She was awake at dawn but didn't get out of bed, rather she cuddled closer to him, a heavy sigh on her lips as she turned her face towards the clock. He was still half asleep, tucked under the blankets with his arms around her. He wondered briefly how long it would take to find out what had happened to magic, or how long it would take for them to give up. Everything was so uncertain.
When the time came, she sat up stiffly, and he followed behind her. They already had everything they needed packed up, so it would be a quick departure. There was just one change she needed to make.
"Kyle, I don't think this is going to work. Your brother is a bit bigger than I am," Neville pulled on the excess fabric of the suit to show her, but she barely glanced at him. She snapped her fingers, and—zip!—it shrank. It wasn't a perfect fit, but it was enough that he could at least move without tripping. "What's with the suit anyway?"
She had dressed in a similar outfit, hair pulled back in a bun. "We may need to meet someone today. It's up to what Kingsley can do, but we… well, being prepared is the best thing we can do. Otherwise, we may be delayed."
Neville wasn't exactly thrilled about the vagueness level in the room, but she was in charge, so he kept it to himself and followed her lead. Actaea and Duncan were already up, still in their pajamas as they made their morning tea. Kyle said her goodbyes, and it was more somber than he wanted to stomach. They all knew the dangers, but they seemed willing to accept the risks. Actaea just had one last piece of advice as she embraced her daughter.
"Come back home. I left that world for a reason, so be careful."
"I'll be back soon, Mama. Don't worry."
Neville took her hand, giving Duncan and Actaea a friendly wave, and everything faded into that melty, liquid feeling again as she transported them… somewhere.
When the world came back into order, they were in a narrow alleyway, the cold rain pouring down on them. Recklessly, neither had brought an umbrella, so they kept their heads down as she guided them into the foot traffic and down the street.
"I would have just brought us directly into the Ministry, but without enchantments, the building is no longer quite what it's supposed to be," she explained, trying to be as quiet as she could with all the buzz around them. It worked out well, though, as they were close. An old, abandoned building with boarded up windows was so inconspicuous that Neville almost didn't recognize it himself. The giveaway was the disheveled "police officer" out front, miserably holding his own umbrella as he guarded the doors. They approached, and he straightened up.
"Hold it," he said, trying and failing to look intimidating. "Just where do you think you're going?"
"Your bag, Neville," Kyle said, holding out her hand. He gave it to her, and she pulled it open and rooted around until she found his wand. She showed it discreetly to the officer, but he just crossed his arms.
"I can't just let anyone with a wand stroll into the Mini—this building. Official business only."
Kyle shrugged, handing Neville his bag and wand back. "Okay. Official business only." She held out her hand, and the rain above her stopped, droplets hanging in the air like tiny suspended crystals. "I'm pretty sure any business I have to conduct at this minute is official."
The fake officer let his jaw hang open slightly, just for a moment before snapping it shut and stepping sheepishly out of the entryway. "Official business, then. Carry on."
Kyle gave him a thankful little nod before they hurried into the relatively warm, dry interior of…
Wait, this was the Ministry of Magic?
It was truly back to being an abandoned building. Cold, tile pathways flanked by raggedy, molded carpets, the entire building filled with make-shift desks. Parts of the walls were destroyed, showing the wiring and leaky plumbing, and the dingy yellow overhead lights buzzed and made Neville feel sick almost immediately. It was absolutely crammed in here, with just the narrowest of space to move about between desks and solemn Ministry employees. But even though it felt like there were loads of people in there, there must have only been a fraction of the total number of officials in the whole of the Ministry. Of course, there wasn't much use for anyone in the Improper Use of Magic office to come to work when there was no magic to improperly use.
Neville was vaguely aware that Kyle had grabbed the arm of some flustered-looking official in a dusty suit and whispered something. He shook his head, indignation on his aged features, until Kyle held a hand between their two bodies and showed him something that seemed to horrify him. Once his wide-eyed disbelief had calmed down, he nodded, and Kyle let him go.
"What was that about?" Neville asked her when she returned to his side.
"I'm sure you can understand that no one is supposed to be disturbing Kingsley at the moment while he's dealing with everything going on, so I am going to have to do parlor tricks to get in. I feel like a fucking court jester," Kyle replied, pulling her sleeves down. She pointed over at the man who she had just grabbed, talking to a large bald man who was sitting outside the door to what looked like it may have once been a toilet. "See? One step closer."
