"Hello, Young Master. My name is Aldrich Brown." The man's voice was as crisp and precise as his appearance. He gave a short, perfect bow. "From this moment on, I will be serving as your personal butler. And this is Mr. Jensen Milne, your personal attendant. If you have any needs or commands, please do not hesitate to direct us."
Aldrich was the very picture of meticulous professionalism. His dark hair was impeccably groomed, slicked back in a way that could rival a Malfoy's. His robes were a pristine, wrinkle-free black, and his every movement was measured and deliberate, a testament to his training.
In contrast, Jensen Milne stood a half-step behind him, his posture rigid and his expression carefully blank, though a subtle tension in his jaw betrayed his unease. He did not seem particularly thrilled with his new assignment.
Sean's gaze flickered between the two of them. He gave a slight, acknowledging nod, choosing to ignore Jensen's transparent reluctance and treat him as little more than a stranger. His attention settled back on the butler. "Aldrich. What is our route to Beauxbatons?"
"To reach Beauxbatons, we must first go through the Ministry of Magic, Young Master. If you would, please follow me."
Sean glanced at their empty hands. "My luggage has been sorted?"
"Rest assured, Young Master," Aldrich replied smoothly. "I am carrying an item enchanted with an Undetectable Extension Charm. All of your belongings have been safely stowed within."
"Very well. Let's go."
"As you command, Young Master."
The iconic red telephone booth stood like an anachronism on the dilapidated London street. Sean took a moment to survey their surroundings. The buildings were worn and grimy, the sparse foot traffic consisting of hunched figures hurrying past. The only sign of life was a pub that remained dark and shuttered during the day. The nearby walls were a chaotic canvas of overlapping graffiti, a messy fusion of styles that rendered the art illegible. Just around the corner, tantalisingly close, the sounds of a bustling, modern street hummed with life—a world away from this pocket of neglect.
Aldrich moved first, pulling open the heavy door of the telephone booth and stepping inside. "Young Master, Mr. Milne, if you please. The space is a bit confined, I'm afraid. My apologies for the momentary discomfort."
Sean nodded and followed him in, with Jensen entering last. It was a tight fit. Thankfully, Sean and Jensen were not yet fully grown, and Aldrich possessed a tall, slender frame. Any larger, and the three of them would have been uncomfortably pressed together.
Jensen shut the door, casting the interior in a dim, reddish light, and stood silently to the side. Aldrich gave the younger attendant a brief nod before lifting the old-fashioned receiver and dialling the numbers 6-2-4-4-2 on the rotary keypad. After a moment's pause, a disembodied female voice, chillingly calm, echoed not from the receiver but from the very air within the booth.
"Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and purpose of your visit."
Aldrich spoke clearly. "Sean Bulstrode, Aldrich Brown, and Jensen Milne, here to arrange our Portkey departure."
"Thank you. Visitors, please take your badges and affix them to the front of your robes."
As the voice fell silent, a metallic clatter echoed from the coin return slot. Aldrich reached in and retrieved three square, silver badges. Each was neatly engraved with one of their names and, beneath it, the purpose of their visit: Portkey Departure.
Once they had all pinned the badges to their robes, the cool, female voice returned.
"Visitors to the Ministry, you are required to submit to a security search and register your wands at the security desk at the end of the Atrium. Welcome to the Ministry of Magic."
This time, as her words concluded, the entire telephone booth lurched and began to descend. The world outside the glass panes dissolved into darkness as the booth sank smoothly into the ground, a low groan of protesting metal filling the silence. The journey downward lasted for what felt like a full minute before light flooded the booth once more, revealing a hall of breathtaking grandeur.
The Atrium was vast. A magnificent, peacock-blue ceiling stretched high above, adorned with shimmering golden symbols that constantly shifted and reformed like a celestial tapestry. The floor was made of dark, polished wood, so immaculate it reflected the magical ceiling like a black mirror. Along both walls, dozens of ornate fireplaces were set, with witches and wizards appearing and disappearing in roaring torrents of emerald green flame.
"Young Master," Aldrich explained in a low voice, "the individuals using the fireplaces are Ministry staff utilising the Floo Network—their internal thoroughfare. As we are visitors, we must use the designated visitor's entrance. A bit more ceremony involved, I'm afraid."
While he spoke, Aldrich expertly guided Sean and Jensen through the throng of people, past the grand Fountain of Magical Brethren, and toward the security checkpoint at the far end of the hall.
The process of security screening and wand registration was surprisingly swift. The moment the staff member on duty read Sean's surname on his badge, his entire demeanor shifted. His posture straightened, and his professional indifference melted into a more accommodating and efficient manner.
Noticing the change, Aldrich leaned in and murmured to Sean, "The Bulstrode family contributes a significant endowment to the Ministry each year, Young Master. However, unlike the Malfoys, the family does not seek public recognition for its patronage. As a result, the general wizarding populace knows little of the Bulstrode name. But within these walls, information travels quickly. The staff here is well aware of the family's influence."
Sean absorbed the information with a slight nod, saying nothing.
Once they were cleared, Aldrich led them deeper into the Ministry, moving from the Atrium on Level Eight to an adjacent hall filled with twenty elevators, each fronted by ornate golden grilles. They entered a less crowded lift, which carried them up to Level Six, home of the Department of Magical Transportation. Their final destination was the Portkey Office, located in the center of the floor.
"Mr. Basil, good day," Aldrich said, approaching a desk. "We are here to finalize a departure."
Basil, a middle-aged wizard with a receding hairline and a weary, business-as-usual air, looked up. His expression remained professionally detached until Aldrich placed their certification documents on his desk. Basil's eyes scanned the parchment, his gaze snagging on the prominent Bulstrode family crest.
Instantly, the man's weariness vanished, replaced by a bright, eager-to-please smile. "Oh! From the Bulstrode family! Of course, of course. Let me see how I can be of assistance." He scanned the document quickly. "Ah, I see. A simple matter indeed! I will contact the French Ministry immediately. If you would just wait at the Portkey terminus point for a few moments, the connection will be established, and you'll be on your way."
Basil cheerfully handed the documents back and personally escorted them from his office, his beaming smile still fixed on them as they walked away.
Sean glanced back at the fawning official and couldn't help a wry, internal sigh. So this is the power of a name. It was a universal truth, it seemed, that privilege greased the wheels of any world, magical or otherwise.
As they walked toward the designated waiting area, Aldrich paused. "Ah, one final matter, Young Master. I nearly forgot." He retrieved a crisp, official-looking parchment from within his robes. "The Master had this arranged for our trip. It is a special permit from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."
He presented it to Sean with a hint of gravity. "With this, as long as you refrain from the use of excessively Dark magic or, of course, the Unforgivable Curses, you are permitted to use magic freely throughout the holiday."
***********
✨ 300 gems = 1 bonus chapter
✨ 500 gems = another bonus chapter
Get access to advanced chapters at my P@treon.
[email protected]/meowthtl