House: Gryffindor

Position: HoH

Category: Short

Prompt: Earthquake

Word Count: 667

Beta: Tigger


Vernon Dursley had barely removed his hat when he was bombarded with questions from his co-workers.

"Could you feel that earthquake yesterday?" asked the Grunnings accounts manager, Philips.

"Earthquake?" Vernon replied.

"You don't know?" his secretary, Smythe, chimed in. "There was an earthquake with the epicenter in London. It took down Millenium Bridge! It's not like you to not watch the news."

Vernon knew all about the bridge collapse. But he knew what his co-workers did not. This was no earthquake. It was the work of those freaks.

"Ah, yes, that. Of course I heard the news, but it was deeply upsetting to Petunia so we turned the telly off early last night."

Philips nodded in understanding. "I know what you mean. My daughter is off working in London now and my wife and I were on pins and needles waiting for her to call and tell us she was alright. I still can't believe there was an earthquake in London."

'Because it's not true,' Vernon thought to himself. 'Just another cover up that those crackpot fools hide behind.'

"I heard that a bunch of seismologists were holding a televised conference at noon. I'm popping over to a pub during my lunch hour if any of you want to join," Philips offered.

"I'll be working through my lunch hour," Vernon said. "Petunia packed me a lunch today. You are all welcome to go to the pub, but you must be back on time. I will report you if any of you show up late."

Philips and Smythe grumbled at the threat. They quickly returned to their desks, leaving Vernon to begin his work day.

Vernon envied them and he did not like that feeling. His co-workers were so excited about the rare earthquake that had shaken London. They had no idea that it was part of a mass conspiracy to hide another world. He was jealous of their naivete.


When the office emptied during lunch hour, Vernon pulled up a spreadsheet on the profit margins for drills being sold in a warehouse store. But he found his attention drawn away by the newspaper lying in Smythe's recycling bin.

Vernon took a large bite of the tuna sandwich that Petunia had prepared for his lunch, walked over to the bin, and grabbed the paper.

He carefully spread the front page across his desk.

Looking at the photograph of the downed bridge, Vernon was not surprised to recognize one of the emergency response workers as the magical police man who had come to his home before his nephew returned from school that year.

Vernon hated having the freaks in his house.

He searched his memory to try to recall the man's name. Knight? Knightly? Something like that. His billowing purple robes had made the man stand out a lot more than the reflective yellow vest he wore in the picture, but there was no mistaking who he was.

Vernon wondered who it was that destroyed the bridge.

Was it one of his nephew's freaky, little friends playing a prank like they did with Dudley and that wretched toffee last summer?

Vernon shook his head. As much as he loathed his nephew and his ilk, he couldn't believe that Harry would be associated with anyone who would cause mass casualties on a lark.

It must have been one of those evil magicians that Knightly had warned them about. He said that violence in his world was escalating and would likely spill out into the normal world - Vernon's world.

Philips and Smythe burst back into the office.

"You missed a hell of a conference, Vernon!" Philips said. "The experts think that this will only be the beginning of the earthquakes that hit London."

Vernon's gaze fell to the man he recognized in the picture. 'Experts say?' he thought. Out loud, he said, "That doesn't surprise me one bit." He crumpled up the paper and shoved it into the rubbish bin. "Now let's get back to work before the earth moves again."