Harry Potter: The Golden Viper

0622 Mr. Assistant

"A toilet?"

For a moment, Percy stood there dazed, his mind not quite processing what Bryan said. Then, as he realized, his already gaunt cheeks flushed an even deeper shade of crimson.

"Oh, well, that must be just one of Cadwell's little pranks," Percy stammered, referring to a colleague from the branch office known for his mischievous sense of humor. "You see, Professor Watson--I mean, Mr. Watson, sir--"

As he spoke, Percy smoothed the creases of his suit jacket with fidgety hands, his nervousness evident in the way his chest heaved, despite him being a good half a head taller than the man he was addressing - the renowned Bryan Watson.

"It's like this, Mr. Watson," Percy tried again, his voice trembling slightly. "I've already received--"

"Percy--"

But before he could finish, Bryan interjected with a kind smile. "Don't you think it might be more comfortable if we were to have a seat and discuss matters properly?"

"Oh! Yes, of course!" Percy exclaimed, punctuating his words with a couple of fierce coughs, the result of having choked on his own breath in his haste to agree. He quickly escorted Bryan to the sofa and tea table situated on the other side of the office.

No sooner had Bryan begun to lower himself onto the cushioned seat than Percy plopped himself down with an audible thud, his hopeful gaze fixed intently on his face, as if silently willing him to speak first.

Bryan suppressed the urge to sigh, having already resigned himself to the fact that Percy was unlikely to offer him any drinks.

"As I was saying, I've already received--" Percy began impatiently the instant Bryan was seated, eager to regain control of the conversation. But once again, Bryan gently interrupted.

"So, tell me, Percy, how have you been doing these days?"

Bryan could see that Percy was trying hard to take control of the conversation in front of him. Unfortunately, even if it were Dumbledore or Fudge who wanted to do this, it would be almost impossible, let alone with Percy's "level", it would be even more impossible. 

"Oh--"

The flush on Percy's face had already spread to the tips of his ears. He undoubtedly wanted to speak to Bryan on an equal footing, but every time he tried to focus his gaze on Watson's eyes, the gentle-smiling Professor Watson seemed to have a special magic that always deflected his gaze elsewhere. Unconsciously, Percy's head had already lowered.

"Well, as you can see, I am now serving as Mr. Barty Crouch's personal assistant!" Percy said, a note of pride creeping into his voice at the mention of his boss. He clenched his fists so tightly that they trembled where they rested upon his knees. "Mr. Crouch has considered me trustworthy enough to handle some of his daily affairs while he is away on sick leave."

"Is that so?" Bryan commented, his eyebrows raised in polite interest. He glanced meaningfully at the paper airplanes whizzing overhead. "It would appear that you've certainly gotten the hang of things around here."

With that single observation, Bryan effectively demolished the flimsy mental defenses Percy had only just managed to erect. Though he valiantly tried to maintain an air of authority, when he next spoke, his voice emerged as little more than a feeble mutter.

"Things wouldn't normally be in such a state of chaos, Professor Watson, I assure you. It's just that, last night, I was standing in for Mr. Crouch at a meeting to discuss Madam Bones' proposal to expand the Auror ranks."

Percy paused to draw a shaky breath before continuing. "The discussion carried on until dawn - between Madam Bones and Madam Umbridge, that is. Madam Umbridge has been the most insistently opposed to this, you see. She's of the opinion that, given our current budgetary constraints and the relative stability of the wizarding world at present, it would be an unnecessary drain on the Ministry's resources to invest so heavily in training additional Aurors. Minister Fudge has thus far been rather reluctant to voice his own stance on the matter, which is why the debate raged on for so long. In my opinion, I found Madam Umbridge's arguments rather more convincing, but of course, no one sought my--oh!"

Percy said suddenly, his eyes widening as he realized that he had been rambling. He looked up to find Professor Watson leaning back against the sofa, listening to his incoherent mutterings with every appearance of rapt attention. Percy's breath came fast and shallow as he fought to collect himself.

"But enough about all that," he said abruptly, cringing inwardly at the stiffness of the tone. "Let us turn our attention to the matter that brings you here today, Mr. Watson. You said you want to visit Mr. Crouch and have some matters to discuss with him, right? What exactly is it?" 

The change of topic by Percy was very stiff, and his tone also sounded a bit rude. However, Bryan didn't mind. He gave a slight nod.

"Indeed, Percy. The Ministry's negligence on some matters has made me very dissatisfied--"

Bryan's brows and eyes slightly sank. His tone, which suddenly turned solemn, almost made Percy jump up unconsciously.

"Which is precisely why I was hoping to have a word with Barty about it all. However, I was informed that he is currently on leave due to illness, and that some of the responsibilities of the Department of International Magical Cooperation have consequently fallen to you in the short-term.@@novelbin@@

Now, I don't wish to alarm you, Percy - I am well aware that this is a rather thankless task to have thrust upon you. If possible, I would much prefer to discuss the matter with Barty in person. Moreover, given that he and I are old friends, it would be quite unreasonable of me not to pay him a visit now that I know he is unwell. So, could you please a message to him on my behalf?"

Percy had already nodded in acquiescence without thinking, but then he caught himself, realizing that this would run counter to his aim of persuading Mr. Watson to explain him directly of the information he wished to tell to Mr. Crouch, so that he, Percy, could handle the situation with the full confidence of his superiors. Before he could formulate a suitably diplomatic response, however, there came an abrupt knock at the office door.

