Sal and his team were in the middle of a large room, looking at the final product. It was a strange-looking, cuboid erection of enchanted gadgets and metallic plates, with two elongated and enlarged brooms; one on each side of it.

Other wizards and witches were around it, taking notes, poking parts of it with wands, muttering spells under their breaths, as they observed it.

"The fuck?" Sal muttered in disbelief.

"So this is what they came up with," his colleague commented, sounding amused. Another one, however, remained silent. It was how they were; one talked too much, and the other barely said a word.

"Cut the crap, Binge," Sal finally said. "I'm actually riding this..."

"You volunteered," Binge reminded him, and he heard a sound from Rowle's direction. A chuckle, perhaps.

"Shut up," he replied, his eyes passing the room.

"Let's go," he added, when he found their target. "We need to familiarize ourselves with it."

"Do we have to?" Binge whined. He often did so.

"Shut up."

They advanced toward an older, sallow-skinned wizard who sported a mournful expression on his face. He was reciting to his enchanted quill in a monotone, dull tone.

"...braking charm needs some work, the inertia is far too strong for it. The charm might fail, hmm. It seems the tank gets damaged when the powder starts burning, yes, reinforcement is needed..."

"Bode, mate," Sal started loudly, but the wizard just continued his evaluation. Sal, expecting it, sighed.

"It's pointless, boss," Binge said helpfully, earning a glare from Sal. Rowle, on the other hand, inspected the supposedly damaged tank.

"Yell when you're done," Sal said to Bode, once again to no avail, and turned toward his teammates. "Alright then. Binge, run to Croaker. I don't want to see your ugly snout back till you find out what our target is."

"It's not that ugly," he retorted, conjuring a small mirror to observe himself before obliging Sal's orders.

"Why do I have to put up with that idiot?" Sal asked Rowle but received no answer. "Nevermind. Let's see if we can figure this thing out, alright?"

The quiet chap just nodded, and joined other wizards in the poking of a hideous pile of metal. Sal observed them as they did so, with a neutral expression on his face, going over the doubts he had on his mind.

The structure seemed solid, but nothing DOM created before managed to survive the harsh conditions of space. Wizards usually didn't bother with the space, but the order to do so came from the top, something about the important mission, so they made an exception.

"Navigator," Bode broke him out of his thoughts. Trust him to come up with such a boring title.

"Yeah?" he asked absentmindedly, still observing Rowle doing his job.

"A word?" Bode said, a bit louder. Sal finally turned towards him, amused by his irritation.

"Go on."

"You were informed about the importance of this mission, correct?" he asked and Sal rolled his eyes. Why were older members of the department such a bores?

"Verbal answer, please," Bode said sternly while Sal tried his best not to laugh in his face.

"Sir, yes, sir!"

"Good," Bode missed his humor. "Your mission is a simple one; approach Mars and look out for any astronomical inconsistencies, unnatural happenings, and traces of magic," he droned, and Sal frowned. It was too vague, and that made him worried.

"Any questions?"

"A couple," Sal nodded, and pointed at the ship.

"How does this thing run? I heard something about floo powder?"

"Right," the older man began. "Your charm master will be able to explain to you the enchantments used so I'll just briefly go through the process of it."

"Sure," Sal agreed.

"The floo powder is used as a fuel. It will be ignited at regular intervals, each of which will give you the boost that will take you by, approximately, 2% of the distance, and waiting time between them is five minutes. Brooms are used as controls. You'll use them to circle Mars once there. Clear?"

"The fuck? So powder, once ignited, can't be, I don't know. Extinguished?" Sal asked, and Bode's lips turned into a straight line, in annoyance to his choice of words, Sal guessed.

"Correct," he said at last.

"You gonna tell me more about the mission?" Sal asked bluntly.

"No. I am not privy to more information. My partner on this project, Croaker, is charged with the details. Now, if that is all?" Bode asked, but didn't wait for an answer, as he simply turned around and pulled out his enchanted quill once again.

"Shit," he muttered. He went through his memory, trying to recollect every single piece of information he knew about Mars, but nothing ringed the bell. Astronomically, it was of no importance and any occurrence that could happen around it was natural.

Then, he entertained his limited knowledge of Divination. The bringer of battle, they called it, and Sal wished he could seek out Centaurs to put some light on it for him.

"Boss," Binge finally returned. For once, the younger man looked serious. Sal noticed it, and yelled for Rowle to come over.

