A/N: Once again we had the whole wonderful team at work on this one. Thank you to my marvelous betas, Christina, Seakays, and sunshyndaisies, who are always so very generous with their time and talent.

Dear Readers: Be sure to check out the artwork of my lovely friend and SoCal neighbor sveltskye on the SugarQuill,
who somehow managed to pluck the scar scene' from Chapter Five of this story directly from my mind and bring it to wonderful, realistic life first on paper, then on-screen at SQ. Thank you, sveltskye, first for flattering me by choosing my scene to draw, and once more for completing the drawing so beautifully that I'm truly in awe of your talent.

Finally, thank you to those very few readers who have reviewed here on (4,000 hits and 23 reviews???). What with the new format being such a pain to get posted and so little interest from readers in responding, I may soon be letting this story fall by the wayside here. But don't worry, if someone is truly interested in seeing through with me, I'll be glad to give you some alternate addresses for further chapter postings and fair warning that it's my final posting should I decide to do so.


NZ


Chapter 9

Perverse Pokes and Purple Halos


Hermione waited anxiously at her table in the commons after breakfast. She had only picked at her food, feeling apprehensive about what the day would bring. Christopher Null was already a few minutes late in meeting her at the appointed time, but from what she already knew of him, this was nothing unusual. Still, this was to be her first big day learning what her internship responsibilities would be and working with the Yeti; although she was nervous, she was also eager to get started.

Miss Granger will be wanting for more pumpkin juice? Tulip asked at her side, her bright blue eyes shining as she held out the pitcher in her hand.

No, thank you, Tulip, Hermione answered. I'm fine.

Hermione watched Tulip walk toward three men and a woman in white lab robes at another table. She hadn't been introduced to any of them and was feeling just a little too unsure of herself to walk over and step into their conversation. Hermione's eyes focused on the woman. If only I'd pushed harder to meet her last night...



Tod had taken Hermione to her quarters yesterday afternoon, which were set up in one of the three small cabins toward the back of the camp. He'd shown her where everything was located: extra pillows and blankets, soap and towels. He set her luggage by the rustic bureau so that she could unpack with ease, and gave her the spells to use should the pipes get temperamental and decide to belch only rust instead of hot water. On his way out, Tod remembered to give Hermione the pre-set spell to lock all her windows and doors for complete security, then had her choose her own password to complete it. Of course, he looked at her oddly when she giggled over her choice (but then, she knew Ron would kill her if he knew she was using ).

After unpacking, cleaning up, and resting a bit, Hermione had gone to dinner, sitting with Dr. Null and discussing his prior work with dragon genetics, the work that had eventually earned him the Crystobel Prize. She was fascinated by the way he so casually discussed with her his theories of worldwide dragon genetic interplay and its effects on the entire genus. In fact, it was these exact theories which had distinguished him as one of the great scientific minds of their time. Dragons are fascinating, Null had said, but eventually I found them to be very limiting. Creatures of intelligence--now there's a worthy subject--that's where my interests lie now! (To emphasize his point, Dr. Null had stabbed his butter knife into the air, which had been covered in gravy--Hermione had to quickly dodge a flying glob and try to note where it had slopped onto the floor behind her to avoid it later. Dr. Null, of course, was entirely unaware and continued his meal...)

When no one else happened into the commons during the entire time she and Dr. Null were eating their delicious dinners, Hermione began to feel it a bit odd. But Tulip certainly didn't act as if it was strange to be serving just the two of them; perhaps no one had a regular eating schedule here.

After they'd finished, Hermione asked about owling her parents and Dr. Null arranged for Tod to send a post owl about an hour later. Dr. Null finally asked Hermione if she was settling in all right, set up their meeting time for the morning, and then excused himself to return to the lab for what he claimed would be just mopping up a few details.

Feeling well taken care of, but just a little off-kilter on her first night alone, Hermione realized that she wished she could talk to Harry and Ron somehow. They already seemed so far away, and though she knew that writing to her parents would relieve some of her at odds' feelings, there were things about her world that her parents just couldn't understand. If she'd had the chance to owl her friends, too, there would be so much to tell them about Thaddeus Sharpe and Christopher Null, about the camp and the few people she'd met, and about how anxious she was to get started.

Wandering back to her door in the near-dark and muttering the word under her breath (not to mention still smiling over it), Hermione heard a noise nearby; she quickly turned to see a woman leaving the cabin next to hers. Just after stepping through the doorway, the woman snapped her gaze toward Hermione and stared, but without so much as a nod of the head to acknowledge her presence. The woman then stepped down and hurried quickly away toward the commons.

Now this same woman sat at the table with others, participating little in their conversation but appearing to be accepted as part of their group nonetheless. Trying to casually look their direction, Hermione could see a bit of the woman from the side. Her straight, stringy, mousy brown hair was pulled back on one side with a small gold clip and her narrow, oblong black glasses stood out in stark contrast to her pale complexion.

