Paradox, Part 11
Sep. 25th, 2006 10:37 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
pandora_culpaDaaaaaamn. We're finally here- the Ministry scene! This segment is short, but I'm posting it anyway, and will just have to work hard to get the next bit. I'm sure I'll hear about leaving you all hanging like this...
We'll just call it "incentive".
Title: Paradox
Word Count: 1256
Dramatis Personae: Tonks, Kingsley, minor OFCs
Scene Rating: PG, still
A/N: This is about the time when the story really picks up the pace...
Green flames roared, swirling around the fireplace, and Tonks stepped though them onto the grate, her cloak billowing against her ankles. Once she was clear of the fireplace the sparkling green light vanished, and she dropped down onto the marble floor of the Ministry building as quietly as she was able. The early morning hours made the large building feel hollow and desolate, as though it had been long abandoned, instead of merely being at a hiatus between shifts, and she winced at the noise her boots made across the stone floor.
Her sleep had been filled with formless nightmares, and an odd somberness filled her usually bright mood. As she'd dressed, the thought had actually occurred to her to skip the meeting, lie to Moody, and just lay low through the day, but her sense of duty rebelled at the notion. If I'd wanted easy and safe, I wouldn't have been an Auror, she'd thought grimly as she fastened on her cloak, but now, tiptoeing through the shadowy and tomb-like Ministry building, the idea didn't seem half so bad.
The tingle of wrongness had returned with the morning, like a mosquito humming and buzzing around the back of her head. Twice she lifted her hand, unconsciously trying to swat away the feeling, but finally roused from her thoughts enough to notice and hurriedly drop her arm. It wouldn't do to be seen acting in such a way, flailing about at things that weren't there. Her behavior had evoked enough comment lately as it was without adding more peculiarities.
Thanks to the lack of the crowds, traversing the meandering path through the Ministry took less time than usual and Tonks was soon standing before the door of the conference hall where the morning meeting was to take place. Still vaguely spooked by the deserted feeling of the Ministry building, she loitered in the hall for a few minutes, trying to settle her rattled nerves by walking them out, as well as putting off the moment she'd have to actually enter the meeting.
A couple other Aurors, Blake and Cheevly, scurried past her with murmured good mornings, and she tried to answer them with her usual cheek. But her words fell flat, and late; the door was already closing at their heels, and she returned to her pacing. But after several more minutes passed with no improvement she gave up, and with one last, rueful swipe at the miasma surrounding her head, she grasped the door handle and pulled it open.
The hall was full, most of the Aurors seated on wooden chairs which had been set up in rows. A few unfamiliar faces dotted the crowd, causing her brows to furrow, but then she caught sight of Kingsley's familiar bald pate looming above the crowd at the front of the room. A sense of relief washed over her and she made a beeline for him, murmuring apologies to the various people she jostled or crowded as she wove through the chairs and Aurors. He half-turned as she approached, flashing a tight smile her way before returning his attention to the small cluster of aged wizards who were murmuring to one another beside the dais. She recognized several of them from the Wizengamot, and another- a distinguished-looking fellow with a glossy black beard and a thin scar on his cheek- she'd encountered before in the basements of the Ministry, though she'd no idea as to his position. He didn't appear to be taking part in the conversation, but rather watched the milling Aurors in the room with the attentive patience of a sheepdog.
"Bit thick in here," commented Kingsley, as Tonks finally pushed between Haversham and Trilby to reach him, earning her a glare from the younger woman.
Tonks gave a curt nod in agreement, not quite trusting that her voice wouldn't betray her nervousness. Glancing down at her, the tall wizard grunted sourly. "They could have found a larger room, if they were calling in this many Aurors. And who are those blokes, I wonder?"
Following his gaze, Tonks saw several unfamiliar faces in the crowd, most near the walls or doors of the room. Like the black bearded man, their attention was focused on the activity of the room rather than any individual, and a shiver went down her spine as she recognized the marked wariness they shared. These wizards and witches weren't a part of the milling throng of Aurors; they were distinctly separate, ringing the perimeter of the room and a wave of unease swept through Tonks as she wondered why no one else had noticed this.