"So?"

"So we leave tonight!" he whispered. "What the fuck, boss?"

"Shit," Sal cursed, furiously thinking about the hidden meanings of a sudden change of plan. "What else?"

"I wrote it down for you. Here," Binge offered him a piece of parchment. "Just take it."

A red stone on a red rock

A red rock for a red eye

A red eye under a red sky

A red sky over a red planet

A red planet above them all

Sal read it twice. He glanced at Binge, hoping this was some kind of a sick joke and when he noticed his grave face, he read it once again. He took a deep breath, blinked, and pushed the parchment towards Rowle who took it without a word.

"Binge."

"Boss?"

"Please tell me this is not a prophecy?"

"This is a prophecy," he said flatly.

"FOR FUCK SAKE!" Sal started pacing back and forth. Yet another thing to worry about. "They'll kill us to fulfill some self-fulfilling shit."

"What do you think it means?" Binge asked curiously while Rowle still observed it, a deep frown on his face. Sal shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts, and to figure out the very same.

"Why tonight? Why now?" he thought aloud. "Rubies? No, that doesn't make sense. A metaphor, but for what? What if? OH."

"What?" Binge asked.

"Red planet and red rock may be the same thing, I think."

"And?

"And it means that the prophecy is circular," Sal concluded, but Binge just blinked stupidly.

"Not a Ravenclaw, huh?" Sal smiled fondly, remembering the old riddle. "The circle has no beginning, don't you see?"

It was a simple explanation, Sal knew, and it will satisfy Binge, but his sharp mind hasn't stopped working out all the possibilities lurking in a simple, but unsettling poem. He was no stranger to prophecies for the larger part of their department was occupied by those follies blabbed by drunk potions addicts.

He didn't want to share his worries with a team just yet. The hierarchy in their little group was clear; Sal was the boss and he knew what was best for them.

It wasn't easy, being the boss of a team in DOM, and Sal dreaded it, but someone had to do it and he knew that he was the best for the job. High-ranked officials knew most of the subjects that were studied down here, and they understood the need to keep them in secrecy because most of them were powerful or dangerous. Or both. A good boss, Sal reckoned, knew what to share with his team and what not to because his first and last responsibility was to keep his boys safe, and that included keeping them safe from themselves.

Two of them, Binge and Rowle, were good boys, but young and inexperienced, and they were yet to make a last step in the department; where they encounter something truly tempting, something people would kill for, something life-changing. He observed them, knowing that they will be his only companions on a dangerous adventure.

"Alright guys," he finally decided on the course of action. "Go say your goodbyes, kiss your wives, whatever, but make sure you're here in two hours, ready to go."

"Sure thing," Binge responded casually as Rowle curtly nodded. Sal patiently waited for them to leave the room before he followed, heading for Croaker's office; there was more he wished to discuss.

"Enter," Croaker shouted, after Sal's knock was heard. Sal entered the small office and nodded to him. Saul Croaker was one of the best minds nowadays, an expert on the time and, all in all, one hell of a wizard.

"Figured it out yet?" he asked, much to Sal's annoyance.

"Cut the crap, Croaker, will you?" he said hotly. "This is not a joke."

"I'm aware," he nodded. "That's why we picked you for the mission. Long before you volunteered, in fact."

"That so?" Sal was unimpressed. "Just tell me what to expect."

"We are not sure, but..." he hesitated.

"But what? We're going to a fucking Mars. I'm aware it's dangerous, knowing too much, but you have to give me something."

"As I said, we are not sure," he insisted, but Sal had enough of it. He slammed the desk with his palm.

"I won't let the idiocy of the department to endanger my team! Either tell me what's the deal or I'll curse that ship into the dust! You hear me?" he threatened as Croaker sighed, unperturbed by his outburst. He took out the file, and Sal winced when he saw his name.

"Basal Leroy," he read. "Achieved 12 O.W.L.s and 8 N.E.W.T.s, all of them Outstanding. Said to be brilliant, open-minded, with a knack for solving problems, reported to have strong moral principles, poor manners, and generally chaotic personality.

"Is that really the reason why you picked me? A passable file?"

"A passable file?" Croaker scoffed. "We were aware of you ever since you joined the department, and have kept a close eye.

"Go on, then. Read the next line, look me in the eyes and tell me that it isn't the main reason why you've picked me!"