"Forgive me, I shall return momentarily," Percy mumbled, his temples glistening with a sheen of sweat as he heaved a sigh of mingled relief and irritation. He leaped to his feet and hurried to answer the door, completely forgetting in his haste that he could have simply called out for the visitor to enter.

Stifling another sigh, Bryan settled himself more comfortably on the sofa to wait patiently.

"Ah, Goldstein, it's you?"

As he cracked open the door and caught sight of the man standing on the other side, a flash of annoyance passed across Percy's face. His commanding tone stood in stark contrast to the tone manner he had used with Watson, and he seemed not to even register the rudeness of leaving a guest standing out in the hallway, his body was angled in such a way as to block the entrance to the office.

"Good day, Weasley. I trust I haven't caught you at an inconvenient time," the man replied, a hint of irony creeping into his polite words filled with helplessness as he tried to peer around Percy into the room inside. "I was rather hoping we might discuss that matter we spoke of earlier--"

Goldstein from the Ministry's office of International Magical Law, craned his neck in an effort to catch a glimpse of Barty Crouch. Upon ascertaining that the man was not, in fact, at his desk, he let out a faint sigh before returning his attention to the upstart rookie who, despite having only joined the Ministry this very year, had somehow managed to secure a post as Crouch's assistant.

"That matter?" Percy echoed, frowning.

Seeing that Weasley had no intention of inviting him in, Goldstein leaned his head in and lowered his voice as he said, "Flying carpets."

"Ah, yes, that," Percy said dismissively, not troubling to conceal his exasperation. "As I've already explained, Goldstein, the matter is not open for negotiation. Ali Bashir was caught in the act of attempting to smuggle flying carpets into the country. He will have to pay the prescribed fine and serve out the statutory prison sentence - there can be no exceptions made for breaking the law!"

"The law, is it?" Goldstein didn't seem surprised to receive this reply; struggling to keep his rising ire in check he said. "Surely you haven't forgotten that the bill outlawing the sale of flying carpets doesn't come into effect for another twenty days yet! Strictly speaking, then, Mr. Bashir has not, in point of fact, violated any existing laws. Now, if you're set on making an example of him, by all means, impose a fine - any sum you deem appropriate - but this business of sending him to Azkaban is, I contend, still debatable!"

"You're exploiting a loophole, Goldstein!" Percy retorted angrily. "Mr. Crouch was already in the process of dealing with this matter before taking the sick leave - he specifically warned Bashir to stop, and yet the man persisted in his illicit activities. The blame for his current predicament rests on his own shoulders!"

"I rather suspect there are certain relevant details of which Mr. Crouch may not have been fully aware of," Goldstein ground out between clenched teeth, "which would go some way toward explaining his excessively harsh stance on the matter. The fact of the matter is, Bashir--" He cut himself off abruptly, shaking his head. "Look here, I really must speak with Mr. Crouch in person to clear up this misunderstanding!"

"And I've told you time and again, Goldstein, that Mr. Crouch is in need of rest!" Percy fairly seethed with righteous indignation. "Surely even you must realize how many long years he has worked in service to the Ministry! He has entrusted me with the task of maintaining order in his stead, and I will not see his faith in me proved misplaced!"

Percy seemed to feel that Goldstein was questioning his ability. He drew himself up to his full height (which was, admittedly, still not all that considerable) and glared at Goldstein. "My word on this is final - Bashir will go to Azkaban, and that is the end of it! Perhaps a stint in prison will give him ample opportunity to reflect on the foolishness of his actions!"

*Sigh*.

From his vantage point on the sofa, Bryan took in the scene unfolding before him and released a soundless sigh. Having heard more than enough, he rose and stepped up behind Percy.

"Merlin's beard!" When Bryan appeared behind Percy, Goldstein, who was so angry he wanted to draw his wand, suddenly fell silent. He exclaimed, anger giving way to astonishment as he caught sight of the distinguished, gray-haired gentleman standing behind Weasley. "You are...you are - oh, I didn't expect you to be here, Mr. Watson!"

The raw indignation seemed to melt away from the face of the portly, middle-aged wizard, only to be replaced by a mixture of delighted surprise and embarrassment at having been overheard venting his grievances in front of Bryan Watson.

Bryan placed a hand on Percy's shoulder, rendering Percy speechless. He smiled at Goldstein,

"Indeed, it is, Goldstein - and please, don't feel the need to apologize for not noticing my presence sooner. I can't say I'm particularly pleased of having inadvertently eavesdropped on what was clearly meant to be a private conversation, but I'm afraid your heated discussion rather carried through the door..."

Bryan shrugged.

"Oh, goodness no, Mr. Watson, sir - the fault is entirely mine for barging in unannounced! I had no idea you were here on business with Weasley. Please forgive my dreadful manners in interrupting you!"

Goldstein babbled, tripping over himself to make amends now that he was face-to-face with such a legendary wizard. "I should be on my way - perhaps we can continue this discussion another time!"

"I don't think we need to wait until next time--"

Bryan raised his chin, his smile gentle.

"I just heard you want to have a word with Mr. Crouch. Oh, coincidentally, I'm also planning to visit him. Perhaps I can pass a message for you. This Mr. Ali Bashir was smuggling flying carpets, right? Oh, then before the latest law came out, he must have had the relevant permit?"

"You're absolutely right, Mr. Watson--" Goldstein immediately understood Bryan's hint. He said in a low voice,

"Madam Umbridge had approved documents for him. The Oswald family has always been responsible for flying carpet sales."

Bryan gave a slight nod.

"I'll explain the situation to Barty, Goldstein. Would you allow me to spend some more time alone with Mr. Crouch's assistant?"

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