"Oh gosh, that's better." Theta said as she leant back against the bench seat up against the wall of the Leaky Cauldron. It was Tuesday night, and she and old Hogwarts friends, Paul were well overdue a catchup. The two of them had been working long hours at the Ministry as part of the junior staff, Theta on level nine, and Paul up on level one, rubbing shoulders with the important people. Neither of them could speak truly freely about their work, but at least between them they could talk somewhat freely given their common employer. It was not a complete secret that Theta was an apprentice learning how to craft and repair intricate metalwork for time turners under the wing of her uncle, Francis, after all, and a good number of the exciting guests Paul accompanied the Minister with appeared in the Daily Prophet the same day.

She clapped a hand to Paul's forearm as he sat opposite her, and smiled at him brightly,
"So come on then, what's been happening in the corridors of power? It's been far too long since we did this." Paul had been in the year above her at Hogwarts, the same year that Chris, Theta's boyfriend who also worked on level nine was in. Paul and Chris had been classmates and both of them were as clever, if not more clever than Theta.

Theta suspected Paul had seen quite a bit of her father in the paper and in trouble with level two over his interest in flying cars, so she was keen to hear his news, which hadn't made the papers as far as she knew.

To make it in Politics it helped to have connections. A rich and powerful friend or relative who could whisper in the ears of the right people, and make it easier to climb the greasy pole. Paul had none of that. The most influential person any of his family had was a friend of a friend of a Muggle Councillor on the Durham County Council. So Paul had to do it the hard way, lots of graft. And that meant long and unsociable hours at the Ministry, pulling all nighters to make sure work was finished before schedule so he would catch the right people's eye. His aim was to become a Head of a Department, as soon as possible, perhaps he could be the youngest person ever to lead one of the Departments.

But for now Paul could relax. He had met up with his friend Theta, the two had not had a catch up in some time due to their work schedules. Paul ordered Cider. He didn't much like beer, or the more adventurous drinks popular in the Wizarding world. He took a long sip of the cold drink. "Ahhh."

Paul smiled. Although he was fascinated by Politics, there was nothing better than chatting with a friend.  Paul could not truly speak freely, he had signed some pretty important contracts promising not to, and you could never be sure who was listening. "Nothing too interesting, big audit going on. Cuts being made, and the Department Heads are squabbling about every knut as if their life depended on it. Your boss, Gamp, paid me a visit a few days ago. That was a bit of a shock."

"So what are you secretive types doing down on nine then?"

"Mr Gamp did?" Theta asked, eyebrows rising. She hadn't ever held a proper conversation with the Head of her department, partly because he'd only replaced Ward a few months ago, and mostly because she was at the bottom of the hierarchy. Gamp wouldn't want to spend time talking to her, she probably didn't matter.

She raised her own pint of cider - having remembered that Paul preferred to drink it when they'd gone to the bar moments before, she'd made it two, partial to drinking it once in a while herself. It just occasionally seemed a bit unbecoming to have a pint glass in hands so small.

"This financial audit that they mentioned in the paper, right? Taking stock of house. We had to submit an inventory. Have you ever counted cogs that are as small as the nib of a quill?" She held her thumb and forefinger close together and made a face. "Thank goodness for magic - I was able to lay them out and use times tables."

Theta shrugged and sat back, frowning a little at Paul,
"Was it for bad reasons? Do you think we're going to lose our jobs or something?" She asked with worry.