"No living relations. After observation, only noticeable personal contacts are the members of his team," he obliged, closing the file after he finished. "We picked you because we know that, whatever the circumstances, you'll do the right thing."

"Right thing, my ass," Sal hit the table again, slightly raising his voice.

"And you'll have a little help," Croaker continued, pulling something from a drawer of his desk. Sal immediately recognized the device; it resembled an hourglass on a necklace.

"Time-turner," he whispered, accepting it carefully.

"You know the laws, I presume," Croaker said. Sal nodded, still in awe of magical device in his hands.

"You'll give it to me? Just like that?" he asked, breaking out of his stupor. There was a strange emotion in older man's eyes which Sal couldn't decipher; neither sorrow nor hurt, but something more. Sal decided to ignore it, and opted to try one last time.

"What's up there, Saul? What are you afraid of?"

He waited in silence, for a whole minute, hoping to receive any sort of answer. Anything that would help him keep his team safe. Finally, he nodded in resignation and was about to leave the room when he heard Croaker's voice.

"Basal?"

"Yeah?" he asked, without turning back.

"I'm sorry," he said, and Sal stood there a second more, before leaving the room without a word.

The interior of their new spaceship was even stranger. There was a single window at the front of it, occupying the whole side. It featured three comfy-looking chairs, with a middle one being a bit fronter than others, joined with an improvised control panel. In the middle of the room was a giant periscope, connected to the modified Pensieve, that could make the recordings of what was seen through it.

Surrounding the ship, there were dozens of ministry officials, furiously taking notes and doing last check-ups.

"Five minutes," emotionless voice warned.

"Gather up," Sal yelled, aware of silencing charms around the ship. "We've a little time so I'll be brief."

"What's up, boss?" Binge asked and Rowle sat in his chair.

"This whole thing is a bit... Shit, I've no idea. Let's just say that everything is hush-hush, and I don't like the feel of it so stay sharp and don't drop your guard."

"Copy that," Binge joked, and Rowle smiled a little. Judging by their reactions, Sal knew he didn't manage to present the seriousness of the situation properly and cursed under his breath. He'll have to remain calm for all of them, then.

Last checks were done and three of them took their places, nervously waiting for a countdown. The roof opened, showing the sky, and the ministry staff backed away from the ship.

"Ten," it started.

"BUBBLE-HEAD CHARMS," Sal instructed, putting it up himself.

"Seven."

"POINT-ME, BINGE!"

"GOT IT, BOSS."

"Five."

"IGNITION STARTED. ROWLE, GET READY"

"Cooling is ready, sir," Rowle said, causing Sal to smile. Those were rare moments.

"Three."

"HERE WE GO, BOYS. GET READY!"

"Two."

"One."

Sal hadn't heard the next line because, at that moment, a sparkle has connected with a tank, igniting the powder within it; the first dose of it incinerated instantly, violently throwing their vehicle upwards and causing a deafening explosion.

A process of burning produced a tremendous amount of thick, green smoke that filled the room they left behind in an instant; it spread through it within a seconds, much to the dismay of people who were caught in it and had fits of a dry cough.

In all the commotion, no one noticed two older men, one at each side of the room, raising their wands and beginning to chant. Their spellwork produced more smoke; a gauzy, whitish mist slowly flowed through their wands, merging with a bigger, more obvious cloud that was already there.

Leisurely, they waited until the smoke cleared. As the mist arose, leaving the room visible once again, the unconscious bodies of ministry employees came into the sight of two men, each of whom had a large bubble of air around their heads.

"To work, then," Croaker said grimly.

"Indeed," Bode replied, his wand already raised as he approached the closest person.

Many miles up, where no wizard has ever been, the first dose of powder has exhausted. The ministry-made machine, first of its kind, slowed down. Its occupants wore the same expression of disbelief as they exchanged their spots at the front, to get a better look towards the Earth.

"Gentlemen," Sal started, a small smile on his face. "Welcome to space."

"Merciful magic," Rowle stated gently, surprising the others.

"It looks kinda nice from here, don't you think?" Binge said matter-of-factly, smiling widely.

"What do you mean?" Sal asked, already preparing the course for the next boost, leaving the two of them to enjoy the beautiful view.

"You don't see all the shit going down there from here. It seems... Peaceful?"

"Oh," Sal simply said, but he understood what his teammate wanted to say. Sal, however, had another word in mind to describe the view. It was pure.

"Alright then, grab your seats. We've got a long way in front of us."

