Hmm... yesterday's cats and dogs came in a box, perhaps? That doesn't sound good for them!
The box Genius sat down on a couch in the Victory and waited for Bartolomeo Squat. The name didn't ring a bell for him, but the Department had a number of essentially political appointees that changed according to the last election or the prevailing political winds. This might well be one of them. He leaned back, enjoying the softness of the couch cushions and the faint sea-breeze that seemed to drift through the room, and crossed one leg over the other, resting his ankle on his knee. The door of the Victory opened and a tall man bent slightly in order to get through without banging his head. He was wearing a black frock-coat, which startled Genius just a touch, and carrying a silver-topped walking cane and a small cardboard box. When he was in, he closed the door gently and faced Genius, resting his weight on the cane. "Why do you want that Notebook?" he said. He voice was clipped and sounded like it gave orders a lot. "Straight to the point, I see," said Genius sitting up. "It's for a student project." "No." The man adjusted his weight, picked the cane up, and opened the door. "Hermione Mangey is the student." There was a long moment where the door was still opening and Genius was wondering if he'd misjudged the level of interest in these children, and then the door was gently shut again and the man resumed his previous stance. He looked along his nose, an unremarkable protrusion on his face, at Genius as though hoping it might be intimidating. "You clearly know we are expecting things of her," said Squat. "Who has authorised this?" "In not so many words, Lady Jeniver," replied Genius. There was a faint tremble around the room as though the walls themselves had shivered. "That is true," said Squat, sounding slightly surprised. "Though I note that the truthspell seems amused by your choice of words, so I shall have to ask you to elaborate a little so that I do not find myself later bemused by some sophistry."
"Spells can be amused?" Genius stood up and faced Squat face-on, his hands resting on his hips. "Since when?" "If I only knew," said Squat. Just for a moment he sounded like a person who enjoyed the brief moments of his day when he wasn't having to think for others and then instruct them on what to do next. "It might be someone's idea of a joke, in which case, properly documented, we could all laugh. As it is we have a truthspell that seems to have a sense of humour, and since it was put in place when this room was built, unspelling it would be either expensive, destructive, or both. You are avoiding my question though." "Ah," said Genius. "Well, I'm certain that if you asked Lady Jeniver, or pretty much anyone here if we were interfering in the lives of underage wizards in order to avoid certain prophecies from being fulfilled and to make it easier for others to come true, they would all deny it and produce ample paperwork supporting those denials." "Of course." "But if you were to discreetly ask Lady Jeniver at a social moment when there was no chance of you being overheard if I had been assigned to take care of them when they are vulnerable and potential targets, and if she is au fait with all of my actions and getting the kind of reports that cannot be later found, or even proven to have existed, then she might well indicate something that you could take as agreement." "I see." "All this being hypothetical, of course." "Naturally. Very well, Mr. Loci, under those circumstances you may borrow that Notebook. For a period of four weeks, starting now." He took the box to the conference table at the far end of the room and tipped a notebook out of it. "It will automatically return to the library when the loan period is up." "Naturally," said Genius without a trace of sarcasm.
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Hmm... yesterday's cats and dogs came in a box, perhaps? That doesn't sound good for them!
The box
Genius sat down on a couch in the Victory and waited for Bartolomeo Squat. The name didn't ring a bell for him, but the Department had a number of essentially political appointees that changed according to the last election or the prevailing political winds. This might well be one of them. He leaned back, enjoying the softness of the couch cushions and the faint sea-breeze that seemed to drift through the room, and crossed one leg over the other, resting his ankle on his knee.
The door of the Victory opened and a tall man bent slightly in order to get through without banging his head. He was wearing a black frock-coat, which startled Genius just a touch, and carrying a silver-topped walking cane and a small cardboard box. When he was in, he closed the door gently and faced Genius, resting his weight on the cane.
"Why do you want that Notebook?" he said. He voice was clipped and sounded like it gave orders a lot.
"Straight to the point, I see," said Genius sitting up. "It's for a student project."
"No." The man adjusted his weight, picked the cane up, and opened the door.
"Hermione Mangey is the student."
There was a long moment where the door was still opening and Genius was wondering if he'd misjudged the level of interest in these children, and then the door was gently shut again and the man resumed his previous stance. He looked along his nose, an unremarkable protrusion on his face, at Genius as though hoping it might be intimidating.
"You clearly know we are expecting things of her," said Squat. "Who has authorised this?"
"In not so many words, Lady Jeniver," replied Genius. There was a faint tremble around the room as though the walls themselves had shivered.
"That is true," said Squat, sounding slightly surprised. "Though I note that the truthspell seems amused by your choice of words, so I shall have to ask you to elaborate a little so that I do not find myself later bemused by some sophistry."
"Spells can be amused?" Genius stood up and faced Squat face-on, his hands resting on his hips. "Since when?"
"If I only knew," said Squat. Just for a moment he sounded like a person who enjoyed the brief moments of his day when he wasn't having to think for others and then instruct them on what to do next. "It might be someone's idea of a joke, in which case, properly documented, we could all laugh. As it is we have a truthspell that seems to have a sense of humour, and since it was put in place when this room was built, unspelling it would be either expensive, destructive, or both. You are avoiding my question though."
"Ah," said Genius. "Well, I'm certain that if you asked Lady Jeniver, or pretty much anyone here if we were interfering in the lives of underage wizards in order to avoid certain prophecies from being fulfilled and to make it easier for others to come true, they would all deny it and produce ample paperwork supporting those denials."
"Of course."
"But if you were to discreetly ask Lady Jeniver at a social moment when there was no chance of you being overheard if I had been assigned to take care of them when they are vulnerable and potential targets, and if she is au fait with all of my actions and getting the kind of reports that cannot be later found, or even proven to have existed, then she might well indicate something that you could take as agreement."
"I see."
"All this being hypothetical, of course."
"Naturally. Very well, Mr. Loci, under those circumstances you may borrow that Notebook. For a period of four weeks, starting now." He took the box to the conference table at the far end of the room and tipped a notebook out of it. "It will automatically return to the library when the loan period is up."
"Naturally," said Genius without a trace of sarcasm.
Greg - maybe it was a really big box, full of chew toys and bones and catnip and things like that?
Ooh, I like this back and forth. And Genius continues to entertain and intrigue. Very, very much enjoying this tale.
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