Finley Shacklebolt

Aaron Burr, Sir

“I didn’t know it had to go up that far,” Julian said slowly, processing what Finley had informed him about how his hands were tied. If Julian felt anxious energy upon meeting him, there was something in the other man’s countenance that forced him to scale back this excitement—though only a tad. Instead of annoyance, Julian picked up on hopelessness—or perhaps what he said just exacerbated the emotion that Julian had been feeling for weeks. “But certainly you’ve tried to make changes, right? Even small ones?”

The unfortunate reality of wizarding law was that its governing bodies were so much against change that if Julian wanted to make change—not that he even knew what kind of change—it didn’t make sense for him to work in the Ministry. But he was so desperate to be more than what he was now, as he continued to sink slowly out of the Quidditch communities he had been established in. But if there’s a fire he’s trying to douse, he can’t put it out from inside the house….

“Yes.” Julian’s response was automatic, as if he had been prepared for that question to have been asked. He shouldn’t expect Finley to help him. They were hardly more than acquiantances, after all. It sounded a little like there had been a seat for grabs, so he took it. As unsure as he was, because the Ministry was so damn expansive with a hand on every aspect of magical life, he didn’t want to sound like it. “I was actually at the Auror office today and I picked up an application.”

“Well, it’s complicated. Certainly we could make our own changes but it would mean our players having to play by two sets of rules - one in the leagues here and another when playing with players abroad. The Ministry are reluctant to enforce something like that.” Finley wasn’t sure if Julian was still pushing this in attempt to find a loophole to pass whatever changes he wanted but Finley didn’t really care. He could try if he wanted to. He wouldn’t succeed. 

“Yes well, I did wonder about simply changing the standard material we make bludgers out of. They’re iron you know, but there’s all kinds of materials that muggles make balls out of which are much less likely to cause serious injury. Thought it was at least worth introducing at Hogwarts, but there’s a lot of red tape to get around. It’s expensive. Quidditch players and Ministry officials are a stubborn bunch.” He waved his hand as if to rid the air between them of the idea he had once pitched to the council. It had been years ago now, early in his career. He had since learnt what was possible to get past a Ministry council and what would simply be too much work for them to even consider. They liked the path of least resistance which was almost always keeping things the way they were. “Enough about that anyway, silly idea. Broken bones can be fixed easily with a competent healer.”

“You’re applying to be an auror?” That was something that Finley could actually help with. Perhaps Julian had done more research on him than it initially appeared. “And what do you want from me? Help in the process? There’s only so much I can give without appearing to be playing favourites.”

Evan didn’t like coming to the Ministry because he felt like every single person in there could see right through him. It was as if the word ‘Rosier’ was stamped on his forehead, no dark mark necessary. There wasn’t a wizarding family in London that didn’t know that name, and those same families also had no idea what his father had done. He might as well be a Death Eater himself. After spending a day there painting, he’d taken himself to the Leaky Cauldron to try and forget, but he walked right into more Ministry workers. It was like they were absolutely haunting him and he didn’t know what he did to deserve this, but there were no open spaces at the bar.

“Just trying to forget the weirdest day at the Ministry, but…the world won’t let me…anyway. How are you?”

Finley raised an eyebrow at the other man’s comment, curious as to what had happened. “Really? Were you there on buisness?” Finley always tried his best to remember names and faces. He hated being in a situation where he felt rude, not knowing who was who but there were so many people working at the Ministry and even more that visited for business he struggled to remember all but those he dealt with on a weekly basis. 

“I’m good thank you - working on a presentation for some new recruits, but I’m sure you don’t want to hear about that.”

Mia shook her head, “I’m also not twelve anymore, Finley.” She said, thinking about how weird it was that he had known her as that scared twelve-year-old. Her ambition had always outweighed her fear though, which is how she ended up knocking out one of Slytherin’s chasers during try-outs. “You knew me before I was old enough to start with this stuff. Besides, if you were and you told me not to drink, I’d just tell you to fuck off.”

“Oh you will eventually, I’m sure of it,” Mia said, remembering the man’s ambition being on par with her own. He had inspired her as her captain, made her want the position herself. Which she got of course. When he said the comment about finding it boring, she had to stifle her laugh, “I mean, maybe a bit. But I’ve known nothing other than quidditch so who knows.”

“No, you’re not twelve anymore...” He struggled not to still view her as a child who needed guidance. In the year they knew each other at Hogwarts that had always been how Finley had viewed her. He wanted to help her, steer her in the right direction, and he felt as captain he had at least somewhat helped guide her. Perhaps that was just an inflated ego. “I guess I better have a drink with you then,” he said raising his fingers to get a waiter’s attention and ordering a glass of firewhiskey. 