They traveled further and further, encountering more celestial bodies, gazing at unseen wonders, and slowly, but surely reaching their destination. The travel itself was highly uncomfortable. The method of it felt similar to normal floo travel, but with a much sharper edge to it; where one would naturally and gracefully land from the fireplace, here he was thrust forward, through the very space and time, and couldn't do anything about it. It felt like a first Portkey travel combined with being hit with Slug-vomiting charm.

Finally, after many more sickening experiences, they set eyes on their destination, and they were all glad for it.

"Switching to manual," Sal warned the team.

"Do we start the search here?" Binge wanted to know.

"Search for what?" Sal muttered. "No, not yet. Rowle, see if there is any damage on the tank and check the charms, will you? And you, Binge, locate Phobos and Deimos. I don't want any surprises, is that clear?"

Positive grunts were his answer, and Sal focused on riding a ship, observing the reddish surface of the planet. Revising the prophecy in his head, he decided it was most probable that their target would be found on the planet, rather than around it.

"Braking charm is in bad condition, sir. We'll have to fix that if we want to land anywhere," Rowle informed him. "Tank is fine, but we've spent much more fuel than we were ought to."

"Is there enough to get us back?" Sal asked what he thought was the most important question. Quiet guy remained silent for a few moments, thinking it over.

"We're few boosts short, I think," he finally decided, and Sal sighed. Trust ministry to fuck up with the dosage, cheap bastards.

"Can you interfere with a charm that sets intervals?"

"Yeah," he said, but Sal heard the hesitation in his voice.

"Leave it. I'll figure it out later."

"Moons are far, boss," Sal heard Binge saying. "Some rocks flying around, but if we keep this course there's no threat of collision.

"We'll be approaching surface soon," Sal informed him.

"No threats there," Binge added, and Sal nodded.

"Sweet. We can start recording then. The sooner we're done here..." he trailed, his eyes fixed on a planet, searching for any kind of abnormality, but finding none. That only served to increase his worry.

"Rowle, take the periscope, get a closer look to that mountain over there," he pointed it out, and started to lower the height, slowly orbiting closer to the planet.

"Binge, a sensor. As wide as you can, but focus on that mountain. Try to get through it. I don't want any nasty discoveries, okay?"

"Got it, boss."

The mountain chains were massive, stretching widely in the dist, with a convenient notch visible every few miles; one of which Sal was aiming for.

"Rowle?" he inquired as they closed the distance.

"Nothing, sir, but dust and stone."

"Binge?"

"Uh, I think I got something, just behind the mountain. Not sure though."

"Rowle, help him. I want to know every inch of what awaits us. Clear?" he said seriously, and it affected his crew. He was happy how they were handling the situation, and was glad they listened without any fuss.

"We're closing in. Hurry up!"

"On it, sir," Rowle grunted, sweat visible on his face, as he concentrated on a charm they were holding.

"EVERY MOMENT NOW!"

"Receiving feedback, just a sec."

"Just talk to me, Binge," Sal demanded.

"Alright, alright, here we go. A boulder maybe? But it has a lot of uneven surfaces, all of them seem flat," he said, stopping to concentrate harder.

"I need dimensions, movements, coordinates..."

"Its height is, um, 20 feet or so, and maybe seven and a half in diameter," he explained. Sal listened closely, his mind going over the possibilities, as he did his best to command the ship closer to the notch.

"No movement," Rowle added. "There's a wold behind the mountain, and this thing is just sitting in the middle of it, a few miles away from the curve."

"Good. We'll get a visible in a minute. Rowle, be ready to ignite the tank in case there's trouble. Binge, to the periscope," he instructed. The edge was close, and they all waited in anticipation, even if it was probably nothing.

At last, they passed through the mountain, when it hit them; it looked like a giant, shiny ruby. Its red surfaces reflected light in all directions, illuminating a plain ground, dust, and rocks that were around it.

"Too bright, sir, I'm receiving nothing," Binge said as Rowle glued himself to the window, gaping. Getting away from the periscope, Binge joined him, putting on the same bewildered expression.

All three of them recognized the stone for what it was at the same time. They never had the chance to see it for real, of course, but they had seen the pictures of it. Milion things went through the Sal's mind after the beautiful, but grim realization. Everything made sense; the Croaker's apology, the prophecy, all of the secrecy around the project...

His attention, however, was swiftly brought to his teammates when he heard Binge muttering.

