Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix

[Special mention and great thanks go to David Robin, who provided the pun. The story is mine; the characters all belong to JKR (she-who-must-be-revered).]

Harry was annoyed. Since the fall of Voldemort and the round-up of the Death Eaters, he and his fellow Aurors had just been given mostly busy work: Drunk and Diswizardlies, Flying Under the Influence's, Bait and Bewitches, and various other economic crimes and petty offenses. What a bring-down for a man who had faced and conquered such great darkness! It was demoralizing, not to mention boring.

Harry was taking his lunch break at the Griffon and Unicorn when his Cell-Fire beeped. He put down his pumpkin doughnut and opened the communicator, setting it on the table. A small fire appeared in the grate, and a tiny head popped out of the fire.

"Potter here; what is it, Chief?" said Harry through a mouthful of crumbs.

"Potter," said the miniature fiery head of Chief Inspector Brusque, I think we've got a break on the 419: the massive disappearances of magical animals. I need you to apparate to the Brackish Brothers Warehouse in the Docksides. You'll be meeting agent Aurelius Swift at 1330 hours at the disused back entrance. And stay invisible, man! This also means using some no-odor spells; if there are magical animals there, I don't want them smelling you and giving away your position."

"Right, I'll be there; about 15 minutes, Chief?" said Harry, glancing at his watch, and lighting a cigarette from the top of the tiny bald head.

"Potter," the tiny man fumed, "how many times have I told you that isn't funny?"

"Only three times this week, Chief; but I guess this makes it four!"

"Bleeding celebrity cops," muttered the Chief. "Brusque out."

Harry took a few more minutes to finish his Manticore-on-a-Stick™ and his nice cuppa tea. This also gave his Cell-fire time to cool down before going back in his pocket. Then he headed for the little wizard's room for a brief relief, a wash up, and a few masking and odorless spells. He reached into his robe pocket and pulled out his old invisibility cloak, covered himself in it, and disapparated with a Pop!

A split-second later, Harry was apparating, albeit invisibly, across the street from the warehouse. He spied a fluffy little white maltese dog sniffing at the grass growing out of cracks in the pavement alongside. Harry tiptoed over; the little dog could hear him approach, but seemed puzzled that it couldn't smell him, and cocked its head to the side quizzically.

[A.N. for views of the maltese, see http://www.malteseworld.com/ .]

Harry bent over and whispered to the little Animagus, "I'll never quite get over the 'Bustingest Bobby in Bristol' looking like that!" The little dog opened its mouth into a grin and winked. "Ready?" asked Harry.

"Yip!" replied Swift softly.

"Once we've located the contraband, and have a handle on the evidence, I'll need you to lead the culprits on a diversion. Listen for a single note of phoenix-song, then run. When you have them in the northeast corner and you're ready, call for me."

"Rrrigh'!"

Harry smiled. "Okay, let's go." They crept up to the back entrance and Harry raised his wand, poking it out of the side of the invisibility cloak. "Alohomora," he whispered, and the locks clicked open. He pushed gently, but the door resisted. "Disjungo," he muttered, and the crossbar inside floated off the door latches. "Silencio," he aimed at the hinges. "Umbra," he said, to keep the opening door in shadow. Then he pushed lightly again, and the door creaked open quietly. Harry only opened it wide enough for him and the little dog to sneak in, and then he quickly closed it.

Once inside, the dog trotted off waving its tail high in the air like a fan. Harry let his eyes adjust to the dark - but there was no mistaking the smell and the noise. Following his ears and nose, he was led straight to a large stack of cages. There were dozens of phoenixes - reds, golds, and even a few rare silvers. Only one was singing melodiously; but several were squawking quite outrageously. Harry reckoned that there hadn't been that many phoenixes held in captivity together since the days of the pharaohs, and he wanted to know why.

Tiptoeing in the direction the little dog had run, he heard two male voices. The phoenixes all went quiet. An older man was lecturing a younger, and as he rounded a corner they came into view.

"You mark me, lad, hevery blinkin' week dese birds is kep' off da market, da price goes up ten per cent! Your favver 'as a business 'ead, 'e 'as!"

"Yeh," said the younger, pimplier man, "bu' wifout Dumbledore's phoenix, you can' rightly say dat you've go' hevery one in Bri'ain, can you?"

The older man looked scandalized. "'Enry, if You-know-'oo was scared of hold Dumbledore, Hi'd be daft ta mess wiv'im! We've made orf wif all, minus one. So we'll 'ave ta se''le for 99% of rich. Nuffink wrong widdat."

Just then, a phoenix sang, and the little maltese yapped at the two men. Their eyes bugged out as they jumped out of their chairs. "'Ere! Where'd you come from, then?" yelled young Henry. The dog scampered off to the far corner of the warehouse, away from the doors, chased angrily by the two men. Silently, Harry cast an anti-apparation field around the corner; there'd be no sudden escapes.

The men had got the little dog in the corner, and were wearing big, murderous grins. The little dog barked in a little, high voice, and the two men chuckled. Then from behind they heard, "Halt, in the name of the Ministry of Magic!" and their blood ran cold. Turning around, they saw a black-haired man holding up a wand and removing an invisibility cloak.

"Better do what he says," said another voice in front of them. Turning back around with their eyes popping and their hair standing up, they saw a small man with another upraised wand, a big smile, narrowed eyes, and white-blond hair and beard. "He's Potter."

"And he's Swift," Harry grinned back.

"Bloody 'ell, it's Po''er and Swif'!" yelped Henry.

"Time ta you-know-what ta you-know-where!" said his dad out the side of his mouth. The two men spread their feet, closed their eyes and grimaced, and - nothing happened.

"Exarmantur," said Harry, off-handedly, and the two men's wands whipped from their pockets into his hands. No need to knock them down with an expelliarmus spell; these men seemed shady but not dangerous. "Sorry, chaps, anti-apparation field; you're not going anywhere; not without us, anyway. Horace and Henry Brackish, you're under arrest for stealing and hoarding magical creatures with the intent to defraud the animal-fancying wizarding public. I warn you that anything you say may be taken down."

"Now, now, gennelmen," said Horace, sweating. "We was on'y watchin' dese birds for my bruvver, Herwin! 'E's da real brains of da houtfit; 'e's da real 'oarder of da Phoenix'!"

Swift barked out a high-pitched laugh. "I suppose the jury will decide who the real hoarder is. Erwin is being arrested right now, by another team." Horace sagged visibly.

"Come now," said Harry, "do co-operate, there's a good fellow."

"Well hennyways, 'Enry," mumbled Horace, putting his wrists together to be magically bound, "hat least you can tell yer kids dat you was tyken in by 'Arry Bleedin' Po''er!"

"Shu'up, Dad," Henry mumbled back.

Swift lowered his wand, and winked at Harry. "Go on, Harry. As long as we're waiting for backup - go on. You know you want to."

"Oh, all right," Harry smirked.

He stood stiffly, rocking back and forth from one leg to the other, nose in the air, one eyebrow arched, and started twirling his wand like a baton. In a gruff voice, Harry said: "'Ere-'ere-'ere! What's all this, then?" It was the classic caricature of "A Bobby trying to act intimidating."

In spite of themselves, the Brackishes giggled - and then roared with laughter. They had never had such a good time getting arrested.

End

[Due deference and gratitude go once more to David Robin, whose pun was clever and warranted a fuller ficlet.]