Written for the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition, Season 5, Round 7 – Wigtown Wanderers vs. Appleby Arrows
Position: Keeper
Prompt: Write about two witches or wizards going undercover in a Muggle town and having to learn to live like Muggles.
Word Count: 2,850 Words
Betas: DinoDina, Aelys_Althea
Entry for The Ultimate Doctor Who Challenge/Competition
Sarah Jane Smith - Write about an auror
I hope you all enjoy it, I'm looking forward to your feedback.
Scone Wars
Mrs Jane Foster was proud to say that she was always informed about what was going on in Drury Lane, the street she'd called her home for over forty years. She knew who was moving out or joining their community; she knew everything about people's occupations, their daily routines, and whenever a family crisis started to rise, she would make sure to sit in the front row to get all the juicy details. Additionally, she always had an eye on the order in her beautiful street and wasn't afraid to make a neighbour aware of the fact that the tulips in their front garden weren't aligned perfectly. In her eyes, a perfect English lawn wasn't much to ask for; everyone driving through their street was supposed to feel a pang of jealousy at the sight of the houses and gardens, all clean and looking like they were prepared to accommodate the Queen for a garden party.
And it was all working out just wonderfully for Mrs Foster and her neighbours – or at least she liked to think that it was like that, that everyone appreciated the effort she invested in making their neighbourhood a better place.
Drury Lane was a perfect haven without any oddness, free of persons and behaviours that didn't fit.
Until the day a moving truck came to a halt with screeching tires in front of the neighbour's house after driving over the perfect patch of petunias by the road.
OoO
"Well, that went better than I thought," Enid Longbottom said cheerily as she climbed from the driver's seat of the truck. "What do you say, Alastor?"
"I would have preferred to battle ten Death Eaters instead of getting into this truck with you," he grumbled back while flexing his fingers with a grimace – seconds earlier they'd been digging into his seat as he held on for dear life.
"You're always so pessimistic. I think it was good for the first time."
She shot him a smile before turning towards the house, hands on her hips. "Well, doesn't seem too shabby. Quite ordinary, these Mugg – uh, people."
"I still wish they'd chosen someone else for this mission. I have so much paperwork on my desk that it's bending in the middle," Alastor stated, not bothering to hide his grumpiness as he opened the back of the truck. He really didn't know why Dumbledore had insisted that he accompany Enid on this surveillance mission – even someone as temperamental and impulsive as she was couldn't fuck this up. But the old man hadn't listened to his argumentation at all, repeatedly saying that this was an important mission, and so he was stuck with acting like a Muggle for who knew how long, living with one of the most stubborn, frustrating and fascinatingly quirky women he'd ever met.
They didn't really pay much attention to the shadow behind the lacy curtains, and thus were unaware of the judging gaze of Mrs Foster, who scrutinised their appearance thoroughly and was quite horrified. The man looked brutish, scars all over his face, a slightly dirty coat spanning over his muscular back and shoulders; the woman was petite, her hair fluttering around her head in wild, ash blonde curls, and Mrs Foster muttered a quick prayer to herself when she saw that she had a few piercings in her ears. Also, the combination of brightly coloured and unmatched pieces of clothing she wore… Ghastly.
She had the feeling that the quiet days in Drury Lane were numbered.
OoO
Enid and Alastor spent the rest of the day carrying the few pieces of furniture they'd been provided with into the house and wondering how Muggles ever moved house with all the stuff that they had to take. After they were done, they were too exhausted to have a look around their new undercover home and discover all the non-magical things and technology around the house and went to bed as soon as they'd discussed which room would belong to whom.
The next morning came too fast for Enid's taste, and she was wishing she hadn't agreed to only use her wand in an absolute emergency when Alastor knocked at the door of her room at seven in the morning and scolded her for sleeping until noon – all she wanted in that moment was to curse him. It took her some time to get out of bed, and then she needed quite some more to sort through the Muggle wardrobe she'd been provided with, feeling unsure what to combine even though she'd been given a quick crash course.
Alastor didn't say anything when she came downstairs in a bright yellow blouse, only the lower half buttoned, blue dungarees only fastened over one shoulder so they didn't hide her laziness with the buttons, her beloved, muddy boots and a fedora on her head, though she noticed that his gaze jumped to her cleavage for a moment. A small smirk stole its way onto her lips at that, and she assumed that she was wearing those Muggle clothes the right way from the lack of commentary.
"I'm hungry," she simply stated as she joined him in the kitchen, and eyed the electrical stove with a healthy amount of distrust. Alastor shot her a glance and agreed that he would like some breakfast too, and she rolled her eyes when he made a quite expectant expression. "No. I don't know how to operate this thing either! Also, did you bring any ingredients for a breakfast?"