As if she could feel Hermione's eyes on her, the woman started to turn her direction, then just as quickly stopped and jerked her head the other way. Hermione wondered if she had done that on purpose or if her own mind was simply playing tricks on her; she was feeling a bit awkward still sitting alone. Hermione decided then and there to bring a book along from now on when she came to the commons, just in case. Where was Dr. Null?

The group at the table finished their meals and stood to leave. As they all headed for the door, Hermione casually adjusted her body so that she faced away from their path. At that moment she wished she was more comfortable with people she didn't know; had she had the political acumen of someone like Thaddeus Sharpe, she would have easily been able to walk up and say hello. On the other hand, the others made no move to welcome her either; but then, Hermione realized she had little experience in an adult work situation--maybe that was just the way things were.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the group exiting. She noted that one of the men, the one who had seemed to do most of the talking at the table in a voice so deep that she couldn't discern anything he'd said, put his hand on the woman's back to help usher her out the door. But the interesting part was that he had left his hand there just a bit too long and too insistently for it to have been simply a casual gesture. Hermione arched her eyebrows at no one and returned her gaze to her lonely table.

As luck would have it, Dr. Null arrived only a few minutes after the group had left. He was dressed in different clothes, but appeared to be in much the same disarray as he had been the day before.

Good morning, Miss Granger, he said. Sorry I'm late--somehow just lost track of the time...Good morning, sir, Hermione answered, not surprised by the nature of his excuse. She noticed that Tulip was wiping her hands on a towel next to the door by the kitchen on her way out to greet Dr. Null.

Ready for your first day? Null asked.

Hermione looked a bit perplexed. Oh, yes, but...aren't you going to eat? Null asked, as if Hermione's question had been a very odd one. Oh--I should have mentioned...I usually rise early and eat something small then. Too much sleep time means too much time wasted not working on our project--not that you're obligated to keep such ridiculous hours while you're here.You're wanting something else to be eating now, doctor sir? Tulip asked.

No, thank you, Tulip. But I'd be grateful for one very large cup of strong coffee to take back to the lab. Anything to take along, Miss Granger? And, by the way, would it be too awkward for me to call you I think I've had my fill of breakfast, she said. And Hermione would be just fine. In fact, it will seem less like you're one of my professors then--although, I suppose that in a way, you are.But this is a job--even if it is an internship--and you may consider me a co-worker then, Hermione, he said, reaching out to grab the large, steaming mug from Tulip, who had re-appeared with it so fast that Hermione wondered if she'd Apparated to the kitchen and back.

Let's head for the lab, Dr. Null said.

Hermione felt a little thrill of excitement run through her. This was the moment she'd been waiting for.

Have you had a chance to read much about the Yeti? Dr. Null asked as they were walking across the quad.

Hermione tried to walk rather close to Dr. Null to keep up with his conversation, but it was difficult when a small wave of coffee sloshed over the edge of his cup and splashed at her toes with every step.

There hasn't been a lot published, I know, he continued. The Yeti are usually very reclusive beings, wanting to be left in peace to live their lives, even by those of us who understand their circumstances better than non-magical peoples. Hermione started, trying to think of something that didn't sound like a lame excuse, I know I had almost a week to prepare, but to be honest, I didn't have much time to read. She had carefully avoided reading for hours while at the Burrow, in part to spend as much time as possible with Ron to appease him, as if that helped at all, she thought, frowning a bit. It hadn't been much of an imposition because she was having a good time there-- only now she felt rather sheepish at having to answer Dr. Null's question this way.

No matter, he said. I have some excellent books on the subject, very difficult to locate, that I would be glad to loan you while you're here. I'll give you Trapper's book to start-- you've heard of Berguson Trapper?Wasn't he a wizard explorer of some sort? Hermione asked.

You could say that, Null replied. Mountaineer, more like it, but he climbed pretty much anything that was in his way. Trapper was mapping some mountains near Mt. Everest in 1951--the Gauri Sankar range on the South Tibetan Rim. A Muggle explorer by the name of Eric Shipton came across his camp and decided to camp nearby since the freezing cold of the mountains in November didn't seem so intense where Trapper and his two Sherpa guides had their tents. Of course, Shipton had no idea the cold was held at bay by magic, but then apparently Trapper's use of magic had attracted some attention he wasn't expecting. The next day the two groups of explorers set off in opposite directions and soon Trapper's group had found some enormous tracks.Ahh, Yeti tracks? Hermione asked.

Yeti tracks, Null confirmed. Now we wizards had already known for hundreds of years of the existence of the Yeti, but this led to the first known official' report by a Muggle. Problem is, the whole thing was a foul-up. Trapper's group followed the tracks to a cave, then the Sherpa people, who've dealt with the Yeti and their magic for thousands of years, coaxed the Yeti out of its cave with some warm meat. Trapper stood close to the Yeti to record notes on its location and its apparent health, one of his obligations since the Ministry Science Foundation supported his expeditions.The Ministry was funding Yeti studies even way back then? Hermione asked.

