DON'T MAKE A SOUND -- rurik

[MARLENE ELINOR MCKINNON]

She stepped into the old, decrepit-looking telephone booth and lifted the phone off the hook. In Marlene'sopinion, it was absolutely ridiculous that The Daily Prophet employees were required to use the visitor's entrance to get into the Ministry of Magic. For god's sake, the Ministry needed the media; they should get free passes to use the magical entrance that the Ministry workers used. Marley obviously felt a certain sense of entitlement, being a photographer for the newspaper. But to her indignance, the Ministry apparently did not share her views. Such is life. With a flourish, Marlene dialed the numbers 6-2-4-4-2 into the phone and listened for the smooth female voice asking her to state her name and business. "Marlene McKinnon. I'm a photographer for the Daily Prophet," she said with authority, and deftly grabbed the small silver badge that dispensed, reading M. McKinnon, Photographer. Then, with a slightly disturbing shudder, the phone booth began to slide down below the street level like an elevator, which is exactly what it was; a magical elevator that would take her to the heart of the Ministry of Magic.

The telephone booth eventually rattled to a halt, allowing Marlene to step out into the long, splendid hall with dark, polished wood floors that was called the Atrium. It was the grand entrance and central hall of the Ministry, and as usual it was bustling with people coming and going about their business. Traffic was a bit of a problem. Merely seconds after she stepped out of the phone booth, Marlene received a sputtering cough to the face from a bumbling wizard who had just stepped out of a blazing green fireplace. Clearly he was not accustomed to traveling by Floo Powder, or he was just one of those perpetually clumsy types. "Thanks," muttered Marley, a little annoyed as she wiped some ash off her face. She continued on through the swarm of people, heading to the far end of the Atrium where she had to submit her wand for registration at the security desk. Of course, she was at the Ministry so often that they hardly scanned her wand anymore. "Marley," acknowledged the withered old wizard behind the desk with a nod. She was at the Ministry nearly as often as she was at the Daily Prophet headquarters, hence the reason she was known by most of the security officials by her first name. After all, the Ministry of Magic was always big news, whether it was for something important or just gossip, and the people loved seeing pictures of their Minister and the others who helped maintain the peace between the wizarding world and the non-magical world.

Her wand was handed back to her and Marlene proceeded to toward the throng of people surrounding the elevators. She managed to squeeze into a crowded elevator, and headed to the back, since she wouldn't be getting off on any of the earlier floors. Today Marley was headed to the a courtroom on Level 10 to photograph some trial... She wasn't even sure what it involved. Someone blowing up a Muggle's garbage can, or something of the like. It really wasn't that important to be photographed, but it had been a slow day at the office and Marlene had felt that she needed to go out and do something. Marley tapped her foot impatiently as the elevator stopped at every single floor. She blew a strand of wavy brown hair out of her eyes. She always got irritable when crammed in with so many people in a small place. She would be getting off at Level 9, the Department of Mysteries, since it was the last floor that the lift went to. Once there, she would have to go up a small flight of steps leading to Level 10 and the courtrooms.

After Level 8, Marlene was the only person in the elevator, and she gratefully massaged her left foot where a balding, overweight wizard had been standing on it since Level 2. She stepped out into the plain, bare hallway of Level 9. Biting her lip, Marlene's eyes were glued to the plain black door at the very end of the hallway. This place had always intrigued her. I mean, it was called the Department of Mysteries, after all. Slowly, she treaded toward the door. Well, technically she was heading to the small flight of stairs to the left of the door, leading to her destination. But Marley couldn't help but to stop in front of the door. She reached out and tried to turn the handle. As usual, it was locked. Although she shouldn't, Marlene tried that door handle every single time she walked past it. It was always locked, and yes, she know that alohomora didn't work on it. What could she say? She was a curious soul.

With a disappointed sigh, Marley turned around quickly and, to her utter astonishment, ran smack into a tall someone who had been standing behind her. After letting out a rather embarrassing shriek, Marley's hand flew to her heart and she gasped out, "Oh! I'm sorry! I didn't see you there." The first thought that seared across her mind was that she could get into trouble and be suscepted to a complicated investigation if someone were to report her for trying to get into the Department of Mysteries unauthorized. Bloody hell.

TAGGED:: rurik
WORDS:: 926
LYRICS BY:: SEX ON FIRE - KINGS OF LEON
CREDIT TO:: RORA AT HOS

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