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The second part of this. Yeah, finally.
(In other words, AU containing Axian, Ed, and Genoa. Because I promised myself I'd write something tonight.)
In Circles and Surveillance
9 July, 1976:
"Broderick Bode?"
Axian jumped. He hadn't expected to be recognized by anyone at Flourish & Blotts, especially not somebody who didn't realize he preferred his middle name. "Erm, yeah?" He turned to see a woman looking expectantly at him. He'd never seen her in his life, so he blinked. "What'd I do?" he asked.
"I understand you've been accepted into the Department of Mysteries' training progr -- oh, don't get that book, it's no good. Half of it's been disproven and the other half everybody knows." She grabbed Imaginary Numbers and the Fabric of Reality out of his hand and replaced it on the shelf. "This one's better. Are they assigning you this rubbish?"
"...yeah," said Axian slowly, wondering if maybe the woman was just a wandering lunatic. Who recognized him. No, no, that was dumb. "...I don't mean to be rude, but who are you?"
"Oh, that," said the woman. She extended a hand. "Genoa Alden. I'm an arithmancer."
"For the Department of Mysteries?" He frowned at her hand, as though he'd never seen one before.
"...no," she said, rolling her eyes.
"Oh. Er. I'm sorry. Should I know you?"
She sighed heavily. "No. Look, just shut up and come with me."
"How do I know you're not a Death Eater?" he demanded.
"Because I'm not!" she said.
"How do I know?" he asked.
"Well, I suppose you don't," said the woman, "but I was asked by my employer to meet you, and she can always find somebody else to do what she wants you to do."
"But -- oh," said Axian. "Are you working for Espis --"
"Quiet. This isn't exactly legal, you know," she hissed.
"Oh. Yeah. Hadn't thought of that," said Axian. "So what d'you want me for?"
"I don't know, you look rather useless," she said.
"...I meant," said Axian, glaring, "what did they send you to tell me?"
"Oh, that. Can't talk about that out in the open. Buy your books, I'll meet you in the Leaky Cauldron." She turned to leave.
"All right," said Axian, grabbing Imaginary Numbers and the Fabric of Reality out from the bookshelf again.
"And you'd better not be bringing that bloody Fabric of Wossit book with you, is all I'm saying," she called back.
"...'course not," said Axian, resolving to disguise it as an atlas or something. He bought his books and wandered over to the Leaky Cauldron. Once he'd spotted her there, she motioned him out into Muggle London. And they walked.
And walked, and walked. Axian could swear they'd passed that one street corner over there about eight times. "Are we going anywhere or are we just going around in circles?" he asked, trying not to whine.
"Circles," she said cheerfully.
"...why are we going around in circles?"
"Because a Portkey's very conspicuous," said the woman.
"...um. And walking around in circles isn't?"
"In certain ways, no," she said. "Stop!"
Axian halted, putting on a face of bland obedience. In reality, he was debating whether to break into a run.
"Take five steps to the... left, I think," she said.
At least left was away from her. Axian edged away carefully, and suddenly found himself being pulled through the air by a Portkey that did not exist.
When he found himself back in the world of the living, he was face-down on a dusty wooden floor. "Get up!" snapped an imperious voice.
"Ngh," said Axian, rubbing his nose to make sure it wasn't broken. He didn't think it was, but it hurt an awful lot. He looked up to see Edwina Espis sitting in an armchair beside an empty fireplace. He saw a chalked pentagram on the floor where he'd appeared. This must be one of those objectless Portkeys he'd heard about. "Um, pardon me for saying so, but that's not very safe, the Ministry says --"
"The objectless Portkey is perfectly safe, at least for the traveler," said Espis. "They only want it suppressed because it could be useful for the Death Eaters. Now get up."
He scrambled up, just in time to avoid Alden landing on him. "What am I here for?" he asked, frowning at the pentacle. Maybe they wanted him to summon a demon. But he didn't think demons existed, aside from the sort you learned about in Care of Magical Creatures.
"I've asked Genoa to place a tracking charm on you," said Espis.
"...I don't want a tracking charm on me," said Axian, blinking.
"Well, we can always find a replacement for you, I suppose there's still time," said the Espis woman. "Pity to go through all that now, though."
