Author's Note:
I didn't create the ideas behind Harry Potter. Those ideas belong to JK
Rowling.
This story does jump from present to past and back. I don't think this is confusing, so, if you clicked the link to read this story, don't quit yet! Please read (this chapter is slightly over 3 pages long in 12 pt. Font) and review.
Truly Unspeakable
The Story of Rebecca Paudany
I look into the mirror and frown at the face smiling back at me. Even a mirror that shows people in an "optimistic" way can't change the fact that I have always looked awful in black. All Unspeakables wear only black to work, and I'd bet a million Galleons that most of them wear black at home as well.
For the first time since... last Tuesday, I curse the day I ever decided to be an Unspeakable.
"You have the marks to get into any N.E.W.T. courses you want. You have the talent to be competent at whatever job you choose and the will to succeed," Professor Flitwick said at my career advice meeting. He laughed a little. "By Merlin, you would be an Unspeakable if you really wanted."
"An Unspeakable?" I asked.
"A Ministry worker in the Department of Mysteries," he explained.
"What kind of mysteries?" I asked, more curiously now.
Professor Flitwick was frowning, although I barely noticed at the time. "I don't know. I was only kidding. There are only a few Unspeakables, for good reasons. They're very secretive."
If my mind wasn't made up before, it was then. Finding out about the Ministry's mysteries? Being secretive? Having as cool a job title as "Unspeakable?"
"You really think I could become one?"
"Yes, but- ''
"Is it hard to become one?" I interrupted.
"The standards are high, but there aren't many qualified applicants, so there's not much competition for positions."
"What do I have to do?" I asked, excitedly. I had been dreading this appointment because I had no idea what I wanted to do after Hogwarts. Now I had a goal.
"You'd have to get good N.E.W.T.'s in Charms, Transfiguration, Potions, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Divination. Arithmacy wouldn't hurt, either. Then, you'd have to apply and get accepted, of course. And take an oath, but- ''
"Is that all?" I interrupted, again.
"It would be very difficult. That is a lot of challenging classes."
He was right, but I'd been taking a full load of classes, and had been coping well enough with the upcoming OWLS. I was a good student and could learn quickly when I applied myself.
"I can do that."
"I believe you could. Rebecca, please listen. It's not a glamorous job. I've taught a few people who became Unspeakables. I've never met one outside of Hogwarts. There are strict rules that- ''
"They've got to keep their secrets," I said, smiling.
Professor Flitwick frowned even more and sighed deeply. He looked up at me for several seconds.
"Do some research on Unspeakables," he said. "With the classes you'll be taking, you'll have more than enough schooling for most jobs if you change your mind. You may go."
I don't blame Professor Flitwick. I didn't listen to him long enough. I did research on Unspeakables, but there wasn't much more information than what he'd told me, which fascinated me even more. I wanted to know their secrets.
Damn my curiosity. And the Ministry of Magic. The Department of "Mysteries." Oh, it holds mysteries, all right. I'm scared of most of what's behind those doors, and I've only seen about half of what's in the Department. The other half I try not to think about. I know too much as it is.
If only my mum hadn't wandered into that Muggle library when she was fifteen, exploring a Muggle town near her home. If only she hadn't gotten hooked on Muggle literature- namely thrillers. She loved Tom Clancy, that American author who wrote books like The Hunt for Red October. She introduced his books to me.
During my second through fourth years at Hogwarts, I'd wanted to work for the United State's Central Intelligence Agency. I'd wanted to hunt down bad groups with worse weapons. I'd wanted to save the world.
"What do you want to do after you get out of Hogwarts, Becca?" Mum asked me one night at the kitchen table. I was doing homework for my fourth year while Mum monitoring the dishes, which were washing themselves in the sink.
"I want to work for the C.I.A.," I answered, thinking more about the Goblin Rebellions than her question.
"From the books?" she asked.
"Yes."
She laughed. "Why on Earth would you want to do that?"
I told her.
She laughed again. "Becca, it's admirable that you want to help save the world... but why not save your world, and let the Muggles deal with their own."
