Maxwell Rosebrick had had a rough day at the Presidency of Magic. Of course, the Salem Witches' Institute had had to be infested with a particularly nasty case of Bundimuns. And, as Rosebrick was in the Department of Bylaw and Assisting of Magical Creatures, it was his duty to visit his nation's school to help.

Rosebrick remembered fondly his days at the Institute. First getting his wand. His wands a long, slender thing, deep in color and very long, at 13 inches, with a unicorn tail hair, and a slight point on the end. Of course, Rosebrick is a very loyal and caring man, and instantly chose to be placed into Amiable, as there they decided what house to be in, the house of the kind and hard-working. But, he has a slight edge and can let out the sharpest remarks and actions when need be.

And so, with a jovial heart, Rosebrick strode into his old, dusty, cracking fireplace, after throwing some floo powder in, and yells, "Salem Witches' Institute, Principal's office!"
And with a flash, colors swirling before his eyes, he landed with a thump in on a hard wood floor. Quickly he springs up, turning to the Principal.

"Ah, Mason!" Rosebrick greeted Principal Mason Adams of Salems' Witches Institute, while shaking his hand. Of course, Rosebrick knows Mason from school. Not only in their work, but when they attended their magic school Adams was only 5 years ahead. Recently appointed Principal, Adams took on the job with full enthusiasm. They remembered cheerily of the time when Rosebrick was lost in the many hallways of the Institute, and Adams found him and brought him back to the Amiable living room.

"Good to see you, Max, the others will be here shortly!" exclaims Adams, and with that several more men and women popped out of the fireplace, all smiling broadly.

"Hello, Mason, long time no see!" said a short stubby man with a joyful disposition and fluffy blonde hair.

"Greetings, Albert!" Adams said to Albert Collins of the Department of Bylaw and Assisting of Magical Creatures.

"Hello, Mason!" said the newest recruit to their department, a women fresh out of school, only 19, by the name of Samantha Cook, who performed remarkably when their team had to rescue hippogriffs from their abusive owners.

"Hey, Sam! Not so long ago you were here, eh?" says Adams, to which Cook nods her head gleefully.

"Yes, well-" and Cook is interrupted when another woman pushes her over, after springing out of the fireplace with gusto, splutters out an apology to the chuckling Cook.

"I think the whole team is here, would you say?" asks Rosebrick, to which everyone nods. Rosebrick is there, Collins is there, Cook is there, and the oldest of them, Cassie Bailey, a 51 year old witch, is there.

"All right, well-" starts Mason, but the Charms teacher, Matilda Cox, bursts in, frantic.

"Oh, good, your here!" she exclaims, hurrying over to them.

"The whole fourth floor in overrun and crowded with Bundimuns! They're completely destroying everything, the tapestries and paintings are being burned, the occupants running downstairs for their lives, 'overcrowded' the other paintings say, when those join them, the century old staircases of the finest wood getting ruined and your all just sitting here chatting!" she exclaims her face bright red and her wavy brown hair falling everywhere.

"Don't worry, Matilda, they're going," says Adams, patting the old witch's shoulder comfortably. Well, Matilda isn't old, at 59, for a witch, but compared to the fresh witches and wizards around her, she isn't too young.

"Alright then, well, go, shoo, go get rid of them," she says, waving the team of four out the door.

The four of them stride down the hallway, saying 'hello' to a few friendly paintings as they go by, and then climb the rickety stairs, that shake beneath their feet, that will lead them directly to the fourth floor.

Once they get there, Rosebrick holds up his hand for them to stop, and they all take out their wands.

"Let's stick together," Bailey whispers, to which they all nod. They'll be more powerful together.

And that's when a bolt of acid shoots at them, missing them by a mere centimeter. And they look up at the fourth floor ceiling. Which is all green, and moving. Because the ceiling is covered with Bundimuns.

"Ouch!" yells Collins as acid brushes his shoulder, and green seeps into his skin, and his shoulder looks burnt black and charred.

"Cover us!" shouts Rosebrick, and he leans over Collins, casting the correct healing spells, as the rest make a protective circle around them.

"Scourgify!" they all yell at the oozing creatures, and Rosebrick and Collins are up again, incanting the spell all together. Their focused energy causes the hallway to shake with cleaning, and the hallway, including them, turns sparkly clean, shining even.

"Around the corner!" says Bailey, as they see green slime oozing around the corner. Cook takes a packet and throws the contents, a white powder, around the corner. The Scourgify Solution was a new invention, a powder that someone could brew to get rid of more Bundimuns than the spell would.

They run around the corner, in time to see all the Bundimuns there disappear as the white power hits them. Casting a quick spell to clean up the powder, they inspect the damage. Decaying ceiling, floors, and walls. Ripped tapestries and paintings. Mold and black char everywhere.

The quickly cast some spells to fix some of the damage, and then walked through the rest of the fourth floor. None left.

"Looks like it's not as severe as Matilda said, eh?" jokes Cook as they make their way downstairs and to the Principal's office. Swinging it open, Adams and Cox rush to them, asking how bad it is.

"Well, we got them all. And we fixed parts of the damage. Just a few burns here and there, some ripped tapestries, we didn't see the painting of Ward there, might've been disintegrated," reports Bailey. Ward was an old warlock, who was always in his plush burgundy armchair next to a fireplace in his painting on the fourth floor, ready to tell anyone a story of excitement from his past, or to help anyone with any problem.

"Great, thank you!" says Adams. "I'll mention it to Watson how good you guys were, kay?"

Watson, who's first name is Ian, is the President of Magic. His highest of the high grades at school, charming personality, and great spell work got him the most votes for President. Of course, it was hard for him, going against William Warner, but the witches and wizards of the day found Watson more suitable. Watson got 78% of the votes, and won without even having to do a recount.

And with that, one after the other, after Cox rushed out of the room to check the damage upstairs, of course, the team jumped into the fireplace and shouted the location of their homes.

Right before Rosebrick was to leave, Adams grabbed his arm and told him to wait.

"Yes, Mason?" asked Rosebrick.

"Well, as you know, term starts in a couple weeks. And, our Care of Magical Creatures teacher, Wilbert, you know him, right? Well, he's fallen ill. He'll recover soon enough, don't worry! But, would it fit into your schedule if you could substitute?"

"Of course!" says Rosebrick, excited out of his mind to go back to his old school, even if it will only be for a little while.

"Great! I'll send you the details with Woodrow, shall I?" says Adams, happy that it went so smoothly.

Woodrow would be his pigeon. Of course, about half of the magical population of the United States of America used owls, and the other half used pigeons. The Muggles had been smart enough to train pigeons, but only wizards and witches could use pigeons the best for mail. And, Woodrow, is a high quality pigeon, clean and with brilliant purple and scarlet creeping up his otherwise silver feathered neck. His intelligent, beady, black eyes shine with superiority whenever he performs a task perfectly. And he always performed his tasks perfectly.

"Of course, Mason. Goodbye!" and with that, Rosebrick jumped into the fireplace, after throwing some powder in, of course, and yelled his address, with only good thoughts in his mind.