But it seemed someone had. Across the room, Tonks saw the back of Mad Eye's grizzled head as he too peered about with the look of a caged animal. She could almost sense his tension even over the distance of the room, and her own nerves started a claxon of alarm that threatened to swamp her. But she bit down hard on her lower lip, forcing her eyes from Moody and back to the cluster of men up front who were clearly getting ready to speak.
"Here it comes," muttered Kingsley.
One of the men from the Wizengamot performed the Sonorus charm upon himself and, clearing his throat to bring all eyes forward, began thanking the Auror department for its hard work in these trying time, and its understanding in appearing at such an inconvenient hour. The Aurors who had remained standing, Tonks and Kingsley among them, hurried to find seats and a brief scuffling of boots and chair legs filled the packed room. Several more minutes of formalities followed, but the words slipped past Tonks without really commanding any attention. She could barely hear them for the persistent jangle of paranoia that was making it hard to stay in her seat. Kingsley noticed her agitation, raising a quizzical eyebrow, but she shook her head sharply and forced herself to ignore the mounting queasiness. If she couldn't find the reason for her discomfiting feelings, she was determined she'd at least overcome their hold upon her.
"…and of course that falls to you, the front lines of our defense against He Who Mustn't Be Named," the old wizard was saying. "But thanks to our dedicated Minister of Magic," he indicated Fudge, who tipped his bowler, "we've come up with a remarkable new tool to add to our arsenal of weapons against the Dark wizard. So if you'll all queue up and come forward one by one…"
The Aurors all took their feet once more, and as she stood, Tonks felt sure her head was going to split from the stark fear that was now gripping her. There wasn't any other word for it; the vague emotion that had been troubling her for so long had suddenly crystallized into a terrifying certainty that this room was about to become the most dangerous place she could imagine. For a moment she had the clear vision of herself fighting her way through her comrades, blasting open the doors and fleeing, but the line was shuffling forward slowly, and to her horror she was almost at the head of it.
"Merlin, no…" she whispered, not knowing why, as Kingsley stepped forward to face an unfamiliar witch with a steely expression. And as the witch raised her wand, the chaos from her mind spilled over into the room with a roar, nightmare fantasy and reality commingling until the only thing she could hear was the shouting, and her own unnaturally loud heartbeats.
We'll just call it "incentive".
Title: Paradox
Word Count: 1256
Dramatis Personae: Tonks, Kingsley, minor OFCs
Scene Rating: PG, still
A/N: This is about the time when the story really picks up the pace...
Green flames roared, swirling around the fireplace, and Tonks stepped though them onto the grate, her cloak billowing against her ankles. Once she was clear of the fireplace the sparkling green light vanished, and she dropped down onto the marble floor of the Ministry building as quietly as she was able. The early morning hours made the large building feel hollow and desolate, as though it had been long abandoned, instead of merely being at a hiatus between shifts, and she winced at the noise her boots made across the stone floor.
Her sleep had been filled with formless nightmares, and an odd somberness filled her usually bright mood. As she'd dressed, the thought had actually occurred to her to skip the meeting, lie to Moody, and just lay low through the day, but her sense of duty rebelled at the notion. If I'd wanted easy and safe, I wouldn't have been an Auror, she'd thought grimly as she fastened on her cloak, but now, tiptoeing through the shadowy and tomb-like Ministry building, the idea didn't seem half so bad.
The tingle of wrongness had returned with the morning, like a mosquito humming and buzzing around the back of her head. Twice she lifted her hand, unconsciously trying to swat away the feeling, but finally roused from her thoughts enough to notice and hurriedly drop her arm. It wouldn't do to be seen acting in such a way, flailing about at things that weren't there. Her behavior had evoked enough comment lately as it was without adding more peculiarities.
Thanks to the lack of the crowds, traversing the meandering path through the Ministry took less time than usual and Tonks was soon standing before the door of the conference hall where the morning meeting was to take place. Still vaguely spooked by the deserted feeling of the Ministry building, she loitered in the hall for a few minutes, trying to settle her rattled nerves by walking them out, as well as putting off the moment she'd have to actually enter the meeting.
