It was well after 8 PM on a Saturday night, and Jonas Trevelyan would have rather been anywhere but at work.  The Auror Office was never completely empty, but weekend evenings were as quiet as it got.  He'd kicked Adon out over an hour before, insisting quite reasonably that nothing more was going to get done tonight, that they were waiting on Adwan and Shirazy anyhow before they could move further, and that they'd both be of much more use in the morning if they got a few hours of sleep.  That, coupled with a few pointed comments about how the women in the Eleor brothers' lives could probably use some reassuring support, had finally worn down his partner's defenses, though his victory had only won him a few scant hours to exhaustedly press on alone in the office before the Aurors assigned to the night shift settled in.

Even in earshot of Adon, he had to admit that the situation was not good.  The more that time ticked on, the less likely it became that Dreogan would be recovered safely -- the more likely it seemed that this whole goddamned bloody mess was ticking on to the unavoidable finale that the diplomat had foreseen in his prophetic dream, or that Dreogan simply would never be found alive at all.  But acting as if he believed that -- allowing himself to give way on this damned situation at all -- would have as good as ended it.  If only for his partner's sake, they had to all press on as if all it would take was a stubborn, prolonged effort to bring the elder Eleor brother safely home once more.

Jonas sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose as he tried to focus on the last few lines of a letter that had arrived from the Near East Auror Office earlier that evening.  The words were beginning to swim, and it didn't help that Khaled Adwan's handwriting made it obvious that English was his third or fourth language.  Trying to make any sense out of the awkwardly formed letters made Jonas wish that he could simply turn on his phone and Google translate the whole bloody thing from Arabic.  The red-haired Auror rubbed tiredly at his forehead, heaving another sigh as he gave the indistinct piles of papers that had come to blanket his desk a frustrated look.  He was clearly past the point where he was getting anywhere.  Maybe he ought to take his own advice and head home.

There was a light sound behind him -- footsteps, which meant someone approaching.  Jonas looked up sharply; if it was Adon returning again, they were going to be having words about the definition of both "going" and "home."

But for once, it wasn't Adon.

"Grace.  Jonas let out the breath that he hadn't realized he was holding, and gave the girl a tired, easy smile.  His brows knit slightly as he looked her over.  He hadn't had much time for the trainees recently -- hadn't had time for much of anything since Dreogan had gone missing the week before -- but he always tried to make an effort for his niece. "Bit late for you to be here, innit?  You on the night shift?"

The winter was a strange season for Grace. She loved the snow and it tended to make her reminisce about family and Cornwall. It also usually made her homesick. Bitterly so because this would be the first holiday without her mother. The sad fact was that Eugenia Eddy had been the glue that held everyone together during these times. With decorations, care packages, food and gatherings.

Or maybe Grace was only thinking she had done it all because the task of trying to fill those shoes felt so daunting. Visiting her father and brother earlier in the day had the wheels turning in her mind as she headed to the office after the train ride back. With so many people in her life seemingly scattered beyond her reach these days, she wondered if Eugenia-like magic was possible.

Work was a worthy enough distraction from all things personal, though. And there was something soothing in trudging through the empty cubicles until she found her own little place among them. Shrugging out of her coat and other winter bundlings, she was about to slide into her chair when she caught sight of someone else with rusty colored hair in her peripheral.

Grace felt a brief wave of regret wash over her when she looked at her uncle. One would think that working in the same office would provide plenty of opportunity to interact on a day- two-day basis. But often Grace found herself avoiding him at work, simply because she did not want to add more to his work load. And because she didn't want anyone to accuse him of favoring her in anyway because she was related to him. And really, Grace did not want to give him any cause to believe she needed help any more than the other trainees might.

But that intentional distance she placed could hardly lessen the fondness and respect she felt towards her Uncle Jonas. She saw how hard he worked and she truly was proud to be related to someone with his experience and knowledge. She knew it was not easy for him to balance everything.

Seeing that there weren't many people around, Grace decided that it couldn't hurt to say hello and see how he was doing. She almost changed her mind when she saw him sigh and pinch the bridge of his nose, but she took a breath and continued towards him.

He seemed surprised to see her and she quickly offered, "I didn't meant to scare you, Uhh--Auror Trevelyan." She flashed him an awkward smile as she briefly remembered some of her first days at work where she had tried to stop from calling him Uncle Jonas in favor of his more professional title. She even once called him Auror Uncle in a fit of tongue-tied-ness.

She shrugged at his question. "I don't mind so much, really. I live in a very auror centric world. Here. Home. They're pretty interchangeable."

Without really realizing it or meaning to, Grace mirrored her uncle's expression, she questioned, "What about you? Don't you have tasks you can have trainees do while you head home for the night?"

Jonas couldn't help but bite back a smile.  To the Auror Office's most recent recruits, the world was clearly divided into tasks that could be delegated to trainees -- namely paperwork and making coffee -- and those that were reserved for Aurors, which were crime scene investigations, arrests, and lounging lazily around the office.  It was anathema to think that there was paperwork that he couldn't hand off to someone.

"Naw," he said easily, shaking his head.  He shuffled the papers before him into some kind of awkward order, setting them down on the desk before him so that he could turn more fully towards Grace.  "This is all inter-Ministry stuff; and besides, if I tried to pass it along to someone else, I'd have to spend nearly as bloody long explaining.  It's far easier to fight me way through it."

Grace hadn't given a direct answer to his question, and the response that she did give -- 'Here.  Home.  They're pretty interchangeable.' -- did not particularly ease his spirits.  Jonas frowned, his forehead creasing as he studied his niece intently for a moment.  He'd known she was living with some of the other young trainees -- that they were all sharing a house together nearby in London -- but he'd never thought about it in those terms before.  For Grace and her friends, there really was no escaping the work day.  And while most young trainees -- and many Aurors, for that matter -- lived and breathed crimson, they usually managed to achieve a bit more of an escape.

"How's it all been going, then?" he asked mildly.  "I talked to one of your housemates a week or two ago -- Abraham -- and I know training's been rough.  The lot of you juggling everything alright?"