Disclaimer: The Ministry of Magic, Theodore Nott, the Wizengamot, Harry Potter and all associated belong to JKR. London and its miserable weather belongs to itself, or maybe the Crown; we are happy to play in these joint sandboxes, but we do not own them. Unfortunately. Anne Fairleigh belongs, nominally, to us, but we're not sure what Theo thinks of this.
Chapter the FirstIn Which: It Rains in London, Theo Frightens Ministry Employees, and Fish N Chips Frighten Theo.
March 2000, London
It was wet. Spring in London is almost invariably wet; and that day there was the added bonus of a cold wind driving through the rooftops, sending rain in a constant cold stream and chasing everyone from the streets. Well, nearly everyone; everyone with the exception of Theodore Nott, striding down an alley in Muggle London, damp, tired, and extremely angry. Angry with the weather; angry with the Ministry of Magic that still would not let him Apparate or Floo into the foyer; angry, irrationally, with everyone dry and warm; and angry, if in a slightly milder way, with his girlfriend. Who worked at the Ministry. Who worked at ungodly hours, long after everyone sensible had gone home, that is, six o'clock. And who was consequentially the reason he was walking through Muggle London, wet and cold and…
The black-cloaked figure paused, looked around him, and said a bad word. Turning on his heel, he took two paces down the alley, and slammed into a …. What was the word? A telephone booth. As if it wasn't ridiculous enough sitting the Ministry in Muggle bloody London, the access had to be through a dirty and defaced Muggle artifact. Pulling the door shut after himself with needless force, he savagely jabbed five numbers on the dial, and spoke quickly. "I'm Theodore Nott, I'm here to pick up my girlfriend, I'm cold, I'm wet, and hurry up!"
"Please take your badge, sir, and have a nice day."
Muttering, he took the silver badge (Theodore Nott, Love Interest)… and then sighed, and leaned briefly against the wall of the booth. London in March… Not exactly good for my sweet and even temper, is it?
The booth ground down into the interior of the Ministry of Magic, and Theodore straightened hastily. Probably people down here, even at this hour…nutters like Anne…Glancing around, he stepped out into the foyer and looked around. The elegant long hall gleamed at him, and he unconsciously ran a hand through his hair. The peacock ceiling was the same, the fireplaces, but down the hall…Walking down a corridor lined with fireplaces, surrounded by people, Theodore Nott clutched his father's hand and stared, wide-eyed, at a gleaming golden fountain.
"Mister Nott!" Exclaimed a fat man dressed in purple. "How wonderful to see you. I suppose this is your son?"
"Yes, Minister, this is Theodore..."
Theo shook his head slightly. The fountain was gone, now, replaced by a considerably more tasteful statue of a group of three wizards and a witch that he vaguely thought were the first four Ministers of Magic. Thank goodness they blew it up in fifth year. Probably the most civic thing Voldemort ever did. Walking past, he turned automatically and headed towards the Department of Magical Law Enforcement- and was stopped by a man in robes that matched the ceiling.
"Excuse me. Wand check. Over here, sir."
Theo looked at the man. Simply looked, using everything he'd ever learnt from his father and his teachers and his schoolmates until the man began to fidget.
"Please, sir, regulations. It's worth my head, sir."
Theo sneered, but allowed himself to be scanned by a thin gold rod, and gave up his wand for inspection. Anne would say I was being a petty boy, taking my temper out on others. He shrugged mentally; and then sighed. Too late now. Besides, I'm wet, I'm cold, I'm obviously not a threat- but there was no obviously. A scant year and a bit after the end of the war, nothing was obvious, and nobody was taking chances. I suppose it's better than an ineffective Ministry. Theo sighed.
"Are you quite finished?"
"Yessir. You can go, sir."
"Thank you."
Stalking past the man, he headed towards the lifts, surrounded by a gaggle of chattering, chainsmoking, arguing, moaning and bustling Ministry Employees. As he headed towards a lift, a gangly redhead brushed past, talking loudly to a shorter woman with short curly hair that Theo reognised instantly as Hermione Granger. He caught a fragment of the conversation as he followed them into a lift.
"Well, but honestly, you'd think they'd have at least some elementary idea of security. It's really shocking; they're frightfully lax at their Ministry. Australia may have been far away from the war but that doesn't excuse it."
"No, of course not, Perce; Voldemort didn't just threaten England; but there's a widespread arrogance, really, it's terrible."
"Well, quite; and it's so much more work for me! Speaking of which, how are the house-elves?"
"That's why I'm here today; I'm speaking with the Department for the Regulationa and Control of Magical Creatures about their rights, really, they may be beings but they're horribly under-represented…."
"Oh, my floor, Level Five. Good luck, then!"
