Chapter VI: Spacedust

As the sun dipped beneath the horizon, Arthur forced a fake wand into Alfred's pocket, he knew it wouldn't do very much if they were caught, but perhaps Alfred could pass as a wizard for a few extra minutes. He also forced him to trade out his bomber jacket for something slightly more practical, which lead to Alfred bursting into a rant about the practicality of his grandpa's bomber jacket during WWII, which lead to a very confused, and then disgusted Arthur when Alfred began to drive into a history lesson.

They found themselves on the street to be met with a rare, silent and cloudless night. The rodes were illuminated by yellowed streetlamps lamps and a few puddles dotted along the sidewalk. Alfred followed behind Arthur as he wove expertly through the dwindling crowds and crossed busy intersections. For a long while they walked in comfortable silence, both absorbed by their own thoughts.

He stopped at a red telephone box on an empty street, much to Alfred's surprise. When he began to ask if Arthur needed to make a phone call, Arthur glanced around before he shoved him into the tight box, the door clicking behind them.

"Hey Arthur," Alfred laughed unsurely, glancing back out into the empty street, "what are we doing in a telephone box?"

Arthur blinked at the dial for a moment, eyebrows furrowed before looking up at Alfred, his face flushed. "I erm, haven't used this method in a while and well, I've forgotten how to work it you see."

Alfred grinned blindingly. God, that bloody grin it never failed to make Arthur blink, his heart pick up a bit faster. "You need me to call someone for you?"

"No!" Arthur said, his face turning nearly the same color as the outside of the box. The fact that he was pressed right up against Alfred didn't help much either. "Would you just type in the bloody numbers 62442?"

"Sure," Alfred replied, leaning over Arthur to reach the dial. "62442 you said?"

"Yes." He mumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. He listened as Alfred quietly whispered the numbers as the dial clicked in and out of place. He stepped back just as the last number whizzed back and a crisp female voice filled the box.

"Welcome to the ministry of magic. Please state your name and purpose."

"Arthur Kirkland and Alfred Jones" Arthur began, "erm, Auror business."

The voice paused for a moment then suddenly where coins should normally come out, came two buttons. Their names were printed cleanly and clearly with the words "Auror business" written underneath. Alfred marveled at the button, holding it as though it were made of china before tucking it safely into his pocket. Arthur decided against pinning his onto his shirt and instead shoved it carelessly into his pocket next to his wand and an old Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Bean.

The box gave a sharp jolt and Alfred stumbled forward into Arthur. He yelped, but when he peered behind him Alfred was already busy marveling at the moving phone box. It looked as if the ground were moving away from them as the box floated downwards, beneath the cobblestone street and gave way to a thick layer of dark stone. Alfred watched as if in a dream as the darkness gave way to a long and gaping marble hallway that was lined with hundreds of tall fire blazes, each filled with blazing bright green fires. On the other end lay many rather ordinary gated elevators, shut and closed, as though they were asleep.

But the most impressive part of the hallway was a stone statue of a wizard, that stood proudly in the center of the hallway, a set of red-bricked offices and darkened windows huddled behind him and on all sides of the walls, reaching higher than the ceiling of the fireplace rooms.

"You may have your wands checked at the visitor's table to your right." said the cold voice once more before the doors shuttered and slid open. "Have a lovely evening."

Arthur stepped out onto the cool black flooring, his footsteps echoing throughout the empty hallway almost eerily. Alfred stumbled out behind him, his usual bravado had been sucked away, as though by a vacuum cleaner, all he could do was marvel at the astounding sights that surrounded him. The very place seemed to teem with magic, he swore he could feel it wafting through the air, catching beneath his shoes and whispering in the air.

Actually, he thought, it felt like Arthur. That same captivating sense had been what caused him to stop the day before, at the odd man trying to break into an abandoned warehouse. Who knew it would lead him here.

"Do try not to get lost," Arthur called back. "I'm not sure you'd be able to find your way back."

"I think I'm dreaming, Art." came Alfred's dazed reply while he continued to gaze up at the ceiling, the fireplaces, statue, offices, everything he could see.

"I can assure you, you are not dreaming." Arthur said, picking up his pace slightly "Now hurry along. The less time we spend here the better." Despite Alfred's marveling, a cold, unsettling sensation had crawled itself up Arthur's back.

