Dudley Dursley couldn't believe his terrible luck. It was only his second day driving his new car and already it was taken away from him. Not by his parents. No, they would never take anything from their perfect son. The police, or something, took it from him. And the only way he could get it back was by going into some office and filling out some paperwork.
Normally Dudley would have gotten his father to handle this for him. After all, he's was too important to deal with such things. But his father was at work and in an extremely important meeting that they refused to interrupt, even though this was a huge emergency. So Dudley had to go in himself.
When he walked into the building the first thing he noticed was that it was completely empty. He thought, for a moment, that maybe it was closed. But the sign on the door clearly said the office was open and since the door wasn't locked, any normal person would assume it was open for business.
There were many chairs around the main area, which made up a waiting room of sorts. Obviously the room was created with the fact that it would be very busy in mind. At the back of the room, farthest from the doors, was a wall made up of counters for people to get some service. There were glass windows where customers could talk to the employees. They were separated enough that if someone was talking to one of the people working here, someone else talking to another person wouldn't get distracted. There was a ledge on the other side of the window, where there was a gap between the top of the counter and the bottom of the glass, so things could be passed back and forth.
Overall, a completely normal office other than the fact that there was no one there and all the places where there should have been employees were empty. All the glass windows had signs on them indicating that they were closed. Except one. Desk Number 3.
Dudley walked over to that window, unsure of what he was supposed to do exactly. He couldn't actually see behind the counter very well, since there were walls next to where the employee would sit. But he couldn't see anyone at all.
He suddenly noticed that there was a bell sitting on the ledge. He hit the top of it multiple times, sending soft dings throughout the room.
The employee that arrived to assist him came out of nowhere. Like he had been hiding under the desk. He had red hair, freckles and a huge smile on his face. Dudley recognized him immediately. "You!" he hissed, pointing a finger at the other man dramatically.
"Hello, sir. How may I be of service to you?" he replied, ignoring the fact that Dudley seemed to be terrified.
"You're one of those freaks! Harry's friends!" Dudley spat. "What are you doing here?!"
The man continued to smile at him. "How may I be of service?" he repeated.
Dudley decided, right away, that there must be something wrong with this guy. He figured that he might as well get this over with. The faster he got this done, the faster he could forget about ever seeing this red-haired idiot. "They took my car," he informed him.
"I'm sorry, sir. I can't help you until I call your number. Please have a seat."
Dudley started at the man for a moment, then blinked. "What?"
"I can't help you," he repeated, "until I call your number."
"There's no one else here!" Dudley pointed out, waving his arms at the empty room.
"Take a number, sir."
Dudley ground his teeth together. "Where?"
The main tapped on the glass while indicating where he was supposed to get his number from. Dudley quickly snatched it up. And waited. "Well?" he asked.
"I haven't called your number yet, sir. Please have a seat."
Dudley then realized that this man was so stupid, he didn't really understand half was what he was saying. He thought he should just humour the guy, so he wobbled over to the nearest chair and sat down.
The moment he did the man slowly leaned forward and put his mouth near an old looking microphone. He clicked one of the buttons. "Number one, to desk three," he said clearly.
Dudley rolled his eyes and walked over to the man's desk. "They took my ca-"
"I'm sorry, sir. Please wait until I call your number."
"You did call my number!"
"Then can I see your ticket please?"
Dudley slammed his ticket onto the ledge, then looked at the man expectantly.
"I can't get to the ticket if it's on the other side of the glass, sir," the man pointed out, as if he was taking to a child.
He didn't really want to have to put his hand on the other side of the glass - he really didn't trust this guy at all - but he saw no other choice, so he did it anyway. The man picked up the ticket, looked at it for a moment, nodding, and flicked his fingers so the little piece of paper would just fall to the floor.
"That would be the ticket I called, sir. How may I help you today?"
"They took my car."
The man frowned. "If someone stole your car, then you should go to the police, sir."
