The War is On

All those on the ninth floor of the ministry were oblivious to the weather outside - Magical Maintenance wasn't even allowed to come into the Department of Mysteries on account of the highly secret nature of the area, though they were permitted to pass through to the Justice Department: Criminal Courts, to ensure that the chains were kept fully enchanted and cleaned. Many of them had little interest in what was behind the black door, though they would occasionally speculate. Even those who had no interest or thought as to what the Department may be doing, however, were curious and even concerned about the sounds of battle coming from the bowels of the Department. To hear curses in this area was common, and indeed generally ignored, however, around once a month - and sometimes more frequently than that - the battle would grow so loud and fierce that Magical Law Enforcement would use a secure connection via Floo to bring in reinforcements in case the defensive charms (installed by the Minister, the Duke of London, and the Headmaster of Hogwarts,) actually failed, and the security of the ministry was threatened. The entire Ministry shook when such a battle occurred, and on one occasion had to be evacuated when Albus Dumbledore, current Headmaster of Hogwarts, was lightly wounded while trying to defuse the situation.

Those working within the Department would often put into operation alert charms so that they could soundproof their workspaces - they were often deafened by the failure of the admittedly weak soundproofing in the specially designed training room and vowed to one day implement an additional charm with their combined efforts to ensure that these two wizards could not continue to deafen them.

The curses were cast almost as though they left the wands on their own, rather than by the intention of the duellers. The man in black robes moved to various points around the marked area that surrounded his opponent, sending curses that sometimes appeared to come from thin air, while the man in golden robes stood virtually stock-still, though he twirled often in response to his partner's movements, ducking and swaying only occasionally to avoid some of the more powerful curses. Both were aware, however, that the other was not the enemy - this was a training effort, and for them a form of therapy. Their most recent mission - to capture any Death Eaters who happened to attack Diagon Alley on the best-guess dating given by one of their spies within the third level of command in Voldemort's circle - had failed rather miserably. They, and their two closest friends, had been sent, expecting a small force of around 8-12 Death Eaters. When the Apparition wards had failed, however, they had been shocked to discover more than thirty Death Eaters, with a support force of ten Dementors and five vampires - of which only one Dementor and four Death Eaters, none of whom were even fifth-level command and therefore of little, if any use, to the Ministry.

Through the one-way mirror at the end of the room, two supervisors wearing navy-blue robes bearing the crown and portcullis of Magical Law Enforcement, backed by a black square indicating the primary concern of those housed in the Aurors Society's expansive halls - dark magic. They watched, the duellers intently, noting each curse and counter-curse in their specialist shorthand. The entry of a seldom-seen figure to the main hall caused them to start, but they continued to take notes.

The man in gold was the first to notice - Mr. Patterson had entered the room. The large man who had clearly been forced into a desk job took out his own wand and moved quite openly toward the same marked area as the black-robed wizard almost flew around. On reaching the perimeter, he muttered a barrier spell - and both duellists were hit by the very spells they had been trying to cast.

"So, Potter, Black - what happened?" murmured the large man as the partners lifted themselves from the ground. The man in gold - James Potter - was the first to respond.

"Too many of them sir. Professor Dumbledore would like to requisition your best five, but they have to take a crash course in tactics - as you may remember, the Headmaster is less than orthodox," he grinned, with his eyes flicking toward the mirror.

"Mark, you must surely understand that when faced with any Death Eater one must simply cast jelly-legs, belly-scratch, and nose-hair ringlets before running like hell away - especially if he's ever learned a shield charm like that," mumbled a grinning, scaly Sirius Black. "When does the Order need to be here to learn it?"

"I seem to recall a previous attempt to teach it to you, Black - your Uncle Alphard would be turning in his grave if he could see what sort of mess his old place was in afterwards, don't you think? Anyway, it's like a blood-curse - one must be a Patterson to cast it at all. My own Uncle Dakron, however, wanted to cast an impregnable shield spell - the spell can deflect even the Killing Curse if cast by a werewolf, but when he was reading the family history he forgot to read two lines later. When cast by a werewolf, the family shield charm is useless in duelling bouts where a sword of magic is used - particularly if the caster creates a physical sword. Those, as I believe your friend has learned to his great advantage, are always silver," smiled Patterson, apparently oblivious to the dark look that appeared suddenly on Sirius' face. "He got himself bitten, and went to find Voldemort - and was forced to duel by wand-swords,

"Yeah - that's because when you were Lupin's personal supervisor you had him involved almost daily in those ridiculous duels with people who could handle those muggle things you called sabres as though they were born carrying them!" bellowed the young man.

"Quiet down, Grimmauld - remember the only reason that any of us has access to the ministry at all, not to mention where our paycheques come from," murmured James. "I may be Chief Representative of the Order to MLE, but I still can't keep you out of a cell if you insult the Head of the Auror's Society."

"James, I won't need to put him in a cell - simply because he should have been there ten years ago, for what he said then about my father, yet now look at him. One of the top-earning Aurors I've ever had the misfortune of knowing," Patterson responded with amusement. "Pity, really - we've got some rather higher-security cells than we did when you guys were training, but Millicent - apologies, I mean Minister Bagnold - won't let me recall the lot of you to let you try to get out of them. And James, your lovely wife worked such a beautiful charm that it really is a shame to waste it on these failures we call trainees - most of them are too scared of facing Voldemort to stand up to even Lockhart's pathetic Veritas curse - but at least he'll fight if he has to, the entire Enforcement Patrol can help if need be, yet our damn recruits are too scared to train," he continued dryly.

"Well, we can take your five best Aurors for Order training - or your ten best trainees can join us, but only if they're willing to sign a wavier accepting that their trainers bear no responsibility whatsoever for any deaths that occur," said James casually, " we won't be too worried, and it'll certainly help the rest train better. It was through the pain you caused him that Remus was able to deflect everything that the Headmaster was able to throw at him a year after he was a qualified Auror - and the main reason that he was admitted to the Order was his skill with both legal curses and fencing." At this, Patterson looked pensive, and went to ask the question that those he was considering sending to the special command centre set up by the Order were sure to ask him.

"I'm just thinking - what does Albus think of taking ten scared kids and killing them?"

"That, Patterson, should be obvious to you - he damn well suggested it!" guffawed James, and he was joined by Sirius when they both saw the stunned look on Patterson's face.