Chapter 1
Edmund Fawley studied his watch impatiently for what felt like the umpteenth time as the ministry elevator he was inside began to shift. Only two weeks into this entry level position and Shacklebolt was already ordering him to complete grunt work. Fawley had signed on for accounting and records keeping, not to be the runaround. The brunette man grumbled to himself as the ministry elevator came to a stop on the basement level.
“‘We’d love to have you in records, Mr. Fawley.’” Edmund gave his best Shacklebolt impression and took the first few steps off the elevator into the pitch black basement, his continuous griping falling on deaf ears. “In records my arse, just wait until my 90 day evaluation. I’ll tell the ministry how the minister treats his new hires.”
After taking what Edmund thought was not at all enough time for his grievances and much to his inconvenience, he drew his wand to shine a light in the dark space, since the ministry was apparently too cheap to provide any. Indeed, he knew all too well where the ministry funds were going–paying that new research department swot, Hermione Granger. He would have some words for her if given the chance. A witch running the research department? Absolute nonsense.
“Lumos.”
The tip of his cherry wood wand illuminated the small space around him as he inched his way towards the area he’d been tasked with inspecting. Something messing with ministry power reserves, Shacklebolt had said.
A high pitched electrical buzzing materialized from his far left. Edmund twisted his head towards the sound, his wand following suit to brighten the space from where the buzzing emitted; a faint glowing light keying him in to let him know he was on the right track.
Edmund distractedly whispered, “Nox”, his attention now zeroed into the faint light that had begun to grow larger with each passing second. He lifted his wand arm to his forehead, eyes squinted, an attempt to shield the blinding light that he now stood before.
“Bloody hell.” As Edmund’s eyes adjusted, he blinked fervently and dodged his head to see the artifact looking back at him. He’d heard of this wooden thing before in the daily prophet a few years back, around the same time Albus Dumbledore had died. Rest his soul.
A vanishing cabinet, Edmund believed it had been called, with deep, ebony wood and ornate patterns of twisting vines and serpents stared back at him. As he took a step closer his eyes trailed to hinges that allowed the contraption to open what he had concluded was a door.
For a moment, Edmund sensed the tiniest shred of fear. Something in the deepest parts of his chest and stomach pleaded with him to turn and run, but he couldn’t. Silvery tendrils of magic swirled from the open cabinet door, drawing him inside, much like a moth to a flame. He could have sworn the cabinet itself was whispering to him.
“Come forward.”
His wand fell from his hand, evident only by the clattering sound it made as the wood connected with the floor. Edmund obeyed the command of the cabinet and stepped towards it with his now empty, outstretched hand.
“Come, Edmund. Let us show you the wonders. Let you prove yourself worthy.”
Without a moment’s notice, the magical tendrils that had so swiftly drawn Edmund in, swallowed him whole. The cabinet door slammed shut and the basement was left in darkness once again.