(no subject)
"Perkins!"
This was the fundamental problem with green Ministry employees, thought Francis Perkins with a great, dramatic sigh. They were too goddamn eager.
"Perkins, wake up!"
Well, so much for pretending to ignore him.
"What?" he grunted through his teeth.
"There's a winged unicorn on the horizon."
"White, purple or pink?"
"Purple, I think, but it's hard to tell with the sun behind it."
Perkins's mouth twitched downward. A purple unicorn was never a good sign. He opened his eyes and pulled himself to his full composure, straightening his robe with both hands before looking up. His young colleague was pointing to the northern sky with wide-eyed expression.
Sure enough, ghosting through the orange light of sundown was an oblong silhouette, with outstretched wings that had a faint violet colouration. Even from nearly eight hundred feet away, Perkins could see its regal golden horn glistening and flashing.
"Son of a bitch."
"Do you think we should be concerned?" asked his junior nervously. "I mean, the Hogwarts Express isn't due for another few hours, and they don't usually come early--"
"Shut up, Patterson, and get the harpoon."
-- -- -- -- --
"Welcome, students, to a new year at Hogwarts," said Albus Dumbledore, smiling warmly at the many faces in the crowd that stretched down the length of the Great Hall. "Before we begin our lovely banquet, I do have a few announcements to make." He cleared his throat.
"First years are reminded that the Dark Forest is strictly out-of-bounds to all pupils. No magic is to be performed between classes or in the corridors, and all those interested in trying out for the Quidditch teams should see Madame Hooch by next week.
"Onto a more sombre matter," Dumbledore continued, "you my have noticed the guards stationed around the school when you came in. They are part of a new department of the Ministry of Magic that has been set up for our own protection, and they will be patrolling the halls, grounds and classrooms for the duration of the year. As you may have guessed, there has been a recent and startling influx in the school population, and they're here to make sure that we don't have another exploding greenhouse incident."
He heard a general mumbled consensus among the mass. Only the first years seemed puzzled; the rest remembered the incident all too well.
"I expect that you will treat them with the dignity and respect that you show your teachers," said Dumbledore calmly, "and that you will do as you're told if they--"
Mid-sentence, the door clattered open. Simultaneously, every head in the room turned toward the source of the noise.
Francis Perkins was standing in the doorway, framed by the light from beyond. Slung over his shoulder was a young woman with long blonde hair, dressed in a white gossamer gown. Her hands and ankles were bound with spells and a blue bandana was being used as a gag. She was kicking and screaming fiercely through the cloth in her mouth, thrashing like an angry dragon, but Perkins seemed completely unfazed.
"This one's saying that she's the Princess of Atlantis," he drawled through the stunned silence. "Can we confirm that?"
Dumbledore tilted his chin down to peer over the tops of his half-moon spectacles. He studied the girl for only a few seconds before he replied:
"Atlantis has no monarchy," he said mildly. "And even if they did, the country is inhabited only by merfolk."
"Right. I'll take care of this one according to protocol, then," he said as he heaved the struggling girl back over his shoulder from which she'd slipped. He turned around and headed back through the doors, using his free hand to pull it closed.
"Patterson, get the wooden stake!" he cried as the doors closed.
This was the fundamental problem with green Ministry employees, thought Francis Perkins with a great, dramatic sigh. They were too goddamn eager.
"Perkins, wake up!"
Well, so much for pretending to ignore him.
"What?" he grunted through his teeth.
"There's a winged unicorn on the horizon."
"White, purple or pink?"
"Purple, I think, but it's hard to tell with the sun behind it."
Perkins's mouth twitched downward. A purple unicorn was never a good sign. He opened his eyes and pulled himself to his full composure, straightening his robe with both hands before looking up. His young colleague was pointing to the northern sky with wide-eyed expression.
Sure enough, ghosting through the orange light of sundown was an oblong silhouette, with outstretched wings that had a faint violet colouration. Even from nearly eight hundred feet away, Perkins could see its regal golden horn glistening and flashing.
"Son of a bitch."
"Do you think we should be concerned?" asked his junior nervously. "I mean, the Hogwarts Express isn't due for another few hours, and they don't usually come early--"
"Shut up, Patterson, and get the harpoon."
-- -- -- -- --
"Welcome, students, to a new year at Hogwarts," said Albus Dumbledore, smiling warmly at the many faces in the crowd that stretched down the length of the Great Hall. "Before we begin our lovely banquet, I do have a few announcements to make." He cleared his throat.
"First years are reminded that the Dark Forest is strictly out-of-bounds to all pupils. No magic is to be performed between classes or in the corridors, and all those interested in trying out for the Quidditch teams should see Madame Hooch by next week.
"Onto a more sombre matter," Dumbledore continued, "you my have noticed the guards stationed around the school when you came in. They are part of a new department of the Ministry of Magic that has been set up for our own protection, and they will be patrolling the halls, grounds and classrooms for the duration of the year. As you may have guessed, there has been a recent and startling influx in the school population, and they're here to make sure that we don't have another exploding greenhouse incident."
He heard a general mumbled consensus among the mass. Only the first years seemed puzzled; the rest remembered the incident all too well.
"I expect that you will treat them with the dignity and respect that you show your teachers," said Dumbledore calmly, "and that you will do as you're told if they--"
Mid-sentence, the door clattered open. Simultaneously, every head in the room turned toward the source of the noise.
Francis Perkins was standing in the doorway, framed by the light from beyond. Slung over his shoulder was a young woman with long blonde hair, dressed in a white gossamer gown. Her hands and ankles were bound with spells and a blue bandana was being used as a gag. She was kicking and screaming fiercely through the cloth in her mouth, thrashing like an angry dragon, but Perkins seemed completely unfazed.
"This one's saying that she's the Princess of Atlantis," he drawled through the stunned silence. "Can we confirm that?"
Dumbledore tilted his chin down to peer over the tops of his half-moon spectacles. He studied the girl for only a few seconds before he replied:
"Atlantis has no monarchy," he said mildly. "And even if they did, the country is inhabited only by merfolk."
"Right. I'll take care of this one according to protocol, then," he said as he heaved the struggling girl back over his shoulder from which she'd slipped. He turned around and headed back through the doors, using his free hand to pull it closed.
"Patterson, get the wooden stake!" he cried as the doors closed.