Potty Game: Five Words (Vol. XX)

, "well, Mr Shacklebolt, I'm glad

Spoiler:

Congratulations, Verity, on the successful organization of this important event! It sounds really exciting, and I'm sending you some extra strengthening charms for the rest of the weekend and for next week!

Sorry for my absence yesterday, but this weekend I've been quite ill with a fever, a severe headache, aching limbs and nausea (so yesterday I couldn't eat at all). It was my son who started it on Friday night and a few hours later I was ill, too.  On Saturday morning I still dragged myself to a school theatre performance in which my daughter played and which I wanted to see very much. The performance was absolutely great, but on the way home I thought I'd collapse. Anyway, both my son and I are feeling better today, but it's not exactly a relaxing weekend - and I haven't had a weekend that was really relaxing for several weeks now.

to have you around. You

Spoiler:

Sorry you've been ill, Julia. I hope you're feeling better.

I'm pretty tired now after another big, but successful day. I'll post about it later in the Chat Thread.

make problems disappear like magic."

Well, that's exactly five words - thanks for the suggestion!    Anything to add?

“Quack! Quack!”

Herbert Chorley looked at his boss with unmistakable horror on his pasty face. The Prime Minister stared back incredulously.

“Herbert!” he exclaimed sternly. “What do you think you’re doing? I have a speech to make this afternoon and I need you to brief me about what steps have been taken since last week.”

Herbert Chorley tried again: he formed a sentence in his mind, took a deep breath and opened his mouth.

“Quack!” he said earnestly, then fell silent, clapping his hands over his mouth, deeply embarrassed. The Prime Minister looked confused and a little frightened. It was not turning out to be a successful week. He had quite enough on his plate without the additional problems of a quacking junior minister. He was trying to think of a reasonable explanation when he suddenly saw Herbert Chorley disappearing out the door. Quickly, with a sense of foreboding, he followed, catching up with Herbert just as the junior minister stumbled out the front door.

Policemen stationed outside 10 Downing Street looked over in alarm at the young politician, who was quacking loudly and waving his arms, in a bizarre imitation of a duck attempting to fly. A crowd of paparazzi rushed forward, cameras clicking, lights flashing as they took picture after picture of the extraordinary spectacle. The Prime Minister hovered just behind the open door, anxious not to be seen, but desperately wanting to end the spectacle.

Suddenly a commanding voice behind him said, “Just leave it to me Prime Minister.”

A tall man, whose face was not familiar, strode purposefully past, muttering something incomprehensible under his breath. He escorted a now placid Herbert into the junior minister’s office, followed by the Prime Minister, wondering who on earth the dark-skinned stranger was.

“Kingsley Shacklebolt, your new secretary,” said the imposing man, offering his hand to the Prime Minister, who found himself greatly reassured by the strong handshake.

Kingsley Shacklebolt went to the window, discreetly murmuring a couple of spells and scanning the street outside. Herbert Chorley had obviously been hit with a clumsy Imperius Curse. Someone had breached the security around the Muggle Prime Minister and it was his job to make sure it didn’t happen again. He also had to do something about Herbert Chorley, who was still quacking forlornly in his chair. Considering the circumstances, St. Mungo’s seemed like the safest choice, and he needed aurors to escort him there.

“Nothing to worry about. Only a nervous reaction to … stress,” Kingsley assured the Prime Minister, casting a non-verbal Revelio spell on the neighbourhood. At that moment, the placid junior minister suddenly leapt to his feet and let out a blood-curdling scream, hurling himself violently at the frightened Prime Minister.

“Petrificus Totalus,” whispered Kingsley, then jumped forward to catch the unfortunate politician.

“Everything’s all right,” he murmured, and lowered Herbert to the ground carefully. “I know a special hypnosis technique to calm him and then I’ll arrange for someone to take care of him.”

The Prime Minister thought his new secretary was extremely efficient and he felt grateful that he was taking charge. His predecessor would never have been so decisive.

“Right. Well, I’ll leave it to you then. I have a speech to prepare. You will report to me when you’ve dealt with everything.”

At last Kingsley was able to summon reinforcements from the Ministry, and the Medi-wizards were able to apparate to St. Mungo’s with their very confused patient.

That afternoon the Prime Minister put on his most charming smile as he proudly (though nervously) stepped out in front of hundreds of excited spectators and journalists to deliver his speech. Kingsley stood behind his back, among the other ministerial staff, alert and observant. He was dressed in a tailored suit with a silk tie and a deep purple waistcoat. He sensed something in the air, something cold and ominous. He realized that dementors were gathering nearby. Already the mood of the crowd had begun to change. People were muttering uneasily and casting worried looks at the dark clouds gathering overhead. Journalists were eyeing the Prime Minister with suspicion and contempt.

“Prime Minister,” Kingsley whispered softly, as a tall hooded man stepped menacingly out of the crowd.  “I think it’s time to withdraw into your office for a while.”

“But I haven’t heard the journalists’ –“, the Prime Minister’s protestation was cut short when Kingsley suddenly wrenched him backwards as a jet of light burst from the hooded man’s direction, narrowly missing the Muggle politician. Kingsley leapt forward as a bodyguard yelled “GUN!” Another jet of light, this time from Kingsley, shot over ducking heads, just missing the hooded Death Eater. Chaos ensued. People were screaming and running everywhere, trampling over each other while several more Death Eaters emerged from the crowd. Kingsley successfully deflected another curse aimed at the Prime Minister, and then ducked to avoid a Stunning spell. Casting a shield charm, he noticed a Death Eater blasting Muggles out of his way. It was a moment of indecision for Kingsley, and then he knew what to do. With the Shield Charm protecting the Prime Minister, he quickly apparated to the spot where the outrageous atrocity was happening, trying to get a clear shot at the reckless Death Eater. He risked his own safety rather than put the Muggles around him in danger. The hooded wizard directed a curse at Kingsley, who promptly responded with a Stunning spell. The Death Eater collapsed just as Kingsley heard an anguished cry from the direction of the Prime Minister.  