"I thought you would…"
"Yeah, me too! I guess we have to find a place to buy food."
While bickering about whose fault it was that they didn't have anything to cook breakfast with – Alastor had almost said something sexist, but Enid's glare had stopped him just in time – they left the house with the foreign-looking Muggle money they'd been provided with and a basket, planning to search for the nearest store.
Alastor immediately noticed that something had changed when they walked through their front yard, and Enid teased him for being overly paranoid when the supposed threat turned out to be the newspaper.
"You're always so dramatic," she said with a cheeky grin, picking up the paper from the ground and inspecting it; Alastor glanced over her shoulder with interest, his warm breath tickling the sensitive skin of her neck. "Weird. The pictures aren't moving."
She cocked her head in wonder and confusion while Alastor grumbled something about finding this very suspicious when she added: "It's seriously creeping me out. The people in the photos are just staring at us, how do Muggles cope with that?
Suddenly, Alastor's arm wrapped around her waist in a quick movement and he pulled her closer, shielding her with his own body from the person of course only he could hear approaching them. Her heart jumped in surprise, overwhelmed by his sudden touch, but she pushed it down, and Enid was just about to protest when she heard the sickeningly sweet voice of a woman who was forcing herself to at least appear polite. "You must be the new neighbours. I'm Mrs Foster, and welcome to our beautiful neighbourhood."
Enid luckily clicked as fast as Alastor had earlier, slinging one arm around Alastor and leaning into him – she could feel him tensing slightly – while turning her head to face the elderly woman, smiling politely and ignoring that Mrs Foster was giving her attire an openly disapproving onceover. "Thank you so much. I'm Enid, and this is my boyfriend, Alastor."
Mrs Foster didn't offer her hand to shake, so Enid pulled hers back quickly, masking the movement with a light pat on Alastor's muscular chest that caused him to give their new neighbour a curt nod.
"What a pleasure to meet you two," Mrs Foster replied stiffly, and somehow Enid had the feeling that her words weren't sincere. "You… you aren't married?"
"Not yet," Enid hurried to answer, cutting Alastor off before he could do anything stupid; she got the impression that Mrs Foster was an old-fashioned woman and that implying that they were in a serious, committed relationship would gain them plus points with her. If they admitted they were only colleagues and friends living together, and Enid unmarried… the old lady would probably have a heart attack.
"Oh, so you're engaged?"
Once again, Enid was faster than Alastor, whose annoyance she could sense from the way his posture changed at her words. "Yes, we are. My engagement ring is with my parents, I didn't want to risk losing it during the move."
It was interesting how much her words seemed to soothe Mrs Foster, and suddenly she seemed a tiny bit more willing to accept her. "That's wise, dear. Now, we're having a street festival next week; I hope you two will come. Enid, why don't you enter the baking contest? Most of the other ladies take part too, the motto this year are scones!"
"Well, thank you," Enid said with a smile, squeezing Alastor once. "We're looking forward to it, aren't we, darling. If you excuse us now, we have to get some shopping done!"
Mrs Foster nodded and was gone to take care of her begonias just as quickly as she'd appeared; Enid and Alastor slowly walked down the street and Enid asked quietly: "What, by Merlin's pants, is a street festival?"
"If you don't know what it is, why did you agree for us to go there? What if it's something dangerous?" Alastor hissed and Enid rolled her eyes. "Also, why did you say that we're engaged?"
"Who of us two is the trained Auror, huh? Didn't they teach you that it's wise to blend into your surroundings when undercover? They seem pretty conservative, so acting like we're engaged will open us some doors. See how she invited us to their… whatever and got more friendly when I said we're going to get married? Stop being so weird about it, nobody's going to force you to marry me in real life."
She tried to make it sound like a joke, but as they exchanged a glance, neither of them were grinning and awkwardness hung between them as they continued to make their way down the street.
"Fine, we'll go to that street thing," Alastor agreed after a few minutes of silence, knowing that he didn't have any choice anyway because Enid always found a way to get what she wanted.
"Great. Now I only have to find out how Muggles bake. What could go wrong? Sounds easy if every woman here does it."
"I'll start looking for a new house."