"The police took my car!"
"I see. Fill out these forms, then." The man put down a clip board, with multiple sheets of paper attached with it, down on the desk in front of him. He then slowly slid it under the glass so Dudley could take it.
Dudley rolled his eyes and picked up the pen that was chained to the desk to start filling out the paperwork.
"Oh, not here, sir," the man said. "I need to ask you to sit down so I can help other customers."
"There are no others!" Dudley yelled. The man just continued to smile at him, so Dudley disconnected the pen from the chain - ignoring the man's protests - and sat back down in his chair.
It took him at least an hour to fill out all the forms. And it cost him too much money to do so. He needed to call his mother to help him answer some of the questions, but not only was he not allowed to use his cell phone inside the building, but he wasn't allowed to take his stuff outside. So he had to use the payphone, which liked to repeatedly hang up if he talked for more than ten minutes.
Once he was finally done he went back up to Desk Number Three.
As Dudley walked up, the man smiled at him. "Hello, sir. How can I help you today?"
"I'm finished with these forms," Dudley replied, trying to stay calm. He pushed the clipboard under the glass.
The man pushed it back.
"I'm sorry, sir. Please wait until I call your number."
"You did call my number!"
"Then can I see your ticket please?"
"You took it already!"
"I have no memory of that, sir."
Dudley could have screamed. But he was the better man, so he took another number and stood there, waiting for the man to call his number. The man just smiled at him. So Dudley calmly turned around and sat in his chair. The man leaned forward to use the microphone, so Dudley stood up. To his annoyance, the man just sat back and smiled at him. So Dudley sat back down.
"Number two, to desk three."
Dudley stood up, walked over and slid his ticket under the glass. The man looked at it like before, and then let it fall to the floor.
"That would be the ticket I called, sir. How may I help you today?"
Dudley, once again, slid the clip board under the glass. "I finished filling these out. Now can I have my car back?"
"I have to fax these over," the man said kindly. "Please have a seat while I do that."
He practically growled as he stomped away to sit back down in his seat. He watched as the man disappeared for about five minutes, then returned to his seat. Dudley wanted to go up there and talk to him, but knowing how annoying this man was he'd tell him some stupid story about the fax machine being broken or something. Then again, he didn't feel like being here all day.
So Dudley stood up and walked up to the counter. "Is it done?" he asked the man.
"Ticket please," the man said cheerfully.
Dudley ground his teeth together, grabbed a ticket and slid it under the glass. The man picked it up and looked at it, but instead of flicking it onto the floor he slid it back over to Dudley.
"I'm sorry, sir. But I haven't called that number yet."
"WHO CARES!?" Dudley yelled. "YOU STUPID FREAK! THERE. IS. NO. ONE. ELSE. HERE!"
"Sir, if you don't calm down I'm going to have to call security," the man said. "And I'm trying my best to help you," he said, making his voice sound way too innocent, "so I would like it very, very much if you wouldn't call me a freak. My name is clearly displayed, " the man tapped his name tag, "right here."
Dudley took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. Maybe if he started calling the man by his name he would consider Dudley a friend. Then maybe he would work a little faster. He looked at the man's name tag for the first time, glaring at the letters written there. "Okay, George," he said slowly. "Now, can you please call my number?"
The man, George, smiled at him. Dudley thought, for just a minute, he was going to be useful. "I'm sorry, sir. But everyone needs to wait for their number to be called." He pointed over at the chair Dudley had been sitting in. "Over there."
"Fine!" Dudley spat, almost jogging over to sit in his chair. "There! I'm sitting. Call my number!"
George smiled and leaned forward. But instead of using the microphone, he hung up a sign on the glass that said 'closed'.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?" Dudley yelled, running over to bang on the glass as George started to walk away.
"It's my lunch break," George replied. "Oh, I'm sorry. You must be hungry." He walked back over to Dudley and slid a bowl of candy under the glass. "Toffee?"
