Christopher Finlay was seated in his office in the Department of International Magical Cooperation, his quill scratching across a roll of parchment that had already been filled with seven feet of tiny writing. It was an extremely important assignment on standardizing the international Apparition age to 17, and Finlay had stayed well past his usual time to complete it. As he was writing a reference to the Splinching of three Canadian teenagers due to their young age, the buzzer to his office sounded.
"Who is it?" Finlay called in a rather harried voice. Who could possibly want something from the Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation at ten in the night?
No one answered his question. Finlay stared at the door, annoyed, for a few moments, then grumbling, returned to his report.
"Probably Magical Maintenance again. I told them, I didn't need my windows polished, but they don't listen. Perhaps it would be worth cursing someone's office just to give the idiots something to do," Finlay muttered under his breath as he dipped his quill into the ink pot on his desk.
The buzzer sounded again. Finlay looked up angrily once more.
"Who is it?" he called again, infuriated. There was no response to this either.
"I don't want my windows polished! I've told you time and again, they're perfectly fine," Finlay shouted at the door. The buzzer sounded one more time as he was yelling. Finlay, extremely angry, stood up and stalked to the door.
"What do you want?" he roared, opening the door. Outside, a thin wizard, no more than twenty-five years old, held his wand pointed at Finlay's face.
"Slowly walk backwards," the wizard commanded, his wand steady. Finlay obeyed, cursing himself for leaving his own wand lying uselessly on his desk.
"Who are you, and what do you want?" Finlay asked defiantly. How dare this stranger threaten him in his own office?
"Sit down, Mr. Finlay, so we can speak in a more civilized manner," the stranger spoke quietly. Finlay collapsed into the guest chair in front of his desk. The stranger waved his wand at the door, locking it. He grabbed Finlay's wand from his desk, and stowed it into his robes. His own wand again pointing at Finlay's face, he sat down in the Finlay's own plush desk chair.
"Now, Mr. Finlay, I have a few questions, and I'm sure you can answer them all. If you do as I say, this whole business will be over in a few moments," the intruder said, leaning forward. "Can you get me a job at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry? Is it within your power?"
"Well, well of course it is," Finlay sputtered, still staring warily at the stranger's wand.
"Imperio," the strange wizard said, wand still pointed directly at Finlay. All of a sudden, Finlay's eyes took on a glassy stare and his mouth slackened. All the anger appeared to have washed from his face.
"You will write a letter to Minerva McGonagall, and inform her that she is to immediately appoint me as a professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. You must tell her that it is of utmost importance that I am given the job, and that the Ministry will have no option but to interfere further at Hogwarts unless this is done. Do you understand, Mr. Finlay?" the wizard instructed, now pacing the room. When he turned around, Finlay had already begun writing upon a piece of parchment.
Within minutes, Finlay had written the missive, and the strange wizard had checked and sealed it. The wizard went over to a cage by the window where a massive barn owl slept quietly. The wizard shook the cage harshly, until the poor owl awoke, hooting in protest. The stranger opened the cage and let out the angry owl, who had realized by then that something was wrong and was attempting to bite this intrusive stranger.
"Imperio," the wizard said again, this time directed to the owl. The owl went just as slack as Mr. Finlay had, and the wizard tied the missive to its right leg.
"You'll deliver this straight to Minerva McGonagall at Hogwarts, understood?" the stranger said to the owl. It hooted weakly in answer and flew off into the dark night.
The wizard turned back to Finlay, who was still seated in the chair, looking confused and weak. He strode over to him purposefully and laid a hand upon his shoulder.
"You will continue working as though nothing has occurred between us. If anyone from Hogwarts comes asking about why you've made them appoint me, you will say that you believe my abilities in handling the Dark Arts far surpass any other person's. You will say that you believe a year in my care will create opportunities for the students that they have only dreamed of. You will say that we have only met once, and this was because you were interviewing me for the job. You will announce your decision to the Daily Prophet tomorrow morning," the wizard told Finlay. The Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation bowed his head and nodded.
"Excellent, then I suppose I made my decision correctly. You are a perfect choice in order for my plans to succeed. You've been quite useful, you have," the wizard said. Appearing satisfied, he turned and vanished, leaving Christopher Finlay alone in his office to complete his report.