They funded the scientific expeditions--indeed they did--probably through one of Sharpe's ancestors, too, Null said, laughing.

Hermione smiled, but wasn't certain if that was meant to be a joke or not.

Null, oblivious, continued. Shipton's group came walking up behind them, having run into an impassable crevasse in the direction they'd gone. The Yeti, of course, disappeared instantly as they do, and though Shipton stood in shock at the momentary sight of one, Trapper was uncertain what to do with Shipton. The Sherpa were all magical people anyway so they were no problem. Shipton's Muggle partner, Ward, was bringing up the rear and didn't get there in time to see the Yeti. But while Trapper knew he should just Obliviate Shipton because the Yeti were magical beings, he was afraid to interfere with Muggle discovery either. So he didn't use a full Memory Charm, he used the Confundus Charm and hoped that would be the end of it.And it wasn't, I trust? No. Trapper didn't know the Muggles had taken footprint photos on their way up, and there you are. Shipton developed the pictures and told his story once he was down the mountain, even sent the photos to a museum to be displayed. But then the man insisted the enormous footprints were from either a monkey or a bear, which looked quite impossible from the snapshots. The Confundus Charm worked well, as many people were now unconvinced by his story, yet the photographs were, unfortunately, proof. But in any case, we named our camp Trapperton in honor of all of his work with the Yeti.That's remarkable! I'd love to read his book--and the others, Hermione said as the two of them approached the closest door of the gray stucco building. Thank you for offering to loan them to me. I'm sure I'll have more time to read now.Probably so, though I'm not completely certain of that, Null said. For now, here we are. Miss Research Assistant-- our lab. Dr. Null held the door open, allowing Hermione to step inside.

She stared in awe at the huge room around her, trying to convince herself that she was still standing inside a building. For all Hermione could tell, she was out on the mountainside, standing in the forest and looking toward a natural cave in the rocks; she also thought that there must have been some use of wizard space to make the area seem so vast. A movement in the farthest extremities of the room caught her attention, but the zoolowizard next to her didn't seem to notice anything.

This is one of the socialization labs, Dr. Null explained. There's another one nearly identical to it at the other end of the building. Although we of course observe the Yeti in their natural habitats--well, their new' habitats--outside the compound fences, a major goal of our project is to find the cause of their recent behavioral changes. This room forces them closer together so that they must deal with one another rather than avoid each other by simply moving farther out into the habitat. We've done this partly to evaluate what shrinking habitats are doing to their social structure and partly because we have some means of control over them here, should things get out of hand between any of them.Out of hand? Hermione questioned.

Except for mates, we never leave two Yeti together in the same room unless they're being closely watched-- Dr. Null said, --and always with some of Voyde's men on hand. The males, especially, can be very difficult to handle if they're agitated--Will I be meeting this Hermione asked, trying to sound off-handed about it. She didn't want to sound impatient, but the fact was, she was tired of hearing Voyde's name without knowing who he was.

At that moment, a tall bush much closer to them shivered and a large, fluffy mound of taffy-colored fur appeared over the top.

Well, well, the zoolowizard said without acknowledging the fur's' presence. But his voice became hushed, as if whatever was nearby could understand what he was saying. Starr has found us already. Don't look to your left now-- I assume you saw her? Just speak straight to me to answer. We'll pretend to continue our conversation.Yes, I saw... something, Hermione said, her heart in her throat, her eyes focused on Dr. Null's face. She wasn't sure whether his hushed tone meant this was good thing or a bad one.

he replied, casually taking a sip of his coffee. She's the only one in this chamber at the moment, I believe. Starr is a middle-aged female, about one hundred and thirty years old -- inquisitive and easy to teach, but quite shy until she's familiar with someone. She knows me well enough already and would ordinarily stroll right out unless one of the males had been threatening her. But it's not me she's worried about right now-- it's you. She hasn't seen many human females as it is and probably never one your age, so we're just going to give her a chance to get a good, long look.

Hermione fought the urge to turn in the direction of the eyes she could now feel boring straight into her. For some reason, gooseflesh ran along her neck and she couldn't think of anything intelligent to say to Dr. Null.

We've found this is the best approach, even with the males, though you won't be meeting them very soon, at least until you've had alot more experience, Dr. Null said. To be honest, I'm not certain what they'll think of a female your age. They're probably the closest beings, species-wise, to Homo sapiens that still exist. Some scientists have even considered the possibility that the Yeti are the missing link' between apes and humans, but due to their strong magical abilities, it's more likely they're somewhere on the road between apes and wizardkind. I'd like to be able to fully use your assistance with them, so I'm really hoping the younger males don't feel the need to defend you like one of their harem once you've met.

