Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and make no profit from this story.
It was half past midnight, the moon shining brightly and illuminating the street as though it were a stage. Everything shone in stark relief, silent and unreal. In the little cookie-cutter houses on both sides of the street everyone slept in peaceful contentment, even the babies asleep for an hour or two before they demanded another night-time feeding. It was like a still-life painting.
Out of the blue, a sudden loud noise like a clap of thunder announced a large displacement of air. A figure appeared about six feet up, falling and bouncing like some demented cartoon character before coming to a rest, splayed against a tree trunk. The young man looked around in embarrassment but no one saw.
In one of the houses a dog roused itself enough to bark loudly once or twice. "Shaddap!" the tired voice of the owner ordered but no one came to see what the noise was.
The young man rose to his feet, brushing himself off. In the dark it was hard to tell if he was wearing a bathrobe, a dress, or some kind of long coat. He pulled out a thin stick and waved it about, muttering under his breath before turning the wand to point at his clothes. When nothing happened he grumbled a bit and shimmied awkwardly out of the robe, revealing a t-shirt and jeans. Still grumbling, he tucked the extra fabric under his arm.
Then he looked up at the night sky, picking out constellations with a calculating expression on his face. He swore.
"I'm too late." He sighed. "That'll make things more complicated." He pulled out the wand again. "Point me Harry Potter." The wand in his grasp lit up at the end, a little beam spouting out into the dark.
The young man squared his shoulders. "I guess I'd better see how good I really am at this saving-the-world business." There was a smaller thunderclap noise as he disappeared into the night as strangely as he had come.
In the morning when the dog went sniffing out mysteries, it found only some flattened grass and old gum wrappers. No one would ever have known that a wizard had been there at all.
The night shift at St. Mungo's psychiatric long term ward was usually pretty quiet, all the patients helped off to sleep with potions and charms. Every so often Marcia Higgleby could hear commotion a long way off in one of the other wards because, really, witches and wizards managed to get into the strangest messes regardless of the hours when decent folks should be sleeping. But no one ever ventured into the sad little space where the lunatics were housed, at least not on purpose. Usually Marcia wiled away the hours by reading terrible romance novels with names like "Merlin's Mistress" or "The Love Potion Bride" and complaining to herself about her uncomfortable shoes that no spell seemed to be able to fix.
So she was surprised to see the young man walking confidently toward her. "Can I help you?" she asked, thinking he was lost. Then she got a good look at his face. It was strange; he should have been completely nondescript looking with that brown hair and those brown eyes but somehow it gave her a jolt when those eyes fastened on her. Such a mild appearance surely didn't belong with that force of personality. She felt embarrassed and young and like she was the one who didn't belong here. Quickly she hid "A Witch's Wedding" under some manila folders. The folders slid a bit, exposing the half-dressed woman on the cover of the book. Marcia readjusted the folders, trying to look important. It would have been a lot easier if she hadn't known she was barefoot under the desk, her shoes kicked off when they started bothering her too much.
Suddenly the man smiled. "Miss Higgleby? I'm the specialist that was sent for on the Longbottom case. Are they still sleeping?"
Marcia started scrambling through the paper work on her desk, looking for some mention of the man's visit. "Er..yes." The files started to look like a volcanic explosion on her desk.
"Perfect!"
"I'm sorry sir but I can't seem to find any mention of your coming. What exactly are you here for?" She eyed the paperwork over her book and hoped those weren't the files that detailed his coming. She held the folders firmly in place with one hand and pulled back just the top corner to peer in. Nope, nothing important, she realized with relief.
"It's extremely experimental. I utilize some new spell developments to view the dreams of patients and devise alternative therapy methods. Tonight is just the preliminary to see if the Longbottoms are suitable candidates."
Marcia ran a hand through her hair, flustered. "I'm going to have to contact my supervisor about this. Do you mind waiting here while I go floo him?"
"Go right ahead."
"I'm sorry sir." she apologized again. She felt for her shoes under the desk and couldn't find them.
"Er…" the man said, waiting for her.
She flushed in embarrassment but then her foot finally brushed against her missing shoe. "Right. Um. I'll be right back." Wincing at the uncomfortable shoes and mourning the loss of time with her book, Marcia Wiggleby minced down the hall, leaving the strange young man alone.
Author's Note: Hopefully you'll like this. I've been toying with the idea since before book 7 ever came out and I finally decided to revamp it and post it. Give me a review and let me know what to fix before the next post!