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Tuesday, July 13, 2010
1:00 p.m.

"I'm sorry, sir, but you need clearance to access Mr. Warren's files."

Lance frowned, glancing down at the drawing he had made of the man at the masquerade, pulling the one beneath it out and placing it on top, speaking in the same voice he had been since last night, a voice with a German accent. "Vell, surely a slave's file qualifies as public record."

"Yes, sir, it does, but I'm afraid I don't know who she is."

"Isn't dere some photo index for de slaves at de manor?"

"Not that I have here, I'm afraid."

Lance sighed quietly to relieve some of his frustration. His usual mask of emotionlessness was no longer present. It was obvious he was upset; it was as clear as the frown on his lips. "Den get me whoever I need to speak vid to view Mr. Varren's file." The young woman began to protest, but the young man cut her off. "Get de person. Now."

"Yes, sir. Right away."

Figured it would take a sense of authority in his voice. Seemed to do the trick at times. "Danke."

"I'll have to send Miss Calloway an owl."

Lance leaned over the desk, smiling sweetly at her and glancing at her name on the tiny plaque. "Heidi, vy don't you let me do dat? Write it, I mean."

"If you insist,"
Heidi replied.

"I do," Lance said, the smile gone and his tone and demeanor all business, no frustration or emotion evident.

She gathered him a piece of paper and handed him a quill. He took both, telling her, "Danke." He looked down at the blank bit of parchment and lightly placed the tip of the quill to the paper. "Miss Calloway, you said?" he glanced at the girl who nodded.[blockquote]"Dear Miss Calloway,

I have an issue of a personal matter with one in rank in your country's government. I need to find information on him. However, his file seems not to be public record. I wish to speak to you about th ematter immediately. Thank you.

At your mercy,
Fredrich Zimmermann"
[/blockquote]Lance neatly folded the parchment in thirds and held out his hand with expectation to receive what he desired. "An envelope, bitte." The girl handed him one and he wrote "Miss Calloway" in flowing, neatly slanted cursive before sliding the letter in and sealing the envelope. He handed it back to the young woman who went off to send an owl off with his letter. Lance chose to sit down, smoothing his robes, which he'd "borrowed" from his father's closet. He wouldn't miss them; he had over a dozen. He ran his hand through his brown hair, which was, for once, without gel and flying free. Any day now this Calloway lady would be here.
Things never stopped at the ministry. In her department it seemed every day presented a new challenge and a new hurtle to leap. For her employees Morgana was sure everything looked like complete chaos. She and her department in the cabinet had a lot of responsibility after all. They had to monitor all the papers, write press releases for the family in power, make sure the papers were to the family's liking. They had to keep public records in check and keep certain information in them classified. It was a department of discretion and care. Half of her employees had been exposed to memory charms and one time or another or were requested especially by her straight out of school. She had the best of the best, the creme de la creme of all the student because in truth this was the real battle front of their cause. The brute force of course was important, the guard played their role, but her people did all the important defensive work- something no one truly knew the extent of and something Morgana took great pride in.

It was however a never ending battle and today was no exception. Her secretary was to direct all owls directly to the office unless it was of urgency. No one was to speak to her because while the department was always efficient and ready to work for the lord should the slightest thing go wrong, which they saw to it that it never did, they were dangerously over worked and close to getting behind. Morgana was seeing the danger signs but until they trained the new students coming in as of graduation there was little to do about that. Of course those students were the other reason they were close to being behind. She had to pick those students tomorrow and that required a lot of preparation. Something she did not necessarily have time for but one priority that had to come first, after all, the youth were the future of their organization.

A small smirk crawled slowly and dangerously across Morgana's bright red painted lips in stark comparison to her pale white skin. Her eyes were the only other thing of color on her face, a bright blue to match the light blue suit she had on today as she was saving her more official ministry robes for tomorrow's visit to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, something she was honestly, with the smallest extend she could manage, looking forward too. But that was tomorrow, today she had to leave instructions and prepare everyone for her absence the next day as well as prepare herself for the process she faced. With only that focus in mind Morgana strode with her usual feminine confidence into part of her department, the hall of records, amidst a flurry of notices to be filed and followed the bright papers out of the elevator.

The hall of records was one of the more quiet areas in her department. It was merely an archive of history past, people to be watched, various other political and historical documents, and then documents kept under lock and key. It was the student dossiers that she was in for today, however, she had some other things to attend to here as well. Morgana quickly took stock of what the few employees of this department were doing and noticing the lack of efficiency and movement in the area. A small sigh of dissatisfaction crossed her lips as this was made apparent by those nearby avoided her gaze and hid what they were doing. She would have to have a talk with some of her more trusted heads of department-this was not only unacceptable but completely pitiful.

Few visitors were seen, a few looking nervous, some were arguing with front office clerks, others just sat in silence waiting for their documents looking in boredom around them. Only one stood in perfect silence with no expression. He looked young and wore fine robes that made Morgana think he was very well off. Still, she had no appointments today and as he was not waiting for a document she could not think of what he was doing.

An owl landed on her shoulder at that very second. It was a finer barn owl but certainly one that belonged to this office and only was supposed to be used in case of emergency. Another small sigh escaped Morgana's tightly pursed blood red lips as she reached up and removed the letter without looking. She rolled her eyes and dismissed the owl before striding up the the room that would allow her to safely get up to her private room. She had to wait for the door of course and that left time for those who dared to get to her before she got to safety. First thing she was doing was figuring out who gave the authorization for this letter to be sent and having them talked to....
Lance Ulrich, pardon, Fredrich Zimmermann, stood alone in the waiting room. He had refused to sit back down after watching Heidi send the owl. This fact seemed to unnerve the woman in his observation of her as she tried to carry on with whatever the hell it was she actually did here. She had to have a reason to be on the payroll other than to sit and look pretty and welcome visitors and give them the requested records or deny them access, and he had a feeling she was probably able to handle more than what she appeared to be able to. Why else would they place her in her position where it was always possible that someone could become forceful to attempt to get to forbidden records? Either way, the woman was of no importance to him. He was merely standing here because it was cooler in the heat of this summer day. He almost wished he could be returning to the cool, open hallways of Hogwarts tomorrow, but as it was, it was still a few more weeks. Then, he could say goodbye to his father's home and his childhood forever. This was to be his final year, and he would make the most of it.

"How long do you think--?" he began to ask Heidi when his eyes fell on a woman who seemed to have just received a letter--his letter, judging by the handwriting on the front that read, "Miss Calloway." He scowled slightly in disdain as he watched her simply dismiss the owl and not even bother to open the letter. What if it had been some important bit of news? Or something chaotic going on somewhere? Honestly, the woman needed to have her head checked. Even if there was as much a possibility that it was nothing important, there was still that possibility that it was. Oh well. It wasn't as though he could simply just walk up to her and start telling her off for something like that. It would not get him what he wanted: the identity of the man in his drawing.

As she came to a stop to wait for the door, Lance saw his opportunity to gain her attention. Naturally, as he tried to push his way behind the desk, Heidi protested, but he told her she was foolish if she believed he was going to cause any problems. Still, the woman made it known she did not approve, but he made his way over to Morgana. "Pardon me," he began as he approached the blonde in the blue robes. "I could not help but to, uh, notice dat you have de letter I sent. Are you Miss Calloway?" he asked, making certain that his accent was flawless. There was no way he was going to be found out on account of that, no way on earth.
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