A strange, helplessly horrified expression must have crossed her face at that point because Dr. Null rolled his eyes at himself and explained further. I'm sorry -- I'm not used to being gentle about explaining instinctive behavior -- too much time around zoolowizards and other such hardened scientists, I suppose. While you're working with the Yeti, you may have to accept the fact that humans and wizards alike were once animalistic themselves, and though thousands of years of socialization have managed to subdue them somewhat, the baser instincts still exist in us. The Yeti can sense that.

Dr. Null's gaze, having been more or less focused on her as he spoke, now moved high over Hermione's left shoulder and he spoke very softly and gently. Hello, Starr... Friend...Friend.

Hermione could feel something brushing her back and warm breath over her shoulder, but she sensed she still needed to hold still so as not to frighten Starr. Suddenly she felt movement in her hair, as if fingers were rubbing the strands between them and tangling in it to test its texture. The gooseflesh returned in earnest when she felt pressure on her arm. Without moving her head she glanced down from the corner of her eye to see a very large, thick, padded finger attached to a very large ape-like hand running its way down her shirtsleeve.

Friend, Starr, Dr. Null repeated. Friend turn. He spoke in clear, firm, but gentle tones to the being behind Hermione. Okay, she's prepared for you to turn around and face her -- I believe. She's never been aggressive at all, so I don't expect any problems, but try not to make any sudden movements, especially to raise your hands above shoulder level for any reason.

Feeling her heart pounding, Hermione feared that her reaction to a Yeti this close might cause her to jump or gasp. She was determined to remain calm and steady and slowly began to move on the balls of her feet. As she turned, the sight that came into view in front of her was at once terrifying and wonderful.

Directly in front of her stood what could only be described as a magnificent creature. Starr was very tall, though quite average for a Yeti, and Hermione's straight-ahead gaze hit the creature just above her navel (or where a navel would be if it wasn't covered with fur). In fact, Starr's height must have been very close to Hagrid's, if Hermione's estimates were correct. Aside from most of her face and the palms of her hands (probably the soles of her feet, too, Hermione surmised) the Yeti was covered in long, lush fur of the most lovely shade of creamy beige. The areas uncovered by fur revealed an underlying skin tone of a warm chocolate brown. Hermione's gaze moved to Starr's face, which displayed her most amazing feature: two large, beautiful, and definitely feminine eyes in the deepest shade of purple.

Hermione swallowed a gasp as Starr reached toward her arm and lifted her wrist between her gigantic thumb and forefinger. Twisting Hermione's arm gently, the Yeti inspected everything about her hand, which looked positively tiny in comparison to Starr's.

A door closed soundly at the back of the room. Starr's attention and her body swung in that direction immediately, yanking Hermione's arm in her movement. Although it wasn't enough to hurt her much, it did make Hermione painfully aware of just how strong Starr was and how easily a Yeti could hurt human or wizard alike if they so desired.

Although Hermione could see no one in the direction of the sound, Starr must have either had a sixth sense for it or a better vantage point, for when the creature glanced back into Hermione's eyes for a split second, Hermione was certain she could read panic there. The Yeti then released Hermione's arm and quickly crouched into a ball, wrapping her long, strong arms around her knees; then she promptly disappeared.

Very vaguely, Hermione could see a faint purple circular glow like a halo, first moving low along the ground for a few feet and then disappearing at a higher level as it moved into the taller brush.

Was that her? Hermione asked in amazement.

Dr. Null stood and stared at the point where the halo disappeared, his mind obviously processing a number of thoughts at once. he whispered quietly, then seemed to come to his senses. I'm sorry--did you say something?

Hermione blinked, wondering if she was going to have wave her hands and whistle before ever getting a response from Null the first time she asked something. Was that her? That circle? Or did she just disappear?The Yeti have had the ability to silently disappear for thousands of years, Null explained. In fact, that's why most Muggles don't believe in their existence at all. Chances are there are humans who've had Yeti standing right next to them while they insisted the creatures didn't exist. But then, Muggles are ridiculously prone to deny the existence of anything they can't see.But--but the circle--that purple circle that moved away? Hermione repeated.

That was her--but the circle is a spell we've cast to be able to track the Yeti even when they're invisible. The Yeti aren't very fond of them around their necks and have tried to dilute the spell somewhat, which is why the circle was so faded. But they haven't been able to do away with them altogether and have become accustomed to them enough that it doesn't change their behaviors, so we leave them because they're necessary for us.Was she startled by the sound or--? She looked a bit panicked, Hermione said, sounding concerned.

As I've said, Starr is shy anyway--it's just her nature--and she probably wasn't sure who entered the building. She tends to disappear until she's sure it's someone she feels comfortable with. Dr. Null drank what seemed to be the last bit of his coffee. Let's go on into the offices and I'll show you to your, er, work station. He led off and Hermione followed.