"Thanks-"
-and the redhead- that must be Percy Weasley. I never worked with him- marched out of the lift. Hermione glanced around.
"Theodore! How are you, I haven't seen you for so long! I heard you were working in France at the moment, restoring the charms around Beauxbatons, I had no idea you were back in England-"
Theo knew he had to cut her off. "I'm not."
She blinked. "Oh. Well then, why are you here?"
He shrugged, slightly. Damned busybody Muggleborn- leave me alone, Hermione. "Business."
She gave him a startlingly sly look. "I heard Anne was working for the DMLE- oh, lord, Level four, must dash- see you round, Theo, give my love to Anne-"
Theo watched her go. She hasn't changed a bit- house-elves, good Lord. He settled back, and was surprised by the chimes of the lift announcing "Level Two, Department of Magical Law Enforcement." Well, finally. He strode out, and glanced around. Now, here we are… Administration Services for the Wizengamot.
Pushing through a thick oak door, he entered a room full of cubicles, still quite noisy even though it was, by this time, nearly seven. Turning around, he searched the room- and smiled, as his eyes hit a familiar head of short feathery hair, leaning against the back of a cubicle reading something. He headed in that direction, stepping quietly in order to surprise her, and tapped her on the shoulder.
"Still working, little Hufflepuff?"
Anne Fairleigh shrieked in surprise, and spun round, face lit with a startled smile.
"Theo! What are you- don't you ever- oh!"
Reaching over the cubicle, she threw her arms around him and gave him a hug.
"I thought you were in France?" she said, leaning against him happily. "Not that I'm complaining, but what are you doing here?"
He shrugged. "I missed you. Can't imagine why, but I had a week off, so I Floo'd home. Then I had nothing to do, so I came to take you out to dinner, because you shouldn't be working so late. It's seven o'clock, Anne, that's exploitation. Take a break, for heaven's sake!"
She grinned at him mischievously. "Oh look, it rhymes. Anyway, I don't usually work so late, but they needed me-"
"Oh, come on! Are you even getting paid for this? And it's not like this is a one-off thing, I bet. Anyway, quit, they can't need you that much and if they do they can't have you, come have dinner."
She sighed. "I should finish this- it's a report on the actions of Aurors during the war, whether they should have given their families that extra information; I'd really like to know how it comes out, actually, it's fascinating."
"Anne."
"Yes?"
"Will it be there tomorrow?"
"Well, probably-"
"Right. You have thirty seconds to get your things and then I'm Apparating you out, I don't care if we do Splinch."
"Theo!" She scurried over to her desk, grabbed a briefcase, and began throwing things in it apparently at random- a pen, her purse- Theo took the time to look around her cubicle. One wall was covered in Muggle and Wizarding photographs. He looked a little closer, and saw a picture of what must be Anne's extended family; one of her sister in Hogwarts robes; several of her parents and siblings; a couple of her classmates; one of Hogwarts; several- Theo was surprised- of him, including one he didn't know existed of himself and Anne on the shore at Hogwarts; and a large wizarding photograph full of students in Hogwarts robes waving wands at the camera, leaning on each other, laughing, and generally mucking about. He recognized the photo; he had a copy himself, sitting in a drawer somewhere. Colin Creevy, Loony Luna Lovegood, Seamus Finnigan, Ernie Macmillan, Dean Thomas, Lavender Brown, Ginny Weasley, students of all houses, even Slytherin, Estella Haywood, the Patil twins, Justin Finch-Fletchley , Tony Goldstein, Terry Boot, Neville Longbottom, Zacharias Smith, Susan Bones. And the Dream Team, of course, Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley, Hermione Granger. Me. Anne. And then the people he hadn't wanted to see, coming fast, Michael Corner and Hannah Abbott and Dennis Creevy. Dumbledore's Army, beginning of seventh year, just before- before Michael died-his heart squeezed, and he turned away from the photo very fast, to find Anne watching him, a bulging briefcase resting by her feet..
"Theo?"
He looked up, and managed a grin. "Alright, then, let's go."
"Where to?"
"Oh, I don't know, I was going to let you decide."
She looked at him consideringly- and then her eyes sparkled. "Oh, I know- I'm going to get you fish and chips."
"Pardon?"
"Er- fish and chips. It's a Muggle thing."
"Oh, no, Anne, I am not eating in Muggle London. Have you seen it out there? It's pouring, it's freezing- there must be somewhere else."
"Oh, no, it's alright- we'll take it back to my flat, you don't have one, do you? Go on, Theo- what are you, scared?"
"Certainly not- no, don't say it!"
She giggled. "Your surname does lead to the occasional pun, you know."