Racing back towards the stage he saw a bodyguard clutching his wrist in pain. It was swollen to twice its normal size after he had been hit by a nasty jinx that had sent him into a panic. The other bodyguard had attempted to usher the prime minister out of the way but had been thrown back by Kingsley’s powerful Shield Charm. Looking confused, he tried again, but he bounced right off, landing amongst the screaming, terrified people who were still scrambling in all directions trying to find an escape from the danger around them. To make matters worse, the Dementors had now reached the place, hungry for human emotions. The palpable fear was like the touch of a cold breath on the back of the neck as the monsters advanced.

“Expecto patronum!” Kingsley roared, mentally groping for an old happy memory. A silver lynx shot out of the tip of his wand, bounding away towards the dark creatures while Kingsley turned his attention back to the Prime Minister. He was cowering behind the podium, which exploded just as Kingsley reached the stage. He quickly wheeled around in a shower of sparks to face the Death Eater whose wand was pointed straight at Kingsley’s chest.

“Well?” said a voice behind the sinister mask. “You may as well lay down your wand. You’re hopelessly outnumbered.”

Kingsley glanced round and saw the chaos around him. The Dementors were returning, bringing despair and fear with them. The other Death Eater was standing behind the stage, wand out and pointing at the Prime Minister. Just then, the hapless politician’s pocket gave a curious sound – a sudden shrill beeping that startled the Death Eater towering over Kingsley, causing him to take a quick glance at his companion. The momentary lapse of concentration was all Kingsley needed. Firing a curse over the stage, he immobilized the closest Death Eater, then grabbed the Prime Minister by the upper arm, turning and disapparating with him.

They landed in a tangled heap in a flower bed in St James’s Park.

“Obliviate!” Kingsley cried as bewildered passes-by stopped and stared and the Prime Minister tried to get back on his feet. After several futile attempts he allowed his personal assistant to help him up and lead him to a nearby bench.

“Prime Minister, you probably realize what has just happened and it’s nothing to worry about, but now it’s time we got you back to your office,” Kingsley said. “I hope the walk has helped you get rid of the tension you were feeling earlier so you will be able to do the press conference tomorrow.”

The Prime Minister replied uncertainly, “right, of course. Yes, the press conference… I forgot about that. I think I’ll have to go through the briefing notes again. I can’t remember anything. Do you think Herbert’s condition was contagious?”

“Don’t worry about that. You’ll be just fine,” Kingsley reassured him, silently wondering what had happened back at the rally. He hoped the other aurors had been alerted by the use of so much magic in the presence of Muggles and intervened to stop the violence. He was sure the Obliviator Squad was busy altering memories just now, and would be taking care of the aftermath of the event. He needed to get the Prime Minister to safety first. That was his top priority. At the moment, the park looked clear so he unceremoniously steered the confused politician to the road and hailed the Knight Bus.

A few minutes later, the large purple triple-decker bus screeched to a halt in front of them. With the help of the conductor, Stan Shunpike, Kingsley got the astounded Prime Minister on to the bus and soon they were back in Downing Street.

“Great idea, Mr… er…” the Prime Minister trailed off.

“Shacklebolt, sir,” supplied Kingsley.

“Yes, Shacklebolt. It was good thinking to take the bus. Never knew they were so convenient. I’ve never actually seen a purple one before. Can’t say I’m out of touch though, so I’m really pleased we used public transport this time. My voters should hear about it. Did you take a picture, by any chance?”

“I’m afraid not, sir,” Kingsley replied, hiding his impatience behind a respectful tone.

The Prime Minister seemed somewhat disappointed, but allowed Kingsley to steer him back to the office, talking all the way about voters, journalists and the unfair press coverage which always blamed him for whatever went wrong in the country.

“They’ll probably write something outrageous and sensational about what happened today. But I’m not sure … Do you remember exactly what happened? I know we had some problems but I’m not sure what started it.”

“No need to worry about that now, sir,” Kingsley said soothingly, “we’ll take care of it.” He manoeuvred carefully behind the unsuspecting Muggle where he would not be seen raising his wand and performing some Ministerial memory modification. For a few moments, the politician’s eyes glazed over, then he blinked several times and shook his head, as though he was trying hard to remember something of great importance.

Then he relaxed and said, “well, Mr Shacklebolt, I’m glad to have you around. You make problems disappear like magic.”

“That’s my job,” Kingsley smiled.

Verity, I like it, too!    It's quite action-packed and it was a lot of fun to write. The PM seems a bit thick not noticing all that magic around him, but then that's what Muggles are famous for, and perhaps I could have imagined a bit more interaction between the DE's and Kingsley but the story didn't want it and I'm fine with that, too.   I especially like the opening and the closing lines. I think they're great.

Oh, and I'm sorry for being absent for such a long time, but this week has been crazy again. I always hope it will be easier next week, but it never is. I'm looking forward to the spring break so much!

Now the beginning of the new story... This one might be a bit more romantic again, at least I'm thinking of a certain instance of elopement, but who knows...?   

Molly Prewett examined her reflection

was only moderately satisfied with

We still have more than a week to go till spring break, as here it starts on a Thursday. The following Wednesday is school again, so it's going to be a short break, but I'm still looking forward to it.

would have to do. She

Our break is from Thursday to Wednesday so we have more than just one day between the break and the weekend on both sides.