dog eyes had changed to angry puppy eyes and Fauna was angry sipping like an angry little kitten who planned to sharper her incy wincy claws on his legs. Not that they’d hurt, Flora’s claws were practically blunt. She’d lick him instead. That was exactly the problem he was dealing with. He needed claws and instead, he got a salivating puppy.

But then she bit back! Not a crazy scary bite. More of a little nip. A terrier nip nip nipping at your ankles. Ed smiled his just-over-one-coffee smile.

“Sir. ’It feels relevant right now, Sir.’ Don’t forget who yer addressin’, Blake.” He took a casual gulp of his second cup of coffee. “Anyway, when have ye managed that, Flora? Not 2 days ago, definitely.”

One might assume that Edward Pratt relished peeving his trainees, especially this particular one. He did, just a little. Mostly, he was doing them a favour. If Blake couldn’t handle him, how the hell was she going to handle herself when face to face with a dark witch or wizard?
“Let’s start there. What activities and techniques do ye engage in to keep your sanity? With examples. It’s an important skill for an auror, to keep yer cool. How do ye manage it?”

Flora-Fauna slumped a little in her seat, nodding slightly at his reminder. Both reminders. One, to respect him; two, what this was actually about. She'd known this was about the Pilpher case as soon as he'd said good night. He could have opened with that, instead of pretending to write a memo to the Bigger Boss.

Oh, she hated this. She didn't know how many times she'd wished for a normal conversation, just one, with her boss. The problem with Sir Pratt was that he couldn't separate his Auror mindset from his Boss mindset, approached everything as if it were a prank or an interrogation, and assumed all trainees eventually grew from humiliation. Every time she sat in this office, she felt she'd stepped back into time, into the muddy shoes of that shy, awkward Hogwarts student. She couldn't tell him that. He wouldn't listen.

"Examples," she set her coffee mug down and let out a breath. Ugh, he was serious!

Fauna stared unhappily into space for a moment, then straightened again. Actually yes, two days ago. "Ok. Sir. I guess with the Fig - uh, Sellaphix questioning, I'd remind myself of who he was and where he came from. Not always consciously, but I knew about his Dad, I knew he was protective of his family, I knew he avoids personal stuff. Answering questions would be harder for him. I tried to keep that in mind."

Empathizing helped her keep calm. Until she felt too much. She sipped at her coffee and glanced away for a moment.

"Other times I'd have to not think about him as Fig at all. Especially when he brought up personal things."

Like drinking at the pub together. Fauna refused to bring that up with Pratt. "If I thought of him as a friend, I wouldn't have been able to focus. When he mentioned me or Raine, I'd change the subject like I would with any other suspect. Or I'd hop from question to question until he answered something."

Yeah, she'd lost her cool and yelled at Fig and stormed out of the interrogation room once. Thanks to Roh, she'd also walked in again and finished it up. Seven hours? Eight hours? The whole thing had taken eight hours of holding onto her sanity.

"So actually yes, two days ago," Fauna raised her eyebrows, cradling her coffee mug in her hands like a mini Protego.

Perhaps they might agree to disagree about Fauna having kept her cool two days ago. Ed thought she’d performed well below his expectations of her, she thought it was satisfactorily. He wasn’t going to beat a dead hippogriff to force her to see the truth, it would be pointless and a waste of his energy and time.

Silently, he scribbled a few notes on the parchment, his head giving a couple of nods.
“So, this kid is a friend.” He looked up from the notes and once more, sat back in the chair, arms crossed as he studied the girl. “How was that? Couldn’t have been easy arrestin’ yer mate. Tell me about it.” She would think that he was trying to press her buttons and annoy her, he preferred to think of it as actually doing his job. Trainees were the future of the auror corps, they needed to be made of sturdy stuff, they needed to weather

“We’ve all been there, Blake, those situations which force us to challenge our priorities for the job.” Ed had experienced his fair share of it himself, he understood the difficulty.

Fauna looked at Pratt, her brows drawing together. Was he trying to be nice now? No. It was a trap. Or a test. Or a bloody trap-test. She'd believe it from Tulo, who talked like that and meant it, but most Aurors were dead inside. Her major goal in life was to become dead inside. Fauna sometimes wondered what exactly was wrong with her.

"Um, it was hard?" She shrugged one tense shoulder, watching him write down every doofy thing she said. "Confusing. I think I made it confusing for both of us. It took me several minutes just to get him to come in willingly, I mean to the Ministry. We were outside his workplace."

She really did not want to tell her boss that she'd sent Fig an owl asking him to meet her there. Fauna understood now that she'd made a mistake.

"Is it better to be all business about it, sir? Because Fig did not understand that. And when I acted like his friend he didn't take me seriously."

She sipped her coffee, partially curious and partially hoping to direct his attention off of her. Pratt loved to prattle!

Sitting back in his chair, the Head Auror remained silent for a moment as he considered her question. He remembered the war, when they’d had to investigate their own. He remembered, as a newly qualified auror, sitting in on investigations into his colleagues. Any friendships had been pushed aside as business and a necessary need to remain professional had taken over. Blake would hopefully never experience such an intense situation. She would, with any luck, be a peacetime auror.

“You need to draw a line, Blake.” Pratt muttered, perfectly serious now. Some lessons could be learnt with a joke and a jibe. Some needed a sterner, more forceful and serious hand. Blake needed guiding by a mentor right now, not being burned anymore by her boss. “Set out your priorities now. You might be about to become a fully-fledged auror, and we are amazing, but we’re still human. We have friends and families and baggage. How much of that baggage are you going to carry with you to work?”

“When ye can, avoid gettin’ into a situation like that. When possible, I wouldn’t step into an interrogation room with a friend. Not worth it. If you have to? Which do you value more, lass? Your job and the law, or your friendship?”

She straightened in her seat at his stern tone, sipping at her coffee and mostly listening. Fauna understood this serious side of Pratt better than she understood the joking side, and preferred it, unless he started yelling at her. In which case she didn't prefer any side at all.

Her brow furrowed. Fauna refrained from pointing out that Pratt had literally carried his baggage into work, hauling in his pack of toddler terrors. He wouldn't appreciate the reminder.

"Avoid it?" Fauna murmured, unable to see how it could have been avoided with Fig. As lead on the case, it had been her responsibility to handle the questioning, and she'd intended to bring Fig in to rule him out, but it had turned into a circus show.

Fauna met Pratt's eyes. Did he want her to answer honestly? Did he want her to answer at all?

"You're saying I have to prepare for this kind of situation to happen again," she paused. She didn't mean Fig, specifically. Merlin, she hoped not.

"When it happens, I guess I'll be," she hesitated, "redrawing that line."

The corners of her mouth softened, but her eyes were serious. If she was about to become a fully-fledged Auror, that meant dedicating herself to it and following a code and drawing a strong line. She wanted to become an Auror more than anything. She also knew that if there ever came a day when her own values didn't line up with Level Two's, and she started to become someone she didn't want to be, she'd have to walk away from all of this.

Could she? Fauna didn't like to think about it.