"I am perfectly cognizant of that, thank you very much, my last name has been my last name for nineteen years. But I don't have to like it!"
"Well, then. Prove that you're Nott a person who says not-"
"Anne!"
"-and be adventurous. Oh, come on, Theo, how bad can it be?"
He glared at her. "Perfectly bad enough, I'm sure!"
"Oh, good!"
He snorted. "That wasn't a yes-"
-she interrupted. "Thanks, Theo, you'll like it- it's just down the road." She hefted her briefcase, and he reached out and took it off her with an acquiescent sigh.
"Allow me."
"My! How terribly polite."
"I was always taught a gentleman should be as helpful as possible to a lady."
"Really? Now, that is interesting. I could get to like this."
He laughed, and swept a bow.
"After you."
They
emerged into Muggle London with rain still pouring from an apparently
inexhaustible supply somewhere in the sky.
"Oh, lord, it really is raining, isn't it?"
"Yes. I did tell you."
"Of course you did... but it doesn't matter, really, it's just down here, come on!"
Anne dashed off down the alleyway and around the corner. Muttering imprecations, Theo followed, the briefcase banging against his legs. Coming onto the main street, he looked about, and saw Anne standing underneath a blue, flashing sign that screamed "Fish N'Chips" to the world. As he came up, he asked, gesturing to the sign,
"I thought you said this was a Muggle shop?"
"Yes- that's fluorescent lights, Theo!"
"Oh. Ah. Of course. "
She laughed. "Let's go in."
She pushed past a glass door that gave a pale tinkle and went up towards a white counter, clean but dull, behind which stood a brown-skinned woman with a wide face, a broad nose, and an even bigger grin.
"Talofa, Anne!"
Theo blinked. Talofa? What on earth-
"Hi, Alisi. How's business for the best Fish and Chip shop this side of the Pacific?"
"Oh, pretty good, pretty good. Our fame seems to be spreading. Had that Amy Clements in here yesterday complaining about her local shop- but what can I say. You can't trust the British to do a decent pack of Fish and Chips."
"If they only knew what they were missing out on!"
The woman laughed. "Oh, I think some of them do- still, takes a Kiwi to sort them out. Anyway, what can I do for you- and who's this handsome gentleman?" she added with a sly grin.
Theo, unbelievably, blushed. Anne glanced at him and decided, quietly, that he was rather sweet when he blushed, and made a note to tell him so. Soon. Hmm. What was the question again? Oh, yes…
"Two- oh, no, he's a guy, make it three pieces of crumbed fish and… two scoops of chips, I think. Salt. Lots of salt. And this is Theo. Theodore Nott, Alisi Nonu. Theo, Alisi." And taking a deep breath, "He's my boyfriend."
"Delighted," Theo managed, still blushing a little.
"And they say chivalry is dead. Very pleased to meet you, Theo." Just then the door clanged, and she glanced round them. "Customers… Hi, what can I do for you?"
Anne grinned and grabbed Theo's hand.
"Come sit down," she said, dragging him over to plastic seat by the window, and flopping into the one next to it. "This is a typical Fish and Chip shop. Note the plastic chairs and the pile of Woman's Weeklies- just like Witch Weeklies only more so."
Theo shuddered. "Not compulsory reading, I take it?"
"Oh, some of it isn't too bad- I'm joking!" she added hastily. "Actually, I lie, this isn't a typical shop, or not for Britain, because Alisi's from New Zealand."
"I noticed the accent. Most strange."
"Yeah, I think she's actually Samoan… possibly by birth…. But she shifted to Britain a while back, and this section of London found out about real FishNChips. We're all desperate for good chips now… once you taste these you'll never be happy with the typical soggy potatoes ever again."
"Uh, I haven't actually eaten these… fish and chips… before. What are they- actually?"
"Hmm… well, chips are potatoes cut into long thin strips, and obviously you know what fish is. You take lots of raw chips, and a piece of fish, and you deep fry them."
"You what?"
"Deep fry- er, you stick them in a kind of pan of netting, and boil them in oil and fat, sort of."
"You boil them in fat? Tell me it's not the same fat for every serving. Please."
"'Fraid so… oh, come on, it's not bad, and they do taste good."
"Not that bad? That's revolting! It cannot possibly be edible."
"Oh, it is, honestly."
Theo gave her a look, and she laughed. "Fine, don't believe me. Look, I'll get them, and if you don't like them there'll be something else at home, or probably anyway… I don't think there's anything rotting, or anything, so there'll be something edible."
Just then Alisi bent over the counter.
"Three crumbed fish and a scoop of chips?"
"That's us- thanks, Alisi."
"My pleasure."
Anne swung up from the plastic chair and grabbed a packet of pale paper.
"Come on, then!"