pTo recap: Mulder and Scully have flown to England to investigate some ruins found in the countryside. Mulder is incredibly excited about the whole affair. Scully, however, is not excited in the least, and has gone out to have a few drinks in a dingy bar while Mulder interviews some key witnesses.
pSpecial Authors' notes: It's not totally out-of-character to have Scully in a bar. After all, she is an adult, and beforehand, we did write her as saying it was a place Mulder would have gone to further investigate the case (/i she /i just finished an autopsy on a dog the size of Kansas).
pExtra-special Authors' note: If you think that this story is out-of-line with the Harry Potter context, juuuuuust you wait...lol.
***
p"Miss? Uh...miss?" The toothless bartender tapped the top of a head of red hair. Scully slowly lifted her face from the bar.
p"Yeah, wassit?"
p"I wos thinkin', miss–since this partner o'yours seems so interested in, er, magic...and you don't seem to believe in it," he added, a little woundedly, "I was thinkin' that maybe you could just...go in back and tap a few bricks on the wall, maybe? Just–for my sake, huh?"
p"Sssssure, cutie. Whatever you say." After a few false starts, Scully managed to stumble out the back door, knocking over a table and a vase in the process. She fell into brick wall with a giggle, and started flapping her hands over the stone. "Hee-hee," she told the wall, and stopped moving. With a last bit of goofy strength, she lifted a finger and tapped a brick to the tune of 'shave and a haircut.' To her intoxicated surprise (as in: "Hey, hee-hee, didn't expect that to happen"), the bricks drew themselves apart from beneath her. She pushed herself away just in time to stay upright, and found herself looking at a suddenly-open archway.
pTilting her head back, Scully spotted a banner over the archway. The letters danced in and out of sight. "Happy New Year," she slurred aloud, reading it to herself. "Two-thousand-'n'-forty-seven. Heh-heh, must've been a misprint." Luckily for our drunken FBI agent that she didn't notice the fact that the letters were, in fact, dancing.
pShe caught herself before she fell forward, and stumbled into a busy, if chilly, street. Folks in dresses were everywhere–more cause for Scully to giggle. Still chortling, she made her way down the street a ways before spotting the least brightly-colored sign. "Olli–olli-vandalism–vanders," she read, turning half-serious for a moment. She pushed the door open, letting it jingle shut behind her, and found herself in a greatly more musty environment than she had previously been occupying. The walls were lined with thin cardboard boxes, stacked precariously. One even fell to the ground as she watched, but went right back to the top of the pile again. "Must be rubber," Scully reasoned. There was a rustle from the back room.
p"Hello, there. Shopping for your daughter?"
p"Daughter? No," Scully laughed. "I don't have a daughter." She hit him weakly, as if to say 'why, sir, what a silly notion.'
p"Ah, dressed as a Muggle I see. Good–I'm glad to see that some witches are still trying to travel incognito."
p"I suppose you broke your wand, eh?" He leaned a little closer and sniffed her breath. She giggled and a made a face. "It must have been some disaster. All right, then, we'll soon have you outfitted with a new wand, miss–what was your name?"
p"Scully," she cleared her throat, straightening out her suit jacket. "I'm an agent with the-"
p"Ministry? Yes, all right, then, try this one out." He pulled a seemingly random box off of a nearby shelf, and pulled out a small wooden stick. "Unicorn hair, cherrywood, slightly whippy. Wonderful for transfiguration." Without hesitation, he shoved the wand into Scully's hand. She held it up in front of her for inspection, smiling.
p"Nope, that one won't work. Here, try this one."
pThe procedure was repeated a few more times, before finally:
p"Phoenix feather, oak, very sturdy."
pA small spark came out of the end of the wand. Scully squinted at it, then giggled.
p"Yes, I'm afraid that's the best we're going to get. That will be eleven Galleons, miss."
p"Yeah, I bet I drank about eleven gallons." Scully laughed a bit more.
p"Right. Your name is Scully?"
pShe nodded enthusiastically.
p"I'll put it on your tab, all right? Come back when you've had some coffee."
p"Byeeeeeeeee, nice sticky-guy! Thank you for the sticky!" The vendor waved politely as she tried pushing the door a few times, before realizing it went the other way. "Ohh-ho." She pulled it open, and paused for a few seconds to blink in the bright daylight.
p"Strangest witch I've ever seen, and I've seen a few. Wonder where she got her last wand. Ah, well." Ollivander headed back into the rear of the shop, without noticing who seized Scully after a few short steps.
***
Stepping lightly to avoid some of the more uncivilized ground decorations in the trailer park, Mulder made his way to the trailer in lot 15, and knocked on the door.
"Yeah, bloody what?"came a hoarse shout from inside. "Who's come to bother me?" The voice grew louder as the occupant of the trailer home made his way to the door, which swung open, revealing an old, grumpy-looking man. "Who are you? I'm not buying anything."