As they approached the wall, Hermione could see they seemed to be heading for an area where there was a large red flower, different from any of the surrounding foliage. Dr. Null approached the wall and did a quiet at the flower, turning to tell her, These are our exit markers for the soc labs. If you need to get out, look for one of these.

Stepping through the door that opened, Hermione found herself in a much smaller, darkened one-story room. It contained three or four desks and numerous filing cabinets, aside from some other random tables and counters, plus there were some instruments and contraptions that looked as though they'd been shoved in the corner and left for some time. The wall holding the door she'd just passed through was indeed made of one-way glass, as was the wall opposite which seemed to have a lab like the one where she'd just been on the other side. A spiral staircase in the corner must have led to another room upstairs.

Scanning the collection of desks, she spied one of the largest ones that was closest to the glass-walled lab where Starr had been. Judging from the large stack of papers, files, open books, writing utensils, ink jars (one spilled), and used coffee and tea cups that sat on its surface, this was the desk of Dr. Null.

Ah, here we are, Dr. Null said, moving to stand next to the desk Hermione had picked as his. This is my area, and that will be yours.

Hermione hadn't even noticed another desk behind her because she'd thought it was only a very large stack of old volumes and papers. She must have stared at it rather incredulously because the zoolowizard seemed to feel the need to say something more.

I'm afraid I haven't had a chance to clean it up much--and it's been a while since I had an intern to help out, so it became a bit--full--when I needed more space. Dr. Null at least seemed to have the decency to feel badly about it--and seemed to remember having buried it himself, Hermione thought. If the others weren't already taken, I would be glad to let you have one of those instead.

It was rather dim in the office room, especially compared to the natural light that was pouring in from the glass ceilings of the lab rooms on either end, but Hermione couldn't see anyone else working at any of the other desks. There was one other desk that was nearly as buried in research materials as Null's.

Well--where is everyone? Hermione asked, realizing it sounded just a bit blunt after it came out of her mouth.

Some are out in the natural habitats, many work the night shift when the Yeti are often more active, instead of the day, Dr. Null explained. But not everyone's gone. Here--come on over.

Hermione followed Dr. Null, though she wasn't sure where he was leading. He walked to the other desk with the great amounts of paperwork stacked on it, but there was an oil lamp burning there.

Watching carefully, Hermione realized that there really had been someone there all along, and that she'd been sitting in one position without moving the whole time they were in the room. Or else, surely, I would have noticed she was here...Hermione thought. The woman from the breakfast table, from the cabin next to hers, cautiously leaned back from the stack of paperwork where she'd been hidden and slowly began to stand. She was glancing around nervously as if she had some reason to be wary, even though she seemed to try and manage a tiny smile when Dr. Null approached.

Null repeated. This is Hermione Granger, my new research assistant.

Hermione held out her hand to the woman, who seemed to be very timid and wouldn't meet her eyes.

Hermione, this is Dr. Pamela Voyde.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Ron stood with his father outside of the battered telephone box. He tried to ignore the eerie familiarity of it, even though his last visit to this place had been several months ago and in the dark.

Although his father usually Apparated to work and back home again, Arthur had insisted that the two of them use a Portkey to leave them just outside the telephone box for some reason. He'd arranged for the Portkey to be set to this position from the Burrow's fireplace by contacting the Ministry office. (Ministry officials were often allowed to keep one Portkey at home, pre-set with the home location as a from' address and programmable from the Ministry Portkey office once clearance was obtained for any to' address. This enabled employees to be able to travel on short notice, sometimes even to places that lacked a Floo Network connection.)

Why didn't we just Floo into the Ministry? Ron asked, jostling the small box of failed motorbike parts that he'd brought along.

his father started, I expect all's been taken care of, but ...If we get past the first entry, we'll know everything's fine. Arthur stepped into the telephone box.

Ron followed, pulling the door closed behind him, though it made for close quarters with his father inside. How in the world did we fit six people in here that night?

Be ready, just in case... Arthur repeated, dialing the requisite phone number.

Ron knew his father often unwittingly spoke in riddles, but this one was even more obscure than usual. Ron asked again. What are you on about, Dad?

The female voice emanated from around them. Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and business.

Ron started to speak into the phone, but his father pushed him away. Arthur Weasley, Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office, Employee Badge #5A6-87-SQ and Ronald Weasley, Employee Guest.Thank you, the cool voice said.

A long, empty silence followed, which made Arthur begin to look around nervously. he said, leaning forward to jam two fingers into the coin return slot repeatedly. Damn you, Longley--

Blaring sirens suddenly ripped through the silence and both Weasleys covered their ears in response. Ron squirmed to push the doors open, but they wouldn't budge.

They're locked! he yelled.

Arthur Weasley simply closed his eyes as if he might have expected this all along and silently nodded.

He'd no sooner finished adding to Ron's confusion with this action than the phone box began to drop rapidly through the dark floors below, not in the slow, gentle movement Ron remembered, but in a stomach-lifting plummet. Yet it didn't take them to the Atrium level. At some point before then, the phone box tilted precariously to one side, slamming both Ron and his father against the glass.