OoO
A few days later, Alastor seriously started wishing Dumbledore would show up and tell them that it wasn't necessary for them to keep an eye on the street anymore. His feeling that chasing Death Eaters was the safer activity had only grown stronger lately, especially during the first days when Enid had started trying to figure out the Muggle oven for her baking. She'd found a Muggle cookbook with a scone recipe at the store and silenced his repeated doubts with some sassy comebacks; now he was living with the fear that she could get them both killed with her experiment. Enid had almost smacked him when he'd asked her why she didn't just use some magic for the baking, reminding him that they were supposed to live like Muggles before going back to her burnt dough clumps.
However, by now he felt like she was just too proud to admit that she would love to get her wand to do some magic on her scones, and her stubbornness and unwillingness to let him be right in the end made her only more determined. It seemed like she barely ever left the kitchen anymore, baking night and day and forcing him to taste her results, and getting mad when they didn't seem quite right – and she felt like that every time, it seemed.
Her behaviour got even worse after Mrs Foster came over one afternoon, obviously attracted by the smell of burnt dough coming from their open kitchen windows, and he was truly proud that she didn't lose her temper when the elderly lady gave her unasked advice. Enid sent him to buy more ingredients and made even more batches of scones, determined to prove that she could bake in the Muggle way and that Mrs Foster was a smug old hag, and so he had to taste nearly a dozen different scones a day. Alastor had to be honest about her improvements, and after some days, he started to trust that she wouldn't accidentally poison him. Also, the little smiles on her exhausted face when he told her that the new batch of scones tasted better than the ones before made him less worried about his fitness for a few minutes.
Still, the day of the street festival arrived far too fast for her taste and Alastor had to unpack all his persuasion skills to get her out of the kitchen and the house with her final batch of scones – blueberry with lemon glaze – and bring them to the baking contest. They walked around the festival for some time to clear Enid's head, feeling surprisingly comfortable about holding hands to play the happy couple while they explored all the curiosities the Muggles had to offer. And it was quite fun, although Alastor remained distrustful of the man making balloon animals for the children.
After about two hours, they returned to the baking contest stand, nervous as the head judge stepped in front of the gathered crowd with a big smile, announcing that the jury had picked a winner. Mrs Foster looked absolutely excited and Enid felt like the elderly woman expected a win, and nothing else.
"And the best scones were from… Enid Longbottom!"
Mrs Foster's smile fell and she shot Enid an absolutely loathsome glare, but Enid remained blissfully unaware of that as she squealed in joy and hugged Alastor so suddenly that he swayed slightly. He made a surprised noise before wrapping his arms around her and holding her against his chest, showing a rare display of happiness with the small smile on his lips. Everyone around them was applauding while Mrs Foster – who hadn't been defeated in fifteen years – pushed her way through the crowd and disappeared.
Enid's cheeks were pink as she and Alastor drew apart from their embrace after a good minute and she was a little jumpy when she accepted the prize from the head judge; Alastor, meanwhile, spotted a familiar face in the crowd and furrowed his brows in confusion. Leaning down to Enid, he tried to ignore the sweet scent of her perfume clouding his senses and mumbled into her ear: "Dumbledore's here."
Their heads almost collided as Enid turned hers to stare at him with wide eyes, then they both gazed over to the old man approaching them, attracting weird glances from some people for his bright purple paisley shirt, pinstriped suit trousers and, of course, his long hair and beard. He smiled at them kindly, his blue eyes sparkling with amusement as he stopped right in front of Enid and Alastor and gestured at the small, cupcake-shaped trophy Enid was holding. "My congratulations, Enid. I'm looking forward to tasting your scones."
"What are you doing here, Albus? Did something happen?" Alastor asked, keeping his voice low so only Enid and Dumbledore could hear him speak; the old wizard chuckled softly and shook his head.
"No, everything is perfectly fine, my friend. I was simply curious about this little festivity and I must say, it's quite fascinating, isn't it? I also wanted to tell you that you can abandon the mission. My worries proved to be wrong," he explained calmly and Enid shot Alastor a glance while touching his back, having the feeling that he would get mad about having wasted his time in the Muggle neighbourhood. Dumbledore smiled at them and eyed how close the two younger people were standing. "But I have the feeling that this wasn't completely in vain. Now, I think I will have a look around."
And with that, the old wizard vanished in the crowd, leaving Enid and Alastor behind with their confusion. Alastor cleared his throat and asked with forced casualness: "Do you know what he was talking about?"
"No, not at all."
"Me neither. Come on, then. After being your test subject for so long I deserve to taste one of your winning scones," he grumbled, placing a hand on Enid shoulder while they walked over to the plate with Enid's scones.
Both were surprised to feel some sadness mixing into the relief of being able to return to the magical world and neither of them would admit it, but despite the difficulties, they'd enjoyed their stay in the Muggle neighbourhood.