⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ (v. a brewing storm) ↳ in which she feels threatened
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'AND THE VIOLENCE CAUSED SUCH SILENCE, WHO ARE WE MISTAKEN?'
British Ministry of Magic, Level 5: Office of International Magic of Law ━━━━ September 23rd, 2000
Saturday mornings at the Ministry were often surprisingly quiet; or at least, less hectic than they were during weekdays. Which is why Asteria had been particularly caught off guard when she arrived to work that morning, finding a small army of news reporters and journalists forming a coalition outside the Ministry's main entrance.
It had taken her a decent 15 minutes of trying to battle her way through the crowd ⎯ receiving several elbows to the stomach ⎯ before she made it into the actual building itself. By the time she finally reached her office, she looked as though she'd been through another war ⎯ slatternly, dishevelled and positively furious with herself for not thinking to buy more Floo Powder when she went out the other night.
Her frustration only grew upon noticing the tower of parchments that laid on her desk ⎯ awaiting her approval before she sent them off to Percy for the final verdict. As if the current workload she'd been given by Robards hadn't been enough to busy her days.
"Ah, Miss Nott ⎯ you've finally arrived." Speak of the devil and he doth appear. Asteria turned just as Robards sauntered into her office with a strut that oozed arrogance, his lack of decency to knock causing Asteria to grit her teeth.
Gawain Robards was a rather stoic man, regarding himself in a manner that wasn't too dissimilar to Lucius Malfoy ⎯ though his arrogance and ignorance were on a different level completely. Being the head of the Aurory, Robards acted as though he held the authority to control everyone within the Ministry ⎯ Kingsley included until the Minister had promptly reminded him of his place.
Asteria could still picture the way Robards had sulked towards his office upon Kingsley's curt lecturing. As a Minister, Shacklebolt wasn't a man of many words ⎯ though Asteria had always been a fan of the way the man savagely, and successfully cut down inflated egos.
"I take it you've read through the file I gave you last week?"
Asteria sighed inwardly, rolling her eyes behind the Auror's back as she shrugged out of her coat; placing it on the silver coat rack in the left corner of the room. He had barely allowed her a moment to settle into her office before he hounded her with work.
"I did," Asteria nodded as she made her way to her desk, pulling out the file he had given her on Wand Tracing. "I just have one question before I pass it on to Percy ⎯ why are you appealing for the trace to only be placed on the wands of ex-Death Eaters?"