What's happening?! Ron yelled as the sirens relented a bit in volume.

his father yelled back.

Ron shouted, then a sickening feeling punched him directly in the gut. Oh no...

The sirens stopped abruptly and the phone box bumped to a halt in complete darkness. It righted itself, and another voice, this time male and not nearly so cool and pleasant as the first, rained down upon them. Employee and Guest, you have been detained to complete Phase Two security clearance. Please leave wands where they cannot be accessed and lace fingers of both hands behind your heads. When the doors open, wait for instructions before stepping through them. Disregarding these instructions may result in injury or death.

Ron set his box of parts down on the floor before following his father's lead and placing his hands behind his head. he said, his voice a bit high and thin. Is this about --? Arthur interrupted. It'll be fine. Longley told me he took care of it. Just do what they say. We'll be all right in a few minutes when we get it all straightened out.

The doors before them opened slowly and a glaring light shone straight into their faces. After their eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness, Arthur and Ron found themselves staring down the shafts of no less than five wands pointed directly at their hearts.

Step carefully through the door, Arthur Weasley, the voice said. Ron could see a wizard across the room behind a glass shield of some sort pointing his wand at his throat; his was apparently the voice they were listening to. You have been scanned and cleared for entry.

Arthur did as he was told and stepped through the line of security wizards, pausing to glance meaningfully into the faces of several of them. Ron narrowed his eyes in the bright light, but couldn't make out their features. He felt very vulnerable like this with his hands laced behind his head and so far away from the wand in his back pocket. But then, that was probably the point.

Employee Guest, step forward slowly into the room. Leave hands in position, please.

Ron took a deep breath and stepped toward the line of wands. He could practically feel their points following him as he moved. Once he was out of the light he began to see he was in a stark room of gray, surrounded by a group of five wizards and witches.

The man behind the screen craned his neck to see past the group of people in the middle of the floor and squinted into the telephone box. That box there in the lift. What is that, boy?Erm, parts-- Ron was thinking frantically, knowing that he didn't dare mention he and his dad had Sirius Black's flying motorbike at home that they happened to be renovating. Not sure what from--something Muggle. My dad was bringing them in for verification in his office.That true, Weasley? the voice asked.

Ron and Arthur echoed, though Ron's face went red when he realized the wizard had only been talking to his father.

Yes, sir, Arthur repeated. May I show you?Fine, then. Wand check for the guest--now identified as Weasley junior, the voice-wizard ordered.

Weasley junior? Ergh! Ron felt his wand being removed from his back jeans pocket and a security witch came from behind him; she crossed the room to go beyond the glass screen and began doing something at the far side of the voice-wizard.

Arthur re-entered the telephone box and picked up the small box of motorcycle parts, carrying them to the wizard behind the screen. The two men began to speak and the voice-wizard scrabbled around in the box a moment disinterestedly, but Ron could hear nothing of what they said.

The witch -- an older, frizzy-haired woman with a stern and haggard face and a missing front tooth -- finished quickly. She stumbled once as she walked back across the room, then moved behind Ron again. As she returned his wand to his back pocket, he jumped when the tip was deliberately and stoutly poked into him. Frowning at the intrusion, he glanced over at the witch, who returned to her position in the circle around him but didn't point her wand again. Instead, to his horror, she winked and gave him a sly little smile.

His stomach already most unsettled from nerves and the harrowing sideways phone box ride, Ron jerked his gaze away from her to stare straight ahead and fought the urge to wretch at this final indignity.

A few minutes later, Arthur stepped out from behind the glass and walked toward his son with a little silver badge in his hand. His father set the box of parts on the floor for a moment, reached out, and quickly pinned the badge on Ron's shirt.

Ronald Weasley, the voice said. You have been granted a one-day security clearance under the supervision of your father, Arthur Weasley. Security wizards Shacklebolt and Fiddley will escort you to the main corridor. Have a nice day.

A nice day, my arse! Ron thought. He wondered if the Shacklebolt' was the same Kingsley Shacklebolt he knew from the Order even though he didn't think he recognized anyone standing in front of him. But he most certainly hoped that Fiddley was not the witch with the sly little smile.

And she was.

A tall wizard grabbed his left arm from behind as did the dark little witch from the right, guiding him out into the corridor. The four of them walked in silence for a distance down the empty hallway, at which point the little witch seemed to explode.

she laughed. She let go of Ron's arm and stopped to hold her stomach, doubling over. She obviously couldn't breathe long enough to get her sentence out.

What's so bloody funny? Ron snapped, even though he knew he should have held
back with a security witch.

You--you --should have seen your face! Bwahahaha! she started in again. The three males just looked at one another blankly. But this time when she stood straight and began to compose herself, he realized that her features had changed.