"Mr. Malfoy? My name is Fox Mulder, I'm with the FBI?"
"What, Frenzied Blokes In bikinis?" Some evil laughter escaped the blistered lips of this man, and that was when Mulder realized that Mr. Malfoy couldn't have meant that as a joke for both of them.
"I need to ask you a few questions. May I come inside?"
"Sure, sure, if you have to. I'm not in trouble or anything, am I?" Malfoy stood aside to let Mulder into the cramped R.V. "I'm not answering any questions if I'm in trouble."
"No. I, uh, I just need to ask you about–Hogwarts. Did I say that right?"
"Hogwarts? They're lettin' anybody know about it, huh? Y'know, I was the richest kid there."
"So you went there, too."
"Yeah. Who you been talking to?"
"A Mr. Harry Potter–"
"Potter? He told you to come see me?" The name was dripping with disdain.
"Yeah, he said you'd want to help me."
"Help you? Heck, I'll give you all the bloody secrets available. Say, what's this whole investigation about, then? Am I going to be in the paper?"
"My partner and I have found the body of a dog with more heads than tails."
"Fluffy? He's dead?"
"I'm afraid so."
Malfoy pumped an arm. "/i Hated that bugger."
Mulder cleared his throat. "Mr. Potter mentioned that one of the prime suspects was your son–" here, he suppressed a laugh. "Elvis."
"Elvis? He'd never hurt a fly. Muggles, now there's another story."
Purely looking for information about the case, now, Mulder leaned forward. "Would you suspect anyone you know to have any reason at all to kill this dog?"
Malfoy glared hard at the agent, and Mulder, for the first time, noticed his cold eyes. "No," Malfoy answered firmly after a long pause. "And I suggest you mind your own business...Mudblood. Now get out of my trailer."
"Just one more question, Mr. Malfoy," said Mulder, pushing his luck a little. "How was it you came to be in this trailer?"
"OUT!" Malfoy stood suddenly, pointing harshly at the tiny door. "GO!"
"Thanksforansweringmyquestions,Mr.Malfoy,haveaniceday," Mulder said quickly, backing out the door, since he had noticed the way that his interviewee's hand had shot to his pocket. No gun, obviously, could protect him from this Hogwarts attendees.
Pausing in his car to think, Mulder popped a sunflower seed into his mouth. There was nothing to be done about it. He'd have to beg Scully to come back and help him.
***
There ya go. Feedback gets more chapters, more quickly. Of course, they're coming anyway, lol. :D See ya next time!
pSpecial Authors' notes: It's not totally out-of-character to have Scully in a bar. After all, she is an adult, and beforehand, we did write her as saying it was a place Mulder would have gone to further investigate the case (/i she /i just finished an autopsy on a dog the size of Kansas).
pExtra-special Authors' note: If you think that this story is out-of-line with the Harry Potter context, juuuuuust you wait...lol.
***
p"Miss? Uh...miss?" The toothless bartender tapped the top of a head of red hair. Scully slowly lifted her face from the bar.
p"Yeah, wassit?"
p"I wos thinkin', miss–since this partner o'yours seems so interested in, er, magic...and you don't seem to believe in it," he added, a little woundedly, "I was thinkin' that maybe you could just...go in back and tap a few bricks on the wall, maybe? Just–for my sake, huh?"
p"Sssssure, cutie. Whatever you say." After a few false starts, Scully managed to stumble out the back door, knocking over a table and a vase in the process. She fell into brick wall with a giggle, and started flapping her hands over the stone. "Hee-hee," she told the wall, and stopped moving. With a last bit of goofy strength, she lifted a finger and tapped a brick to the tune of 'shave and a haircut.' To her intoxicated surprise (as in: "Hey, hee-hee, didn't expect that to happen"), the bricks drew themselves apart from beneath her. She pushed herself away just in time to stay upright, and found herself looking at a suddenly-open archway.
pTilting her head back, Scully spotted a banner over the archway. The letters danced in and out of sight. "Happy New Year," she slurred aloud, reading it to herself. "Two-thousand-'n'-forty-seven. Heh-heh, must've been a misprint." Luckily for our drunken FBI agent that she didn't notice the fact that the letters were, in fact, dancing.
pShe caught herself before she fell forward, and stumbled into a busy, if chilly, street. Folks in dresses were everywhere–more cause for Scully to giggle. Still chortling, she made her way down the street a ways before spotting the least brightly-colored sign. "Olli–olli-vandalism–vanders," she read, turning half-serious for a moment. She pushed the door open, letting it jingle shut behind her, and found herself in a greatly more musty environment than she had previously been occupying. The walls were lined with thin cardboard boxes, stacked precariously. One even fell to the ground as she watched, but went right back to the top of the pile again. "Must be rubber," Scully reasoned. There was a rustle from the back room.