“And where will your ambition take you? You’d make a fine coach when your professional playing days are over. Although I suppose that’s a long time off yet.”

Leah smiled and looked at how the man placed all the paperwork inside the briefcase. “My father said the same” chuckled Leah “But every night he stayed up until midnight just writing and correcting things for work” smiled Leah. “I’ll be happy doing any of this things, really, but I don’t know I think that working with death eaters is the one I really want to do” Leah said “I don’t know after all the stories about the Battle of Hogwarts, I really want to help people” said Leah, remembering her grandmother and dad telling her stories about that tragedy.

A rueful smile appeared on Finley’s face when Leah spoke of her father, knowing he was exactly the same. Always talking about a healthy work life balance, but never actually achieving it. All too often he found himself drawn in by his work, and without any hobbies or someone at home to keep in grounded, he gave into these desires. “Sometimes midnight is the best time to get things done.”

“Then we’ll have made progress!  Whatever shall we work our way through next?” he mused, looking up from his menu with a teasing grin.  It was easy being out with Finley.  As long as they looked respectable, acted mostly respectable, their evenings out were simple.  It was a veneer for the people watching.  Whatever they chattered about when they were ensconced was entirely their own affair.  “Suit yourself darling,” he murmured.  Though a nice bit of bass did sound delectable…

“Americans and people who vote Labour,” Albus replied almost instantly, his eyes bright and amused.  “Come now, pre dinner drinks have been in fashion for literally a century at this point.  Don’t tell me you’re still settled firmly around the Edwardian table?” he asked with a laugh.  He eyed the smaller menu in Finley’s hands, the wine list no doubt, and flashed a grin.  “If they’ve a blanc de noir from 2016, take that.  Vintage was spectacular by all accounts.” 

“You know I always thought I might be a whiskey guy. Can’t stand the stuff though. Maybe we should work our way through that next, find one I like or at least build a tolerance. You seem like the kind of man to know his whiskeys though.” Finley thought of Albus as a rich kid with a decadent lifestyle. He suspected that the Potter children largely lived off their father’s money and were accustomed to the finer things in life. All assumptions, but the way that Albus had knowledge of fine dining was enough for Finley to believe he was correct. 

Finley snorted at Albus’ reply, continuing to look at the man, amused. “Well I’m sorry if my family haven’t caught up to pre dinner cocktails yet. You know my father is Minister of Magic, he works very hard. A proper job, unlike, what? Head of the Auror department. I’m betting he spends most of his time cleaning up the messes the young Aurors make.” Finley liked to tease, he himself working in the law enforcement department he couldn’t talk. Especially now he was working closely with the Aurors themselves. He ordered as Albus had suggested and sat back in his seat, getting comfortable and looking over at his friend. “Tell me, what are you working on these days?” 

Mia suddenly felt like a scared little second year again, the baby on the quidditch team, as she stood in front of her former captain. She remembered her tryout like it was yesterday, and how her fear was nothing compared to the sheer force of will she felt clutching the her bat. Seemed like forever ago. It had been ten years. 

She smiled as she sat down, “More like it’s killing me. I can barely walk right now. Hence this,” she pointed to her drink. “What about you, Mr. Ministry? You running that place yet?”

Finley knew that feeling all to well. During practice and games he never really felt his injuries - he was often running on pure adrenaline. But, like many of the other players, once that high wore off, bruises would appear and his limbs would ache. “I don’t miss that. You know alcohol isn’t a good solution though-” he caught himself saying this and chuckled raising his hands in surrender before she could even saying anything, “-I’m not your captain anymore though. Do as you please Mia.”

“Oh no, not running the place at all.” He gave a laugh at the idea he could’ve risen so quickly. If only that were the way. He slyly added “well, not yet anyway.” Anyone who knew Finley knew his ambition. “Still in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. I know you quidditch types might find that very dull, but at least I’m not hit by a bludger every day.”

Leah shook his hand nervously. “Yeah I’m so excited to start again” smiled looking at the man in front of her “ Sounds good, actually” Leah said getting more excited. Leah always loved training and she just wanted to end the training program to start working hard as an official Auror. “I-I’m always up for hearing things about the Auror thing” smiled “But sir, I don’t want to annoy you anymore” said nervously “I’m sure you have better… or at least more important things to do rather than talking to me” said politely.

