In Egypt 6/15
Title: In Egypt 6/15, What Goblins Look Like Without Their Clothes On
Characters: Tonks, Fleur, various goblins, other magical creatures, others
Rating: PG
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5
Thanks to my beta, schemingreader
Part Six - What Goblins Look Like Without Their Clothes On
Tonks’ first idea was to disapparate out of the office, lotus and all. But as she expected, when she tried it she only felt a spongy skin of resistance from the bank’s anti-apparation wards resisting her attempt. Right. She was going to have to do this the hard way.
“My dear young lady, is anything the matter?”
One of Entwhistle’s eyebrows had arched upwards as he sensed her abortive attempt at magic. Sensing yet another example of Tonks’ ineptness, Fleur halted mid-conversation with Entwhistle and tilted her elegant nose a little higher in dissatisfaction.
You know, thought Tonks, Fleur might actually be right for once. In a situation like this, a little politeness could go a long way.
“Mr Entwhistle, I wonder if you would excuse me for a minute. I find I need to use your….um…. could you tell me where the ladies is?” It was as good a pretext as any to get away from them.
“Of course,” he bowed politely, “let me show you… second door on the right…”
Entwhistle escorted Tonks safely down the corridor. He stood watching and fingering his cravat as Tonks pulled the toilet door closed, an insincere smile on her face.
She leant against the wall. Okay. Now to just open the door and nonchalantly walk out of here. Good plan. Actually, her bladder was quite full… might as well use the facilities since she was here already, make it look convincing…
When she emerged, it was to the sight of Entwhistle conferring with six security trolls, all so large that they had to tilt their misshapen heads just to fit into the corridor. They held various intimidating clubs with nails, glass shards and other nasty objects sticking out of them. Entwhistle turned, as if in slow motion, to point in her direction. The beady, vicious eyes of the trolls followed his arm along to the end of his finger and finally came to rest on Tonks.
Tonks took off at a gallop, whipping out her wand. Her arms pumped breathlessly for extra speed as her legs flew. Past one oblivious goblin worker, nearly colliding into another, turning left and right randomly, heading further into the cavernous bank. She lost her footing several times as the corridors became sandier underfoot. She kicked spurts of sand into the air as she twisted around corners. Her path took her deeper and deeper into the heart of the mountain.
Suddenly she caught sight of the huge, glossy rear quarters of an animal. Tonks screeched to a halt. It was a Sphinx. There was no way that she wanted a fight with a beast as large and intelligent as that. She carefully backed away, as quietly as she could. She didn’t realise that she had been shaking until the last flick of its brown tufted tail had disappeared around the corner.
The tunnels were becoming damper. After a few more junctions, Tonks let herself slow down to catch her breath. The hammering in her chest gradually started to recede. She should have a good lead on the dull-witted, slow-moving trolls by now; time to get her bearings. In the middle of casting an unsuccessful four-point spell, she nearly dropped her wand when she heard someone hiss out her name.
“Tonks! Over ‘ere!”
A few desperately waving fingers and the scruffy tip of a nose were beckoning to her from a rusty grill set into a door.
She cautiously approached, and the rasping voice became pathetically garrulous.
“Thank bloody Nora! I’d ‘ave known that gorgeous pink mush anywhere! Tonks, me darling, you gotta get me out of ‘ere! The goblins caught me and they’re gonna give me to them!”
His voice became even more urgent.
“You can’t let that ‘appen, Tonks! Gemme out, gemme out NOW!”
He was scrabbling at the grill, pushing against it so that a grid of blotchy, whiskered jowl was being squeezed right through.
“…Mundungus?” asked Tonks, slowly, in disbelief. “How on earth did you end up here?”
“Would you believe it, just a tiny misunderstanding over a couple of sarcophagi, but don’t you worry your pretty little ‘ead about that.”
Any remaining doubts in Tonks’ mind as to the identity of this prisoner disappeared. ‘Slight misunderstandings’ about other people’s valuables had always been surprisingly common for Mundungus Fletcher.
Before Tonks could ask any more questions, she felt a distant thumping reverberate through the tunnel. It was growing louder by the second. The vibrations were dislodging pockets of sand from the roof; little mounds were mushrooming up as the rubble fell with a hiss upon the ground. Oh no. The trolls must have found her already. But which side were the footsteps coming from?
“Don’t you go an’ leave me, Tonks!” Mundungus begged helplessly. “They’re gonna suck my soul!”
“Shhh, I promise I’ll get help,” whispered Tonks, and promptly changed into a goblin.
Goblins were widely regarded as powerful, cantankerous, grudge-bearing creatures. For that reason, Tonks had never tried to turn into a goblin before just for the sheer fun of it. She hoped to Merlin that she was doing a halfway passable job. Tonks looked down into her now ridiculously baggy t-shirt and caught sight of a lumpy, undefined body underneath. She’d never cared to think what goblins looked like without their clothes, and she didn’t really have the time to start. She metamorphed her robes into the clothes of a bank worker; at least they fitted now.
