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Robert Sutton stumbled out of a pub and onto a small street. He drunkenly staggered across to a telephone box to call a cab.
He grabbed the receiver as the door closed behind him and squinted at the dial. “Six… Two… No, no.” He muttered as he struggled to remember the number. “Was it, four… Four… Two-”
“Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and business.” Robert jumped and collided with the wall of the booth as the loud female voice assaulted his ears. "Bloody hell was tha’?" He slurred as he looked around for the woman. He turned back around when he heard a small tinkling sound. A small something had come out of the coin tray. Robert grabbed it, it was a small silver badge. He struggled to read what it said.
"Blondel, Hal – Visitor"
He barely managed to keep his footing as the floor shuddered beneath him, and he started to travel downward as if in a lift.
Robert looked around the booth in a haze, not knowing what to do. Eventually, the movement stopped, and the same female voice said, “The Ministry of Magic wishes you a pleasant day.” The door opened, and instead of the street there was an extravagant hall. Green and orange flashes came from fireplaces that lined the walls as people walked in and out of the flames. The navy-blue ceiling was dimly reflected in the dark wooden floor. “I’m not that drunk…” he whispered to himself as he looked around awestruck.
“Oi! You! What you doin’ here?!” A tall, thin man wearing an odd, long garment walked briskly toward Robert. He looked Robert up and down, seeing the badge Robert held in his hand. “Hal, is it?” The man said, his tone ungracious.
“We don’t take too kindly to Muggle scum around here.” He grabbed Robert’s arm and dragged him to a discreet hallway. “Where’d you get the password?” He had stopped and was getting in Roberts face now. Having seen the confrontation, a short woman quickly turned from her original path and had briskly followed them.
“What seems to be the problem, Travers?” The lady asked. She wore a dull black dress with green accents, and silver snake earrings. “This muggle scum got the password to the visitor entrance!” Travers said with exasperation.
“Hal isn’t a muggle!” The lady said with a laugh, “He’s an investigator from the Auror office.” She gestured behind Travers with a thin stick. A bird like apparition formed behind him and flew like a ghost down a hall out of sight.
“Then why, Ms. Hopkirk, does he look confused, as if he’s never set foot here?” Travers said with menace, the ghostly form going unnoticed. Robert watched the conversation in confusion. He didn’t know half the words these people were saying. The lady known as Hopkirk was unperturbed, “He was hit with an illegally modified confundus charm and is supposed to be on leave at St. Mungos. I’m not sure how he got here, but if he remembers the password the healers are making significant progress.” she said pleasantly.
“And what about his muggle clothes?” The man asked in a dangerous whisper. She was still unfazed. “I’m sure St. Mungo’s has a stock of muggle clothing for those who can’t apparate so that they can be discrete when leaving.” She reasoned.
Travers shook his head, clearly unconvinced. “I’m taking him to Yaxly.” As he grabbed Robert’s arm again, a square-jawed woman rounded the corner.
Her clothing was similar to Travers’ long garment, but it was more fitted, especially around the torso. She wore a yellow ribbon in her hair. “Hello Travers. How are you, Mafilda? Oh, Blondel, it’s been a while! How are you feeling? You really should be at St. Mungo’s still. Did they release you?” She talked so fast that Robert didn’t even register the question, all he got out was “Uh,” before she continued,
“Well someone’s been dipping into the fire whiskey I see! You really are in no shape to floo alone. Come along,” she gently grabbed his arm from Travers. Turning to Hopkirk, she said “Mafilda, dear, would you give me a hand?”
Travers was cross. “Now Bones-” she interrupted him saying “Yes, Travers, thank you for being so considerate about this misunderstanding. And, I take it that you know it will take some time to get this one sorted out.” She said good-naturedly, giving Robert a pat on the back as the two ladies led him to one of the fires.
Over her shoulder, Bones said to Travers “We’ll be back in a jiffy, but would you be a dear and tell our managers we’ll be out for a spell?”
Travers was getting outraged, “Now wait one minute. You can’t just take him-” “Oh it’s no trouble, be back in a bit!” Bones turned away from Travers as Hopkirk tossed some sand into the fire.
Robert was disoriented. The color of the fire flashed to green and he closed his eyes while he was led into the fireplace. “St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.” Bones intoned. The world began to spin and Robert felt overwhelmingly dizzy. As he steadied himself, he heard a new, barely audible voice saying “Oi, Travers, wait your turn!”
When Robert opened his eyes, he saw Bones nod to a woman behind a desk. The ladies continued to lead him forward. He’s not quite sure how, but he could have sworn they had just walked through a wall, and then he and the ladies were inexplicably on a street corner.
“This way.” Hopkirk whispered. Robert was brought down an alleyway, and they stopped once they rounded a dumpster. The two women looked at him kindly, “What’s your name, dear?” Hopkirk asked him. “Uh, Robert Sutton. I think… I’m a bit confused.” He answered.
She smiled “I’m sure you are. Now don’t you worry, we’ll help you and everything will be fine.” She turned to Bones, saying “Thank you for your help, Amelia. Could you do the charm? Your better at it than I am, and he only needs to forget the last fifteen minutes or so. Maybe a half hour to be safe.” Bones nodded “Of course,” she approached Robert and said “All you have to do is relax. This will only take a moment.”
When Robert woke up in his bed the next day, he didn’t remember anything from the previous night. Attributing the loss of time to his drinking, he didn’t bother worrying about it.
From that day forward, the telephone box across from the pub had a simple padlock on the handle, and a sign that said "Out of Order" on the door.