It was clear that she was nervous and he did his best to offer a reassuring smile, brushing away the idea that he had more important things to do. “Not at all.” As he spoke he gathered his paper work putting it away in his briefcase. He wouldn’t get anymore done tonight anyway, he’d have to finish off tomorrow. “I try to keep my work only in the office-” he never managed this “-so it’s a good reminder to stop for the day anyway. I’m happy to discuss your training with your further though. Are there any specialities within the Auror department you’re interested in? I know some Aurors want to catch any bad guys, but some are interested in say, forged artefacts, catching those whole distribute illegal dragon eggs, maybe work on some of the cold death eater cases.”

Aaron Burr, Sir

–

Julian took the invitation to take a seat, even if he were interrupting the other man’s evening meal. He himself wasn’t hungry—or not for food, anyway. The waitress brought him a buttered slice of bread and some water, though he made no move to eat the meager meal he had ordered that evening. If he really wanted to eat, he had food at home. Like fruit or something.

There was a bit of adrenaline rush in having a proper conversation with someone who could listen to him. Not that Julian was sure of what he was going to say; Finley was quick to direct the conversation. It wasn’t that Julian hadn’t anticipated that Finley was no longer the Department of Magical Games and Sports. He hadn’t followed the younger Shacklebolt so closely, making much less waves than his father.

“I mean, yes, bludgers, they’re awful—are you saying that rule changes aren’t a good idea?” Julian couldn’t think of a way his own injury could have been prevented—he knew that bludgers were a risk, a part of the game—that much he agreed with. But Finley got to walk away when Julian was forced to do so; it felt like there was already a lack of sympathy from him on the matter.

If Finley was telling him that he needed to look for someone else, then who was Julian supposed to go to? There had to be someone that Finley had talked to when he first got into the government work. “Once you left the team though, you ended up at the Ministry—so how’d you do it? How’d you move up so fast? You know, now that you’re not with the department anymore?”

Finley sighed heavily when Julian asked about rule changes, putting down his knife and fork and finally giving his full attention to the other man. So it was going to be like this. “I’m not saying that rule changes are a bad idea, simply that I cannot enforce them, and even then the Department of Magical Games and Sports has it’s hands tied. The England quidditch team plays by national rules, and therefore local teams do too if they ever want players in the national team or the compete against foreign teams. If you have a problem with the rules bring it up with the international quidditch association. The ministry has no business policing those rules.” It was something he had explained on many occasions and it was getting tiresome, especially that he had to repeat this years after leaving his position within the Games and Sports department. 

It became clear though that Finley had his wires crossed when Julian started asking about how he got his job at the ministry. Was the other man looking for advice on how to do the same?

“My best skill on the pitch was my ability to form a strategy. The Ministry are always looking for logical and strategic thinkers, and having a background in quidditch helps an application to the Magical Games and Sport department. And then my interests changed. A position in the department of magical law enforcement opened up and I went for it.” Mentioning that his father secured the interview for his first position there didn’t seem important to Finley. “Are you considering applying?”

“Would now be a bad time to give you more papers?” Victoire could tell by his expression would be a bad time, but she was already here, and he had already seen her. “Sorry,” she said, slipping into the side of the booth opposite of him. “It sucks you got stuck with this, but if you need any help, let me know.” to be frank, she didn’t want to talk about ministry stuff, she wanted to talk about almost anything else, but the papers in his hands seemed like a good start. A waitress, who had seen her switch tables, brought her a large butterbeer, she sips it, waiting for Finley’s response. 

“Oh, Victoire. Seriously? More?” He said with an exasperated sigh when she approached. Finley was already working flat out and somehow to work kept piling up for him, and no matter how much he managed to finish more landed on his desk. “No, it’s fine. Not your fault. I’ll finish it tomorrow. I’m sure I can move some things around...” He took a moment to pack the paperwork she’d given him and the paper he’d already been working on into his briefcase, making a note to send an apology to the chair of the meeting he was going to miss tomorrow. Finally he looked up. “Sorry, I don’t mean to be rude. How are you?”

Pardon me, are you Aaron Burr, sir?

Dominique was the one who said that he could work at the Ministry and it didn’t take much convincing for Julian to make his way there and get lost in the Atrium. Most of the day was spent staring at the list of departments and feeling his heart pang at the Department of Magical Games and Sports.

He did make some headway with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement; he somehow managed to make it into Harry Potter’s book for a meeting later that week, more on the basis of being a family friend than for any actual business.