Alfred picked up his stride so he walked beside Arthur instead of trailing behind him. Arthur's shoulders were tight, and he kept glancing around as if expecting someone to fire a curse at them any moment.

He brought them to a grated elevator, which slid open when they approached. Arthur breathed a sigh of relief before shoving Alfred in before him. The golden grates sliding back into place as the elevator lurched backward and they began to descend deeper and deeper underground. Alfred chose not to think about just how much ground was above his head.

With each level they passed, the same crisp female voice announced each floor. Alfred continued to gawk and question Arthur about each one. He waved away most of the questions, the sudden nerve of what he was going to do began to settle uncomfortably in his stomach, setting his nerves on fire as if a muggle's match had been lighted against them. He should've been relieved that each stop they met only empty hallways, but it only added to his unease.

At last, they'd reached the final level and the department of mysteries was announced. Arthur took a deep breath and stepped out into the corridor, Alfred followed close behind him as subconsciously Arthur drew his wand from his pocket as they inched towards the door.

The corridor was unnaturally cold. The sort of cold that buried itself deeper than the skin and into Arthur's bones, sending a wave of goosebumps running up and down his arms. The bleak, dark walls lit only by blazing green torches narrowed and focused, and the sound of their footsteps was so loud it that it to sounded out of place.

With his hand still tight around his wand, he reached out and threw open the door.

He half expected a monster to come crawling out, or at the very least a spell to fire at them, but nothing came. They were only met with the silent sight of dozens of doors in a circular, white room. A rather shark contrast to the straight, black hallway with a single door.

Arthur turned to check that Alfred was still behind him, he was. Although he looked abnormally pale, as though he'd just seen a ghost or been doused in ice water.

"You all right there?" Arthur asked.

Alfred instantly split into a grin, and even in their short time together Arthur could see how forced it was. "Me? I'm fine, Art. Just uh, don't want anything to jump out and hit you."

Arthur didn't bother trying to correct the nickname, and instead just raised his eyebrows skeptically before tightening the grip on his wand and stepping into the room. Alfred followed behind him and he heard the soft click of the door closing before the room around them begin to spin.

The doors flew past them, moving fast enough too stir up Arthur's bang's and confuse his eyes. Alfred stumbled a bit next to him, and instinctively Alfred reached out to steady himself on Arthur, his hand felt oddly comforting against his shoulder.

Just as it started, the spinning stopped and they were meant with the same sight they'd walked into, the doors stared back at them innocently. Arthur let out a shaky sigh.

"Well," Alfred managed to say "that was mighty clever."

"Yes," Arthur agreed, although his tongue was heavy and his mouth was made of cotton. "It was." He walked towards one of the doors, choosing one at random and pulled it open. He was met with a room.

Well, he assumed it was a room, but really what was on the other side of the door was what looked to be infinite space, it looked like someone had taken a piece of the night sky and shoved it into a confined room, then threw in some planets and stars.

"What is it?" Alfred asked, looking past Arthur's shoulders. Arthur tensed and started to push Alfred back.

"It's not what we're looking for," he explained quickly, but had greatly doubted Alfred's physical strength, he pushed past Arthur and glanced into the doorway. Arthur watched his eyes light up with absolute wonder and pure, bonafide joy.

"Alfred wait, don't go in there-" Arthur began, but Alfred had already taken a step inside before he stumbled for a moment and fell completely into the room. "Alfred!" he gasped, hurrying quickly back towards the door, only to find him floating within the room. Alfred's hand was outstretched as he groped towards a star, but his hand never made contact with anything as he drifted past.

"Git," Arthur hissed, "Get back here! Neither you or I have any bloody idea what is in any of these rooms and here you go prancing straight into one like some sort of-"

He was cut off once again by Alfred grinning, larger than he'd perhaps ever seen as he pushed past a model of Mars. "Arthur this is incredible! The details on some of these planets are a bit off, but marvelous! Look- the storm in Jupiter is even moving!"

Arthur glanced behind himself, there was that familiar heavy weight clinging to his back as though he were being watched and studied, like the tea leaves at the bottom of a cup. His eyes drifted back to Alfred, who looked sickeningly smaller as he passed by Jupiter and headed towards Saturn.

"Alfred!" he cried louder this time. "If you do not come back here I won't hesitate to hex you until you rue the day you were born!" he shouted. But Alfred never once looked back towards him, and now he looked much smaller than anyone should've looked in a single room. His stomach knotted uncomfortably. "Alfred?"