Dudley glared at him, but reached for a candy. But as he picked one piece up, George stuck his tongue out at him with an odd look in his eyes and a smirk. Dudley thought that it would be wise to not eat any of this candy, so he put it back in the bowl. George just shrugged and walked away.
While George was gone eating his lunch, Dudley thought many times of leaving to get something to eat. But he didn't want George to come back while he was gone and call his number. So he just sat there and waited.
He waited for more than half an hour before George returned. Deciding to be kind for once, George called Dudley up right away. Dudley handed over his ticket and George looked at it. For the third time, he said, "That would be the ticket I called, sir. How may I help you today?"
"Did you fax those forms?" Dudley asked.
"Yes," George replied.
Neither of them said anything for a moment. "And?" Dudley finally asked. "What now? Do I talk to someone else?" 'Please say yes,' Dudley though.
"Yes," George said again.
"Finally!"
"But first," George said quickly. Then he paused dramatically. "License and registration please."
Dudley was glad that's all he wanted. He, of course, brought both of those things with him. He was glad that he always kept a copy of his registration with him, because he doubted George would let him get the other copy from his car. He handed it over, smiling at the disappointed frown that appeared on George's face for about two seconds.
"Thank you, sir," George said. "I'll just fax these over with the other forms."
His eye twitched. "Why didn't you just fax them over before?"
"You didn't ask me to."
"I SHOULDN'T HAVE TO ASK. IT'S YOUR JOB TO TELL ME TO GIVE IT TO YOU!"
"Sir, am I going to be forced to call security?"
"NO!" Dudley yelled. "I mean, no. No, it's fine. Just fax it over." Dudley started to walk back towards his chair. But then he paused, took a ticket, and walked back to his chair.
George disappeared like he did before, returning five minutes later with Dudley's things in his hand. He put in on the desk in front of him. But instead of calling Dudley's number, he reached over and... picked up a toothpick. He then proceeded to pick the food out of his teeth for about ten minutes.
Dudley waited 'patiently' the entire time. Right when he felt like he was going to just run over and kill George, the other man put down his toothpick. "Number four, to desk three."
He ran over and slammed the ticket down on the counter. George looked at it for a minute, then slid it back over to Dudley. "I'm sorry, sir. This isn't the number I called."
"WHAT!?" He looked down at the ticket, and sure enough it had the number five on it. He slowly walked back over to his chair, trying not to suddenly explode and start destroying things. He sat down and stared at George, who raised his eyebrows in a way that clearly said 'you can't win this, buddy' and smiled.
After waiting for another five minutes, George finally called Dudley's number.
"That would be the ticket I called, sir. How may I help you today?" he said for the fourth time.
"Did you fax everything?" Dudley asked.
"I did," George replied, sliding Dudley's license and registration over to him.
"And?" Dudley prodded.
"And?" he repeated.
"Now what?" Dudley asked.
"That's it," George said. "Just go over to Desk Number Seven to get your keys and directions to where your car is."
"THANK YOU," Dudley practically yelled. Not because he was thankful, of course. He was just glad it was over. So he walked over to Desk Number Seven, a huge smile on his face. That is, until he say who was sitting at the desk.
"Hello, I'm Fred Weasley. How can I help you?" Fred greeted with a smile.
Dudley stared at him.
Fred smiled.
Dudley stared some more.
Fred's smile became a little smaller.
Dudley's eye twitched.
Fred frowned.
Dudley ground his teeth together.
Fred looked at him in confusion.
Dudley grabbed his head with both hands, screamed and ran out of the building.
"Wait, sir!" Fred called after him, jumping to his feet. "Your keys! I HAVE YOUR KEEEEEEEEEYS!"
But Dudley was already gone. Fred slowly sat down, a look of pure confusion on his face. "Hey, George," he called.
"Yeah, Fred?"
"Why do people always get scared and run away whenever they see me?"
"No idea, Fred."