Unfortunately, the bar was devoid of the barmaid; Dominique was friends with the chef in the back and if Julian asked very politely he could get a cauldron cake from a secret menu so secret he was sure it didn’t exist. Instead Julian found himself waving hello to someone he sort of knew.

He was less of a friend and more of an ally. Finley Shacklebolt’s career, as far as Julian could remember, took a hard left when the Magpies recruited him. Slytherin had been ruthless on the pitch when he had been captain, but with a name like that, Quidditch wasn’t going to be his endgame. While Finley still visited the team occasionally (with Julian having to learn how to be a beater for a practice session or two) it wasn’t like the two of them really talked much off the pitch.

But he did what Julian had set out to do! Get some boring non-Quidditch job at an office!

“Hello—er, Mr. Shacklebolt, sir—I’ve been looking for you.”

“Wood, it’s nice to see you.” Finley greeted the other man with a brief smile, pushing the chair next to him out for Julian to take a seat in. The pair had only met a handful of times - Finley had left the team before Julian had joined, and for the years immediately after his departure, Finley had stayed away, preferring to focus on his new job and his new life. It was easier that way. As time had passed eventually Finled had felt the call to return and on occasion to meet his old teammates, and the new joiners too. He kept up to date with the news surrounding The Montrose Magpies - even if he was no longer a member, he would always be a fan - and had read of each member who joined and left. He had read of Julian’s accident on the pitch too, although it seemed unclear if he were to be returning. Finley secretly suspected not. Quidditch injuries were often brutal and he had met many ex-players who had left the sport for that reason. With all the fresh players that Hogwarts were churning out though, the high turn over rate kept the sport fresh and new blood moving through it. It was a loss for the individual player of course, but the team replaced them soon enough and everyone moved on.

“Yes, can I help you with something?” Finley couldn’t see what exactly he’d be able to help Julian with. “I don’t work in the Department of Magical Games and Sports anymore I’m afraid, so if you’re looking for someone who can help you there you’re going to have to look elsewhere.” He had occasionally had ex-players with injuries approach him asking for more rules to be enforced in the Quidditch league. They wanted to make sure no one else got hurt the way that they had and for stricter rules about bludgers to be introduced. Finley could only assume that was what Julian wanted, and headed him off early. “If I can offer you some free advice, I wouldn’t bother approaching the department either. There aren’t going to be any rule changes, try as you like. You’d only be wasting your own time. Quidditch is a dangerous sport, we all knew that when we signed up to play. Bludgers do what bludger do. Injuries happen.”

This was an old game for them, the song and dance as they moved between Apparation point and restaurant.  The demure smiles, the no comments and evasions to the press.  Albus even dressed up for the occasions, foregoing some of his usual personal flair.  He looked downright suave!  If only he could keep his tongue from being quite as sharp as his suit, but that ship had sailed ages ago.  He flashed Finley a pleased glance, letting the other man usher him into the restaurant.  The smile shifted to something more normal, sharp and teasing once the doors were closed and the sounds of the reporters had faded away.  

“Champagne yes.  I do love champagne, and this place has an excellent list,” he mused, eyes bright and teasing.  “But lobster?  No, no I’m feeling more turf tonight.  Dry aged and half a cow methinks.” He snickered and followed the waiter back to their table, noting the window that would allow a few surreptitious glances and photographers to snap some shots.  Mean’s he had to keep a little poise.  He settled into a chair, smiling and taking a menu.  “Cocktails first or are we going to save that to linger over the pudding?” he asked, amused as hell.  The best parts of these nights were the insane amount of fodder he had for stories with his friend, a good meal, and the lively conversation with Finley.  It was good getting an inside glance at the Ministry’s upper echelons and whatever chicanery they were up to.  

“Soon we’re going to have tried every Champagne worth trying,” Finley grumbled as they were lead to the table. He didn’t mind really. He loved the luxury of a glass of champagne, and he liked drinking with Albus - despite all his grumblings about it. Finley didn’t have many friends, and even if Albus was essentially paid to hang out with him, he counted Albus as one of them. “You can have whatever kind of steak you want, I’m sticking to a fish dish though. Something light.” And less expensive. 

Finley took his seat, folding the napkin over his lap and reading over the wine list to find the perfect champagne. This he didn’t mind splurging on. “Cocktails over pudding, I’m not an animal. Really Albus, who starts a civilised meal with cocktails?” 

Mia clutched her drink in her hand. After a long day of practice drills, her body was begging her to sit down. The only problem was every damn seat was full. She should have known better to grab a drink at the Leaky Cauldron during this time of day. All she wanted was to sit down and drink and forget about how badly her left side hurt. 