"There are wizards who work for the C.I.A., Mum. I read it in a magazine at the Healer's office."
"Don't you want to be the Minister of Magic or the Headmistress of Hogwarts or something like that?" she asked.
I laughed. "Mum, those are little kid dreams."
"Are they?"
"Yes. I want to be a C.I.A. agent."
"OK. I'll visit you in America."
I haven't seen Mum or Dad since Christmas, which was six months ago. I don't see much of anyone outside of the Ministry, and those outside of my department I really only see passing in the halls.
I turn away from the mirror. For the past three years and five months, spending a few minutes thinking about how much I despise my job has been a part of my morning routine. The fact that it has been over a week since I remember thinking about it tells me that one of three things has happened.
Number one is that thinking about hating my job every morning has become so routine that I don't remember doing it. It's like brushing my teeth. I brush my teeth the same way twice a day, so when I get to work in the morning and think "Did I brush my teeth this morning?" I can't remember if I did or not. I probably did, but I wasn't thinking about it.
Another thing it could mean is that I've been way too busy to spare a few minutes for an unnecessary part of my routine, especially one that makes me feel depressed. This is possible.... I have been busy.
Finally, I may just be getting used to hating most parts of my job. During a short lunch break, once, my boss, Jacob Bode, told me this would happen.
"All Unspeakables hate their jobs for the first few years," Bode said, taking a sip of coffee.
"I don't hate my job. I loathe it. I despise it. I detest it. Take everything this is locked up in That Room... the love, the honesty, the justice... then take the opposite of it all. That's how I feel about my job," I said, angrily.
He laughed, making me even angrier.
"I mean it."
"I know you do. I haven't forgotten. Maybe I still feel that way, and I've just gotten used to it."
"You don't like your job, then," I said. I was hoping some people could grow to like it.
He sighed. "I'm not sure that it's possible to like our jobs. I'm fascinated by our work. I'm never bored with it. That's something, isn't it? We could be like the wizards in the Treasury Department. They hate their jobs, and are bored with them.
"At least they have lives," I muttered.
"We keep an eye on Life," he answered.
I look at the clock and realize I'm going to be late. I worry for all of two seconds. No one will say anything. A few minutes won't make any difference to the other Unspeakables. They don't have a few minutes to waste scolding me over a few wasted minutes.
I Apparate into the atrium of the Ministry and run to the elevators. Ignoring the other person already in there, I tell the elevator where I need to go. The other person will have to wait. My floor has the priority in this elevator.
"Late?"
I look at the person standing beside me for the first time. I've never seen him before. That's not that unusual. A lot of wizards work for the Ministry and most wizards have business here eventually.
"Not if I run," I answer.
He smiles a little. "You're an Unspeakable, then. All black. Don't have to follow the clock."
"It still doesn't pay to be late."
"No, it doesn't."
"Are you late?"
He checks his watch. "I am... now."
"Sorry," I say, insincerely. "Where do you work?"
"I'm interviewing."
"Sorry," I say again, but meaning it this time.
"What's your name?" he asks.
"Rebecca Paudany."
The doors open and I step out and begin running down the hallway, towards the Department.
"Are you the youngest?" the man calls.
"As far as I know," I yell back as I reach the door. I don't know if he heard me.
I enter the blue, circular chamber and close the door behind me. The twelve doors spin around for a few seconds. I take my wand out of my pocket and hold it out in front of me.
"Rebecca Paudany. Department of Mysteries. Existence Sub- department."
My wand glows a little as the room checks my identity. Satisfied that I am who I say I am, one of the doors opens. I walk through and the door slams shut behind me.
I've been an Unspeakable for four years. In any other department, I'd have been promoted at least three times. In the Department of Mysteries, I have to wait for another sucker to join the Ministry or a very lucky person to die before I'll get out of the Existence Sub-Department.
Most of the department deals with concepts, like love, hate, time, death, life, and knowledge. However, everyone starts out in Existence. It's more cut and dry. It's also exhausting and repetitive. If you don't lose your mind before the next Unspeakable is hired, you're promoted.
