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0621 The Ministry
🕑 Added 2025-02-06 11:55:11 +0000 UTCOn a cold winter morning in London, the rising sun slowly began to dispel the darkness and chill of the night. The first pale rays of light filtered through the heavy clouds and illuminated the bustling city streets below. As the morning grew, the temperature crept up slightly, but the air remained chilly, causing the soft powdery snow from the night before to transform into slick patches of ice.
Hordes of commuters emerged from the underground stations, their eyes bleary and their faces etched with weariness from the early start. They dodged and darted through the crowds, in a hurry to reach their offices and begin the day.
Among them was a young woman wearing a bright yellow coat that stood out against the sea of dark, somber colors. Her black high-heeled leather boots clicked rapidly on the pavement as she fought to stay upright amidst the press of bodies.
With a gasp of relief, the woman finally disentangled herself from the crowd and stepped onto the icy tactile paving near the subway entrance. But in her haste, her foot slipped on a crushed piece of ice and she lost her balance, toppling backwards. The steaming paper cup of black coffee clutched in her gloved hand went flying.
Just as the young lady braced herself for an embarrassing and painful impact with the cold hard ground, she felt a strong hand press firmly against her back, halting her fall and steadying her. Breathless, she patted her pounding chest and turned around to face her savior.
"Thank you so much," she gasped, taking in the sight of the tall, handsome man who had caught her. He had striking gray hair that shimmered like strands of silver under the pale winter sunlight. His facial features and confident, upright bearing made him look like he had just stepped off a movie set.
But it was his eyes that captivated her the most. They were an unusual pale purple color, and seemed to contain mysterious, swirling depths, like galaxies of stars. Gazing into them, she felt as if she was in danger of losing herself completely.
With a charming smile, the man handed her back the paper coffee cup he had caught. "You're very welcome," he replied.
The Muggle girl, her cheeks flushed red, repeated her thanks in a fluster. She found that not a single drop had spilled from the paper cup she had tossed out just now, and couldn't help but be slightly stunned. She asked in surprise,
"How did you do that?"
The man's smile widened and he gave a modest shrug. "Just quick reflexes, nothing special. Well, I wish you a pleasant day, beautiful lady." With a polite nod of his head, he turned and strode away, quickly disappearing into the bustling crowd.
Biting her lip, the woman stared after his receding figure, her heart fluttering rapidly in her chest. Then she caught sight of him turning down a small side alley she had never noticed before. Glancing at her watch, she hesitated, knowing her stern-faced supervisor would not be pleased if she was late to the office again. But some impulse made her toss her barely touched coffee into a nearby bin and hurry after the intriguing stranger.
"Wait, please!" she called out breathlessly as she reached the mouth of the alley. The man paused and turned to face her, his expression was puzzled but not displeased.
Brushing a few stray strands of blonde hair out of her eyes, the woman gathered her courage. "I'm Louise," she said, holding out a slightly trembling hand. "Louise Williams. I'm a reporter for The London Daily."
The corner of the man's mouth quirked up as he reached out to clasp her hand briefly. His skin was surprisingly warm despite the cold. "Bryan Watson," he replied, his hypnotic lavender eyes crinkling at the corners. "Is there something else I can help you with, Miss Williams?"
Louise's heart skipped a beat as she quickly committed his name to memory. A hot flush of embarrassment colored her cheeks as she realized how forward she was being. She had never approached a complete stranger like this before, man or woman. But something about this Mr. Watson drew her in.
"I was just wondering," she began, then faltered slightly. Taking a stimulating breath, she pressed on. "I was wondering if I might see you again sometime, Mr. Watson? Perhaps we could meet for coffee or..."
Her words tapered off as she saw the regretful expression settle over his facial features.
"I'm terribly sorry, Miss Williams," Bryan replied, not unkindly. "I'm afraid I don't visit London very often. If you were hoping to take me up on that coffee, you would likely have a long wait ahead of you."
The refusal in his words could not have been more obvious. Crestfallen, Louise nodded in understanding, her heart plummeting. Cheeks burning, she backed out of the alley.
Bang! A faint popping sound from behind startled her and she turned around. Blast it, she should have at least given him her telephone number!
But when she charged back into the alley, it was completely deserted. The gray-haired man had vanished into thin air, as if by magic. Louise gawked at the empty alleyway in disbelief. All the shops were closed and shuttered at this early hour. There was simply nowhere he could have gone so quickly.
"Damn it, do you know magic, to disappear so suddenly?" Louise swore under her breath. A gust of icy wind swirled around her, kicking up old newspapers and litter. Stamping her feet in frustration, the Muggle reporter stalked out of the alley, cursing her own impulsiveness and foolishness...
Meanwhile, Bryan Watson emerged from the abandoned alleyway and made his way through London backstreets until he arrived at a battered old red telephone booth tucked away behind some brick buildings. Stepping inside the cramped, dingy booth, he dialed 6-2-4-4-2 and waited as the outdated payphone began descending out of sight, dropping him into the Atrium at the headquarters of the Ministry of Magic.
