The Thunderbird
written by Lizzie Scamander
One girl, one wish. To help an innocent animal survive the cruel Ministry's confirmation to kill it. Will she meet with failure... Or success?
Last Updated
05/31/21
Chapters
5
Reads
919
Lost
Chapter 2
Apprehensive concern now replaced my rage, as I exited the courtroom. I was faced with sceptical expressions from the people bustling past me, and conversation was scarce. I moved hastily, roughly shoving my papers into my bag along with my bottle of ink and quill. These physical motions were absent, yet I was jerked into focus as I was unceremoniously nipped on the finger. As I withdrew my hand I observed the ball of pink fluff perched on my hand, and smiled ruefully as a long tongue emerged and a pair of big, black eyes analysed me.
"I'm sorry, Buddy," I apologised. "That court was a bit long for you, wasn't it?" I sighed as my thoughts returned to the court, yet the affectionate weight of Buddy in my hand comforted me tacitly, and I accepted the indirect reassurance gratefully. "Good boy, let's go home," I decided. I had previously considered raising an argumentative and resolute protestation with Mr. Blackwood but now it really seemed confirmed that everything was hopeless. Yet as the elevator descended the practical voice came on, announcing the level I was on.
"Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures."
I heard a shriek, the piercing call of a desperate Thunderbird, and sorrow welled up inside me. But determination stirred too, and I bit my lip as I contemplated the sound. Then the elevator was going down again, and I exhaled sharply. No, I would not let that Thunderbird die, whatever the cost. I simply couldn't. He was an innocent creature - yet again I thought bitterly of Mr. Blackwood's lack of commiseration, and what cruelty he had possessed. Then I heard "Atrium" and as the elevator doors opened I stepped out. I headed straight toward the fire places and, taking a pinch of Floo Powder, I threw it into the flames, stepped in and said clearly, "The Leaky Cauldron."
The next thing I knew I was hurtling through a chimney, catching glimpses of various rooms and having my elbows uncomfortably grazed by the bricks. Then I felt my feet hit solid ground, and, swaying slightly, I straightened and brushed the soot from my clothes. I stood in the shabby yet homely inn and Tom came bustling over. He observed the tiresome expression on my face and understood. "A hard day at the Ministry, miss?" He inquired politely. "Come, have some tea -"
"No thank you, Tom," I said wearily. "I'm going straight up to my room."
"Oh, very well then," Tom said, nodding with empathy.
I smiled weakly and ascended the stairs, and pushed open the door, room eight. My bed stood invitingly in the corner yet I ignored it and slipped into the chair of my desk, dumping my bag on the floor as I did so. My Crup Patch hastened up as I entered, his forked tail wagging vigorously as he licked my hands. Charlotte, my cat, meowed sleepily from her position on my pillow and yawned.
I grinned appreciatively at all these greetings and followed Charlotte's example by yawning widely. Then, reluctantly, I pulled out my hard-worked-at papers and stared at them a moment. Then I threw them into the merrily crackling fire that housed dancing flames, and watched them curl and burn.
Then they were gone, now only a mere pile of ash.
