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camwynIt's been too long since I last posted. This segment isn't complete, but the betas haven't complained, so- here's the first half of the next segment. More to follow, but I also need to work on Hellblazer: Hogwarts.
The merpeople off the coast of Scotland were at it again. Julian Konopka, the Ministry's foremost expert on saltwater merfolk, heaved a great sigh and rubbed at his face with both hands. Honestly, the Merchieftainess ought to know better than to allow this sort of rubbish to go on. It might be mischievous youngsters to her, but to him it was one step closer to those damned laws Umbridge had tried to get through.
From somewhere down the corridor he could hear the sound of quite a lot of people yelling. There was a lot of yelling in the Dangerous Creatures wing these days. Resolutely, he ignored it. He had merpeople to worry about.
According to the note he'd been given, a Muggle ship had come within a hairsbreadth of foundering. The colony's elvers, no longer content with proving their bravery by tapping Muggle ships as close to the moving parts as possible, had come upon a fishing vessel moving slowly enough to harass. Some bright light among them had found a pry bar on the sea bottom, and there'd been rivets poking out of the ship's belly, and-
Dash it all, they were still yelling. Different voices this time. Well, whatever had got the people in Beastly Affairs riled up couldn't be that serious. There'd be all sorts of alarums if anything dangerous were happening. Probably someone had cheated someone else in the week's Quidditch wagering.
Back to the dispatch. The Muggle ship had started to take on water within minutes of the elvers' play, and had started to sink at an alarming rate. They'd got a good bit of the way towards Glasgow harbour despite the ongoing prying of bits and pieces. Unfortunately, the Muggles had seen the elvers pointing and laughing at them even in the darkness. (Stupid of the elvers to pick a full moon night for a game like that, really.) The sighting might've been excused- strange things happened at sea, after all, especially in the minds of people in distress- but the rescue boat had seen them too. And that meant the Office of Misinformation had to send its Obliviators.
The yelling had died away. That was good. But now he could hear zap! noises and suspiciously loud sizzling sounds.
With a sigh, Julian put down the note. The rest of the parchment on his desk was probably more critical, and if they were hurling spells with that kind of abandon, there'd be an alert for sure within minutes. The last thing he wanted was for all his work to be scattered to the eight winds. He capped his ink-bottle, lay his quill to one side, and started filing each of the individual documents away. The paperwork for Misinformation went in the filing cabinet for future reference; the draft copy of his reprimand to Onesimus Taylor for that cock-up at Arbroath belonged in his desk, as it wasn't finished; the report on mackled malaclaw interference in interspecies amity, in the other drawer of his desk, for later reading but not immediate response.
The magical window set into his wall flickered, its moorland scene blinking to solid grey in an instant. A woman's brisk, businesslike voice sounded from the ceiling:
"Please remain calm. There has been an Incident in Dangerous Creatures. This is not a drill. We repeat, there has been an Incident in Dangerous Creatures. Please assume your defensive positions and await further instructions. We repeat, this is not a drill. . ."
Julian's stomach sank. They hadn't been able to contain it? He pushed his chair aside and ducked under his desk, wand in hand. After a moment he realised he had no view whatsoever of the office's door, and thus no way of knowing if the Incident was coming his way. Cautiously, he crept forward enough to peep over his desk without putting too much of himself in danger. Nothing to be seen-
No, wait. Something silvery flashed through the shadows at the other end of the corridor, sending parchment and quills flying in its wake- something big. It might've almost been a Patronus if it hadn't been yowling like the souls of the damned. Julian flinched instinctively, but at least it hadn't seen him. He found himself wishing there were more reflective objects in his office-
"GET HIM, RAY!"
Julian dropped to the floor, both hands over his head. A moment later he looked up. The sizzling noise was coming from the other end of the corridor- where the shadows were being punctuated by flashes of painfully bright purplish-white light. The howling still filled the air, but now there were gleeful yells of "Winged 'im!" and "Nice one, Zed!" and "Sorry! Sorry! Someone get a fire extinguisher!" to go with it.
All right. Someone was Taking Care of the Problem. Safe in that knowledge, Julian crawled back under his desk and waited, holding on tight to his wand. He could still hear the howling, of course, but it wasn't on his side of the desk, right?
"Pete! Ray! Take the left! Egon, down the middle! He's gonna make a break for it!"
Wait a minute. 'Fire Extinguisher'? When he'd been at school, that was the name for love potion countercharms. What were they doing?
"Nobody move! I need a clear reading!"
It occurred to him that the flashes of light had stopped. There weren't any more zap noises, either. Come to think of it, even the howling was gone. . .
"Over there. Be careful-"
Julian, being careful by nature, detested situations that called for extra care. If only his office had more than one door!
"-there's someone still in there-"
It occurred to him that this would be an absolutely splendid moment to Apparate down to the nearest tea-shop; he closed his eyes.
"Mister," said a low, American voice from the door to Julian's office, "this would be a really, really bad time to try anything. It's here."
"Er?" managed Julian. There was a strange upwelling of cold air all about him, and he could feel the hair prickling along the backs of his arms-
"Don't. Even. Breathe," commanded the other man's voice. Julian nodded, huddling tighter as something slimy started to trickle down the collar of his robes.
