Setting the Trap
I don't want the cheese, I just want out of the trap!" (Spanish Proverb)
It was six o'clock in the morning on a bright September day that promised to turn rather sunny and hot. At the Ministry of Magic everything was still quiet. A grumpy-looking witch with orange and green striped robes and a hat with a large poppy blossom pattern in matching colors and a long purple feather walked into the office of the Chief of Muggle Liaisons and dragged a large, bristly broom behind her. She gave the ornate name-plate by the door that pronounced Mr. Lucius Malfoy the occupant of the office an angry flick with her fingers causing the "Y" to snap off and dangle upside down.
With a huff she looked around the rather elegantly furnished office, scratched her spiny salt-and-pepper hair and sat the broom upright.
"Scourgify!" she commanded and the self-cleaning broom started to sweep obediently.
The witch next pulled a feather duster and a polishing cloth from the voluminous pockets of her robes and set them to work in a similar fashion. With nothing else to do she briefly looked around and then, knowing herself to be alone, she sat down behind Mr. Malfoy's broad desk, put her feet up on the silver-embossed black leather blotter and unfolded the latest copy of the Daily Prophet which a Ministry owl had delivered only minutes earlier. The witch didn't seem to like what she read, because she could be heard muttering unhappily from behind the rustling pages.
To the side of her up on some bookcases a small brown mouse poked its snout past a large, leather-bound volume of the Wizarding Atlas of the British Isles and observed the witch curiously. In the meantime the enchanted duster was making its way up the shelves and almost managed to sweep the little animal off its perch. But the mouse gave one of the ostrich feathers a vicious bite and the duster shook itself angrily and decided to move on.
Finally the cleaning equipment had done its job. The witch carefully re-folded and replaced the newspaper, vanished the collected dust and dirt with a flick of her wand and grabbed her broom.
"Bathrooms next," she growled at her cleaning utensil. "That bloody bastard! One of these days…"
The rest of her angry monologue got lost as she closed the office door behind her with a resounding bang.
Up on the shelves the mouse tapped the folio next to it with its snout.
"Merlin, this is cramped," she squeaked.
"Shhh!" answered the Atlas. "At least you're an animagus. You're in luck. How much fun do you think I have pretending to be a book? And keep your nose back, Marigold. We don't want any one to see you and try to kill or vanish you. I'm sure things will be moving soon."
The mouse curled up next to the book, her whiskers twitching unhappily.
"I hope they get on with it," she sighed. "I hope this works."
They had to wait for another hour or so, when the door to the office opened again, and Mr. Malfoy's current secretary poked her head in.
"Maintenance," she sighed. "Getting sloppier and sloppier. It's really high time Percy had a word with them."
She lifted the broken "Y" and fixed it back in place with a spell. For twenty minutes the young witch bustled around the room straightening files, laying out documents and getting everything ready for the day. She seemed still shaken from the murder she had discovered only two days ago, and quite a few folios and folders hit the floor as they fell from her nervous hands.
On the other hand, mused the Wizarding Atlas of the British Isles up on the shelf, Lucius Malfoy didn't exactly inspire self-confidence in his employees, and she might just be jittery at the prospect of her boss coming back into the office after his release. He hadn't been exactly friendly to her last time she had heard him speak to her in the fireplace of Malfoy Manor.
Finally the secretary left and Eleanor felt her animagus companion stir restlessly once again.
"Where's Sedgewick," she squeaked quietly.
"It's not even seven-thirty," rustled the book. "He'll be there."
"And the ward-spells?"
"All set. All the triggers are in place. We'll be fine. Now stop turning in circles and scratching me with your feet and quit dangling your tail over the rim of the shelf. Someone will see you!"
"I hate being in my animagus form," complained the mouse. 'The fur itches, my mouth feels funny, and I detest that tail. I get it trapped everywhere. Plus, I don't even like mice!"
The book sighed, with a sound of creaking leather.
"Look, be glad you have an animagus form like this as an auror. Imagine you'd turn into a hippogriff or a lion. Any pretense at stealth would be right out of the window! It would be useless for your job… – Sshh! I think I can hear someone coming."
And really, as the morning progressed the Ministry had come alive with sounds. Ministry employees had begun their work day, and the two witches had heard steps echoing along the hallway outside the office and voices of people wishing each other good morning and calling to each other. The steps they could hear now definitely sounded louder and soon stopped in the secretary's ante-room just outside the office.
"Good morning Miss Langley," said a man's voice.
"Sedgewick! I hope the old fool can pull it off," murmured Marigold and started to absent-mindedly nibble at the thick leather back of her companion. It was on occasion difficult to control the natural animal instincts of an animagus form.
"Come off it!" snapped the atlas.
"– but Mr. Malfoy isn't here yet," complained the secretary as she followed the lanky form of her muggle visitor into the office wringing her hands. "In fact I don't even know if he will be coming in today at all, what with all the accusations and the recent arrest."
"Oh, please," said the parapsychologist, waving away her protest and peering at her over his glasses. "We all know he's innocent. I'm sure he'll be here – to show everyone how little the latest events have affected him. In fact he made an appointment for me to study here and meet with him later so I can ask him questions about wizarding matters and about magic."
The young witch regarded him rather doubtingly, but seemed to resign herself.
"Well, if Mr. Malfoy said so, then I guess it's all right," she admitted with some hesitation. "But it seems so unlike him: giving a muggle access like this, and have someone like yourself sit in his room and read his books and touch his stuff."
