Never Trust the Irish

"Zabini," Kevin Whitby said, leaning over the wall of her cubicle. "I need your report on that Ashwinder incident at the Malfoys house."

"Kevin," Blaise groaned. "I've about a million things that need to be finished. An accident report for Lavender Brown's injuries from that crazy jarvey, two suicide gnomes that I've got to send a team out to collect - "

"Can you put that on hold?" came the voice of her boss, Theodore Nott. "I need to speak with you."

Blaise turned to see Theo leaning against the wall of her cubicle, his hair falling rakishly into his eyes. No wonder all the girls in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures were in love with him.

"Theo," Blaise said, giving him a smile. "I could use an interruption."

"Sh!" Theo said, looking around. "It's Mr. Nott at work, Miss Zabini."

"Well, sorry," Blaise said sarcastically. "Did our seven years at school together mean nothing to you?"

"I just don't want anyone to think it's favoritism," Theo explained.

"What's favoritism?" Kevin asked, narrowing his eyes.

"You'll see," Theo said mysteriously. "Blaise, I need you in my office as soon as possible."

"It's Miss Zabini at work," Blaise mimicked.

"Shut it," Theo said, and walked away without another word.

"Favoritism," Kevin repeated. "You're getting a promotion!"

"She is?" Lisa Turpin asked, looking over the wall separating hers and Blaise's cubicles.

"That's the only explanation I can think of," Kevin said with a shrug.

"Go Blaise!" Lisa crowed. "You deserve it."

"You two are jumping to conclusions," Blaise said. "I may be getting fired, for all you know."

"Then why would it be favoritism?" Kevin enquired in a maddeningly smug way.

"I've got to go," Blaise said airily. With that, she walked away with a grin.

Kevin and Lisa just shook their heads as she left. Anyone who knew Blaise while she was in school never failed to be surprised at the change in her. Some of her Slytherin friends pinpointed the date of her change to a windy September day in her sixth year.

No one knew why Blaise had suddenly come out of her shell, but everyone was aware that she most certainly had. Sixth and seventh year were her defining years. She made friends, cracked jokes, and laughed a lot, for a Slytherin.

Blaise was never really a Pansy Parkinson or a Ginny Weasley. She never had that kind of popularity. But she had her friends, and most people liked her. Those who didn't were invariably the easily offended types that were stung by her sharp tongue.

Blaise, now twenty-four, worked in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, Beast Division. She was part of Dangerous Creature Control Squad One, the top magical creature catchers in the business.

"What can I do for you, Theo?" Blaise said, walking into her boss's office and sitting in one of the chairs facing his desk.

"I'm letting you take the Quintaped Assignment," Theo told her without preamble.

"The Quintaped Assignment?" Blaise asked, stunned. "But...that's top notch."

"Exactly," Theo told her. "You've been part of our most prestigious Control Squad for over two years now, and it's about time you took on a top assignment."

"Thank you," Blaise gushed. "Thank you so much."

"Put a team together and be prepared to leave ASAP," Theo said, ignoring her thanks.

Suddenly, Blaise was all business. "What's the SitRep?"

Theo tossed her a thick manila folder. "The situation has escalated into a full out fiasco. We need back up, because our department can't deal with all of this alone. We're enlisting the help of a team of Aurors, the best available."

"But the best of the best are off chasing fugitive Death Eaters as usual," Blaise said darkly. "Who am I getting?"

"Ginny Weasley, Terence Higgs, Dean Thomas, Tracey Davis, and James Williamson."

"Why Ginny Weasley?" Blaise asked. "Isn't she a part of the Dream Team?"

"She injured her knee," Theo said, looking down at a stack of parchment in front of him. "It wasn't healed in time to accompany the rest of Alpha Squad on their latest jaunt, but it's fully healed now."

Blaise gave a low whistle. "Bet she's not too happy about that."

"I don't know," Theo said. "Frankly, I don't care."

"Wait, that's one short," Blaise said, counting off in her head. "There's six to a squad, isn't there?"