This story does jump from present to past and back. I don't think this is confusing, so, if you clicked the link to read this story, don't quit yet! Please read (this chapter is slightly over 3 pages long in 12 pt. Font) and review.
Truly Unspeakable
The Story of Rebecca Paudany
I look into the mirror and frown at the face smiling back at me. Even a mirror that shows people in an "optimistic" way can't change the fact that I have always looked awful in black. All Unspeakables wear only black to work, and I'd bet a million Galleons that most of them wear black at home as well.
For the first time since... last Tuesday, I curse the day I ever decided to be an Unspeakable.
"You have the marks to get into any N.E.W.T. courses you want. You have the talent to be competent at whatever job you choose and the will to succeed," Professor Flitwick said at my career advice meeting. He laughed a little. "By Merlin, you would be an Unspeakable if you really wanted."
"An Unspeakable?" I asked.
"A Ministry worker in the Department of Mysteries," he explained.
"What kind of mysteries?" I asked, more curiously now.
Professor Flitwick was frowning, although I barely noticed at the time. "I don't know. I was only kidding. There are only a few Unspeakables, for good reasons. They're very secretive."
If my mind wasn't made up before, it was then. Finding out about the Ministry's mysteries? Being secretive? Having as cool a job title as "Unspeakable?"
"You really think I could become one?"
"Yes, but- ''
"Is it hard to become one?" I interrupted.
"The standards are high, but there aren't many qualified applicants, so there's not much competition for positions."
"What do I have to do?" I asked, excitedly. I had been dreading this appointment because I had no idea what I wanted to do after Hogwarts. Now I had a goal.
"You'd have to get good N.E.W.T.'s in Charms, Transfiguration, Potions, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Divination. Arithmacy wouldn't hurt, either. Then, you'd have to apply and get accepted, of course. And take an oath, but- ''
"Is that all?" I interrupted, again.
"It would be very difficult. That is a lot of challenging classes."
He was right, but I'd been taking a full load of classes, and had been coping well enough with the upcoming OWLS. I was a good student and could learn quickly when I applied myself.
"I can do that."
"I believe you could. Rebecca, please listen. It's not a glamorous job. I've taught a few people who became Unspeakables. I've never met one outside of Hogwarts. There are strict rules that- ''
"They've got to keep their secrets," I said, smiling.
Professor Flitwick frowned even more and sighed deeply. He looked up at me for several seconds.
"Do some research on Unspeakables," he said. "With the classes you'll be taking, you'll have more than enough schooling for most jobs if you change your mind. You may go."
I don't blame Professor Flitwick. I didn't listen to him long enough. I did research on Unspeakables, but there wasn't much more information than what he'd told me, which fascinated me even more. I wanted to know their secrets.
Damn my curiosity. And the Ministry of Magic. The Department of "Mysteries." Oh, it holds mysteries, all right. I'm scared of most of what's behind those doors, and I've only seen about half of what's in the Department. The other half I try not to think about. I know too much as it is.
If only my mum hadn't wandered into that Muggle library when she was fifteen, exploring a Muggle town near her home. If only she hadn't gotten hooked on Muggle literature- namely thrillers. She loved Tom Clancy, that American author who wrote books like The Hunt for Red October. She introduced his books to me.
During my second through fourth years at Hogwarts, I'd wanted to work for the United State's Central Intelligence Agency. I'd wanted to hunt down bad groups with worse weapons. I'd wanted to save the world.
"What do you want to do after you get out of Hogwarts, Becca?" Mum asked me one night at the kitchen table. I was doing homework for my fourth year while Mum monitoring the dishes, which were washing themselves in the sink.
"I want to work for the C.I.A.," I answered, thinking more about the Goblin Rebellions than her question.
"From the books?" she asked.
"Yes."
She laughed. "Why on Earth would you want to do that?"
I told her.
She laughed again. "Becca, it's admirable that you want to help save the world... but why not save your world, and let the Muggles deal with their own."
