Hi guys! This is actually the first two chapter stuck together b/c I had them both done and figured I might as well glue them together. Anyway, enjoy the fic and remember to follow, favorite, and review! (Criticism is welcome, it helps me get better).
Note: This chapter is a lot of really slow and irrelevant stuff I mostly wrote because I like writing Muggles and Wizards totally not getting each other, so feel free to skip to the next chapter if you're more of an action type of person
The British Prime Minister was sitting at his desk, staring at a file entitled 'Project: Assassination Classroom.' He rubbed his temples as he skimmed the document, trying to relieve the headache persistently throbbing his need for sleep.
"The Minister would like to see you."
Oh god no not now. I can't deal with him and that stupid octopus with the green stripes...
"Is now a good time?"
Excuses, what would be a good excuse? Come on, there has to be something...
"Ermm... I guess?"
The small fireplace in the room was consumed in green flames and a small, bowler-hatted man stepped out.
Cornelius Fudge, for once in his term as Minister, had had an uneventful week. It had been lovely and magnificent and ever so normal (by magical standards, that is). Everything had run smoothly, there had been no form of memo crisis for the past ten days, and his underlings had all been competent for once in their lives. It was a dream come true for anybody in government work. And the only person who would understand the ecstasy of an average week would be another Prime Minister like himself.
Did Fudge visit a Muggle to brag about his job? Yes. Is he proud of it? No comment.
"Hello my friend! It's been awhile, eh?"
Oh god I'm screwed.
British Prime Ministers, and the British in general, have a long and proud tradition of 'stiff upper lip,' or not showing any form of negative emotion ever. In keeping with this tradition, the British Prime Minister took all his frustration and apprehension, stuffed it in a tiny bottle, and hid the bottle deep down where it would never see the light of day again. Having done so, he donned an all-business pokerface and looked up at his magical counterpart.
"It has. So, what's wrong?"
"Wrong? Oh, nothing is wrong."
"But didn't you say you wouldn't visit unless something was wrong?"
The Muggle Minister's patience was wearing thin, and fast. He quickly pressed onward, hoping a curt tone would be enough of a hint for his magical counterpart.
"Why are you here?"
"Well, I had a fairly uneventful week on the job and decided to check in. I had time and all."
A small flicker of jealousy coursed through the Muggle Minister. This dolt not only got elected, but got an uneventful week!? How. How does that even happen!?
"So, what are you working on?"
The Muggle Minister sighed.
"Something that makes a magical government a lot less crazy-sounding."
At this, Fudge's interest piqued. Had there been some form of leak? Had a Muggle actually sighted magic, in one form or another?
Fudge tried to downplay his panic.
"Oh!? Err, say, can I see?"
The Muggle Minister sighed and flopped the file down in front of Fudge defeatedly.
"It's your perogative. Just please, the public can't know about this. There'd be a mass panic."
Fudge grabbed the file and started reading as fast as he could, apprehension building.
Twenty minutes later, Fudge looked up.
"That's one of the... more interesting phenomenon I've come across."
The Muggle Minister sighed and nodded.
"Japan is planning to yield to the demands, with the condition that no harm may come to the students. They're planning to train the children to assassinate him, plus send in hired hitmen undercover."
"Right. Given the nature of this creature's threat, I'll check in near the end of the Japanese schoolyear and give you some magical assistance if you need it."
The Muggle Minister surveyed his magical counterpart. This might be the first time this guy has actually helped me...
"Well, I thank you for that. Anyway, thanks for the check-up. I suppose I'll see you in March?"
Fudge nodded.
"March."
The two men shook hands and Fudge vanished into the fireplace.
-March, After the Laser-
"Minister!"
The Prime Minister of Great Britain and Ireland looked up to see Cornelius Fudge, the Minister for Magic of Great Britain and Ireland. Fudge whisked into the room from the fireplace, smiling broadly.
"I see your decision to reject our aid was not a rash one."
The Muggle Minister nodded.
"Yes. Turns out we didn't even need the laser."
Fudge quirked an eyebrow upwards.
"Oh?"
