[See note regarding source FILOFAX.]
[An airy apartment in Ouagadougou, littered with glassware and empty rum bottles. Source FILOFAX lies in bed, engaged in a compromising activity with a young woman. A young man, tangled in sheets, is asleep at the foot of the bed. A knock sounds at the door. FILOFAX sits up, pushing the girl away. He reaches for a light kimono as the door bursts open. A second figure, his identify obscured (henceforth labelled ‘POLLOX’) enters the apartment.]
POLLOX: Having a nice time?
FILOFAX: I thought I’d charmed that door.
POLLOX: Alohomora won’t do much against Department keys, will it?
FILOFAX: I thought simple discretion might work.
POLLOX: Seems like I’m not the one in need of discretion.
FILOFAX: [Sighs.] Well, what do you want, anyway?
POLLOX: That robe on your person and said person in a secure location in 15 minutes. Sober.
FILOFAX: The porch is muffliatoed. I check for bugs every night and every morning. A bit messy, but it’s clean.
POLLOX: Mhm. Need a cuppa?
FILOFAX: Cigarette will do.
[POLLOX steps outside. FILOFAX dresses quickly. He grabs his wand and waves it at the young woman, whose eyes go blank. FILOFAX follows POLLOX to a balcony overlooking a lively entertainment district in Ouagadougou. POLLOX lights FILOFAX a cigarette and places it in his mouth.]
POLLOX: We’ll need to wipe down your, er, minxes.
FILOFAX: Who do you think I am?
POLLOX: That bad, eh? Don’t want your conquests telling the truth about their capture?
FILOFAX: To hell with you. Not many people out there could cast a memory charm that could make those two forget what they experienced tonight. Thankfully I’m blessed with one endowment that can cancel out the other.
POLLOX: Smoke that cigarette and shut up.
[FILOFAX smokes and says nothing.]
POLLOX: You’re going back.
FILOFAX: To England?
POLLOX: Your compass is calibrated a bit south. Or perhaps your time-turner a bit recent. Back to school, that’s where you’re heading.
FILOFAX: I know my skin’s phenomenal, Polly, but I don’t think I can work the schoolboy cover these days.
POLLOX: Of course not. [He reaches into his robe and hands FILOFAX a document.] You’ve receive a job offer.
FILOFAX: [reading it over] Blimey.
POLLOX: You’ll report for duty August 3rd. Though I’d suggest you clean things up down here and report to Level 9 to get things – ordered. [Pause.] There’s some things you ought to know.
FILOFAX: [gazing over the document, bemused.] I’ll say. [He looks up.] Who’s my babysitter?
POLLOX: [grimacing] Me.
FILOFAX: Lovely. We’ll have a jolly time then, won’t we?
POLLOX: [ignoring him, eyeing the bedroom as he prepares to apparate] Make sure everything’s scrubbed raw down here. Or else we will.
THE PENSIEVE PAPERS 