SOLAR FLARE: The Magical Blackout
A flare is defined as a sudden, rapid, and intense variation in brightness. A solar flare occurs when magnetic energy that has built up in the solar atmosphere is suddenly released. Radiation is emitted across virtually the entire electromagnetic spectrum, from radio waves at the long wavelength end, through optical emission to x-rays and gamma
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Cormac watched her struggle, his own wand gripped between his fingers.
It was supposed to be a five minute errand, a quick stop by his office to pick up a few rolls of parchment he needed to finish before he left for Paris with Daphne. He had been far too eager about the trip, just the idea of two long days lingering in a Parisian flat without anything to worry about reason to mark it on his calendar. He wasn't typically one to plan moments like this, whisking a woman away when he felt like it.
Daphne had caused him to make plans. Think about futures he didn't typically have in mind for himself.
But the errand had elongated purely by a headache. It set on faster than he was used to, his temples thumping as he lingered in his office. It was a passing flash, gone before he knew it. Still, his body felt weird, off, and completely new.
He pulled his wand from his sleeve in order to lock at his personal cabinet, storing away all the private files he'd been rummaging through, when he felt it go hallow in his hands. He glanced down at it before flicking it toward the cabinet. Nothing shifted.
He tried a few more times, each moment growing more frustrated.
He moved into the corridor, wondering if there was anyone else around.
And that was when he noticed Hermione.
"I can't get anything to work-" he admitted.
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Hermione turned to face Cormac McClaggan. Really? Of all the people...
"I don't understand what could possibly be wrong," she said as she lifted up her wand and inspecting it for tears or breaks that she hadn't noticed before. She felt her head pounding.
"Do you feel awful, by any chance?"
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"A bit like an empty feeling," he admitted, shrugging his shoulders. "You too?"
He took a step closer toward her, staring at the lift doors, willing them to open.
"This doesn't mean... we're stuck, right?" he asked, frowning.
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"I don't suppose the Ministry would have installed fire-exits," she said with a somewhat irritated tone. Any decent muggle building would have multiple exits. But here in the wizarding world- why would they bother?
Well. They should have. It would have only taken them a moment!
"Yes, I guess this means we're stuck," she replied matching his tone.
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"Stuck?"
That was a word he never liked. He scratched behind his ear, stuffing his wand in his back pocket as he looked at Hermione with a hapless glance.
"That can't be possible-" he said, walking past her, his hands gripping at the lift doors. He shook them, eyes peering through gold gate. "Is that possible?"
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She carefully tucked her wand back into her sleeve and turned away from the lift, though she eyed it as if it curse it.
"There must be another way," she said urgently. The last thing she wanted to do was waste away her Saturday trying to find a way to leave the Ministry when she had every intention of working until the early hours of the morning.
Though, the whole thing was very troubling. She hadn't failed at performing a spell for a very long time.
"Have you only taken the lift to this floor?"
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"The lift is the only way to get to any floor-" he said, as if it was common knowledge.
Which was precisely why he was trying so hard not to panic now. He sucked in a breath before turning his body completely, leaning his back against the doors.
"When did your wand stop working?"
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She shook her head, "Maybe only a few minutes ago," she checked her watch, which thankfully was still working. "Around noon, I'd say.
"Same for you?"
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His brow furrowed, his eyes glancing at his watch now anyway.
"Something is going on-" he said, pushing away from the wall, beginning to pace slightly. "Something is definitely going on."
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All thought of work was behind her.
So, their wands weren't working. The lift wasn't working. They felt strange.
But their watches were ticking away merrily.
Hermione ran back into her office and quickly wrote a memo to Ella and placed it in her out-box.
And, instead of finding its way to Ella's desk, it stubbornly remained in the out-box.
So, established charms were dead.
"Oh no," Hermione said holding onto her forehead. Her eyes became wide, slightly horrified, "I wonder..."
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Cormac was trying to rack his brain, trying to grasp what could possibly be happening when something seemed to click in his head. Nothing within the Ministry was ticking in its typical way- no buzz of in-going or out-going mail, nothing buzzing over the intercom.
And while it was atypical that people were in the Ministry at this hour on a weekend, it was exceptionally quiet.
He was hanging on the door leading into Hermione's office when he saw it dawn on Hermione's face.
"Granger- our magic-" he said, rubbing at his temple. "What's going on with our magic-"
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Hermione didn't want to say it. She was a Muggleborn, and magic being real was some sort of dream come true. And that she was good at it?
Was this all some sort of dream?
"Doesn't it feel as if all the magic is gone?"
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He didn't want to admit it for fear of it actually being true but there was no use in it, was there? He couldn't manage to produce a bloody locking charm and if Hermione couldn't get her wand to work then what hope was there for him, really?
Even he could admit that.
"Yeah, it does-" he said, raking his fingers through his hair. "So, where does that leave us?"
He kicked off from the door jam, pounding his fist lightly against the frame.
"We're stuck."
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Of all the books she's ever read, she was just about positive that all magic had never been reported as... missing-gone-vanished.
It wasn't even as if they could try to find their way down the side of the building to escape- they were deeply underground, despite the sunlight pouring in through the windows.
That sunlight was looking dimmer than usual, actually. In fact, in all the worry that they found themselves in, Hermione hadn't even noticed how dim the room was getting.
"We're going to need to find another light source, and quickly."
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"Right-"
At the very least, if there was anyone who could somehow find the logic behind all of this or a way to fix it- it was a lucky thing he was stuck with Hermione Granger. It was an odd feeling to have, considering his long, poorly-hidden feelings for her. The ones that remained in the past tense now.
He briefly wondered where Daphne was- if she was alright- if she was locked in somewhere, too.
"How likely do you think it is that we've got matches or a light thingy hidden somewhere in here?"
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Hermione walked over to the neighboring desk and started opening the drawers, trying not to do too much snooping, "Are there any smokers in your department?"
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