The auror office was an area of the ministry Evangeline Kuester hadn’t been in since she was in her 20s and about to be arrested and sent to Azkaban. Back then she hadn’t had to jump through quite as many security checks just to gain entry to the department. Things had definitely changed since her days of working there but life did that.

Nevertheless, the witch gave the wizard on security a cold stare as he checked her wand before her thin fingers grasped it tightly and she stowed it in her robe pocket. She didn’t wait for directions to the specific auror’s cubicle, instead she marched through the double doors and stopped as a mass of cubicles and business came into her blue eyed view. The office was bigger than Eve remembered, or perhaps now she simply found it somewhat daunting. It would have helpef if she even knew what Auror Trevelyan looked like.

Frowning, the witch spotted a young wizard at the coffee pot who was most definitely an Auror in Training. He had the deer at the end of a lit wand sort of look about him.

“Auror Trevelyan. Where can I find him?” The auror’s name rang similar, like she’d met him a few times in the past but Eve didn’t want to give too much thought to that. She liked to steer clear of her past as it brought up exceptionally unpleasant memories. The tattoo staining the skin of her neck was a memory enough.

The teenager looked slightly nervous before pointing the lawyer in the correct direction and she smiled with a small amount of gratitude before following his direction.  The cubicle in question housed a mop of red hair which caused the witch’s brow to rise a nonentity of an amount as he came into view.

“Auror Trevelyan?” Pale lips parted into a smile, bearing her clear white teeth. “I require your expertise. Here is the warrant.” Evie held out a pile of parchments for the auror. “Well…warrants.”

It was a rare occasion that Jonas had five minutes to spend at his desk these past few days.  Since late Saturday night, everything had been a whirlwind.  Running down leads, attempting to liaison with an angry Near East office, trying to keep Adon from throttling anyone or anyone from throttling Adon -- it felt like he hadn't had a chance to sit down since he'd first gotten the phone call.  The world had easily turned on its head, and unless they managed to get a lucky break, it wasn't going to right itself anytime soon.

It didn't help that he had other cases that couldn't be easily set aside.  The Corpus Inversus investigation was still in motion, and they'd only just gotten a lead on the boyfriend of the girl that Rosier had found dead in Knockturn Alley.  Archer was doing what he could to pick up the slack, but shifting out of those investigations wasn't that clean or simple.  There was information to hand over; hunches to document; paperwork to complete.  He had been spending most of his waking hours focused on the search for Dreogan, and so the rest of his responsibilities had been forced into scant, inadequate five minute bursts whenever he could tear himself away.

And so it was a harried, exhausted Jonas Trevelyan that looked up at the neatly dressed lawyer who'd suddenly accosted him.  He stared at her for a split second, his expression drawn as he considered her words, and dismissed her just as quickly.  This witch could require his expertise until someone invented a flying automobile; if it didn't have to do with his current cases -- and he would have known if they'd been ready to file an arrest warrant -- then it wasn't important.  Request denied; moving on.

"I don't have time," he informed her in a curt, clipped voice.  He'd already gone back to the paperwork spread messily on the desk in front of him.  It was a request for a record search on the Knockturn Alley girl's boyfriend -- he scanned it over quickly, double-checking what Radley had written in.  "Go find whatever Auror requested your warrants.  They'll be able to help."

Aurors. Evangeline had very nearly forgotten what self-obsessed arrogant wizards they were. She’d had experience dealing with them. For several years she’d been forced to be on their backs about issues and make sure they were resolved. But this was many years previous. This was before she’d been taken by snatchers and thrown into Azkaban. This was a lifetime ago when she’d been a rather unhappily married woman.

But of course the auror would refuse to do his job. It was their destiny to refuse people, make lives harder and just be plain ignorant. Eve’s lips pursed as she watched the redhead not even glance at her warrant and instead turn his attention to obviously more important work.

“I am not prepared, Auror, to inform the Near East Ministry that one of our incompetent aurors didn’t have time to make the simple arrest of someone they’ve been demanding for a month now.” Eve knew she was treading on delicate ground. Protocol suggested she should have gone through the auror’s head of department. She was technically required to speak to the wizard calling himself the Head of the Department of Law Enforcement but Kuester was well aware that the attitude she was receiving from Trevelyan would appeal friendly and willing compared to that of her unpleasant ex-husband.

“Unless tu souhait to go and explain at your head of department why you do not have the time to arrest someone that could very help you with your present work while in our custody.” The witch, in her irritation with the wizard began to confuse her language.

The witch's words barely registered.  Even Near East Ministry could go in one ear and out the other these days, as far as he was concerned.  The events of Sunday had not made him a particular fan of Adnan Musallam, and if Jerusalem's Head Auror suddenly expected a favor in return for de-escalating the potential disaster, well -- he could bloody well wait his turn in line at this point, because Jonas wasn't feeling particularly indebted in return.

He barked out a laugh, giving a thin-lipped smile as he kept his eyes locked on the document.  As far as he could tell, it looked ready for approval.  He flipped to the last page, signed and dated it with a flourish, and then moved on to the next piece of parchment in the messy pile.  Another record request, this time for Gringotts.  Load of luck they'd need in ever getting that one, even with a warrant.

"Mr Rosier usually expects us to make an appointment in advance for that sort of thing," he replied, with dry, uninterested humor.  "Tell you what -- you go explain to him whom you want me to arrest, and he'll decide whether or not it's worth us spending the time, yeah?  Go back to the hallway, third door on your right.  Just check with his Welcome Witch when you get there and ask her to make certain that he's already wearing trousers."