Work Text:
[Flashes of red light]
I ought to put in a request to move offices.
[Flashes of green light]
I hear Mongolia is nice and quiet. All you have to do there is police drunks and investigate the odd dark ritual. Calm. Low energy. And most importantly - no Apollos marching up and down past my desk all day-
“Avada kedevra!”
That's the worst part of working in Moscow. The good looking men. I can't stand it. I'd rather be in prison than endure the sight of another beautiful man face.
“Mors fulminea!”
[Whipcracks of lightning]
Pain surges through my body while I'm skipping around a battlefield formed of a (former) muggle warehouse on the outskirts of the city. There he goes again, Yuri Igorevich, using his divine voice to kill people. I cannot stand to hear it. It's too lovely. Ever since I caused flocks of mind healers to descend upon him after I claimed he was afflicted by the Imperius curse, he's gone from indifferent to hostile. I guarantee he knows that it hurts me when he speaks anywhere near my vicinity, and now he won't shut the hell up.
“I know for a fact you can cast non-verbally, boss. Please do.” I say, when a criminal is a sticky pile of steaming goo at our feet and my superior is blowing smoke off the end of his wand.
A death stare of magnificent proportions is my answer, and then my fellow auror spins on his heel so that his coat flares out and makes me want to die, and casts his favourite spell at another malefactor attempting to sneak up on him.
“Mors fulminea!”
[Screaming]
Anyway, after work everyone is in a good mood. An entire cell of darkness has been wiped out and so Boris Romanovich gives Yuri the Department credit card. Yes, muggles have invented some good things.
“Party time.” Yuri smirks, holding the thing like he's going to cut a throat with it. He probably would, if he wasn't staring at us, his beloved squad, which consists of eight of the best aurors in the entirety of Europe and Asia combined. We have killed SO many bad guys it is unbelievable, so much so that we're known as the ‘A-Team’ or the ‘Weasels’. Send us in and everything dies.
“Can I come?” A mild and gentle voice wholly unsuited to the area it finds itself in, floats over the sea of cubicles and everyone looks over to find Mitya the Department Idiot wandering over, dressed in his mother's hand knit jumper, a jumper with a pony on it.
“Ah…” Yuri thinks fast on his feet, which is certainly why he is the leader and not the forty-five year old Vasily Sergeyevich, or the eighty year old Mikhail Mikhailovich. “Yes, and Yekaterina Igorevna will look after you…” he sheds an evil look upon me. That is still better than indifference, even if it tortures my heart to see his face. Now, let me not be fired. Or shot with friendly fire in the back of the head.
Where shall we be going? The most expensive place in the most expensive city. An establishment where Yuri can use thousands of American muggle moneys on a good time. The Ministry's American muggle moneys, of course. Rich people never use their own money to do anything, is what my mother says, and I do believe it's true. The club with the best Russian music, which means it has both the most twee of traditional tunes, and the worst of Slavic rap. Perfect for drinking too. To Bolshoi Savvinskiy we go.
All of us pile into a muggle cab like we can't just teleport to the place. But apprarating and disapparating removes pre-drinking drinks from the occasion and that is the second best part. Completely by coincidence I land across our team leader's lap. He can't push me off either because there is no space.
“Hi, Katya.” says my friend, Olga, handily squeezed between him, the most good looking man in the world, and Nikolai Alexandrovich, the least good looking man in the world. Neither of these attracts her attention in the least. Oh to be her. She is most certainly the most powerful witch of all time. I'm also lying on her lap, so she begins to make sure my hair is nice.
“Hi, Olya. I appreciated the way you shot that dark wizard's head off earlier.”
“I was quite proud of that move, thank you.”
“I'm excited. You guys are so cool.” says Mitya, stuffing himself into the gap left by eight bodies.
The club at first doesn't want to let in anyone but Yuri and us girls, but when our super scary badges are whipped out, they change their mind, assuming we are the muggle Secret Service. The KGB or whatever. Mitya’s pony jumper helps greatly with this, I think.
“Scary badge.” says Anna Petrovna, squad Goth Girl, as she holds her auror badge up for inspection for a smitten bouncer. I think she and Yuri are involved, just going by aesthetics and relative beauty level.
Purebloods in Russia are not as insane as how I've heard they are elsewhere, because the club is full of muggles and my crush does not begin blasting. At least, not the instant he walks in. Although, to be fair, that might be because his famous friend is present and spazzing out to the music, thus diverting his murderous impulses.
“Yurets!”
“Vitya!”
“Oh, Lord, it's Viktor Krum.” Anya and Olga commandeer one of my ears each to tell me this, despite it being extremely obvious to me that Viktor Krum is just over there, through the apocalypse of flashing lights muggles love so much. The giant signs scrawled with the words ‘KRUM’ and ‘BONBON’ make that exceedingly clear.