"There are wizards who work for the C.I.A., Mum. I read it in a magazine at the Healer's office."
"Don't you want to be the Minister of Magic or the Headmistress of Hogwarts or something like that?" she asked.
I laughed. "Mum, those are little kid dreams."
"Are they?"
"Yes. I want to be a C.I.A. agent."
"OK. I'll visit you in America."
I haven't seen Mum or Dad since Christmas, which was six months ago. I don't see much of anyone outside of the Ministry, and those outside of my department I really only see passing in the halls.
I turn away from the mirror. For the past three years and five months, spending a few minutes thinking about how much I despise my job has been a part of my morning routine. The fact that it has been over a week since I remember thinking about it tells me that one of three things has happened.
Number one is that thinking about hating my job every morning has become so routine that I don't remember doing it. It's like brushing my teeth. I brush my teeth the same way twice a day, so when I get to work in the morning and think "Did I brush my teeth this morning?" I can't remember if I did or not. I probably did, but I wasn't thinking about it.
Another thing it could mean is that I've been way too busy to spare a few minutes for an unnecessary part of my routine, especially one that makes me feel depressed. This is possible.... I have been busy.
Finally, I may just be getting used to hating most parts of my job. During a short lunch break, once, my boss, Jacob Bode, told me this would happen.
"All Unspeakables hate their jobs for the first few years," Bode said, taking a sip of coffee.
"I don't hate my job. I loathe it. I despise it. I detest it. Take everything this is locked up in That Room... the love, the honesty, the justice... then take the opposite of it all. That's how I feel about my job," I said, angrily.
He laughed, making me even angrier.
"I mean it."
"I know you do. I haven't forgotten. Maybe I still feel that way, and I've just gotten used to it."
"You don't like your job, then," I said. I was hoping some people could grow to like it.
He sighed. "I'm not sure that it's possible to like our jobs. I'm fascinated by our work. I'm never bored with it. That's something, isn't it? We could be like the wizards in the Treasury Department. They hate their jobs, and are bored with them.
"At least they have lives," I muttered.
"We keep an eye on Life," he answered.
I look at the clock and realize I'm going to be late. I worry for all of two seconds. No one will say anything. A few minutes won't make any difference to the other Unspeakables. They don't have a few minutes to waste scolding me over a few wasted minutes.
I Apparate into the atrium of the Ministry and run to the elevators. Ignoring the other person already in there, I tell the elevator where I need to go. The other person will have to wait. My floor has the priority in this elevator.
"Late?"
I look at the person standing beside me for the first time. I've never seen him before. That's not that unusual. A lot of wizards work for the Ministry and most wizards have business here eventually.
"Not if I run," I answer.
He smiles a little. "You're an Unspeakable, then. All black. Don't have to follow the clock."
"It still doesn't pay to be late."
"No, it doesn't."
"Are you late?"
He checks his watch. "I am... now."
"Sorry," I say, insincerely. "Where do you work?"
"I'm interviewing."
"Sorry," I say again, but meaning it this time.
"What's your name?" he asks.
"Rebecca Paudany."
The doors open and I step out and begin running down the hallway, towards the Department.
"Are you the youngest?" the man calls.
"As far as I know," I yell back as I reach the door. I don't know if he heard me.
I enter the blue, circular chamber and close the door behind me. The twelve doors spin around for a few seconds. I take my wand out of my pocket and hold it out in front of me.
"Rebecca Paudany. Department of Mysteries. Existence Sub- department."
My wand glows a little as the room checks my identity. Satisfied that I am who I say I am, one of the doors opens. I walk through and the door slams shut behind me.
I've been an Unspeakable for four years. In any other department, I'd have been promoted at least three times. In the Department of Mysteries, I have to wait for another sucker to join the Ministry or a very lucky person to die before I'll get out of the Existence Sub-Department.
Most of the department deals with concepts, like love, hate, time, death, life, and knowledge. However, everyone starts out in Existence. It's more cut and dry. It's also exhausting and repetitive. If you don't lose your mind before the next Unspeakable is hired, you're promoted.