When he still didn't so much as glance his way, Arthur's hands began to feel hot, his wand like a weight in his hand, and still, Alfred's form was growing smaller and smaller- as if any moment he'd disappear as just another bit of space dust. Although now Arthur could make out Alfred beginning to flail frantically and his stomach grew tighter.

He hardly hesitated, he'd never tried summoning a person before but could've sworn he'd seen a professor do it once when a student had inflated herself like a balloon and had drifted past the north tower. "Accio, Alfred!" he yelled, thrusting his wand as a stream of dulled light shot out, flying through the endless room before it latched itself around Alfred's leg and drew him back like a jumper cable. Alfred came crashing back onto Arthur, and together they fell back onto the cold floor, just as the door slammed shut and the doors spun again.

Both of their breaths were deep and heavy as Alfred pushed himself off of Arthur. Arthur could detect that familiar trace of guilt in Alfred's eyes, which he was refusing to meet. For a moment the only thing they could do was sit on the marble floor, panting and refusing to look at each other.

Alfred was the first to break the silence after the room had stopped spinning, he was fiddling with the end of his coat. "Arthur, I'm so sorry. I was just, so amazed by everything I saw in there, you know?" he confessed. "It was like a childhood dream coming true- I used to want to be an astronaut, actually, and it was like I was really there."

Arthur shifted so he wasn't leaning back on his hands. "I understand." he said, "But in the name of Merlin, when I tell you to stop you listen!" Arthur thought back to Alfred disappearing and his stomach lurched uncomfortably again "I just," he paused to glance at Alfred, who stared at the floor and let out a quivering breath. "I thought I was about to lose you out there," he whispered, more to himself than to Alfred.

At last Alfred looked up, and managed a half smile. "You were worried about me?"

Arthur's face lit up. "That's not what I said you twit!"

Alfred laughed and started to stand up and Arthur followed. "Okay, okay. But seriously, thanks for getting me back, whatever that crazy spell was. I was just starting to worry a bit out there."

Arthur offered up a small smile of his own. "Good, because now you can help me check the rest of these doors."

Arthur's head throbbed from watching the room spin around so many times. He would never be able to look at a door the same way again. When he opened the door to the brain room for the fifth time he gave a hopeless groan as he slammed the door shut and the room spun again.

"No luck?" Alfred asked from behind. He'd seated himself in the middle of the room and was picking at something he'd found in the coat pocket. Alfred had offered to help time and time again, but Arthur had grown tired of having to march over and tell him if it was the right room or not.

"None," he replied, watching as the doors came to a stop. He pulled open the new door, he kept betting with himself which room it was going to be this time, but when the door opened he paused.

It was a new room, one that seemed exceedingly ordinary compared to all the others, no dazzling lights or swimming brains, only a line of offices and shelves that looked about ready to burst with books and files. Every other aisle there was a door, which he assumed lead to more offices.

"Find something?" Alfred called, standing up to join Arthur at the door, he looked past his shoulders and into the seemingly ordinary office room. "Huh. Haven't seen that one yet, although I gotta say I was expecting something a little grander."

Arthur shook his head and stepped in. "No, this is what we want. This feels right." Alfred stepped in after him, and with a bit of hesitation, shut the door behind him. He hadn't forgotten what had happened the last time he'd been in one of these rooms.

Arthur started down the rows, counting off numbers in his head. He knew they were getting warmer, could feel it pulsing in the long room and through himself as his feet padded against the wooden floors.

"Hey, Arthur," Alfred called from behind him. "come look at this." He turned and walked over to Alfred, who was gingerly holding a file with the word Kontrabanda printed in vivid wizard ink on the cover. A smile flickered at the edge of Arthur's mouth as he took it from Alfred. It felt excruciatingly heavy and fragile in his hands.

"My god, I think we found it," he whispered, a warm and satisfied feeling bobbing in his chest.

Alfred grinned. "You mean I found."

Arthur looked up at Alfred, the smile melting to something softer, something he didn't want to think about, but something that felt so right. "Shut up, Alfred."

And then Alfred's grin was softening as well, too something far more tender and dangerous, and gosh, had his eyes always been that blue? Had he always been that much taller than Arthur? And wow, was he actually getting bloody closer?