"...why do you want a tracking charm on me?" he demanded, glaring.
"Well, for one thing," said Alden, "the Department of Mysteries is a madhouse, everybody knows that. If you get lost there, at least we'll know where you've gone. And they might not care where you've gone. We've got a vested interest in your well-being, you see."
"And that's another thing. What do you want in the Department of Mysteries, anyway?" he demanded.
Alden began, but Espis cut her off with a look. "We'll talk about that later. Now, Genoa, if you would do the spell? Stand in the middle of that pentacle, Mr. Bode."
"Nobody's going to land on me, will they?"
"I should hope not," said Alden. "Unless we were followed. Now just stand very still, or you might die."
"What?"
"Well, I don't want to accidentally cut off an arm or anything," she said, beginning to trace numbers and symbols into the air around him with her wand, a trail of purple sparks following the tip. After what seemed an eternity, during which Axian's nose developed a terrible itch, the numbers faded, and she backed away. "All right, you can move now."
"What sort of tracking charm was that?"
"If you get seriously injured in another dimension or timeline, I know where you are and I can send somebody to come get you," said Alden. "So be nice to me."
"I won't get into any trouble!" Axian insisted, privately becoming a bit worried. Other dimensions? Though an avid reader of perhaps the pulpier sorts of science fiction, Axian had always thought that timelines were more likely to appear in History of Magic than in a research laboratory.
"We'll see," said Alden. "Now, I doubt anyone knows where we are, so you can Apparate out of here. The wards block Apparating in, though, so don't even bother, you'll get sent to the basement."
"What's in the basement?"
"...good question. What is in the basement?"
Espis sighed, putting her hand to her head as though it hurt. "We were testing our space-expansion charms and ended up with a bottomless pit."
"...right, I'll stay away from this place," said Axian. He Apparated out without even bothering to say goodbye. At any rate, he was rather regretting having signed up for this.
Except, well. It sounded cool. He could get lost in other dimensions!
Axian grinned like an idiot and sat down to read the first few chapters of Imaginary Numbers and the Fabric of Reality.
(In other words, AU containing Axian, Ed, and Genoa. Because I promised myself I'd write something tonight.)
In Circles and Surveillance
9 July, 1976:
"Broderick Bode?"
Axian jumped. He hadn't expected to be recognized by anyone at Flourish & Blotts, especially not somebody who didn't realize he preferred his middle name. "Erm, yeah?" He turned to see a woman looking expectantly at him. He'd never seen her in his life, so he blinked. "What'd I do?" he asked.
"I understand you've been accepted into the Department of Mysteries' training progr -- oh, don't get that book, it's no good. Half of it's been disproven and the other half everybody knows." She grabbed Imaginary Numbers and the Fabric of Reality out of his hand and replaced it on the shelf. "This one's better. Are they assigning you this rubbish?"
"...yeah," said Axian slowly, wondering if maybe the woman was just a wandering lunatic. Who recognized him. No, no, that was dumb. "...I don't mean to be rude, but who are you?"
"Oh, that," said the woman. She extended a hand. "Genoa Alden. I'm an arithmancer."
"For the Department of Mysteries?" He frowned at her hand, as though he'd never seen one before.
"...no," she said, rolling her eyes.
"Oh. Er. I'm sorry. Should I know you?"
She sighed heavily. "No. Look, just shut up and come with me."
"How do I know you're not a Death Eater?" he demanded.
"Because I'm not!" she said.
"How do I know?" he asked.
"Well, I suppose you don't," said the woman, "but I was asked by my employer to meet you, and she can always find somebody else to do what she wants you to do."
"But -- oh," said Axian. "Are you working for Espis --"
"Quiet. This isn't exactly legal, you know," she hissed.
"Oh. Yeah. Hadn't thought of that," said Axian. "So what d'you want me for?"
"I don't know, you look rather useless," she said.
"...I meant," said Axian, glaring, "what did they send you to tell me?"
"Oh, that. Can't talk about that out in the open. Buy your books, I'll meet you in the Leaky Cauldron." She turned to leave.
"All right," said Axian, grabbing Imaginary Numbers and the Fabric of Reality out from the bookshelf again.