"Now," whispered someone else, and the room exploded with howling and purple-white light.
The merpeople off the coast of Scotland were at it again. Julian Konopka, the Ministry's foremost expert on saltwater merfolk, heaved a great sigh and rubbed at his face with both hands. Honestly, the Merchieftainess ought to know better than to allow this sort of rubbish to go on. It might be mischievous youngsters to her, but to him it was one step closer to those damned laws Umbridge had tried to get through.
From somewhere down the corridor he could hear the sound of quite a lot of people yelling. There was a lot of yelling in the Dangerous Creatures wing these days. Resolutely, he ignored it. He had merpeople to worry about.
According to the note he'd been given, a Muggle ship had come within a hairsbreadth of foundering. The colony's elvers, no longer content with proving their bravery by tapping Muggle ships as close to the moving parts as possible, had come upon a fishing vessel moving slowly enough to harass. Some bright light among them had found a pry bar on the sea bottom, and there'd been rivets poking out of the ship's belly, and-
Dash it all, they were still yelling. Different voices this time. Well, whatever had got the people in Beastly Affairs riled up couldn't be that serious. There'd be all sorts of alarums if anything dangerous were happening. Probably someone had cheated someone else in the week's Quidditch wagering.
Back to the dispatch. The Muggle ship had started to take on water within minutes of the elvers' play, and had started to sink at an alarming rate. They'd got a good bit of the way towards Glasgow harbour despite the ongoing prying of bits and pieces. Unfortunately, the Muggles had seen the elvers pointing and laughing at them even in the darkness. (Stupid of the elvers to pick a full moon night for a game like that, really.) The sighting might've been excused- strange things happened at sea, after all, especially in the minds of people in distress- but the rescue boat had seen them too. And that meant the Office of Misinformation had to send its Obliviators.
The yelling had died away. That was good. But now he could hear zap! noises and suspiciously loud sizzling sounds.
With a sigh, Julian put down the note. The rest of the parchment on his desk was probably more critical, and if they were hurling spells with that kind of abandon, there'd be an alert for sure within minutes. The last thing he wanted was for all his work to be scattered to the eight winds. He capped his ink-bottle, lay his quill to one side, and started filing each of the individual documents away. The paperwork for Misinformation went in the filing cabinet for future reference; the draft copy of his reprimand to Onesimus Taylor for that cock-up at Arbroath belonged in his desk, as it wasn't finished; the report on mackled malaclaw interference in interspecies amity, in the other drawer of his desk, for later reading but not immediate response.
The magical window set into his wall flickered, its moorland scene blinking to solid grey in an instant. A woman's brisk, businesslike voice sounded from the ceiling:
"Please remain calm. There has been an Incident in Dangerous Creatures. This is not a drill. We repeat, there has been an Incident in Dangerous Creatures. Please assume your defensive positions and await further instructions. We repeat, this is not a drill. . ."
Julian's stomach sank. They hadn't been able to contain it? He pushed his chair aside and ducked under his desk, wand in hand. After a moment he realised he had no view whatsoever of the office's door, and thus no way of knowing if the Incident was coming his way. Cautiously, he crept forward enough to peep over his desk without putting too much of himself in danger. Nothing to be seen-
No, wait. Something silvery flashed through the shadows at the other end of the corridor, sending parchment and quills flying in its wake- something big. It might've almost been a Patronus if it hadn't been yowling like the souls of the damned. Julian flinched instinctively, but at least it hadn't seen him. He found himself wishing there were more reflective objects in his office-
"GET HIM, RAY!"
Julian dropped to the floor, both hands over his head. A moment later he looked up. The sizzling noise was coming from the other end of the corridor- where the shadows were being punctuated by flashes of painfully bright purplish-white light. The howling still filled the air, but now there were gleeful yells of "Winged 'im!" and "Nice one, Zed!" and "Sorry! Sorry! Someone get a fire extinguisher!" to go with it.
All right. Someone was Taking Care of the Problem. Safe in that knowledge, Julian crawled back under his desk and waited, holding on tight to his wand. He could still hear the howling, of course, but it wasn't on his side of the desk, right?
"Pete! Ray! Take the left! Egon, down the middle! He's gonna make a break for it!"
Wait a minute. 'Fire Extinguisher'? When he'd been at school, that was the name for love potion countercharms. What were they doing?
"Nobody move! I need a clear reading!"
It occurred to him that the flashes of light had stopped. There weren't any more zap noises, either. Come to think of it, even the howling was gone. . .
"Over there. Be careful-"
Julian, being careful by nature, detested situations that called for extra care. If only his office had more than one door!
"-there's someone still in there-"
It occurred to him that this would be an absolutely splendid moment to Apparate down to the nearest tea-shop; he closed his eyes.
"Mister," said a low, American voice from the door to Julian's office, "this would be a really, really bad time to try anything. It's here."
"Er?" managed Julian. There was a strange upwelling of cold air all about him, and he could feel the hair prickling along the backs of his arms-
"Don't. Even. Breathe," commanded the other man's voice. Julian nodded, huddling tighter as something slimy started to trickle down the collar of his robes.
"Now," whispered someone else, and the room exploded with howling and purple-white light.