A spell silenced Mundungus’s increasingly desperate and incriminating pleas. Sorry mate, but you’ll bring us both down with you.
Tonks started to walk. Think inconspicuous, business-like thoughts, she told herself. It was difficult when she felt so incredibly self-conscious - her newly created uniform was trimmed with much gold braid and the unfamiliar goblin legs had a tendency to shake and waddle.
The trolls lumbered noisily into view, bringing down another tussle of ceiling rubble with every hulking stride. Entwhistle’s voice could be heard from behind, shouting orders in a language that sounded like two wet rocks being smacked together.
Goblin Tonks shuffled along the side of the corridor. She held her breath as the first troll swung from side to side, closer with every mountainous footstep. It passed without giving her a second glance. The second stomped by likewise, the glass shards on its cudgel cutting the air mere inches from her face.
Tonks felt a kick inside her from the thrill of success. It was going to work. Entwhistle, now he’d be a tougher test. Would he detect the magic she had cast?
Entwhistle brought up the rear, holding his wand up on high. Its tip fizzled with blue sparks. The flickers became sprites, darting out to all corners of the tunnel, their fiery little hands searching for traces of wizardry.
The sprites suddenly shrieked out in one unearthly voice and formed a licking blue wall of flame at Mundungus’ prison cell. Entwhistle hurried on, past Tonks and started blasting spells at the door. Tonks hesitated. She was almost round the corner. She could break into a run again in just a few seconds. But she couldn’t leave Mundungus. Could she?
“That is a very interesting thing you are having under your jacket, Mister Goblin.”
Tonks looked up… and up higher… into the face of Fleur Delacour, standing in her path.
Tonks still had Fleur’s wand hidden away with her own. She could easily take out the wandless witch with one good hex - but that would alert Entwhistle’s magic-seeking sprites. Better to see how this played out first.
“This shape - he looks very familiar.”
Fleur leant down and poked a protuberance at the side of Tonks’ uniform. A manicured nail met something hard and unyielding under the fabric. Oh no! thought Tonks, the glass lotus! She looked up into deep blue eyes, full of satisfied determination.
Fleur made a grab for her jacket, Tonks vigorously trying to twist free. A shower of gilt buttons made sandy plops as they hit the floor. The lotus in its bag was wrenched free of its hiding place, blue sparks reflecting from its peeking white petals as it started to fall.
Two pairs of hands flailed out frantically to catch it.
next part (PG-13 for violence)
Characters: Tonks, Fleur, various goblins, other magical creatures, others
Rating: PG
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5
Thanks to my beta, schemingreader
Part Six - What Goblins Look Like Without Their Clothes On
Tonks’ first idea was to disapparate out of the office, lotus and all. But as she expected, when she tried it she only felt a spongy skin of resistance from the bank’s anti-apparation wards resisting her attempt. Right. She was going to have to do this the hard way.
“My dear young lady, is anything the matter?”
One of Entwhistle’s eyebrows had arched upwards as he sensed her abortive attempt at magic. Sensing yet another example of Tonks’ ineptness, Fleur halted mid-conversation with Entwhistle and tilted her elegant nose a little higher in dissatisfaction.
You know, thought Tonks, Fleur might actually be right for once. In a situation like this, a little politeness could go a long way.
“Mr Entwhistle, I wonder if you would excuse me for a minute. I find I need to use your….um…. could you tell me where the ladies is?” It was as good a pretext as any to get away from them.
“Of course,” he bowed politely, “let me show you… second door on the right…”
Entwhistle escorted Tonks safely down the corridor. He stood watching and fingering his cravat as Tonks pulled the toilet door closed, an insincere smile on her face.
She leant against the wall. Okay. Now to just open the door and nonchalantly walk out of here. Good plan. Actually, her bladder was quite full… might as well use the facilities since she was here already, make it look convincing…
When she emerged, it was to the sight of Entwhistle conferring with six security trolls, all so large that they had to tilt their misshapen heads just to fit into the corridor. They held various intimidating clubs with nails, glass shards and other nasty objects sticking out of them. Entwhistle turned, as if in slow motion, to point in her direction. The beady, vicious eyes of the trolls followed his arm along to the end of his finger and finally came to rest on Tonks.
Tonks took off at a gallop, whipping out her wand. Her arms pumped breathlessly for extra speed as her legs flew. Past one oblivious goblin worker, nearly colliding into another, turning left and right randomly, heading further into the cavernous bank. She lost her footing several times as the corridors became sandier underfoot. She kicked spurts of sand into the air as she twisted around corners. Her path took her deeper and deeper into the heart of the mountain.
Suddenly she caught sight of the huge, glossy rear quarters of an animal. Tonks screeched to a halt. It was a Sphinx. There was no way that she wanted a fight with a beast as large and intelligent as that. She carefully backed away, as quietly as she could. She didn’t realise that she had been shaking until the last flick of its brown tufted tail had disappeared around the corner.