“Mind if I sit?” She asked, pointing to the empty seat in front of him.

Finley was surprised when he looked up to see Mia, even if it took him a moment to recognise her. It had been a long time and the memory of her at Hogwarts made him grin widly nodding at the empty seat. “Of course!” Mia had joined the Slytherin Quidditch team in his last year at the school but he could still remember her try-out. He had made him so eager to recruit her to the team after watching her on the pitch, she was the perfect secret weapon - she had only been a second year and seemed so small and innocent but when she got that beater’s club in her hand she was a force to be reckoned with. 

After he left school Finley had left many of his friends behind and hadn’t spoken to Mia, but he’d followed her Quidditch career with interest, proud to see how far she had come. “It’s so good to see you Mia, still killing it on the pitch?”

“Hm?” Lorcan blinked, eyes refocusing where they’d begun to glaze over. “Oh, was I staring? That happens. Oops. It’s just that, I only meant to stand here for a moment, but then, I…on second thought, never mind. The thought process would take too long to explain.” She shook her hands in front of her, like she was just waving the whole thing away. Better she did that then try to explain how she managed to zone out just standing around. She doubted he would want to hear the story. “You look about as thrilled with whatever it is you’re doing, though.”

If Finley was confused when she first started speaking he was sure as hell confused by the time she finished, eyebrows furrowed and wondering if the girl had simply drank too much. Her speech wasn’t slurred though and so he decided to humour her, besides it would be rude and look bad if he simply dismissed her to return to his work. “Yes, well it’s not exactly very interesting. I thought bringing it to the bar might help lighten the load but, still, very dull.”

“I’m sorry, what’s your name? I’m Finley Shacklebolt.” He offered out his hand to shake her’s.

Leah spent the day reading and caressing her cat. That was her last day to relax before she restarted her training, but this time in the British Ministry of Magic. She was nervous and excited at the same time, which made her hours pass slower as she couldn’t stop wandering around her apartment trying to come up with something to keep her mind distracted. After a couple minutes just staring at the wall, she decided to put on her shoes and wander around the Diagon Alley as she used when she was getting ready to go to Hogwarts. 

As she walked in the Leaky Cauldron she just started walking to the bar,her heels tapping the old wooden floor as she walked. The room was unusually silent and she could only see a man working with a bunch of papers around his table. Leah was walking past the table when she was her name on one of those papers. Her curiosity was bigger than her fear talking and she just stood there trying to figure out how to ask the reason why her name was on that paper.

The man’s words took Leah out of her thoughts. “Oh, sorry” stuttered “I-I was just… I just saw my name on that paper” Leah said nervously pointing at the document “I didn’t want to disturb you sir” Leah apologised quickly.

The girl’s nervousness put him at ease slightly. With his large ego Finley naturally assumed that she knew who he was and this was what caused the nerves. He was sometimes recognised as Kingsley Shackebolt’s son and ex-Quidditch player, and had learnt to enjoy the attention. She didn’t seem like a nervous fan though, instead interested in the paper he had been working on, pointing out her name. 

“Oh, Ms. Proudmore.” He held out his hand to shake her’s. “You’re a new recruit then to the auror training programme? I work in The Department of Magical Law Enforcement, not an auror myself, but I will be helping with some of your training. None of the interesting stuff I’m afraid, but general policy and law. I’m just working on some training material now actually - you’ll be getting a presentation about the appropriate and lawful ways to search citizens and their residences, but I’m sure you don’t want to hear about that now. Your training starts tomorrow, yes? Are you looking forward to it?”

“Can I help you?”

He put his arm around the other man smiling and waving for a camera before finally deciding it was time to go sit down. He was hungry. As soon as they got through the restaurant door and out of view the facade dropped, and he glanced over at Albus with a grim look. “You’re going to make me buy you lobster and champagne again, aren’t you?”

You saw DANIEL KALUUYA in London recently? It was actually FINLEY SHACKLEBOLT, the two share a resemblance. Apparently HE is AMBITIOUS and INTELLIGENT but can also be CONCEITED and MANIPULATIVE. They are TWENTY EIGHT and were sorted into SLYTHERIN. The PUREBLOOD works as a MINISTRY OFFICIAL, lives in LONDON and is affiliated with NEITHER SIDE. 

Aesthetics: Freshly ironed shirt with gold cufflinks, paperwork piled neatly on an oak desk, photographs of The Montrose Magpies at the bottom of a desk draw, line of trophies on the mantel