"Yeah, the kids broke past the military line and did the monster in. Something about it being their duty to kill him. I have to say, that's some serious job commitment. Kinda scares me too, knowing that a class of kids can defeat five squads of the best the militaries of the world have to offer, plus a Mach 20 superbeing, and come out the other side unscathed."
Fudge considered.
"Well, they were trained quite intensively, correct? It's not like some random kid off the street could do that."
The Muggle Minister nodded.
"Anyway, it's impressive at minimum. When we sent a fighter jet at him, he waxed it in midair for us!"
Fudge gained an expression of confusion.
"A fighter jet?"
"Just forget it. Point is, the guy was damn hard to kill."
Fudge nodded.
"Based on that file you let me read, he is. Anyway, since that's over, I bid you good day and good luck in your endeavors. There's a memo crisis I have to attend to."
Fudge's tone when saying the last sentence was bordering on bitter. The Muggle Minister nodded empathetically, and Fudge left.
-July-
Cornelius Fudge was in the room pacing. The Muggle Minister pontificated on this new development. Well, he wasn't there before, but I guess he is now.
"Hi... uh... look... I hate to ask this of you but I really need help... everyone is in danger... we need to protect Potter... Black is out and will probably kill him... but you don't know who Black is..."
The Muggle Prime Minister looked up at his rambling counterpart, set down his paperwork, took a deep breath, and did the only logical thing to do.
"Shut up and calm down, you're rambling."
Surprisingly, the Prime Minister's blatant rudeness did not affect Fudge. He just nodded and continued.
"Of course, sorry."
Now fairly concerned, the Muggle Minister looked up.
"So what's going on?"
Fudge stopped pacing and looked straight at his Muggle counterpart.
"Alright, here it is: a very dangerous man known as Sirius Black recently escaped from Azkaban, the wizard prison. He is very dangerous. Last time he was out he killed thirteen people, including Peter Pettigrew, his friend from school, and twelve Muggles. The thing is, he used to work for a Dark wizard we now only refer to as He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and a boy named Harry Potter orchestrated the downfall of the Dark wizard. Now Harry Potter is at Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry, in his third year, and we think Black might be after him. We're reinforcing the school of course, guards and such, but Potter has a tendency to... stray away from areas he would be safest in. So we need someone who can join his group of friends and protect him if he gets in trouble. That's where I was hoping you would come in. I was thinking maybe you could help me get in contact with the kids from that Assassination Classroom project. You said they brought down five units of the Muggle world's best soldiers, right?"
The British Minister was very well-versed in pretending not to be phased when he was shaken to his core. Voters are drawn to strong and decisive leaders after all. So when he needs a moment to process, he really needs a moment to process. This occasion required three moments. (Two moments to process the threat of a magic-wielding mass murderer, one to process the irony of sending a class of assassins to protect a boy from a murderer.)
"Ummm... Let's see, I can put you in contact with the project supervisor, but that doesn't guarantee they'll go along with you."
Fudge nodded.
"Anything helps."
The Minister nodded briefly before a look of recognition crossed his face.
"But wait a minute, you said it's a school of magic, right?"
Fudge nodded, waiting for his counterpart to continue.
"So wouldn't the kids stick out? None of them could possibly be magical, they've spent their whole lives in non-magical schools."
Fudge nodded.
"Valid concern, but I've already considered that. See, after World War Two, Americans got all mixed up in Japanese politics and economics and such."
The Muggle Minister nodded, recalling his middle school history classes.
"So the Japanese inherited America's obsession with purebloodedness. They don't educate Mudblooded, or Muggle-born, witches and wizards. Chances are at least one person in the class is magical, and one or two people ought to be enough. Of course, ideally we could get the whole class in, but I doubt that would be possible, if not due to lack of magic then due to the suspicion it would arouse."
The Muggle Minister nodded again, not really understanding but knowing he didn't really need to.
"Right then. Here is the phone number of the project supervisor, a Mr. Karasuma."
The Muggle Minister handed Fudge a slip of paper.
"I bid you the best of luck. I'll alert the public to Black's presence. Nothing magical of course, just some excuse like a gun or some such."
Fudge nodded his thanks, taking the paper and exiting promptly.