p"Hello, there. Shopping for your daughter?"
p"Daughter? No," Scully laughed. "I don't have a daughter." She hit him weakly, as if to say 'why, sir, what a silly notion.'
p"Ah, dressed as a Muggle I see. Good–I'm glad to see that some witches are still trying to travel incognito."
p"I suppose you broke your wand, eh?" He leaned a little closer and sniffed her breath. She giggled and a made a face. "It must have been some disaster. All right, then, we'll soon have you outfitted with a new wand, miss–what was your name?"
p"Scully," she cleared her throat, straightening out her suit jacket. "I'm an agent with the-"
p"Ministry? Yes, all right, then, try this one out." He pulled a seemingly random box off of a nearby shelf, and pulled out a small wooden stick. "Unicorn hair, cherrywood, slightly whippy. Wonderful for transfiguration." Without hesitation, he shoved the wand into Scully's hand. She held it up in front of her for inspection, smiling.
p"Nope, that one won't work. Here, try this one."
pThe procedure was repeated a few more times, before finally:
p"Phoenix feather, oak, very sturdy."
pA small spark came out of the end of the wand. Scully squinted at it, then giggled.
p"Yes, I'm afraid that's the best we're going to get. That will be eleven Galleons, miss."
p"Yeah, I bet I drank about eleven gallons." Scully laughed a bit more.
p"Right. Your name is Scully?"
pShe nodded enthusiastically.
p"I'll put it on your tab, all right? Come back when you've had some coffee."
p"Byeeeeeeeee, nice sticky-guy! Thank you for the sticky!" The vendor waved politely as she tried pushing the door a few times, before realizing it went the other way. "Ohh-ho." She pulled it open, and paused for a few seconds to blink in the bright daylight.
p"Strangest witch I've ever seen, and I've seen a few. Wonder where she got her last wand. Ah, well." Ollivander headed back into the rear of the shop, without noticing who seized Scully after a few short steps.
***
Stepping lightly to avoid some of the more uncivilized ground decorations in the trailer park, Mulder made his way to the trailer in lot 15, and knocked on the door.
"Yeah, bloody what?"came a hoarse shout from inside. "Who's come to bother me?" The voice grew louder as the occupant of the trailer home made his way to the door, which swung open, revealing an old, grumpy-looking man. "Who are you? I'm not buying anything."
"Mr. Malfoy? My name is Fox Mulder, I'm with the FBI?"
"What, Frenzied Blokes In bikinis?" Some evil laughter escaped the blistered lips of this man, and that was when Mulder realized that Mr. Malfoy couldn't have meant that as a joke for both of them.
"I need to ask you a few questions. May I come inside?"
"Sure, sure, if you have to. I'm not in trouble or anything, am I?" Malfoy stood aside to let Mulder into the cramped R.V. "I'm not answering any questions if I'm in trouble."
"No. I, uh, I just need to ask you about–Hogwarts. Did I say that right?"
"Hogwarts? They're lettin' anybody know about it, huh? Y'know, I was the richest kid there."
"So you went there, too."
"Yeah. Who you been talking to?"
"A Mr. Harry Potter–"
"Potter? He told you to come see me?" The name was dripping with disdain.
"Yeah, he said you'd want to help me."
"Help you? Heck, I'll give you all the bloody secrets available. Say, what's this whole investigation about, then? Am I going to be in the paper?"
"My partner and I have found the body of a dog with more heads than tails."
"Fluffy? He's dead?"
"I'm afraid so."
Malfoy pumped an arm. "/i Hated that bugger."
Mulder cleared his throat. "Mr. Potter mentioned that one of the prime suspects was your son–" here, he suppressed a laugh. "Elvis."
"Elvis? He'd never hurt a fly. Muggles, now there's another story."
Purely looking for information about the case, now, Mulder leaned forward. "Would you suspect anyone you know to have any reason at all to kill this dog?"
Malfoy glared hard at the agent, and Mulder, for the first time, noticed his cold eyes. "No," Malfoy answered firmly after a long pause. "And I suggest you mind your own business...Mudblood. Now get out of my trailer."
"Just one more question, Mr. Malfoy," said Mulder, pushing his luck a little. "How was it you came to be in this trailer?"
"OUT!" Malfoy stood suddenly, pointing harshly at the tiny door. "GO!"
"Thanksforansweringmyquestions,Mr.Malfoy,haveaniceday," Mulder said quickly, backing out the door, since he had noticed the way that his interviewee's hand had shot to his pocket. No gun, obviously, could protect him from this Hogwarts attendees.
Pausing in his car to think, Mulder popped a sunflower seed into his mouth. There was nothing to be done about it. He'd have to beg Scully to come back and help him.
***
There ya go. Feedback gets more chapters, more quickly. Of course, they're coming anyway, lol. :D See ya next time!