Disclaimers: J.K. Rowling finally mailed me back, stating that she didn't think she could give me the rights to her books at this time. Phooey. I wrote back, asking if I can at least rent them for a while. We'll see what she says. For now, though, however, I am still but a lowly fanfiction author.
Arthur Weasley was practically dancing with glee. While stony-faced witches and wizards peered warily from over the tops of their cubicles, keeping an eye out for any sign of the intruders, he was humming cheerily. He was so cheerful, in fact, that when he knocked his prized Mickey Mouse clock off the desk in a fit of exuberance, he barely so much as flinched. Normally, the destruction of one his prized Muggle relics would have driven him to tears, but who cared about Muggle gadgets when there was a real Muggle in the building?
He hoped that he might be the one to find the Muggle. He was already impressed with his or her intelligence in infiltrating the heavily warded Ministry—a security hazard, of course, but a Memory Charm would fix that. Perhaps they would let the Muggle sit in his office while the Obliviators were fetched. He hoped so, as he had a few questions about cumpoochers; the screen of the "Windows 2000" he had picked up a few weeks ago turned blue and died at the strangest times. (A/N: Go Macintosh!)
There was some commotion outside his office, and Arthur poked his head outside to see what was going on.
"Got the mangy mutt! Ah! It's as slippery as a greased pig."
"Ouch, it bit me!"
"Oof!"
He watched with amusement as a large black dog, growling and snapping, evaded the six or so wizards attempting to catch it. It skirted around Eric from the Atrium, weaved through three pairs of legs, but when it saw Arthur, it stopped dead.
His stomach lurched as he looked at the animal. The resemblance between it and another large black dog was uncanny. He hated to be reminded of that now, when he had been feeling so carefree...
Just then, a throng of people rounded the corner, and in the front...
"Remus? What are you doing here?"
Surprisingly, Remus Lupin ignored him. "That's my dog, sir!" He reached out and grabbed the black dog by the scruff of the neck.
"Hey," said Eric suspiciously. "Aren't you the one who sent us after him in the first place?"
"Yes, I'm sorry, he got away from me..."
"That's not what you said before. And what happened to fellow he was chasing?"
"I dunno, I guess he got away..."
"How do I know that's really a dog? Bit fishy, really, the same dog coming into the Ministry two days in a row. Maybe it's a person that's been Transfigured. Or maybe it's an Animagus."
"No, sir, it's just a dog. Seriously." The dog yipped and wagged its tail.
"Just to be on the safe side, sir, I'll be obliged to perform the charm." He reached out and pulled the dog back, away from Remus, raising his wand as he did so.
"I, uh, wouldn't do that if I were you!"
"Why not?"
"Ummm... he's allergic!"
Eric stared. "Your dog is allergic to Animagi Reversal spells?"
"Yes, he breaks out in horrible hives."
"How can you tell? He's covered in fur."
"Not on his nose."
"Look, sir, if your dog has any problems, I'll pay for the veterinary expenses. But for right now, I'll be obliged to perform the spell." He pointed his wand at the dog and muttered an incantation. The dog glowed for a moment, silhouetted with electric blue light. Then, he began to change—his fur was receding, his limbs changing in shape and length, his nose becoming shorter...
Arthur gasped. There was a dead man standing in front of them.
"Hello, everybody, I'm Sirius Black, and as much as I'd like to murder you all with a single curse, I really have better things to be doing. Ta ta!" Sirius Disapparated before anyone could so much as blink, and a split second later, Remus was gone too.
"What the bloody hell was that?" asked Eric, white as a sheet.
Arthur paused, and then Disapparated himself. Dumbledore had better be informed.