The tunnels were becoming damper. After a few more junctions, Tonks let herself slow down to catch her breath. The hammering in her chest gradually started to recede. She should have a good lead on the dull-witted, slow-moving trolls by now; time to get her bearings. In the middle of casting an unsuccessful four-point spell, she nearly dropped her wand when she heard someone hiss out her name.
“Tonks! Over ‘ere!”
A few desperately waving fingers and the scruffy tip of a nose were beckoning to her from a rusty grill set into a door.
She cautiously approached, and the rasping voice became pathetically garrulous.
“Thank bloody Nora! I’d ‘ave known that gorgeous pink mush anywhere! Tonks, me darling, you gotta get me out of ‘ere! The goblins caught me and they’re gonna give me to them!”
His voice became even more urgent.
“You can’t let that ‘appen, Tonks! Gemme out, gemme out NOW!”
He was scrabbling at the grill, pushing against it so that a grid of blotchy, whiskered jowl was being squeezed right through.
“…Mundungus?” asked Tonks, slowly, in disbelief. “How on earth did you end up here?”
“Would you believe it, just a tiny misunderstanding over a couple of sarcophagi, but don’t you worry your pretty little ‘ead about that.”
Any remaining doubts in Tonks’ mind as to the identity of this prisoner disappeared. ‘Slight misunderstandings’ about other people’s valuables had always been surprisingly common for Mundungus Fletcher.
Before Tonks could ask any more questions, she felt a distant thumping reverberate through the tunnel. It was growing louder by the second. The vibrations were dislodging pockets of sand from the roof; little mounds were mushrooming up as the rubble fell with a hiss upon the ground. Oh no. The trolls must have found her already. But which side were the footsteps coming from?
“Don’t you go an’ leave me, Tonks!” Mundungus begged helplessly. “They’re gonna suck my soul!”
“Shhh, I promise I’ll get help,” whispered Tonks, and promptly changed into a goblin.
Goblins were widely regarded as powerful, cantankerous, grudge-bearing creatures. For that reason, Tonks had never tried to turn into a goblin before just for the sheer fun of it. She hoped to Merlin that she was doing a halfway passable job. Tonks looked down into her now ridiculously baggy t-shirt and caught sight of a lumpy, undefined body underneath. She’d never cared to think what goblins looked like without their clothes, and she didn’t really have the time to start. She metamorphed her robes into the clothes of a bank worker; at least they fitted now.
A spell silenced Mundungus’s increasingly desperate and incriminating pleas. Sorry mate, but you’ll bring us both down with you.
Tonks started to walk. Think inconspicuous, business-like thoughts, she told herself. It was difficult when she felt so incredibly self-conscious - her newly created uniform was trimmed with much gold braid and the unfamiliar goblin legs had a tendency to shake and waddle.
The trolls lumbered noisily into view, bringing down another tussle of ceiling rubble with every hulking stride. Entwhistle’s voice could be heard from behind, shouting orders in a language that sounded like two wet rocks being smacked together.
Goblin Tonks shuffled along the side of the corridor. She held her breath as the first troll swung from side to side, closer with every mountainous footstep. It passed without giving her a second glance. The second stomped by likewise, the glass shards on its cudgel cutting the air mere inches from her face.
Tonks felt a kick inside her from the thrill of success. It was going to work. Entwhistle, now he’d be a tougher test. Would he detect the magic she had cast?
Entwhistle brought up the rear, holding his wand up on high. Its tip fizzled with blue sparks. The flickers became sprites, darting out to all corners of the tunnel, their fiery little hands searching for traces of wizardry.
The sprites suddenly shrieked out in one unearthly voice and formed a licking blue wall of flame at Mundungus’ prison cell. Entwhistle hurried on, past Tonks and started blasting spells at the door. Tonks hesitated. She was almost round the corner. She could break into a run again in just a few seconds. But she couldn’t leave Mundungus. Could she?
“That is a very interesting thing you are having under your jacket, Mister Goblin.”
Tonks looked up… and up higher… into the face of Fleur Delacour, standing in her path.
Tonks still had Fleur’s wand hidden away with her own. She could easily take out the wandless witch with one good hex - but that would alert Entwhistle’s magic-seeking sprites. Better to see how this played out first.
“This shape - he looks very familiar.”
Fleur leant down and poked a protuberance at the side of Tonks’ uniform. A manicured nail met something hard and unyielding under the fabric. Oh no! thought Tonks, the glass lotus! She looked up into deep blue eyes, full of satisfied determination.
Fleur made a grab for her jacket, Tonks vigorously trying to twist free. A shower of gilt buttons made sandy plops as they hit the floor. The lotus in its bag was wrenched free of its hiding place, blue sparks reflecting from its peeking white petals as it started to fall.
Two pairs of hands flailed out frantically to catch it.
next part (PG-13 for violence)