Disclaimers: I don't own the Harry Potter books; they own me!
Remus, Sirius, and their feline-loving companion trudged down the dingy London street. Sirius was formulating a plan in his head. But how to convey it to Remus with Scott standing right there?
"Uh, hold on, I'll call the, uh, studio on my sellytone, to let them know we're coming," said Sirius. "Remus, what was that number again?" He grabbed a thoroughly confused Remus by the collar and dragged him over by some trash cans, where they stood hunched together, backs to Mr. Blask, who seemed unperturbed by their unnatural behavior.
"What the hell are you trying to do? He'll get suspicious! And it's sellyfone, not sellytone!" hissed Remus at his friend, who had whipped an imaginary "sellytone" out of his pocket and was pretending to dial a number.
"Did you say four or five?" said Sirius loudly, and then whispered, "Look, this guy is so daft he wouldn't notice if I whipped out my wand and turned him into a newt. I have a plan, but I couldn't say it with him standing right there."
"A five," replied Remus noisily, and adding in an undertone, "What?"
"Okay, once we get into the Ministry, I'll tell him I'm going to get the photographers. As soon as I'm out of sight, I'll turn into a dog, and come bounding toward you. Blask's a cat person; I bet he'll be wary of me. Especially when I start growling and snapping and chasing him around."
"How does this help us?" said Remus. Sirius always came up with the most harebrained schemes.
"I'll chase him right toward the Department of Mysteries, while you go tell the security people that there's a dog on the loose, and lead them off to the other side of the building. Then, you give them the slip and come find me. By then, hopefully, I'll have succeeded in driving our friend right through the Veil!"
"You," said Remus. "Are a bloody idiot. That is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard!"
"Well, your brilliant plan from the beginning was to 'wing it from there.' This is what I call winging it."
"Oh, fine, if we must. But I've never heard of a plan where so many things could go wrong..."
"My sellyfone isn't working," said Sirius loudly, cutting off the whispered conference. Remus rolled his eyes. "We'll have to try a foney booth!"
"There's one right there," said Scott Blask helpfully, pointing at a rather dilapidated specimen nearby.
Perfect. Sirius walked into the "foney" booth and picked up the receiver, which was badly battered. "Oh, come and look at this, uh, er... fone!" he said loudly. "There's something wrong with it!" Scott clambered into the booth behind him to examine the telephone, and Remus followed suit. It was rather cramped, but as usual Scott seemed oblivious to the peculiarity of the situation.
"Vandals," he said wisely, eyeing the broken phone. "Vandals killed my cat Becky last year. I gave her a proper burial."
"Er... right..." said Remus awkwardly, partially because of what Scott had said and partially because his face was shoved up against the wall in a rather uncomfortable manner.
"Maybe it works anyway," said Sirius, and quickly dialed 62442.
"Welcome," said a cool female voice. "Please state your name and business."
"Dang, this never happened to me in a telephone booth before," said Scott.
"Thank you," said the voice. "Visitor, please take your badge and attach it to the front of your robes.
A badge shot out of the coin slot, which read, "Dang This: Never Telephone Booth Happenings."
"Er, right," said Sirius, slipping the badge into his pocket. "Skip the rest, we know what to do. Oh, uh, and Scott, I forgot to tell you... this is the secret studio entrance! Good surprise, huh? Eh heh heh..."
Remus groaned. What the hell was wrong with Sirius? Azkaban had addled him... No, on second thought, he had always been like that.
"Right," said Scott. He sounded slightly curious now.
The floor of the booth rumbled and moved downwards.
Eric the security guard was having another bad day.
A man had come running crazily up to his desk, panting and wheezing.
"Hey, sir! There's a stray dog or something in here... big and black... chasing some poor guy..."
Merlin's Beard, not that again!
"Where is it?" he said out loud.
"Down that way..." The man pointed down the hall, clutching his side.
Eric snatched up his wand and called to some of his colleagues.
"Hey, that mutt's back again. We'll get him this time!"
They jogged down in the direction the man had indicated, while the man himself sneaked off unnoticed.
Remus stopped to rest a moment in a deserted corridor. Everything was going to plan; in fact, he would have been optimistic if the plan had not been so abysmal in the first place. But aside from that, Sirius's predictions had been correct. As soon as Blask had seen the snarling, black, hulking hound, he had gone rather white and muttered something like, "I don't like dogs..." And when Sirius had snapped his jaws and lunged toward him, he had gone sprinting in the other direction, Sirius at his heels. Security personnel were searching for him on the other side of the building, Sirius himself could certainly deal with any of the ordinary employees he encountered, and Blask, numb with terror, would probably be easy to lure into the trap. This might actually work.
Then, there was a voice over the building's magical intercom, booming and echoing off the stone walls of the passage.
"Attention to all security personnel, Ministry employees, and visitors! An unidentified number of Muggles and a stray animal have infiltrated the building! Would all Obliviators report to the Atrium, and would everyone please remain vigilant for any signs of the intruders! Thank you!"
"Oh, damn," said Remus, and hurried away.