A couple other Aurors, Blake and Cheevly, scurried past her with murmured good mornings, and she tried to answer them with her usual cheek. But her words fell flat, and late; the door was already closing at their heels, and she returned to her pacing. But after several more minutes passed with no improvement she gave up, and with one last, rueful swipe at the miasma surrounding her head, she grasped the door handle and pulled it open.
The hall was full, most of the Aurors seated on wooden chairs which had been set up in rows. A few unfamiliar faces dotted the crowd, causing her brows to furrow, but then she caught sight of Kingsley's familiar bald pate looming above the crowd at the front of the room. A sense of relief washed over her and she made a beeline for him, murmuring apologies to the various people she jostled or crowded as she wove through the chairs and Aurors. He half-turned as she approached, flashing a tight smile her way before returning his attention to the small cluster of aged wizards who were murmuring to one another beside the dais. She recognized several of them from the Wizengamot, and another- a distinguished-looking fellow with a glossy black beard and a thin scar on his cheek- she'd encountered before in the basements of the Ministry, though she'd no idea as to his position. He didn't appear to be taking part in the conversation, but rather watched the milling Aurors in the room with the attentive patience of a sheepdog.
"Bit thick in here," commented Kingsley, as Tonks finally pushed between Haversham and Trilby to reach him, earning her a glare from the younger woman.
Tonks gave a curt nod in agreement, not quite trusting that her voice wouldn't betray her nervousness. Glancing down at her, the tall wizard grunted sourly. "They could have found a larger room, if they were calling in this many Aurors. And who are those blokes, I wonder?"
Following his gaze, Tonks saw several unfamiliar faces in the crowd, most near the walls or doors of the room. Like the black bearded man, their attention was focused on the activity of the room rather than any individual, and a shiver went down her spine as she recognized the marked wariness they shared. These wizards and witches weren't a part of the milling throng of Aurors; they were distinctly separate, ringing the perimeter of the room and a wave of unease swept through Tonks as she wondered why no one else had noticed this.
But it seemed someone had. Across the room, Tonks saw the back of Mad Eye's grizzled head as he too peered about with the look of a caged animal. She could almost sense his tension even over the distance of the room, and her own nerves started a claxon of alarm that threatened to swamp her. But she bit down hard on her lower lip, forcing her eyes from Moody and back to the cluster of men up front who were clearly getting ready to speak.
"Here it comes," muttered Kingsley.
One of the men from the Wizengamot performed the Sonorus charm upon himself and, clearing his throat to bring all eyes forward, began thanking the Auror department for its hard work in these trying time, and its understanding in appearing at such an inconvenient hour. The Aurors who had remained standing, Tonks and Kingsley among them, hurried to find seats and a brief scuffling of boots and chair legs filled the packed room. Several more minutes of formalities followed, but the words slipped past Tonks without really commanding any attention. She could barely hear them for the persistent jangle of paranoia that was making it hard to stay in her seat. Kingsley noticed her agitation, raising a quizzical eyebrow, but she shook her head sharply and forced herself to ignore the mounting queasiness. If she couldn't find the reason for her discomfiting feelings, she was determined she'd at least overcome their hold upon her.
"…and of course that falls to you, the front lines of our defense against He Who Mustn't Be Named," the old wizard was saying. "But thanks to our dedicated Minister of Magic," he indicated Fudge, who tipped his bowler, "we've come up with a remarkable new tool to add to our arsenal of weapons against the Dark wizard. So if you'll all queue up and come forward one by one…"
The Aurors all took their feet once more, and as she stood, Tonks felt sure her head was going to split from the stark fear that was now gripping her. There wasn't any other word for it; the vague emotion that had been troubling her for so long had suddenly crystallized into a terrifying certainty that this room was about to become the most dangerous place she could imagine. For a moment she had the clear vision of herself fighting her way through her comrades, blasting open the doors and fleeing, but the line was shuffling forward slowly, and to her horror she was almost at the head of it.
"Merlin, no…" she whispered, not knowing why, as Kingsley stepped forward to face an unfamiliar witch with a steely expression. And as the witch raised her wand, the chaos from her mind spilled over into the room with a roar, nightmare fantasy and reality commingling until the only thing she could hear was the shouting, and her own unnaturally loud heartbeats.
