A Woman Of Ice

LXXIV- Just An Intern

Two Days Later

"Cal," Diana called, as she rushed into Greyhill's office with a thick stack of handwritten field reports. "These are everyone's reports, stapled and checked through," she announced with a tinge of bitterness in her voice.

Unfortunately, she hadn't spotted the Aurors Collins and Tate standing in the corner.
"Oi, look at those legs!"
"Watch her go!"
Calvin Greyhill glanced up at them sharply. "Oi! Did you two wankers learn absolutely nothing at that sexual harassment seminar?" he snapped irritably. "Honestly. At times, you two are such f**king Neanderthals. Black here is legally 15, you know."

Collins and Tate nearly sh*t themselves from both shock and laughter.
Diana glanced up at Greyhill, horrified. Her face was ghostly pale; Killer Frost pale. "Cal...."
"Oh, sh*t. I wasn't supposed to say that, was I?" he sighed. "I am very.... very sorry, Diana."
She only sighed. "It's alright. Word would've gotten out sooner or later anyways. You know how these things usually play out," she said dismissively.
"I'll tell you what, Black. I usually only do this on birthdays and special occasions, but why don't I try and make this up to you with a drink down at the pub. I mean, you can drink right?"he asked awkwardly.
Diana chucked with a nod. "Yeah. I'm in. Free food and drinks will pretty much always get me. I'll meet you in the hall. Floo Powder, yes?"
The young man nodded happily. "Yeah. Sounds great. And again.... that was really careless of me," he apologized.
"Don't worry, I won't stress it. I've dealt with worse," she nodded in reply.

Greyhill watched in bewilderment of this girl. She was unlike any intern he'd ever met, much less someone her own actual age. He was beginning to actually contemplate revealing to her his secret.
"So.... we're the disgusting ones, eh?" Tate asked.
Cal immediately frowned. "Shut the f**k up."
"O-kay, sir."

****

Later that day, just before the day was through, Diana Black was calmly in her small office, reading through Greyhill's non-urgent mail, which the man himself was to busy to bother reading through. Diana was doing paperwork since the field work for today was quick and simple; at least for her. Everyone had chosen to "go easy" on the intern. Diana absolutely hated that that was what she really was. It made her seem ditsy and helpless. Just then, Diana opened a letter, an odd one. It was addressed anonymously. It must have been important, for it to be addressed anonymously all in stamp. But then again, it was put as non-urgent. Inside of the large envelope were two different sheets of paper put together. Oh God, Diana thought, worried. They were Ministry of Magic employment records; Calvin Greyhill's. The first was very odd. Certain information had been redacted and not written. It seemed like a lot. Even Greyhill's age was redacted from the file. It all seemed off. Then Diana read his age and something was definitely wrong. His age, according to the second paper, was fifteen years old. That couldn't have been right. The man sitting in the office not too far from Diana's was at least in his early twenties. He did not look nearly as young as the records claimed. But then again, neither was Diana. She felt a sick feeling in her stomach and did not even feel the need to read through the rest. She immediately picked up the sheets of paper, marching them over to her boss's office. Collins and Tate eyed her suspiciously as they talked at the door of Tate's office. Diana sensed their presence this time and threw back her arm, mercilessly flipping them off.
"Greyhill, what is this?" Diana asked, pushing the papers toward him on top of the desk.
Greyhill quickly picked them up, skimming quickly through them. "Diana...."
"Don't f**king talk, Greyhill, explain. Do the others know about this?"
He sighed. "No...."
"Why, Greyhill? Why? And why do I get the feeling that something f**king weird is going on? Because I'm not sure how old you look, but you definitely don't look fifteen."
"I can explain this, Diana. Just.... please, wait until later; don't tell the team about this yet. Just give me at least today, that's all I ask," Greyhill begged.
"Fine," she nodded. "I'll hear you out."
"Thank you," he nodded. "We can get off early today, you and I. I'll have Simmons and Belafonte cover. Now, why don't we head to the pub?"

Diana nodded silently, grabbing her jacket, locking her office, and walking toward the elevator with Greyhill. Who knew who she was truly standing next to? Was he even really Calvin Greyhill? Diana almost dreaded finding out.

