Mary Holloway walked purposefully towards the Ministry of Magic break room. Her stilettos clicked against the magic-stone floor, a sharp punctuation to the muted hum of voices and the faraway thud of spellcasting. It had been a trying morning, with fussy tangoing to avoid a very embarrassing wizarding duel from becoming front-page news.
She took a brown paper bag in her hand, the smell of roast chicken and leek pie holding out a second of peace. The break room was a sanctuary—a room in which barristers and Aurors, Unspeakables and Muggle-Relations officials alike all lost their working personas for a while. She walked to an empty table at the corner and sat down in a good-looking chair, pulling out her lunch from the bag. As she unwrapped the warm pastry, she pulled out a slim folder from her briefcase.
Her father, a veteran family law wizard, had handed her the file during breakfast this morning, that knowing glint in his eye. Mary opened it, sloppily holding it against her cup while she took a bite of pie. It was a tricky case involving a disputed piece of property between estranged brothers. Not headline-grabbing drama, but the kind of messy, human problem that her father left to her discretion to handle. She absent-mindedly flipped through the initial news accounts, the courtroom jargon, and personal details of the quarreling family, overlapping the calming hums of the hopping break room.
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OOC: she is hungry and looking over case files someone save her lolol
Having neglected to pack anything that morning, Benjamin stopped to grab coffee and a danish from the Atrium’s food carts before heading down for lunch.
It had been an exhausting day. Even before arriving at the Ministry, Benjamin had spent the early hours of the morning poring over a report. He and a few other Aurors had done reconnaissance earlier that week on a location suspected to be the main source for an illegal potion trafficking ring. It was Benjamin’s job to compile that information. Together with extensive research and a plan of entry, it would be presented to a team of Hit Wizards that afternoon. All of which was being done in anticipation of a high-level bust that would presumably take place on Thursday.
The report wasn’t the only reason he had woken so early. He had dreamt of something odd again. Whether it was a dream or just a dream he couldn’t say. In it there had first appeared a crown of bone floating downstream. Second, the moon, trapped within a woman’s hand. Third, the armrest to an old and worn floral sofa. It was unlikely to mean anything. Even so, the few times he’d had truly prophetic dreams, Benjamin had always wished he’d paid more attention. Now it had become difficult not to.
He was still looking over a detailed rundown of known security measures for the upcoming bust when he reached his usual table in the break room. A woman was already there, flipping through work of her own. “Good afternoon,” Benjamin greeted her courteously. He drew up a chair opposite and took a seat.
A job in the DMLE often brought him into contact with barristers. Sometimes he was called in to give statements on the validity of a defendant’s claims. On other occasions, to present relevant evidence. It was for that reason he recognized the woman as a barrister even before he saw her badge. “Mrs. Holloway, isn’t it? Benjamin Calvert-Duhamel,” he introduced himself.
He set out his own paperwork in front of him, taking a sip of coffee and a small bite of his almond danish. “I trust work has been treating you well?”
Looking at his watch, Bertram was shocked to see it was already time for lunch. His stomach growled at just the right moment to punctuate the issue. Today had been…. A day. Getting to the office early was nothing new, what else did he have to do in the morning? Always an early bird, he woke up before the sun, had his first (of many) cups of coffee, read the paper, shifted through any letters that had been delivered by owl over the evening, showered, got dressed and left for the office.
Walking into the Ministry, it was usually quiet, today had been no different. Arriving at his office, a good sized space with a large desk, file cabinets, a couple book shelves holding legal books for reference, a leather sofa and two arm chairs, Bram put his brief case away and took a minute to finish his breakfast. His house manager having packed two hard boiled eggs, cut up fruit and a fresh croissant. And again, another cup of coffee. Once settled the day could start.
His day started as most did, reading over the owls from various departments, having been culled by his Secretary Beth, prior to hitting his in box. Nothing stood out as emergent, shocking honestly after the last year. The Hogwarts Shake Up had been a huge issue, causing a lot of headaches for every department in the ministry, not just The Department of Magical Education.
The rest of the morning flew by with his staff briefing, meetings about new or upcoming legislation, cross-department meetings to discuss on-going projects and issues, and policy review. Reviewing new or proposed legislation was both his favorite and least favorite time of the day. He loved the quiet time, but combing through pages and pages of legislation was monotonous. After his third yawn, Bram decided it was time for more caffeine and lunch.
Walking out of his office, his assistant Beth looked up with a warm smile. She was a sweet woman, mother of three and happily married for twelve years. “Here you go sir, I ordered in since you haven’t had a second to breathe today.” With an audible groan Bram rubbed his hand over his face, displaying just how tired he was. “Beth, you are a godsend. I wouldn’t survive without you.”
Not taking her eyes off the paper in front of her, fingers typing a mile a minute, she just smiled at her boss and waved him along, “Go, eat. You have forty five minutes before the meeting about the new proposed wand legislation.”
Walking out of the office, Beth still typing away, “cracking the whip Beth! What would I do without you?” He heard the chuckle as he walked through the door, “you’d go hungry and miss your meetings, FORTY THREE MINUTES!”
Bram had a smile on his face as he entered the breakroom. He didn’t eat in his office, Beth wouldn’t let him, mostly because the food would go cold while he kept working. Grabbing a cup of tea, he sat down at an empty table and began unwrapping his lunch. A hot turkey sandwich, bless her.
Just as he took a bite, his eyes met those of the other two in the breakroom. Taking a drink of his tea to wash down the sandwich, he nodded at the others, “Mary, Benjamin, I hope you’re both well.” Taking another large bite, he closed his eyes in bliss. Beth needed a raise.
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