The Houses Competition
House: Gryffindor
Class/Subject: Care of Magical Creatures
Prompts: (character) Percy Weasley, and (weather) dust storm
Drabble/Standard: Drabble
Word Count: 919 words
Warning for a crossover with Fantastic Beasts, time travel, and a slight bit out of character to be on the safe side. I would like to thank everyone who beta read this story for me. It meant a lot to me so thank you very much.
Percy Weasley had never been so happy for a dust storm in all his life. As the bubble charm slipped from his lips, he couldn't help but think over the events of the past few days. These events had led to him hiding out in a desert, it had once been the middle of Oklahoma in the United States of America.
The man he was hiding from was an ex-MACUSA agent with a grudge against both the Ministry of Magic and MACUSA. The man seemed to believe that he'd been wrongfully accused of something by parties in both agencies.
"Come on," a loud voice from the entrance shouted, "I know you're still in here, Mr. Ministry of Magic employee. No one is stupid enough to go out in one of these storms. It'll strip the skin right off of your bones."
Percy chuckled. He'd rather die out in the storm—if his protective bubble charm didn't work—than die at the hands of some disgruntled stranger.
If he'd been told a few days ago that he'd be sent into the past and chased for something he didn't even know about, Percy would have laughed. He'd have called whoever said that insane and then Flooed them to St. Mungos. Clearly, they'd been hit by a malfunctioning spell.
"I wouldn't touch that if I were you," the words of warning, that he hadn't heeded, rang through his ears, along with the raging sound of windblown dust.
He'd been visiting the Department of Mysteries under Minister of Magic Shacklebolt's suggestion to keep an eye on the progress of the latest Time-Turner technology. The Unspeakables were working on a Time-Turner that didn't need to be turned by the user. All someone had to do, supposedly, was think about where—and more importantly, when—they wanted to go.
"How goes the work?" he asked Seamus, one of the newest agents. "The Minister would like to know about the progress of the new turner."
Seamus Finnigan, the sandy-haired pyrotechnic of Gryffindor tower, rubbed the back of his neck.
"Well, we are working around the clock and we think that we almost have a working prototype," he said and looked towards the dark-cloaked man who Percy recognized as the group leader. "I just joined the team, but our fearless Charles Star here would know more than I would."
The man launched into an explanation of what he was looking at and how it was made. But some force was taunting Percy and practically begging him to reach out and touch the new Turner. The shiny metal object glinted in such a way that Percy couldn't help himself; he found his hand reaching forward of its own accord.
"I wouldn't touch that if I were you," Charles said, moving to block Percy.
It was too late. Percy's hand had already landed on the object (not a second before Charles chose to intervene). Before he was whooshed out of sight, Percy could have sworn that he saw the glint of a smile on Charles Star's face. It was as though making Percy disappear was a goal achieved.
The next thing he knew was a blinding light shining in his eyes and an excessive heat that he couldn't rightly explain. Percy felt afraid. He knew that a lot of the Department of Mysteries' experiments often led to someone's death. Opening his eyes, he half expected to find his younger brother, Fred, grinning jovially at him.
What he found was the exact opposite. He found a group of people in the grab of the 1930s. One person, in particular, caught his eye: a female with dark-colored hair and eyes. She was dressed in a navy work blouse and a matching pencil skirt, with a black coat, pulled close to her pale chin. Somehow she looked familiar. Percy realized, that unlike the other people, she'd seen him appear out of thin air.
"Did you see which way he went, sir?" one of the male Aurors asked, flashing a picture of a man that Percy didn't recognize.
Of course, he wouldn't recognize the man. He didn't come from this decade.
Percy shook his head. "Who is he?"
"Escaped prisoner."
It was the only answer he got before the Aurors quickly departed in search of their quarry. All except for her. The woman.
He'd been shocked when he'd learned that the 'woman' was Porpentina Goldstein, future Tina Scamander. She had told him that the man they were all looking for was an ex-Auror for MACUSA, and, that he'd been accused of helping Grindlewald escape. He'd also been just as surprised when the man had attacked him and chased him halfway through Oklahoma before the dust storm had crept up.
The wind whistled, and Percy could feel particles of the dust breaking through his protective bubble charm. He knew he was pretty much a goner if he stayed out here much longer, but the only thing he could see for miles was sand and more dust.
A grim smile crossed his face as the thought of dying out here, in the middle of Oklahoma in the 1930s. Suddenly, he felt the tug on his shoulder. He was being pulled somewhere. The piercing of the dust finally overwhelmed him, and he passed out.
When he came back around a few minutes later, he found himself in someone's home—the home of the very person he was trying to escape.
"What do you want with me?" he asked, his voice full of fear. "I'm Alexander Hunt and I need your help."
I hope you all enjoyed Escape the Past as much as I enjoyed writing it.