A slow, knowing smile started to spread across Ron's face and he began to shake his head. Tonks. I will never forgive you for that. Never -- you hear me?

Kingsley Shacklebolt smiled, looking between the two of them. Something must have been quite good --what did I miss? Forgive her for what?

Ron felt his ears going hot as he glared at Tonks. Never mind. She knows.

This started Tonks in on another round of guffaws. The two men shrugged and ignored her while Ron narrowed his eyes at her and shook his head.

Arthur turned to Kingsley and pointed around them, a question on his face.

No, we're okay here. No bugs, Shacklebolt confirmed.

What happened with Longley? Arthur asked. I thought he had it covered.We thought so, too, Kingsley said. But they keep updating the security lists--it's hard to make sure we've changed the most current one because they have this odd rotation system. Sorry about the cloak and dagger act -- there's been this practice scenario recently about someone kidnapping an employee and holding them at wandpoint to get inside the building. Too many self-imagined heroes in this place--what's sad is they wouldn't see a real security risk for the nose on their faces...I'm a security risk? Ron asked, afraid that he already knew the answer. This is about the night we broke in, isn't it?

Shacklebolt pressed his lips together and nodded his head. Mostly, yes. They'll get past it, of course. But right now, we're on the highest alert level possible. Anyone who was in the building that night is subject to a shakedown by security, no matter what their rank -- and your name came up. The Ministry is almost as uneasy about you kids being here as they are about the Death Eaters. Sorry to say this, but wherever you and
your friends go, things start to happen.Reckon I'd be stupid to deny that, Ron admitted.

We thought Dumbledore had done something to get your names off of the list, but you all turned up on it again.That's one reason I didn't want to try and Floo in, Ron, Arthur said. I didn't think you wanted to go through all the bells and whistles right out there in the middle of the Atrium in case things didn't work out. At least this way you only had to deal with the security wizards.Some of whom are friends, Tonks said, looping her arm through Ron's as if she was trying to make peace.


Were friends, mind you, Ron said, sneering down at her. And mind that I don't get angry any more, I just get even.

She made a face in mock fear at his remark, then settled in to listen carefully to Arthur and Shacklebolt.

In spite of his tough talk, it bothered Ron that Tonks left her arm in place through his, not only because she might have been able to see the scars peeking out from under his long shirt sleeve at this close range, but just because...He knew it meant absolutely nothing and was as natural as breathing for her, but he wasn't used to any female friends except Hermione even standing that close--it only made him think of how much farther away he was than Harry to ever being more than friends with a girl. After all, Harry had got pretty close to Cho...or was it Cho who got close to Harry? Either way, Harry had been there, stupid Weasley hadn't--and with these scars, the chances were looking slimmer all the time, unless Hermione...

Have we got the other situation set up and ready to go? Arthur asked Kingsley. Hopefully set to come off better than this did?As far as we can tell, it should go flawlessly, Shacklebolt said. Right, Miss Fiddley?

Tonks transformed immediately into the older woman again and Ron yanked his arm away from her in disgust; she snickered at him. Good of Bruta Fiddley to get the grippe just when we needed a spot in Security. But it's damned irritating to have to call myself in sick and still come to work. Ah, what I do for the Order...

The four of them continued walking, climbing a flight of stairs that took them to the Atrium through the door at the top. As soon as the group entered the Atrium, Shacklebolt and Tonks (as Fiddley) resumed their professional manner, behaving as if they barely knew Arthur and had no use for Ron at all.

Ron heard Tonks mutter under her breath to his father. O-nine-thirty, Floo five.

Something odd was definitely going on that he knew nothing about. Whether it was Order business or not, he wasn't certain, but he didn't understand why his father would bring him in to work on a day when something very important was going on. And, after all, it had been his father's idea. Surely he hadn't forgotten whatever this was...It was also strange that his father had put him through the entire security ordeal just for a day at work with him, even though he knew they might have a problem getting in. All this over replacing the motorbike parts? But then, it was Arthur Weasley, Muggle-o-maniac extraordinaire--perhaps he was indeed that determined to get that motorbike fixed up for Harry.

Ron and Arthur walked toward the main lifts and finally found their way down to the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office. Arthur walked into his office and dropped the box of parts on top of the papers stacked on his desk, which were numerous and certainly in no particular order. Several paper airplane memos lay in strict formation in his father's Inbox.

It took a few moments for Ron to realize there was someone else in the room. Arthur's office-mate, Perkins, had been leaning down looking through something deep in a bottom desk drawer, so Ron had nearly helped himself to the man's chair before discovering there was already someone in it. The pleasant greetings over, Ron had to wait some time leaning against the wall (since there was no room for another chair in the office) before Perkins left on an errand and he had his father to himself.