-Bonus-
Back in his office, Fudge was composing a memo to the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office.
To the Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office:
I need you to send an expert on Muggle 'phone numbers' to my office at 4:00 tomorrow. Please also have the expert bring any equipment required to use the 'phone number' when they come.
Sincerely,
Cornelius Oswald Fudge; Minister for Magic; Order of Merlin, First Class; Honorary Member of the Wizengamot
=End Chapter=
-Pre-Chapter Bonus-
"Well, the thing is, for certain calls you have to add some more numbers beforehand, and the numbers you add beforehand change depending on which country the phone number is from, so-"
Fudge finally snapped.
"Alright, that's it! I am going to do the reasonable thing and send a regular owl, Muggle or no"
Fudge then pointed an accusing finger at a brass spin-dial telephone Arthur Weasley had his hands on as if to pick up.
"And that... abomination... is going to rot in the pits of hell where it came from."
Fudge sat down and pulled out a piece of parchment and a quill.
"You may return to your duties."
Arthur looked just slightly crestfallen, but nevertheless picked up the telephone and exited promptly. As he did so, Fudge shot one last glare at the old spin-dial.
As he began to write, Fudge muttered under his breath.
"Blasted telephone, why couldn't Muggles choose a sensible method of communication, one that didn't involve all those weird numbers and spinning and ringing."
=Begin Chapter Two=
-Japanese Ministry of Defense-
Tadaomi Karasuma had a stoic expression on his face as he composed an email to one of his superiors. He was trying to decide how to phrase his recommendations without sounding demanding when he heard a tap on the window.
Special Forces instincts kicking in, Karasuma pulled a cocked pistol from its holster and aimed it at the window, before warily lowering it in curiosity. He stepped closer to the window to get a better look at the anomaly in front of him.
He blinked a few times to ensure he wasn't seeing things, then re-holstered his gun. He proceeded to open the window, allowing the large, strong, weathered-looking owl that had been pecking the glass to fly in and settle on his desk.
The plain brown owl gracefully landed on his desk (somehow managing not to knock or ruffle any of the paperwork sitting there), then gently and precisely set a letter with a wax 'M' seal on the top of Karasuma's to do pile. He then did an awkward hop-flap to the windowsill and settled himself down.
Karasuma warily surveyed the owl, who merely looked back at him expectantly with piercing yellow eyes.
Not taking his eyes off the owl, Karasuma walked backwards to his desk and grabbed the envelope. He quickly ripped open the wax seal, completely mangling the envelope as he did so (Stupid wax seals. Who even used them anymore?).
When Karasuma opened the letter, a brown pellet tumbled out, which caused the brown owl to shoot out from its perch and retrieve it before it could hit the floor. Once it had devoured the pellet (treat?), it returned to its perch on the windowsill. Karasuma paid the owl little mind as he read the letter.
Dear Mr. Karasuma:
My name is Cornelius Fudge, Minister for Magic of Great Britain and Ireland. I am writing you concerning the students of Project: Assassination Classroom. I am interested in contracting the students of Project: Assassination Classroom for a job. It would be most appreciated if you would set up a date on which I could meet with the students. Please send your reply with the owl that delivered this message.
Sincerely,
Cornelius Oswald Fudge; Minister for Magic; Order of Merlin, First Class; Honorary Member of the Wizengamot
Karasuma re-read the letter a few times for good measure. His English wasn't the best out there, but he was fairly competent with it when he had to be. But he knew his English wasn't competent enough for this. That letter obviously couldn't be from a, 'Minister for Magic,' and how was an owl supposed to carry a letter from Japan to the UK? Or from the UK to Japan for that matter? No, the problem was obviously his English. It was probably just some prank, and the letter was probably a bunch of slang terms declaring that he had been pranked. Nevertheless, he would have to call in the best English-speaker he had available. Just for good measure.
Karasuma sighed. She'll definitely misinterpret this... But I have no other choice.
Mentally bracing himself, he picked up his phone and deftly dialed a number he had long since memorized.
"Hey~"
A voice with a way too seductive to be professional intonation flowed out from the phone.
I guess she recognized the number then...
