Post by River Mal'Ghanis on Aug 3, 2011 21:14:47 GMT -5
Enter a scene of an office in Muggle New York City. It's dark and overcast outside. People flow back and forth outside the window. In the lobby outside, two economically marginalized women are patiently waiting for care, while a relatively well-off supervisor tells them that they will be seen shortly. Inside the office, a woman in a business suit sits and waits patiently for a client. She's been waiting for two weeks, and a growing feeling has sunk in, a feeling that she is no longer needed here. After three years, it seems, her social work has paid off, and this area of the city no longer needs her. Excellent. Except, there's a problem--in the magical community of London, a recent case occurred where an economically marginalized witch went to jail when she could have easily been saved from Azkaban. The emerald eyes of the woman shifted to black as she thought about this. Her qualifications were useless here, as useless as she herself was becoming. She stood up with a start. It was time.
She stormed out of the office, into that of her supervisor. "I have news. You no longer need me here," she said. Her supervisor nodded.
"I know, we haven't for weeks now. Do you have a plan?" she asked. The black-eyed woman nodded.
"I'm going to London." There was a certain graveness to her voice--a serious tone she rarely took, unless her righteous fury was called for. Her supervisor nodded understandingly--fidgeting with the wand on her desk, the second in the building including the one in the black-eyed woman's pocket. Suddenly, the black-eyed woman vanished. An acceptance letter to a law firm in Magical London was the only trace of her left.
~~~~~~~
The scene is now a sunny day in London. Families are having picnics, individuals are walking around, consumed in their own personal needs. Nobody bats an eyelash at the skirtsuit-clad woman's sudden appearance in the middle of it all. Her heels click on the ground as she begins to walk. Her body language is confident--everything about her seems determined except, obviously, her destination. She's wandering aimlessly, and it shows.
Her brains churn, trying to remember the layout of the town. It occurs to her that she hasn't really been back in London since the end of the dark war. Frustrating, that the dark arts she had used for light purposes were now even harder to access, but the trip to that particular part of town would wait.
Oh well, better look the part, she thought to herself, as she pulled a cloak from her bag, wrinkle-free, and placed it across her shoulders. She didn't quite notice, however, that at least one person saw fit to approach her.
She stormed out of the office, into that of her supervisor. "I have news. You no longer need me here," she said. Her supervisor nodded.
"I know, we haven't for weeks now. Do you have a plan?" she asked. The black-eyed woman nodded.
"I'm going to London." There was a certain graveness to her voice--a serious tone she rarely took, unless her righteous fury was called for. Her supervisor nodded understandingly--fidgeting with the wand on her desk, the second in the building including the one in the black-eyed woman's pocket. Suddenly, the black-eyed woman vanished. An acceptance letter to a law firm in Magical London was the only trace of her left.
~~~~~~~
The scene is now a sunny day in London. Families are having picnics, individuals are walking around, consumed in their own personal needs. Nobody bats an eyelash at the skirtsuit-clad woman's sudden appearance in the middle of it all. Her heels click on the ground as she begins to walk. Her body language is confident--everything about her seems determined except, obviously, her destination. She's wandering aimlessly, and it shows.
Her brains churn, trying to remember the layout of the town. It occurs to her that she hasn't really been back in London since the end of the dark war. Frustrating, that the dark arts she had used for light purposes were now even harder to access, but the trip to that particular part of town would wait.
Oh well, better look the part, she thought to herself, as she pulled a cloak from her bag, wrinkle-free, and placed it across her shoulders. She didn't quite notice, however, that at least one person saw fit to approach her.