Capítulo 43: Jarvey is no longer an illegal
Green flames erupted around us as we stepped into the Ministry of Magic's atrium. The peacock-blue ceiling stretched high above, its golden symbols morphing and dancing in an endless display that made my eyes swim if I stared too long. Witches and wizards bustled past in a blur of colorful robes, their footsteps echoing off the polished dark wood floor.
"Come on," Mum said briskly, her golden eyes—so like my own—darting around the crowded space as she set off toward the lifts. I hurried after her, scratching Jarvey's head as he clung to my shoulder.
The Ministry looked exactly as Mum had described it, weird that I had never come here before, I know, I never had the need to so I never came and now that I was her all I could say was this.
I was severely disappointed.
Aside from the ceiling this place was basically a giant bureaucratic machine, my bane, my worst nightmare. Seriously who could work in this place in a world of magic, no way I was gonna work in here when I got older. Still now that I was here I wondered if mom worked in some part of this place, honestly I couldn't see it.
We squeezed into a lift already crowded with Ministry workers. A wizard with an impressively curled mustache was arguing with a tiny witch about proper cauldron bottom thickness regulations, while a paper airplane memo zoomed around their heads. Jarvey was silent, sleeping soundly on my shoulder, thank Merlin. I didn't want everyone to turn and look at me.
"Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures," announced a cool female voice as the lift shuddered to a halt. The golden grilles slid open with a clang, and we followed Mum down a long corridor. The walls were lined with moving photographs of various magical creatures—I spotted what looked like a Quintaped throwing a tantrum in one frame.
Mum stopped at a door labeled "Beast Division." Inside was an office that looked like someone had attempted to organize chaos and given up halfway through. Towering stacks of parchment covered every surface, threatening to topple at the slightest breeze. A few were actually hovering in midair, presumably to save desk space.
Behind a particularly precarious pile sat a witch with brown hair that seemed to be trying to escape in every direction at once. She looked up as we entered, a smile gracing her thirty year old face.
"Felice Serendipity," Mum announced crisply. "We have an appointment regarding proper registration and licensing for a Jarvey familiar."
The witch, whose nametag identified her as "Mathilda Grimblehawk", peered at us, or me. She looked at me like I was a disappointment or something, I couldn't make it out 100%.
"Nice to see you again Felice," she said warmly, her stern expression softening as she looked at her.
"Yeah you too Mathilda thanks for doing this."
I glanced between them, curious about their apparent familiarity, but before I could ask, Jarvey awoke and with that he spoke.
"Come on, let's get to this, I don't want to be an 'illegal' anymore," he said, making air quotes with his tiny paws in a gesture that would have been comical if he wasn't so obviously annoyed.
Mathilda's eyes narrowed as she studied Jarvey with newfound interest. "It understands us," she said, jabbing a finger in his direction.
"Yeah," I confirmed, lifting Jarvey slightly. "Smartest ferret in the world."
"I'm not a goddamn ferret," Jarvey protested, his tail puffing up indignantly.
Mathilda leaned forward, her eyes taking on a familiar gleam of academic curiosity that I often saw in my own reflection. "Hmm, it could have some Kneazle blood," she mused, reaching for a quill.
"I'm no fucking cat-ferret hybrid, you old bag," Jarvey snarled. I quickly clamped my hand over his mouth before he could elaborate on that thought.
Mathilda seemed more amused than offended as she pulled out an alarmingly thick stack of forms. The next hour passed in a blur of increasingly specific questions. What was Jarvey's lineage? ("Unknown, and I'll bite anyone who suggests otherwise," was his helpful contribution.) His age? ("Fourteen, you nosy witch!") His magical abilities? (Excessive swearing appeared to be the primary one, though I noticed Mathilda writing something about "enhanced intelligence" and "possible inter-species communication.")
Throughout the examination, I had to physically restrain Jarvey multiple times as Mathilda prodded him with her wand. She examined his teeth ("Watch where you're poking that thing!"), measured his tail length ("Oi, hands off the merchandise!"), and even plucked a few hairs for "analysis" (his response to this was unfortunately unprintable).
By the time Mathilda finally stamped the last form, which thank Merlin, I was exhausted from playing peacekeeper and reading all of this boring stuff, I enjoyed reading but this place was killing me from boredom more so than normal school did, which I thought was impossible. Jarvey had resorted to trying to spit at her when he thought I wasn't looking, which would have been more concerning if his aim wasn't so terrible.
"Well, that's that sorted," Mathilda announced, seemingly unperturbed by the morning's hostilities. "Jarvey is now legally registered as your pet. You can now bring him with you to Hogwarts or whichever other place you had planned. We only need one more thing—what will you name him? We need to keep it for our records."
"Jarvey Serendipity," I said, watching as an enchanted quill danced across the parchment, recording the name before Mathilda brought down her stamp with a satisfying thunk.
"That's a really stupid surname," Jarvey grumbled from his perch on my shoulder, though I noticed he was watching the official documentation with poorly concealed interest.
"Oh, what do you want me to change it?" I asked with a smirk, which Mum and Mathilda mirrored.
"No it's fine, it'll be too much work to change it now."
"Don't worry, we can change it in a second," Mathilda offered helpfully.
"I said it's fine!" Jarvey yelled, his voice echoing down the corridor and drawing curious looks from passing Ministry workers.
"Well then, you heard the ferret, we'll keep the name as is," I told Mathilda, trying not to laugh at Jarvey's indignant expression.
"I'm not a fe—" he began, but was cut off as Mum reached over to scratch behind his ears, reducing him to a purring puddle on my shoulder sinking into my robe.
"That's a good Serendipity," she said sweetly.
I smiled, reaching up to scratch his tail myself. Despite his protests, I could feel him leaning into the touch.
"Thank you Mathilda," Mum said warmly. "I know you normally don't like to do all this paperwork."
"No worries Felice, anything for an old friend right?"
Mum nodded, and we made our way back through the maze of corridors. My curiosity finally got the better of me.
"So she's a friend?" I asked.
"Yes, Felix."
"From Hogwarts?"
"Was she also a Slytherin?"
"No, she was a Gryffindor, but we took the same potions class with Professor Slughorn."
"Oh."
We approached the constantly burning green flames of the Ministry's Floo network. The emerald fire danced hypnotically in its grate, casting strange shadows on the polished floor.
"House of Felice Serendipity," Mum announced clearly.
The familiar sensation of floo magical travel took hold—like being caught in a whirlwind while simultaneously being pushed down a drain. When we emerged in our living room, covered in soot and ash, I was grateful for solid ground beneath my feet.
Mum immediately turned to our fireplace, her wand appearing in her hand with practiced speed. With a precise flick, she transformed the hearth into solid brick from top to bottom.
"Why do you do that Mum?"
"It would be good to have an actual fireplace."
"You never know who's on the other side of the Floo network," she added, her voice taking on an unusual coldness as she stared at the wall with an intensity that made me wonder what—or who—she was thinking about.
The moment passed as quickly as it had come. She clapped her hands, her usual warmth returning. "Well let's go have lunch, play some poker, and maybe even practice some divination—it's your last day here, we need to make it count!"
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