Arthur's eyes were just starting to flutter closed, he was just starting to lean in and fall into the spell when the door on the opposite side of the room burst open.

Arthur pulled himself away from Alfred so fast he had a moment of whiplash, before spinning around to find with utter horror his boss walking in with a female Auror he didn't recognize.

Without a second thought, he shoved Alfred underneath the nearest desk and pushed in the chair so that Alfred was squished between the back of the desk and the chair. Alfred grunted and Arthur kicked him lightly and he fell silent, just in time for his boss to finally look up and see Arthur standing there, a case file clutched in his hands and an unmistakable deer-caught-in-the-headlights look plastered to his face.

For a moment they could only blink at each other before a smirk worked its way across his boss' countenance. Even from here Arthur could see that malicious fire in his boss' eyes. "Mr. Kirkland, give up already did you?"

Arthur's grip tightened on the folder, his back stood a little taller. "No, sir."

His boss approached and the other Auror followed on his heels. He stopped when he was right in front of Arthur. He took a step back, but never once removed eye contact. "Then why are you here, Kirkland?"

"I was researching the case." he explained, "And I believe I have found some evidence that would be of great value to the entire ministry, sir."

His boss sneered, glancing down at the file in his hands. "You have no permission to be here. None at all."

"Actually, it's all part of the job." Arthur countered icily. "Aurors are allowed anywhere without permission unless stated otherwise, and as far as I know you never told me I couldn't come back to the ministry." he paused, "Sir."

Gawain's eyes narrowed dangerously, they reminded Arthur of amber flames and a child clawed down in his spine, his toes curling. "It also says that they are not allowed to be snooping in their higher-up's private office."

Arthur dared a glance towards the desk, sweeping swiftly over Alfred who had managed to make his hiding spot at least a little better by moving some books to. But the desk did have Gawain's name on it.

His gaze shifted back to his boss. "Then sir, I apologize. But I have the right to know as to why you have a case file on a group of individuals you have deemed as "not worth your blasted time" sitting right on your desk."

Gawain had started to shake, his hand now wrapped stiffly around his wand before in a very quick move he disarmed Arthur of his own wand and pointed his directly underneath Arthur's chin. The other Auror gasped, and Arthur cursed when he heard Alfred's own sharp intake of breath. Thankfully, Gawain's full attention seemed to be given to Arthur for the moment, a rarity in itself.

"Kirkland I could have you begging for mercy in a matter of minutes." he hissed jabbing the wand harder at Arthur's throat and it throbbed where the point pushed. "And out of pure mercy I will not be wiping your memory tonight, or perhaps, not. As you are in violation of snooping and I currently have every right to fire you where you stand."

Arthur smirked and didn't take a step back when Gawain's hand began to shake even harder around the wand in hardly controlled fury. "Please do, I've been busy stressing about when to curse you myself, but I suppose I could leave that up to karma now."

Gawain sneered. "You don't deserve to polish the grime off my wand, Kirkland." The wand pressed even harder, Arthur barely withholding a gasp. "You're done."

Then in a flourish, Arthur's wand was returned to his hand, the case file fell out of his hands and dropped to the floor, spilling papers everywhere and photos everywhere. With another wave of his wand, Gawain sent him through that familiar taffy-like feeling as he fell, the colors twisting and stretching, it felt as though he were being sucked through a vacuum before he was stumbling against the cold pavement and he fell.

He groaned, just as a book hit him hard in the head and fell into his lap, it was followed by a fluttering of papers and trunk smacking into the ground his Auror tools scattering everywhere. His prized tea collection followed with it, leaves and bags spilling everywhere and over the stone sidewalk. There was a crash, and Arthur turned just in time to make out his tea set slamming into the ground, the china shattering into a million shards.

A cold wind brushed through his untamed hair, and with shaky legs he pushed himself to his feet, head reeling. His throat throbbed painfully from where Gawain had jabbed his wand at it, and now so did his bum after falling ungracefully onto it.

He was sitting in a pile of his own things, everything that had occupied his office lay in a mess at his feet. Smashed ink bottles, bent quills, a broken sneakoscope, spell books, potions ingredients, his Fanged Geranium rolled in it's pot, snapping at the air. He let out a long, tired sigh.

But something was missing.

It felt like a stab to his pounding heart, it stung so much he gasped and clutched at his chest. He was going to be sick, his head throbbed.

Alfred.