"Mr. Watson, sir! Arnold Peasegood here, at your service!" A portly, red-faced man in pinstriped robes crept up to him, grabbing his hand and pumping it vigorously. "It's an honor to make your acquaintance! I'm a clerk with the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad. If there's anything at all I can assist you with during your visit, you just say the word!"
Bryan extracted his hand and gave the man a tight smile. "Thank you kindly, Mr. Peasegood. I'll be sure to keep that in mind."
He quickly stepped into a waiting lift before the rest of the watching crowd could close in on him. But his relief was short-lived. No sooner had the golden grilles slid shut then a hand thrust itself through the rapidly narrowing gap.
"Mr. Watson! Raymond White, Apparition Test Center," panted the young, lanky wizard as he squeezed himself into the lift beside Bryan. "Such a pleasure to meet you! I've heard so much about you. You know, my little cousin Jessie is starting at Hogwarts next year and..."
As the lift shuddered upwards, Bryan found himself cornered by the overly enthusiastic young man who seemed determined to talk his ear off but fortunately grilles opened again with a clang and another wizard came in.
"Professor Watson, fancy seeing you here!" The new arriving portly wizard with a walrus mustache said. "I suppose you're on your way to meet with the Minister on some top secret business, eh? Of course, of course, don't mean to pry! I'm Eugene Jenkins, from the Centaur Liaison Office. I'd be delighted to run any errands you might need while you're tied up in meetings!"
It wasn't until the elevator rose up to higher floors and those enthusiastic smiling faces disappeared from view that Bryan, who had maintained a friendly smile throughout, dropped his smile and let out a small sigh of relief.
After the night of the Quidditch World Cup final, Bryan had 'assisted' the Ministry of Magic in apprehending some notorious Dark wizards. During that time, he had frequented the Ministry, and his every appearance had basically caused quite a stir. He had thought that after a few months, the hype around him would have died down somewhat, but to his surprise, the situation had not changed at all.
Bryan was quite familiar with the location of Barty's office, after all, the two of them had worked together when competing for the right to host the Triwizard Tournament. He took the elevator up to the fifth floor, the Department of International Magical Cooperation. After causing another wave of exclamations in the solemn atmosphere of the long corridor, he finally arrived at old Barty's office door.
"Come in--"
A crisp young voice tinged with an air of deliberate composure spoke from behind the door. The corner of Bryan's mouth twitched as he pushed the door open and entered.
Whoosh, whoosh--
Numerous pale purple paper airplanes flew back and forth in the vast office space, as chaotic as an air crash site. Yet the fireplace in the room continued to spew out paper airplanes stamped with the Ministry of Magic seal.
Bryan's gaze was directed towards the back of the office. Senior Barty was not behind his desk, which was not strange. Next to the bookshelf where his original desk had been, a new assistant's desk had been placed.
Percy Weasley, the third son of the Weasley family, immediately sprang up from his seat when he saw Bryan enter the room. He clumsily made his way out from behind the desk, and the dozen or so planes circling above his head seemed dissatisfied with Percy's slacking off. They dove down from mid-air in unison, aiming for Percy's forehead and pecking away.
Clang!
"Ow! Gerroff, you blasted - oof!"
The paper planes obscured Percy's vision. With a careless misstep, Percy tumbled out from behind the desk. He scrambled to his feet, but those paper planes still refused to let him go. The planes that had originally been circling around the room also seemed to have had enough of waiting and launched an attack on Percy. In an instant, Percy was completely enveloped by countless paper planes.
Seeing this, Bryan's lips moved. He drew out his wand and waved it cleanly and neatly in a horizontal sweep. Accompanied by a tangible wave that swept across the entire office, as if time had stopped, the paper planes caught by the wave froze one by one in mid-air, and Percy himself took advantage of this opportunity to break out of the encirclement of paper planes.
His hair was terribly disheveled, and moreover, in the struggle with the paper planes just now, he had lost one of his shoes.
Percy looked down at the foot treading on the wool carpet, his old face flushing red as he charged into the pile of papers and began to search.
"Welcome, Professor Watson ahem!" He said breathlessly, pushing his glasses up his nose and holding out an ink-stained hand.
When Bryan had the paper planes line up in an orderly fashion to the side, Percy, who had finally found his shoe, straightened his body with a flushed face. Facing Bryan, he raised his fist to his lips and coughed twice, saying in a deep voice,
"Ahem—I mean—welcome, Mr. Watson! How was your journey? Pleasant, I hope?"
"Hehe, it was indeed quite pleasant for me, Mr. Assistant--"
A light, cheerful smile appeared on Bryan's face. As he walked towards Percy, he casually plucked a paper airplane and glanced at it.
"I'm very sorry, if I had known earlier that you were here-- oh, this says that the toilet in the office of the International Confederation of Wizards sub-committee has exploded and they hope you'll go and deal with it. You see, should I wait for you for a bit?"
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