"Oh, yes," Theo said, sorting through his papers until he found the one he was looking for. "The commanding officer is...Seamus Finnigan. A bit of a temper, but he's one of the best. He shouldn't be that much trouble, but he is Irish. You know what they say about the Irish. I understand that he's extremely clever, and can...is something the matter?"

Blaise was staring at him with mingled interest and horror. "Seamus Finnigan? As in the annoyingly upbeat, ridiculously good-looking, completely charming Seamus Finnigan?"

"Well, I didn't know you had a thing for him," Theo teased.

"I do not have a thing for him," Blaise scoffed. "I haven't talked to him since sixth year."

"You talked to a Gryffindor while you were in Hogwarts?" Theo asked in an astonished voice. "I can't believe you risked the wrath of Malfoy."

"It was an accident," Blaise said. "But he's coming to Scotland with me, apparently. Where's the power balance, here? Am I in charge, or is he in charge?"

"You're the one calling the shots," Theo assured her. "The resident quintaped expert. Seamus is just below you on the proverbial totem pole."

"Good," Blaise said. "I don't want a stinking Gryffindor ordering me around."

"Blaise?" Theo questioned in a slightly alarmed tone. "You do know that we've graduated, don't you?"

"Yeah," Blaise said. "Sorry about that. I'll have a team together in a trice."

"Good," Theo said. "We've got a meeting with the Aurors in an hour, think you can be ready by then?"

"An hour to put a whole team together?" Blaise asked. Theo frowned at her. "Of course I can be ready," she added hastily. "I'll get right on it."

She exited the office, walking on air. The Quintaped Assignment was the cream of the crop. The big time. Blaise was really going somewhere, it seemed.

The Quintaped Assignment had come up early that morning. The quintapeds on the Isle of Drear had escaped and were terrorizing the northernmost part of Scotland, and the local wizards had contacted the Ministry of Magic for assistance.

As she walked, Blaise opened the manila folder and looked at the pieces of parchment inside. The first one was a brief summary of a quintaped. Blaise recognized the information as coming straight from Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them.

"The Quintaped is a highly dangerous creature with a particular taste for humans. It is also know as Hairy MacBoon. Its body is as well as its five legs covered with thick brown hairs. Each of its legs ends in a clubfoot. The Quintaped is found only upon the Isle of Drear off the northernmost tip of Scotland. Drear has been made unplottable for this reason. The legend says that all Quintaped is a bewitched wizarding family (the MacBoons). They were bewitched by their fellow isle inhabitants of the McCliverts family who lost one son in a duel with the MacBoons. Of course the creatures killed all McCliverts family members. The Quintapeds resisted every attempt by the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures to capture a specimen and try to untransfigure it."

The quintaped was a particularly nasty creature. Blaise, however, was looking forward to this assignment. She loved a challenge.

She firmly pushed away the thought that she was looking forward to this because Seamus Finnigan would be accompanying her.

"Kevin, Lisa," Blaise said briskly, setting her folder down on her desk. "Get your gear together, we're going to Scotland."

"What?" Lisa asked.

"Theo gave me the Quintaped Assignment," Blaise said, trying and failing to hide a smile. "You two are on the team. Get going."

Lisa gasped and gave her a hug. "Good for you, sweetie."

"I told you so," Kevin said smugly.

"Yes, you did," Blaise replied. "Now get ready before I change my mind about you coming. Stuck up git that you are."

"I'm going, I'm going," Kevin said. He grabbed Lisa, who hadn't let go of Blaise, by the arm. "Come on, Lisa dear. Blaise is in business mode."

"We better scurry off before she pulls out the red pen," Lisa said in a loud whisper.

"Very funny, guys," Blaise said.

"Where did I put my Shrinking Containment Cube, anyway?" Kevin mused, already walking away.

"I've got to go dig up my dragonhide gloves," Lisa said. "Bye."

Blaise just laughed and shook her head. As her friends ran off to find their gear, she sat down at her desk and pulled out a piece of parchment, a quill, and a bottle of ink.

Who should she take with her? Every person in her department had different strong points, and Blaise would have to decide which particular experts she needed.

