Of Broken Jaws and Locking Doors

Whoever decided letting first years practicing charms when they don't understand them was a good part of the curriculum deserves to be shot, Zach thought as he sat in the waiting room outside of casualty. When that bang had gone off he'd been completely sure that Baggins had disintegrated Lovett, and had been surprised that both remained wholly intact. But still, the blast had required an urgent trip to St Mungo's; he himself had not been aware that alohomora could cause such an uproar.

Standing up, Zach sighed and began to examine the room. It was bland, just your typical hospital set up with a table full of Prophets and Witch Weekly's, all tallow and out of date. Other than that was a cupboard. Opening the latch, he peered inside, wondering what he would find. Needless to say he was a little disappointed when all he discovered were a few mops and a bucket rather than Narnia. Sighing, he turned back around when he knocked into something and was forced backwards. Grabbing hold of it, he toppled into the cupboard when the door shut, plunging them into darkess.

"Ooooh, dear," was all he could say.

Emily had never liked hospitals very much. They made her jumpy and nervous. She hated it when she had no choice but to go, like now. While she had been practicing a spell she needed to know for her job, she accidentally casted it upon her leg instead of the papers in front of her. She hadn't been sure how she managed to do that, but she had. And now her leg was slowly turning a bright green, as she cast a highlighting spell on it. She tried to reverse it, but nothing had worked.

She wasn't planning on walking around with a green leg forever, so after three days she knew that she had to go to St Mungo's to let herself be checked out. They fixed her leg with a simple potion. Now she was walking towards the entrance again, her pace faster than normal. She just wanted to go home.

In her hurry however, she missed the man that was standing there, he lost his balance and grabbed hold of her shoulders. They fell right into a cupboard, Emily's shriek of surprise and slight horror the only echoing in the darkness. "Oh! I'm so sorry!" she stammered quickly, wanting to roll off the man, but finding herself unable as the cupboard was way too small for them both.

Zach straightened up, fumbling for his wand. "Lumos," he muttered, illuminating the cupboard. He turned to smile at the girl who had fallen on top of him. "Yeah, well, it's alright. No worries about it." He grunted and straightened up. "I am never teaching first years again."

He looked around to see if he could fathom an exit to the cupboard, but it seemed pretty dark. "I'm Zach, by the way. Zacharias Smith. I'm a charms professor at Hogwarts." He shifted his arm a little. "Though you wouldn't think it to look around right now."

Emily blinked rapidly as the man lit his wand, her eyes quickly getting used to the bright light. She felt slightly guilty, as she had pushed them both inside this cupboard. She just hoped she hadn't elbowed the man in his stomach in her hurry to get up. She now was still lying half on top of him, but she didn't care to move. She was too scared she would only make the matter worse. Which was something she was way too good at. Too good, really. She should learn how to come across as less of a klutz.

"Emily Edwards, your job sounds very interesting, Charms has always been my favourite subject," she said with a smile. "But what have first years to do with falling into cupboards?" she continued, a little confused about this.

"Pleased to meetcha," Zach said, smiling slightly. "Your favourite subject? It's my least." He grinned widely and leant back.

"Two of them were practicing. One of them almost blew the other up. I drag them both to Mungo's and disaster after disaster seems to unfold." He sighed. "Sorry about this. I'm sure you're busy doing something... busy... and haven't got time for this." Looking up, he pointed his wand at the door, illuminating it as he searched for something, anything that would help them get out.

"If it's your least favourite subject, then why do you teach it?" she asked incredulously, chuckling slightly.

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that," she told him apologetically. Emily felt like she should pat the man on the back, but she decided against it. She had never met him before, it seemed out of place. "I'm not busy, I came here to get my leg checked out. I somehow managed to make it green," she blabbered. "But I'm sure you are busy, and I am just keeping you up. I'll help you find a way out," she said quickly, feeling a blush form on her cheeks as she crawled towards the door to try to find a knob. She found nothing. "Is it just me, or does the inside of this door not have a knob?" she questioned.

"It didn't use to be my least favourite subject," Zach assured her with a grin. "It's just when it's the only thing you ever do it gets tedious. Why, what's your job?"

He laughed a little, then stopped. "Sorry, I shouldn't laugh at your leg turning green. Just sounds a bit obscure, is all." He nodded at her words, feeling the logic behind them. "Maybe we should just shove against it. If you can open it from outside, you should be able to open it in, no?"

"That's understandable," she said chuckling when the man told her he liked Charms before he started his job. Emily ran her hand through her hair in a nervous gesture, before she started babbling again. "I'm an Unspeakable in training, I just started actually. My training, I mean. In two years, I will be a full Unspeakable," she told him.

"I laughed when I turned my leg green, so I don't see why you can't," she replied with a grin, pulling her trousers down further so the man wouldn't actually see the green skin. "Shoving against it sounds like a good plan. How do you want to do this? Count to three and then run into it? That might be a little inconvenient seeing as we can't really run for it, seeing as we're in a cupboard," she pondered out loud.

"An Unspeakable in training," Zach said with a low whistle. "What a title. That sounds awesome. So, if you're in training, does that mean you can explain to me what you do all day? What do we call you, a partially-speakable?" He had often wondered about the Department of Mysteries. Even when Potter and Lovegood and Weasleys Six and Seven and Granger and Neville had broken in, that hadn't really answered any of his questions. Plus he'd never made good enough friends with any of them to talk to them without one of them wanting to punch him in the face, but he'd gel over that.

He nodded, readying himself. "We'll count to three and then shove against it. Like a battering ram. But better." He tilted his head to the side. "Ready? Okay. On the count of three. One... two... three."