"And you'd better not be bringing that bloody Fabric of Wossit book with you, is all I'm saying," she called back.
"...'course not," said Axian, resolving to disguise it as an atlas or something. He bought his books and wandered over to the Leaky Cauldron. Once he'd spotted her there, she motioned him out into Muggle London. And they walked.
And walked, and walked. Axian could swear they'd passed that one street corner over there about eight times. "Are we going anywhere or are we just going around in circles?" he asked, trying not to whine.
"Circles," she said cheerfully.
"...why are we going around in circles?"
"Because a Portkey's very conspicuous," said the woman.
"...um. And walking around in circles isn't?"
"In certain ways, no," she said. "Stop!"
Axian halted, putting on a face of bland obedience. In reality, he was debating whether to break into a run.
"Take five steps to the... left, I think," she said.
At least left was away from her. Axian edged away carefully, and suddenly found himself being pulled through the air by a Portkey that did not exist.
When he found himself back in the world of the living, he was face-down on a dusty wooden floor. "Get up!" snapped an imperious voice.
"Ngh," said Axian, rubbing his nose to make sure it wasn't broken. He didn't think it was, but it hurt an awful lot. He looked up to see Edwina Espis sitting in an armchair beside an empty fireplace. He saw a chalked pentagram on the floor where he'd appeared. This must be one of those objectless Portkeys he'd heard about. "Um, pardon me for saying so, but that's not very safe, the Ministry says --"
"The objectless Portkey is perfectly safe, at least for the traveler," said Espis. "They only want it suppressed because it could be useful for the Death Eaters. Now get up."
He scrambled up, just in time to avoid Alden landing on him. "What am I here for?" he asked, frowning at the pentacle. Maybe they wanted him to summon a demon. But he didn't think demons existed, aside from the sort you learned about in Care of Magical Creatures.
"I've asked Genoa to place a tracking charm on you," said Espis.
"...I don't want a tracking charm on me," said Axian, blinking.
"Well, we can always find a replacement for you, I suppose there's still time," said the Espis woman. "Pity to go through all that now, though."
"...why do you want a tracking charm on me?" he demanded, glaring.
"Well, for one thing," said Alden, "the Department of Mysteries is a madhouse, everybody knows that. If you get lost there, at least we'll know where you've gone. And they might not care where you've gone. We've got a vested interest in your well-being, you see."
"And that's another thing. What do you want in the Department of Mysteries, anyway?" he demanded.
Alden began, but Espis cut her off with a look. "We'll talk about that later. Now, Genoa, if you would do the spell? Stand in the middle of that pentacle, Mr. Bode."
"Nobody's going to land on me, will they?"
"I should hope not," said Alden. "Unless we were followed. Now just stand very still, or you might die."
"What?"
"Well, I don't want to accidentally cut off an arm or anything," she said, beginning to trace numbers and symbols into the air around him with her wand, a trail of purple sparks following the tip. After what seemed an eternity, during which Axian's nose developed a terrible itch, the numbers faded, and she backed away. "All right, you can move now."
"What sort of tracking charm was that?"
"If you get seriously injured in another dimension or timeline, I know where you are and I can send somebody to come get you," said Alden. "So be nice to me."
"I won't get into any trouble!" Axian insisted, privately becoming a bit worried. Other dimensions? Though an avid reader of perhaps the pulpier sorts of science fiction, Axian had always thought that timelines were more likely to appear in History of Magic than in a research laboratory.
"We'll see," said Alden. "Now, I doubt anyone knows where we are, so you can Apparate out of here. The wards block Apparating in, though, so don't even bother, you'll get sent to the basement."
"What's in the basement?"
"...good question. What is in the basement?"
Espis sighed, putting her hand to her head as though it hurt. "We were testing our space-expansion charms and ended up with a bottomless pit."
"...right, I'll stay away from this place," said Axian. He Apparated out without even bothering to say goodbye. At any rate, he was rather regretting having signed up for this.
Except, well. It sounded cool. He could get lost in other dimensions!
Axian grinned like an idiot and sat down to read the first few chapters of Imaginary Numbers and the Fabric of Reality.