Ron questioned quietly, but apparently not quietly enough. Something big happening at o-nine-thirty?Oh, yes, Arthur said loudly, meeting Sam for coffee at o-nine-thirty. He's seeing about those tickets to the train museum for me. Mr. Weasley nodded his head toward the ceiling and the walls, obviously trying to indicate to Ron that there was listening going on. It's about nine o'clock now, so it won't be long before we go back up, but I do have a few urgent issues to take care of before then. Arthur seated himself, shuffled around in the papers nearest the top of his stack, and started to work.

Though his curiosity was still piqued, Ron made himself comfortable in Perkins' chair and managed to entertain himself by perusing all of the Muggle artifact newspaper and magazine clippings pinned to the bulletin board behind the desk. He knew his father would let him in on the big secret if he could, as soon as it was safely possible. Every so often a paper airplane memo would fly in and land itself in his father's or Perkins' inbox, and he noticed that his father sent a few on their way as well.

Ron was relieved when his father stood and asked if he was ready to go meet Sam. He got up and prepared to leave the office, but Arthur suddenly stopped, looking perplexed, and visually scanned his area. Ah! This will do nicely! He picked up the box of motorcycle parts, Spell-o-Taped it sealed, then began to root around on his desk for his quill.

Dad, why are we taking this now? Ron asked. Don't you have to wait until this afternoon--

Shoving the sealed box into Ron's hands, Arthur interrupted by grabbing his son's elbow and pushing him out into the deserted corridor, speaking softly nonetheless.

You have a very important delivery to make for me, actually-- Arthur said, his eyes twinkling, --along with Fiddley's help, of course.

Ron was more confused than ever. Me? Make a delivery? Why? And with Ton--erm, Fiddley? Arthur said. It's most urgent. He reached to address the box lid with the quill he'd brought along, hastily writing: Arabella FiggArabella Figg? What would she want with--?This is not what we're delivering, Arthur interrupted quietly as he finished addressing the box: Number sixteen, Privet Drive, Little Whinging.That's right! Ron said excitedly. She lives just down the street from-- The sudden realization hit him the moment his father's hand clapped over his mouth to cover the shout. A muffled, two-syllable word emanated from underneath the hand, sounding most definitely like .

Once Arthur's hand was removed, a huge grin sprang forth from his son's face. That's what you went through all this for?

Arthur nodded, smiling. That's the reason--well, and you still need some new parts later. So don't forget to bring these back--Well, am I--?Only there for the day, Arthur finished. It's the best we could do. Right now, at least for a while, we're using double security to make sure Harry's being better taken care of than last year. Anyone going near Privet Drive has to go through the Ministry Security checks and clearance by us in the Order to avoid any alarms going off somewhere. But all of this protection is beginning to drive Harry mad--he needs some cheering up and it seems you could do with a little yourself. Besides, it may be all we can do for a while, at least until a week or more after his birthday.

Ron was most definitely in a better frame of mind now. Does Harry know?Only if Remus told him, Arthur said, looking up and down the corridor just in case, which means I doubt it. We thought it best if you two met at Arabella's house--she has the Floo and that way there wouldn't be any slips or mistakes made at Harry's aunt's and uncle's. They're very jittery types anyway, don't you think? Ron agreed. Ron briefly recalled his own experiences with the Dursleys and couldn't imagine trying to spend the day at their house, even if Harry was there.

Time is short, Arthur said. We'd best be going.

The two of them set off for the lifts, unable to continue their discussion about their plans due to the great number of people present in the hallways and on the lifts. Soon they arrived at Floo five where Bruta Fiddley was already waiting.

Bring the package, Weasley? she asked Ron brusquely.

Ron grimaced at her, still having trouble coping with the fact that Tonks was under there somewhere. Then let's be off. No time to waste. Tonks turned to glare at a witch and wizard who seemed prepared to step into Floo five, but suddenly changed their mind and hurried away under the heat of Bruta Fiddley's gaze. Security business--regulations, she spat after them, before looking back at Ron. You're in first.

Ron turned quickly to his father. Dad -- see you this afternoon--we'll go take care of-- He lifted the box of parts slightly. And thanks for--this--the chance to go.

Arthur nodded and smiled slightly, then spoke in a whisper. Say hello to Mrs. Figg for
me if you see her--and any of her guests, of course. I hope they're...entertaining.

Grinning at his father's use of code for Say hi to Harry and have fun, Ron stepped into the hearth and spoke loudly into the flue as he read from the package, Number sixteen Privet Drive, Little Whinging!



Acknowledgments:
The Muggle side of explorer Shipton's story regarding his encounter with the Yeti was adapted from information found on the website: , the owner of which has apparently now published a book including this piece with with other Yeti stories. Shipton's photos of the Yeti footprints are still available on the site. (This author has no official connection with said site, thank you very much. :)

Whether or not she invented the word originally, I have borrowed the description of Arthur Weasley as a Muggle-o-maniac from reader Ara Kane because it just fits Arthur so perfectly. Thank you, Ara, for leaving such a wonderful word in your review, sitting there just ripe for the picking! :)

NZ