Obsidian (Harry Potter Fan Fiction, Sequel to the Lazuli Trilogy)

Five - Scorpius

I banged my head on the desk, letting out a resolute groan as a few sheets of paper from the mountain of paperwork in front of me flew off and onto the wooden floor.

Nobody saw this side of being an Auror - I certainly hadn't when I'd started my training - but with every mission came a stack of paperwork to be filled in. No wonder Uncle Harry has so many assistants who do this sort of thing for him; he was far too busy to be pilled up with this much paperwork.

I boredly flicked my wand at the pieces of paper that had flown off the desk onto the floor of the small office I shared with Marcel, and watched as they levitated into the air and flew back to the top of the pile, landing neatly and in the perfect order.

I cast my eyes next to the clock on the wall, a clock that I'm certain one of my friends had enchanted to move extra slowly, just to annoy me. It seemed like the sort of thing that Marcel in particular would do; he and I had loved trying to find ways to wind each other up even when we were children. Still, that didn't stop me from throwing a scrunched up piece of paper at the clock in the hope of knocking it off the wall and falling onto the floor, smashing into a thousand pieces. But although my throw hit strong and true, there was no effect. Marcel had probably enchanted it never to break too.

The most irritating thing was that I loved my job; at least, I enjoyed the field work. The thrill of tracking down criminals and bringing them to justice was something that I had revelled in, and the capture of Dolohov the other night had been the icing on top of the cake. I'd already been and purchased 8 copies of the Daily Prophet, and spent the good part of an hour this morning showing anybody who'd listen my picture on the front page. It was something special for a newly qualified Auror to bring down one of the most dangerous Death Eaters still lose; the only one who'd ever done the same thing was Uncle Harry of course, although he did have an advantage over everybody, since he had brought down Voldemort after all.

Still, I'd cut out the newspaper clipping from each of the eight papers, attaching one of them to my CV, sending another to Mum and Dad, another to Grandma and Grandad Black, another to Grandma and Grandad Weasley, another to Grandmother and Grandfather Malfoy, the sixth to Uncle Charlie in Romania, one to Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione and then I kept the last for myself. It felt amazing see your face everywhere, to hear your name on everyone's lips. A few children had stopped me on my way to work this morning asking for my autograph, and I of course had obliged. I'd never understand why Uncle Harry hated his fame; being famous was amazing.

The door of the office opened, and in strode Marcel - my colleague and best friend - juggling a stack of folders in one arm and a hot butterbeer in the other hand. He hurried to place the butter beer down along with the folders, and then cast a glance over his shoulder at me as he set his messenger bag down.

"You still alive beneath all those forms?" he asked with a mocking tone. I groaned loudly, "just about, want to be a mate and do them for...?"

"Oh no," Marcel interrupted me, taking a seat at his own desk and reaching for his drink. "I've got enough work of my own, besides, if you want to be this bigshot auror, you've got to do the paperwork."

I huffed loudly. "But I'm rubbish at office work! Why have they stuck me in here filling in forms about capturing Death Eaters when I should be out there, actually capturing Death Eaters!" I pointed outside of the office for dramatic effect, but Marcel just raised his eyebrows.

"Out there? That's a room full of aurors, Scor. I doubt there will be any Death Eaters out there, but why not go and have a look; if you catch one, double the paperwork when you come back!"

I chucked another scrunched up piece of paper at him, hitting him square in the jaw. "Oww, oww! That hurt; that's basically treason!" Marcel squealed as he raised his hands to cover his face protectively.