****

The two of them stepped into The Leaky Cauldron, as Greyhill ordered drinks for them.
"My father doesn't think this place is classy enough, but I think it's just fine," Greyhill smiled as he accepted his drink from the barman, Tom.
"Enough with the stalling," Diana interrupted as she sat beside her boss. "Why are you listed as only sixteen?"
"You see, the thing is.... it's stupid, quite ridiculous, really...."
"I've heard worse, I'm sure," Diana nodded impatiently.
"Right. Erm.... a few years ago, when I was twelve, I wanted to try Firewhisky, like any other young boy wanting to rebel. But unlike many young boys.... I had connections, through my father. And so, I was able to buy myself an aging potion, no questions asked, but it was a faulty one you see. The thing is, with those aging potions, the older they get, the less reliable and even more potent they become. Instead of aging me five years, it had aged me by fifty. Not wanting my father to see what I had done, I tried to reverse the effects myself, and didn't come home for hours. Once I did, my father of course saw this, so he rushed me down to St. Mungo's. Since it had been hours since I had taken the potion, it's effects had become more and more permanent. They were only able to reverse most of the aging; I got lucky. But I still look about six years older than I actually am. Ever since that incident, I've absolutely loathed our unfair advantage and wealth even more than I already had," Greyhill explained with shame.
Diana nodded slowly, laughing. "Wow."
Cal Greyhill attempted to hide his grin at her remark. "What, do you find my mortification and grief amusing, Ms. Black?"
"'Ms. Black'? I already told you that you can call me by my first name or something. You getting tired of me?" she teased.
"No, the exact opposite. I was beginning to think that you had lost respect for me, hearing my ridiculously stupid anecdote. I was hoping to preserve at least some of it," he laughed, still embarrassed.
Diana glanced down at her arm resting on the counter of the pub, and then looked up with a smile. "You know, I think you're alright after all. It's alright. I can understand your situation, I mean, as far as making a stupid decision that impacts the rest of your life."
"Why? What did you do, the perfect Diana Black before me?"
She chuckled. "Believe me, I'm far from perfect. That stupid thing I did?"
Cal gestured excitedly for an answer.
"I died."
"Oh.... well, I suppose that trumps purchasing sh*tty potions," Cal nodded. "Wow, you even beat me at being stupid. Well, here's to stupidity."

And the two toasted, followed by Greyhill's smile.
"You're not just any intern, are you, Diana?"
She shook her head immediately. "No. No, I'm not."
Greyhill nodded appreciatively of her. "Well, I think I'm going to enjoy getting to know you, Diana Black."
Diana nodded. "Who wouldn't?"

Diana realized that she and Greyhill, two people who were trapped in bodies that weren't truly theirs, were practically staring at each other through glass. It was strange, really, but even beneath the older shells, she felt as if she could still see the person inside. Just a kind, normal guy dealt a sh*t hand. He was an easy person to have a conversation with, so Diana didn't even notice the next four or so hours go by. The odd wizard drinks definitely helped that cause.
"I can't believe I didn't ask; where are you staying while you're in London?" Cal asked curiously.
"Uh, Pendragon Accomodations," Diana nodded with a smile. "It's really nice."
"And expensive!" Cal Greyhill exclaimed unnecessarily loudly.
"Hey, you're not the only one here with money; I'm a Black and I suppose adoptive Potter, plus I've got Dumbledore on my side," Diana explained.
"Ah," Cal nodded. "Well, what if I told you that I knew somewhere even more luxurious, that didn't even charge?"
"Oh? Where's that?" Diana asked expectantly.
"That would be my flat," Greyhill slurred.
"Your flat?" Diana asked skeptically. "Is that even.... allowed?"
"Of course it is," Greyhill laughed. "Ministry employees do it all the time."
"Well, I suppose that makes sense, and it would save a lot of money for Dumbledore," Diana nodded. "I'm in. I just have to move. I'll write a letter first thing tomorrow," she nodded.
"Perfect. Now.... I say we head back before we get too f**ked up," Cal suggested. "My place, it has all the extra rooms you could possibly need."
"Oh, we're fine. It's you that I worry about. I mean, to be fair, I'm a demigod," Diana shrugged.
"Come on! You're just as bad as I am right now!" he protested.
"Yeah, but I won't be feeling it at all in the morning. Let's go, we have to be in early tomorrow," she called as she got up and headed for the door. "Are you coming, or what?"
Cal Greyhill nodded. "I'm sensing that anywhere with Diana Black has got to be some sort of adventure."