Shinobi-Of-Ookami

“Max, I’ve found you a sparring partner” Standing barefooted and robed in white within the CONTROL training gym, Agent 86 was just about to express his desire to tangle with some fresh talent but the idea was cut-short, leaving him speechless, when he noticed the beautiful young girl with bobbed hair and large doe-like eyes standing behind the Chief. It took a couple of moments but once the penny had finally dropped, his eyes widened as he realised that she would be his new challenge. “Err Chief?” Max leaned in and drew the older man into a conspiratorial whisper; had they been in his office the Head of CONTROL was almost certain the Cone of Silence would have been requested next. Since no Cone was available in the sparsely furnished training arena, Agent 86 made-do with low almost-whispered muttering; “she’s a woman.” It was going to be one of those days, the Chief couldn’t help but feel. Then again, any and every day that was working with Maxwell Smart ended up being

Somehow, the Doctor had lost the dining room. Victoria wasn’t quite sure how you could do that but you could bet that if anyone could, the Doctor would manage to lose an entire room in his ‘house’. Granted, it was a vast house. A vast, time-travelling house. After expressing her feelings of missing her old life, the Doctor had tried small little ways to make her feel more at home, and this dinner was supposed to be one of them. It was a sweet gesture, but this was the fifth time of being promised a ‘family dinner’; just like she used to remember, with silver cutlery and napkins, side plates and sturdy oak chairs that forced you into an attentive posture. And small talk. Glorious, British small talk. Instead to reminiscing over aliens and creatures they had battled and befriended, they might even talk about the weather. Not to mention, wonderful food with wafting aromas escaping to announce their arrival, offering teasing hints to what was to come. But after the fifth time, Victoria

(The following story takes place in the Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban film - during the werewolf scene) Chapter 5: Fire Burn and Cauldron Bubble The usually meticulously organised cupboards and shelves of Hogwarts’ potions master were not looking their usual best, but then again, time was of the essence. Ingredients lay sprawled across each table and work surface; arranged loosely into categories and awaiting weighting and measuring. The smell of brewing was thick in the dungeon corridors and as the evening light was blazing it’s last outside the gothic window, it twinkled on the steam tendrils that hung in the room. At first glance, it appeared the resident professor was not there but looking and listening closely, the sound of glass jars clinking and scrapping dryly against wooden shelves, combined with low, indistinguishable mutterings and accompanied by the evidence of a long black cloak flooding out from within an old cupboard, would have suggested otherwise.

(The following story takes place in the Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban film - during the werewolf scene) Chapter 4: Double, Double Toil and Trouble By day the halls, corridors and chambers of Hogwarts were all full and bustling of the echoing footfalls of hundreds of students, the sound of textbooks being plonked on desks reluctantly and rustles of parchment. Often, the aromas of freshly baked pumpkin pasties or earthy essences of Professor Sprout’s greenhouse could be detected if your nose was pointing in the right direction, otherwise you would catch a whiff here and there of the general smells of a Hogwarts classroom; inks and feathers and steaming cauldrons – only occasionally would the suspicious sent of burning also be present. In the middle of the night however, none of these things were there. The halls were uncannily still and silent, apart from the occasion wisp of a ghost wafting about his or her business. The classrooms and offices were free from peculiar aromas

(The following takes place during the film Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban) Chapter 3 - Dear Mr and Mrs Granger Dumbledore, as usual when something was concerning him, was pacing in his study. He wasn’t as a rule someone who became anxious from troubles but if there was one thing that was sure to make the headmaster pace, it was having to inform parents of an accident. In his long position as headmaster of Hogwarts School he was no stranger to this grim task but it never got easier, and in a way, he hoped it never would. Merlin forbid, should teachers ever come to consider a student getting hurt under their care as normal or acceptable. He strolled back to his desk where Fawkes dozed peacefully by his side. Dear Mr and Mrs Granger, As if the parchment had burned his eyes, he violently turned away from the letter in shame. The small tawny owl that waited to deliver the unwritten correspondent fidgeted on the windowsill restlessly and let out a chirp of impatience.

(The following story takes place in the Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban film) Chapter 2: Expected (and Unexpected) Visitors A few days had past and Hermione, although still a little blurry on the whole turn of events and potentially going to be transformed into a werewolf anytime between now and Saturday, decided she couldn’t stick sitting in hospital feeling sorry for herself so was getting on with her homework. After all, werewolf bite or not, Professor McGonagall wasn’t going to consider that an excuse for her perfect grades to slip. She’d had a few visitors since feeling well enough to see anyone, first there was the headmaster who brought his trademark visiting gift of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans and told her a few uplifting stories of events that she’d missed. Then there was Hagrid - good old faithful Hagrid - who looked about ready to cry at any moment and kept going to engulf her in a hug before remembering her injury and settling for a pat on the hand. His

(The following story takes place in the Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban film - during the werewolf scene) Chapter 1: An Unexpected Turn of Events It all happened so fast and it was the currently-canine Professor who seemed the most shocked. In a sudden jolt of humanity, he backed away cautiously with a very human look of guilt and anguish on his wolven face. With an apologetic whimper, he bolted into the undergrowth and was gone. With the immediate threat missing, it took no time at all for the small group’s attention to be on Hermione. Ron and Harry simply sat and watched in a sickly, helpless worry whilst Professor Snape wasted no time in examining the wound on her right shoulder gravely. “It’s only a scratch” Ron offered in unconvincing, rather reluctant optimism but no one seemed cheered; thanks to the Professor’s recent lecture, they all knew the hazards of crossing a werewolf. Pulling back a layer of his robes, the Potions Master revealed a small armoury of potion