"Irina. I need you to come to my office right now."
"Of course! Anything for my boyfriend~"
"This is a strictly professional meeting. Me being your boyfriend has absolutely nothing to do with it."
Irina had already hung up. The owl was staring at Karasuma inquisitively.
"What? It's not like I let it interfere with our work."
The owl kept staring. Karasuma sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Deep down in the back of his mind, he was wondering what kind of prank note would be written in English when they were located in the middle of Tokyo. And where that owl, which didn't appear to be a Japanese breed, came from. But the letter couldn't be genuine. Right?
"I don't know why I'm talking to you. You're an owl for god's sakes."
The owl hooted indignantly, but was drowned out by a knock on the door. A high-pitched, singsong voice penetrated the door.
"Kara-suma! I'm he-ere!"
Karasuma responded bluntly.
"Come in."
Irina Jelavic burst through the door with a strut. She was wearing the suit standard of all Ministry of Defense officers, but with some adjustments that set her apart from her coworkers. Namely the bordering on too short grey skirt instead of pants and the white shirt she was wearing unbuttoned very far down.
"You requested me boss?"
Irinia's voice had a none-too-subtle seductive lilt to it. Karasuma either didn't notice or didn't react.
"Yes, can you please translate this? I'm having trouble with the English."
Karasuma extended the letter to her. She looked slightly put-out, but nevertheless grabbed the parchment. Her eyes quickly flicked back and forth across the paper. As she read, her mouth started to curl down in an expression of confusion.
"I'd ask if this was a joke, but you're the polar opposite of the type."
Karasuma nodded.
"Seemed odd to me too. At first I assumed it was some sort of prank, but given the fact that it's in English and that owl-"
Karasuma poked his thumb at the brown Blakiston's Fish Owl.
"-is way too large to be from Japan, I'm actually starting to believe it a little. Though I'd like your opinion."
Irina nodded, and bit her lip.
"Well... Once on a mission in London I heard some rumors of a guy called Mundungus Fletcher claiming to be selling anti-chizpurfle cauldrons and wand guards, but I wrote him off as some crackpot and completed the mission..."
Irina looked up at Karasuma indeterminately.
"He may have been involved with something magical. It would make a Minister of Magic a lot less far-fetched. But it could still be a prank..."
Karasuma sighed.
"Well, might as well go along with it. Worst case scenario, nothing happens and we have a laugh about it with the kids."
"You know, the way you said that made it sound like you were talking about our biological kids. Of course, we don't have any yet, but that can change~"
Karasuma ignored Irina's implication.
"I'll email them to be at the old 3-E classroom on Saturday. That'll be the twelfth, right?"
Irina nodded.
"Right then. I'll email the kids and write a letter back to the supposed Minister. I take it you'll be coming along?"
Irina smiled.
"They're my kids too you know."
Karasuma smiled and nodded.
-Bonus-
"Ok, so do I just set this down near you or do I have to attach it somehow?"
Karasuma had a letter in his hand addressed to 'Cornelius Fudge.' He hadn't written anything else, as he had absolutely no idea where this man may reside or work. The large owl on his windowsill was staring at him with its head tipped 90°, so it looked like it was wondering what was going on.
Karasuma tried setting the letter down next to the bird. The bird did not react. He tried inspecting the bird for any marks or bald spots that might indicate some form of binding or harness for holding mail. Again, nothing. He tried sticking the letter in the bird's beak. Unfortunately, he shoved to hard and the bird started gagging. The bird spit the letter out.
"Just take the letter you damn bird!"
Ruffling its feather indignantly, the owl took the letter and flew off. Karasuma just sighed, and prayed he would never have to go through that again.
=End Chapter=
Note: Chizpurfles are tiny crab-like magical parasites that infest wizarding homes and chew at wands or drink leftover drops of potions from cauldrons. They will also sometimes attack electric wiring. Their M.O.M. classification is XX. A Blakiston's Fish Owl is the largest owl in the world and ranges in color from yellow to brown. It is also very rare. I assumed a big owl would be required for such a long journey (London to Tokyo is a ~12hr flight for a plane, which is a lot faster than an owl).