Monday, August 5
Sirius stepped out of the telephone box into the bustling Atrium on a Monday morning, his crisp, well-fitting black robes blending into the sea of witches and wizards scurrying about. He strode purposefully, noticing the empty plinth where the Fountain of Magical Brethren had once stood and thought the Atrium almost lacked its usual glamour without it.
He joined the group of Ministry employees making forward, grateful that nobody had noticed him yet. He stepped out of the stream of people heading for the golden gates, toward a desk on the left over which hung a sign saying SECURITY. A wizard in peacock-blue robes looked up as he approached, putting down his Daily Prophet.
"Visitor," stated Sirius and was not at all surprised when the man gaped open-mouthed at him. He knew he must have looked a bit intimidating with the flat expression on his face and the reputation that surely preceded him. People still couldn't shake off the thought that he was a violent, mass-murderer.
Sirius raised an eyebrow. "I haven't got all day."
The man quickly came to his senses as he stood up hastily. He produced a pair of Secrecy Sensors and ran it down Sirius' front and back, nervously. Then, he asked quite politely, "I need your wand for identification."
Sirius handed it to him and the man dropped it into the brass instrument which vibrated then produced a strip of paper. The wizard read it aloud confirming its identity and handed his wand back to him. Sirius nodded and joined the crowd of wizards and witches heading for the golden gates.
It led to a hall where at least twenty lifts stood behind wrought golden grilles. Sirius walked to stand beside one that was relatively less populated. The lift descended and Sirius followed the two witches and two wizards as he entered the lift. A couple of wizards who had been about to enter the lift, froze as they took one good look at his face. They hurried away, presumably to take another one. Sirius was amused to note that the occupants already present had edged as far away from him as possible and the grilles shut.
The lift stopped at Level Seven where predictably the people waiting outside did not enter the lift and then at Level Six, where one of the wizards behind him scurried out.
Sirius idly noted the flying memos that he had not seen before his time in Azkaban. It must be some sort of new method of communication. At Level Five, two witches got in and stood to a side, watching Sirius unabashedly.
After a couple more stops, the entire lift was empty as he descended straight down. The cool female voice announced, "Level One, Offices of the Minister of Magic and Senior Undersecretary to the Minister."
He stepped out into the purple-carpeted corridors. It seemed like a spell had been cast over the unnaturally silent corridors. He walked forward and turned a corner to see a door ajar leading into a hallway where there were a couple of Hit Wizards standing guard. A desk was propped up beside a large set of oak double doors with the plaque:
Rufus Scrimgeour
Minister of Magic
He went up to the desk and watched as the witch who, he assumed was some sort of assistant, looked up at him with a self-important expression, which immediately morphed to amazement.
"Sirius Black. I have an appointment with the Minister," said Sirius by way of introduction.
The witch nodded hastily, pushing back a strand of her hair as she rifled through the parchments in front of her. "Yes, yes. Of course."
YOU ARE READING
Dysfunctional
FanfictionPost-OotP: Sirius is cleared and finally gets to give Harry the home he had always wanted. Rebuilding his life with a war brewing in their world isn't simple. It's a good thing he has a family that he can fall back on this time. What he didn't reali...