"Look," said Sedgewick. "I already told the witch at reception and she said it was all right." For a moment a look of cunning came into his face. "You wouldn't like me to report to Mr. Malfoy that you made things difficult for me, would you?"
The secretary swallowed and nearly dropped a quill she was holding.
"Of – of c-course not!" she stammered hastily. "I – I'll bring you some tea, sir. Please make yourself at home."
With that she rushed from the room. Marigold performed a little tap-dance up on the shelf and watched as the professor waved at them, gave them an exaggerated wink and sat down behind Lucius Malfoy's heavy desk. He obviously enjoyed himself.
Eleanor slightly shuffled her position.
"Incipio incantates," she rustled, activating the prepared wards.
Sedgewick looked at her expectantly and then a little disappointed as he could not discern any observable magical effects.
"Are you sure this works?" asked the mouse. "I've never seen this before."
"It'll work all right," explained the atlas. "I devised the original wards for Gringott's and you know how exacting their standards are. Anyone who approaches Sedgewick with intent to harm him will now get trapped. I assure you. The effect will be quite spectacular. Relax, you'll enjoy it."
At that moment Miss Langley entered the room with a tray that held a silver tea-pot adorned with the Malfoy serpent crest, a cup, creamer and sugar bowl made from black egg-shell-thin porcelain and a silver tea sieve, all neatly arranged on a little lacquer tray.
Sedgewick rubbed his hands and looked at the elegant crockery with some admiration.
"Too kind, Miss Langley. I don't think I'll need anything else."
The secretary nodded.
"No problem," she assured him, still looking as if she was afraid he might report her to her boss. "Then I'll be gone for a few minutes, if you don't mind. Just a quick errand."
She left the room and as soon as she had closed the door behind her, the parapsychologist got up, a predatory gleam in his eyes, and approached the book-shelves.
"I've so wanted to have a look at a magical library," he told the mouse who had come out of hiding again and peered down at him. "So far Mr. Malfoy has thought that would be a bad idea, though. What do you think I should start with?"
"Try Finnegan Fernsworth: Principia Magica," whispered the atlas, giving a sideways wobble to indicate a fat, slightly tattered-looking volume to the right of her. "He's thorough, lucid and quite systematic – something that's not always the case with books on wizardry."
Avidly Sedgewick grabbed the heavy book from the shelf and retired back behind the desk. He poured himself a cup of tea and was soon completely engrossed in his reading matter, exclaiming in surprise now and then, and soon digging around in the desk drawers to locate a raven feather quill and some parchment to make notes.
Time passed slowly. Marigold found it harder and harder to keep still.
"Why hasn't the secretary come back yet?" she asked. "It's been over an hour now..."
Just then they heard steps outside the office again. The footfall seemed heavier than Miss Langley's, however. The auror stiffened and carefully hid in the shadows between the tall folios. Sedgewick seemed so captivated by his book he only looked up with a start when the door to the office suddenly flew open.
A wizard dressed in a billowing cloak made from silver-embroidered green crushed velvet walked into the room. Long white-blond hair framed his arrogant, pale face and streamed down his back. He paused briefly to close the office door behind him and then faced the professor with a sneer.
Sedgewick had risen half-way from his seat to greet his friend, but the wizard raised a black-gloved hand and waved him back into the chair with an imperious gesture.
"Please, Alfred, you might as well stay where you are," he acidly informed his muggle counterpart. "I see you've already helped yourself to my tea, my desk and my books. But then, that's what 'friends' are for, isn't it?"
"Lucius, you don't understand," said the parapsychologist. "We're trying…"
"Merlin!" hissed Marigold up on her shelf. "He's going to blow it. He's going to blab about the plan. Idiotic muggle…"
The wizard interrupted both of them with a snort.
"I understand well enough," he spat. "It's not sufficient that you are coming crawling in here at the behest of the Minister, no – now you are ready to take over completely, aren't you! Well, my friend, I'm going to stop this nonsense once and for all. I'll have that incompetent, muggle-loving idiot Weasley thrown out of office. This time I won't fail."
Sedgewick recoiled in fear at the hatred directed at him, his mouth agape in shocked and hurt surprise.
"B – but Lucius…" he stammered.
"Don't you dare Lucius me! You little piece of muggle scum, I'll…" and with that he pulled a wand from his robes and advanced on the professor.
Just then several things happened all at once: the door to the office flew open and Miss Langley poked her head in, gasping in shock at the scene she was witnessing. Lucius Malfoy leveled his wand and began to intone the killing spell and Eleanor's ward spell activated, grabbing the wizard by his ankles and sweeping him up towards the ceiling as he hollered in surprise. The wand clattered to the ground.
Marigold Brannock jumped from the shelves and retransformed as soon as she hit the ground. As she advanced on the man who had been caught in their trap, Eleanor also reverted to her human form, hopping down from the book case before her increasing size would get her stuck. Miss Langley watched them in incomprehension, her mouth hanging open. Sedgewick had slumped back in his chair, shaking his head with a pained look on his face.
"How could he do that?" he murmured aghast. "I was his friend. How could he hate me so?"
Marigold meanwhile stood underneath the suspended figure of Lucius Malfoy with her hands on her hips. She looked up at the red-faced spluttering man above her and then over to her mentor.
"Of all the people," she said to Eleanor. "Who would have thought it was him after all?"