"We're going to be immortal," Sal heard, and there was a strange glint in Binge's eye, a glint of madness. Rowle took a step back, subtly trying to raise his wand whose tip was already red, leaving Sal in no doubt what kind of thoughts he was having.

In quick succession, he stunned both of his teammates. He approached the window, heavily breathing, thinking about the course of actions he'll have to take.

Their discovery could fix the whole world. It could cure everyone, stop the suffering of all people, and much, much more. However, it was clear to Sal that the ministry wasn't in any hurry to do so, and would not use stone in that manner. To keep it, between the three of them, and to try to use it subtly from the shadows, might be possible if their reactions were different.

There it was, innocently lying on a ground. Its red surface seemed to mock him, as it reflected the light into his face. His fingers touched a little hourglass in his pocket, as he thought over all the options it presented, none of which he found attractive. Deep down, he knew what was the right thing to do, but he doubted he'll have the strength to do so.

"Shit," he muttered his last words for, at that moment, a red light hit him in a back and he fell, unconscious

Sal let out a defeated breath as he observed his own body. He hoped this time would be different, and that his teammates would react differently, but it wasn't to be. He hoped so every time, that his intelligent and capable boys would see the reason and act accordingly.

"No matter," Sal muttered as he took hourglass in his hands and started turning it. "There is always next time."

Back on the Earth, in the silence of his office, Saul Croaker shed a tear as he watched a small pile of papers burning in front of him. Every document concerning the project was there, slowly turning into an ash. The last name Croaker saw on the file was the name of Basal Leroy.

He cried because he knew no one else would do so. No one will remember young Basal, but he will remain up there, in the black sea of nothingness, continuing to guard a price too heavy for mankind to handle. He will do so again and again, until the end of time, for space was not for weak-minded and immoral. No, space was not meant for wizards to explore it.

With that thought, Croaker raised a wand to his temple, his tear already dry on his cheek when he said the incantation.

"Obliviate."

 

Spoiler

I'm... honestly confused? I think there was a philosopher's stone on Mars, or like a heap of it?

The plot is kind of incoherent to me, because there's a prophecy that's being investigated, and then suddenly space and then they are in space through some floo-pseudo science gibberish that I honestly skipped, and then yeah i just started skimming.

The dialogue wasn't very good. A bit too wooden and stilted. I also don't get any sense of characterization between the wizards involved in the team. There are a lot of non-mainstream canon names being thrown out. They started as blank slates and ended as blank slates with a bunch of stats next to them, which isn't great for characterization, or emotional buy in. Also, for their first time in space, there really wasn't a whole lot of emotional impact there. Then the ending with the time turner and the vaguely tragic note to it all which doesn't work because I'm really not sure I'm invested in the characters to feel sorry for any of them.

To add to that, it's sometimes confusing to figure out who's talking since there are multiple people in a conversation but you don't add speech identifiers. And since the dialogue is fairly one note, it compounds the problem. This isn't Tonks and Snape talking, it's a bunch of OCs I don't know and can't distinguish.

 

3895 words

 

Interesting idea! I like the idea of this quite a lot, but the execution could use some polish.

Spoiler

So the summary here is that the Department of Mysteries is investigating a prophecy that they have linked to Mars, and Croaker suspects that it's a Philosopher's Stone up there. Basal "Sal" is in charge of a mission to go and investigate this and he's suspicious because things don't quite feel right. He gets there and his compatriots can't get over their greed and he has to continually knock both them and himself out, using the time turner to reset things, possibly for eternity. Because he's the sort of wizard to do the right thing.

That's a pretty cool idea.

But I felt rather strongly that you had to cut a lot to make it fit under 4000 words, and I think part of the problem is that you cut rather than revised.

I personally enjoyed the description of the floo-broomstick-contraption that got them to the moon. But if you were hurting for word count then you cut have had Sal 'tune out' whoever was explaining it to him and save words there. You could have done similarly for a few other areas of the story. Rather than have us get all of the information along with Sal, he could have the information. And we could go with him as he spends a bit more time dealing with the present situation. It felt rather rushed in terms of what was going on.

The mission itself seemed rushed. Sal appeared surprised that he was going to Mars in, like, two hours. As opposed to two weeks.

Ultimately though I like your concept. Just needs some polish. I don't think that just adding a lot of words would help though - there's some finesse needed here, to clarify some things.

Thanks for entering - this is the sort of concept I'd expected to see, and I'm glad to have seen an entry take this route.