Half an hour later, with many crossings out and great, heaving sighs, Blaise had her list. Not wanting to waste any time, she copied the final names onto a fresh piece of parchment and headed off to find her colleagues.

First on her list was Orla Quirke, specialist in different kinds of containment spells. Quintapeds could go from docile to homicidal in seconds, and they would need to be apprehended. Orla could help them there.

Blaise walked over to her cubicle, but it was empty. She stood there for a moment, idly wondering whether she should continue looking or find the others and come back later. Just as she decided to try again later, she heard a voice behind her.

"Can I help you, Blaise?" Orla said, walking over to her cubicle with a cup of coffee in her hand.

Orla was, to put it mildly, the kind of person who stood out in a crowd. Her dark brown hair was chopped short in a cut strangely resembling Harry Potter's messy black hair. Her clothes looked like hand-me-downs from the local homeless shelter, with abundant holes, patches and frayed threads.

But it was a look she somehow managed to pull off, and Orla gave off a slightly dangerous air. She was an expert in many other spells than containment, including very advanced truth-inducing spells. Blaise would rather have jumped off a bridge than get on Orla's bad side.

"Have you heard about the quintaped problem?" Blaise asked.

"Yeah, I heard," Orla said, taking a sip of coffee. "Why?"

"Theo's put me in charge of it," Blaise explained. "He said to put together a team, and we could use you."

"I'm in," Orla said. "When do we leave?"

"ASAP," Blaise said. "Get your gear together, we head out as soon as I meet with the Aurors."

"Aurors?" Orla asked in surprise. "It's that big?"

"Yes," Blaise said. "That big. Which is why we're leaving as soon as possible."

"I'll be ready in about three minutes, you just let me know when we're going wheels up," Orla said.

"Wheels up?"

"Muggle thing," Orla explained. "Like airplane wheels."

"Oh," Blaise said, remembering airplanes vaguely from her Muggle Studies class. "I'll let you know."

"Thanks," Orla said.

Next up was Euan Abercrombie. He was a terrain expert, and knew where to find absolutely anything. His entire cubicle was covered with maps of different areas of the world.

"Abercrombie," Blaise said shortly. She knew that Euan didn't like interruptions, and preferred them to be as brief as possible.

"What's up, Zabini?" Euan said, not taking his eyes off the large map spread across his desk. He was doing something to it that involved his wand and a strange, spindly instrument.

"Quintapeds on the rampage. You in?"

"Sure. When?"

"Not sure yet," Blaise admitted. "I'll let you know."

"I'll be ready," Euan assured her.

"Good," she said.

That had been easy. Blaise needed one more person to complete her team, and she knew just the person.

"Hey, Hannah," Blaise said, entering the cubicle of the resident healer wannabe. Apparently, Hannah had failed her N.E.W.T. potions exam due to stress from a bad breakup with Ernie Macmillian. Because of that, Hannah hadn't been accepted to the Healer academy. She had decided that, since she loved animals, a job in the Beast Division of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures was just what she should do.

"What?" Hannah said, looking up from a huge, dusty reference book.

"Theo has given me the Quintaped Assignment," Blaise said. "I could use your healing abilities."

"Quintapeds are dangerous," Hannah said. "Theo must think very highly of you. Good show."

"Thanks," Blaise said. "I need you to come with me, though."

"Okay," Hannah said. "I'd face worse than quintapeds to get out of the office."

"My sentiments exactly," Blaise said. "We're going wheels up ASAP."

"You've been talking to Orla again, haven't you?" Hannah asked idly.

"Yes," Blaise said.

"I'll be ready," Hannah assured her.

"Oh no," Blaise said, looking at her watch. "I'm late for the meeting. I have to run."

"Goodbye then," Hannah said.

Blaise ran off, heading to Theo's office as fast as she could. Theo was going to have her head.

By the time Blaise reached Theo's office, she was out of breath and sure she looked a mess. She grabbed the doorknob, twisted it, walked into the room...

...and stopped in her tracks.

There he was. Sitting in one of the chairs in front of Theo's desk, staring at her out of the blue eyes she remembered so well. Smiling.

Seamus Finnigan.