Once the bald man and Kyle had made eye contact, she started off in his direction, dodging desks and employees and scattering Elves. Neville tried to keep up, but she was far too quick and he couldn't catch her. But he was still close enough to catch the conversation that ensued.
"Kingsley isn't seeing anyone at the moment."
"I assure you, he will want to speak to me," Kyle said, as gently as she was capable.
"For what purpose?" The bald man puffed up as if she were challenging him, which Neville hoped he didn't mean.
Kyle nodded her head towards the door. "Ask him. Tell him Kyle Cunningham is here with information."
They stared at each other—this big, towering man glowering down at tiny Kyle—but before he turned a solid shade of purple, he turned sharply and entered the office. There was a muffled, short conversation, followed by the shouted word, "NOW," and the bald man backed out through the door again, holding it open and gesturing for Kyle and Neville to enter.
Inside, it clearly was an old toilet. The stalls, sinks, and toilets had been removed, the holes in the floor and walls hastily covered with mismatched rugs and oddly placed landscape photos that looked like they might have been pulled out of a rubbish bin. Kingsley, who had been sitting behind his desk, hurriedly stood and came around to greet the pair.
"Minerva wrote—gave me the short version of everything you told her. I'm a little baffled, I have to say," he said, nearly whispering as he took their hands for a quick shake out of formality. There was an old, corded phone on his desk that gave a short ring before he grabbed it, took it off the hook, and hung it back up. "Nymphs and Greek gods? What the hell is happening?"
Kyle looked at Neville, raising her eyebrows before turning back to the Minister. "To make matters as short as possible, magic is really complicated. When we use magic, we are borrowing the power of an ancient god. It seems there's another god—I don't know who, where or why yet—who has somehow blocked humans from doing magic. They left nonhumans alone, so this is specifically targeted at humans from what we can tell. What I need to do is jump into the Atlantic ocean and find Atlantis because that's apparently where my aunt lives, and she probably knows a lot more about this than I do."
Kingsley gave her a contemplative frown, absorbing what she was saying. "Atlantis?"
"Yes, sunken kingdom ruled by Poseidon. Literal Atlantis."
He sighed and leaned against the wobbly desk. "You know, I really thought we had all of this worked out. I thought our histories were more or less complete."
"We all did. And, if it's acceptable to you, I would like to keep everyone convinced that we do know it all. I don't think that bringing all of this to everyone's attention is the best idea," Kyle said, taking a look around the office for the first time.
Kingsley clasped his hands together in front of his body. "So, what do I need to do for you? How do I help you?"
Kyle hesitated, perhaps not wanting to ask for what she needed. "I don't know if you, yourself, can get me what I need. But it's possible that you can get me in touch with the person who can."
Kingsley raised a brow, waiting for her to continue, even though she was struggling to get the words out.
"We need passports and funding. I don't have the power to just apparate anywhere I want, or this would be a lot easier."
Kingsley nodded, then turned to look at the phone on his desk. "I think I've got an idea of how to get them, but I'll need you to step outside so I can make a phone call."
Kyle and Neville went back outside, ignoring the glaring look of the bald man, and stood at the other side of the door next to an overflowing trash can.
"Wait, so, who is he calling?" Neville asked, feeling like he wasn't following the conversation.
Kyle didn't meet his gaze. "Not someone I particularly care to meet if I'm honest."
Neville decided now was not the time to ask more questions, so he just stood silently, hands behind his back. He watched the Ministry officials work at their desks, some buried in books, some working on large stacks of paper, some awkwardly typing at computers and looking absolutely confused. There wasn't much talking between them all, but they worked diligently, occasionally moving about. There were whispers in conversations he could hear—the history of magic in Syria, the different blood compositions of creatures able to use magic. He wanted to scream the truth—that magic wasn't lost; it was stolen. But he didn't have all the answers yet, and he didn't want to out Kyle like that. So he waited.
After what felt like an hour, Kingsley opened the door, an umbrella in his hand. He looked around for a second before locating Neville and Kyle and giving them a wave over.
"Alright, are you two ready to go?"
Neville furrowed his brow. "Go where?"
Kingsley looked off towards the door of the building. "10 Downing Street."