“Well, that's our work party ruined.” I huff, crossing my arms.
“Why?” asks Mitya, a box of children's juice in hand.
“Because those two will go off to party by themselves and a horde of women, leaving our body without a head and our wallet without a credit card. That always happens. The upper class hang with the upper class, and the plebs with plebs.”
“I'll have you know that my grandfather was a nobleman.” drawls Mikhail Mikhailovich from behind me somewhere. “He once accidentally shot the tsar in the leg whilst demonstrating a new sort of pocket pistol.”
"Hah!" mutters Nikolai Alexandrovich.
Olga, being the sweet person she is, immediately attempts to commiserate. “Okay, but you're not relevant, Mikhail Mikhailovich. Yuri Igorevich and Viktor Ivanovich are.”
“Call me Misha, sweetheart.”
The Medvedev Twins stare.
“...I know how to solve this,” declares Nikolai Alexandrovich, whipping his ugly wand out. “Anya, Mitya, to me.”
Oh, no. This is all Yuri's fault.
I tell him so when, by the machinations of two and a half of my colleagues, he has been returned to us and Nikolai can look forward to a fresh scar disfiguring his face. Standing boxed in by hundreds of gyrating muggles, Yuri does not appear impressed, I must say. But he rarely does.
“Scary badge.” says Anna Petrovna, flashing her badge at him.
That provokes a small smile. I knew it. I knew it!!!
“You're trailing.”
“Huh?”
We all look down to find ourselves standing in a pool of blood. Yippee. Time for the best part of any night out - washing blood away together in the loos.
💔💝💔
The toilets in the club are spectacular, featuring a great deal of marble and a great deal of glass. At the latter, Yuri and the girls, minus me, lean forward to do whatever such people do at bathroom mirrors. Check their eyeliner and rearrange their hair, presumably. They certainly are making funny faces at themselves. Meanwhile, me and the guys remove blood soaked toilet paper from our shoes. If this were a ‘film’, it would now introduce us, beginning with me, as the main character. First, I pull some sort of face, probably a goofy one as the camera slo-mos around me to the beat of a cute song, like ‘Winged Hussars’ by Sabaton.
Yekaterina Igorevna Kazakova (Squad Infiltration Expert)
Age: 25
Likes: Yuri Igorevich
Dislikes: Cabbage
Fav Colour: PINK
Quirky Fact: Skipped several years of school
Olga Vladimirovna Kuznetsova (The Heavy)
Age: 41
Likes: Blowing things up
Dislikes: Tractors
Fav Colour: Yellow
Quirky Fact: Was once a bodyguard for the muggle president
Anna Petrovna Sokolova (The Goth)
Age: 27
Likes: Gloomy things
Dislikes: Traffic jams
Fav Colour: Pink (and black)
Quirky Fact: Collects teapots
Mitya (Office Mascot)
Age: 55
Likes: Dinosaurs
Dislikes: Paperclips
Fav Colour: Green
Quirky Fact: Attended Hogwarts
Nikolai Alexandrovich Romanoff (Also Heavy)
Age: 130
Likes: Getting into fights
Dislikes: Losing fights
Fav Colour: Purple
Quirky Fact: May actually be the Tsar
Vasily Sergeyevich Popov (Hannibal)
Age: 45
Likes: Keeping to himself
Dislikes: Dogs
Fav Colour: Blue
Quirky Fact: Chess Grandmaster
Mikhail Mikhailovich Melnikoff (Mr Culture)
Age: 80
Likes: Writing
Dislikes: Queuing
Fav Colour: Orange
Quirky Fact: Collects rocks
Dmitri Fyodorovich & Ivan Fyodorovich Medvedev (Squad Creepy Twins)
Age: 62
Like: Bears
Dislike: Bears
Fav Colour: Brown
Quirky Fact: Collect the wands of fallen enemies
Ending with the main character's love interest over by the mirror, slow-moing as he's pulling down an eyelid to apply kohl.
Yuri Igorevich Karkaroff (Squad Leader)
Age: 23
Likes: Whistling
Dislikes: Yekaterina Igorevna
Fav Colour: Grey
Quirky Fact: Never went through an ‘emo phase’
Bonus: (Dancing outside the toilet door)
Viktor Ivanovich Krumoff (Famous Friend of a Friend Colleague)
Age: 19
Likes: Quidditch
Dislikes: Being single
Fav Colour: Red
Quirky fact: Also has brain damage
And then the title would come up, possibly on a scary black background, or possibly springing out of nowhere in colourful Comic Sans: