Monday, May 19
8:00am
Full Moon

Niobe Thursby erupted from the floo in a flash of green fire.  She stumbled out into the atrium, tottering slightly in her high heeled boots.  Her quill between her teeth, she tried to pat down and hold back her wild, fuzzy dreadlocks as she kept on through the throngs of Ministry employees arriving for the day.

Her quarry was not difficult to find! He stood a head taller than everyone else, and commanded a presence twice that size.  She took the quill of of her mouth and waved it in the air, trotting towards the imposing South African wizard's back.

"Mr. Gazini! Mr. Gazini! Daily Prophet! A moment of your time, sir?"

She was shoving a little, trying to shoulder past the slower moving of the crowd, still groggy on a Monday morning.  What was their deal? Thursby lived for a Monday morning when everyone she'd had to let alone all of the weekend were now out and about and open to the press once more!  Niobe had been with the paper over ten years and over that time she'd toed the line with just about every Ministry official's personal limitations on when she is welcome to call.  For most of them, they were congeneal enough about weekday interviews.  And, not surprisingly, the same percentage were openly hostile when Niobe called at their homes on a Saturday afternoon.  Or found them in a restaurant on a Sunday evening.  But her quill never stopped and neither did the truth, constantly leaking out of every orifice of all humankind.

She aimed to catch that truth, boil it until it was pure, steaming away anything rotten or wrong until all that was left was pure distilled verity!

And today, she, suspected, it was Mr. Duna Gazini who had the best.  They'd never met before so Niobe thought she'd made a forceful impression.

"Mr. Gazini!" she was finally upon him and tried to stride step for step beside him down the long atrium towards the wand check.  "Niobe Thursby, Daily Prophet.  Probably have read my recent work on Remembering Day, yea?"

Arriving later than usual at the Ministry that morning, Duna dusted off his robes and joined the slow moving throng that was making its way towards wand check. It seemed that ever since the murders on Remembering Day the Ministry wand check was becoming more thorough than ever. Better to be safe than sorry. Of course, Duna was only impatient because he considered himself late - though even at eight o’clock in the morning he was still there early enough to be on time at nine. He sighed exasperatedly and continued to move forward slowly.

He was lost in thought of the matters that he woud be taking care of that day and clutching tightly the portfolio that held his latest discoveries about the Runespoor smuggling that was going on. He was smug in knowing that he almost positively had found the route they were taking through Africa. He was pulled from these thoughts by a voice in the crowd.

His name had been called, though he had been loathe to stop and address the issue as he was shuffled along by the crowd. When the owner of the voice finally caught up to him, Duna shortened his stride that she might be able to keep up with him. He had never personally met the woman but from what he had heard she had a tendency for being quite pushy when pursuing a lead. Of course, any funny business and his staff could just as easily be used for tripping her.

“Ah, yes, Miss Thursby. I read your column often. Refreshing to find a reporter who cares for the truth. To what do I owe the pleasure of your acquaintance so early this morning?” He looked down at her over the rim of his glasses, unsure of what she could possibly want and too polite to tell her to keep her nose out of his business. As imposing as he could be, there was no reason to be impolite. That would porbably only ignite the woman and cause her to start speculating and digging deeper into whatever it was she was reporting on this week.

Niobe smiled, smartly satisfied that the broad-shouldered gentlewizard was living up to his genteel reputation.  She cautioned herself not to mistake his good graces for weakness - he was a heavy hitter for the Ministry even though he'd only been London-side for a short while.

In her hand, upon a small scroll of parchment, her fluffy black quill stood poised and taught at the ready.  It was a Verbatis dictating quill.  It was a very good brand, valued for its accuracy and honesty.  Many reporters kept a quill that would add some stylistic or editorial flourishes, to help them in their writing. But not Niobe Thursby.  She'd purchased her Verbatis from Shrivenshaft's her first day in London over ten years ago and hadn't parted with it for even one day.  She wanted every single word exactly as it was spoken.  Er's and em's and uh's - every single utterance as near to nature intended as magically possible, itched and etched into her parchment. 

It twitched to life the moment she drew breath to speak, beginning in its tight scribblings.

"I don't sleep, actually, Mr Gazini," Niobe said with a shrug.  It was mostly true. Mostly Niobe just napped, usually far to wired to partake of any respite truly restful.

"And judging by your notable activity in recent days, neither do you!  Mr. Gazini, your involvement in the recent Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures investigation into possible Roonspoor trafficking in Britain - well, sir, what can that mean? Have we got an African connection?"

Might as well just be out with it.  Dragons, giants, goblins and centaurs - those were British creatures that Madam Gertrudis was able to keep in house.  But Roonspoors? Those were definitely not native and Duna Gazini's involvement probably meant not only was the connection likely African - but important.

Her quill paused when she finished her question.  She noticed he'd slowed his pace.  She took this as a possible acquiescence to a proper interview.  Maybe he'd have her up to his offices?

It was rare for Duna to give out any more information than he wished to give out on any situation that he was questioned about. Dealing with the press was a skill that came from years of working in the Department of International Magical Cooperation. As an underling if asked you handed out the canned answers that you were “not at liberty to discuss” any matters concerning the nature of your work. As the Head of an entire Office you had more liberty to speak but only just barely. Thus evading answers to questions was something Ministry officials did quite often.

He attempted a laugh which just came out as a scoff when she claimed that she did not sleep, refraining the urge to lecture the reporter about how that would catch up with her one day. She was still young, however, and he assumed that she would learn soon enough what years of no sleep did to a person. Dune knew that life well, but had found that it lacked any form of true fulfillment. Then again perhaps she was simply a workaholic who stayed up chasing leads and attempting to put pieces together to try and fit the larger puzzle.

He was not surprised that she would go directly into what she wanted. There were enough rumors about her in the Ministry and several not-so-pleasant names which Duna had heard. Several people held poor opinions of her. They claimed that while she told the truth she was worse than Skeeter in her attempts to get interviews and the way she pushed for the facts. He certainly respected honesty in journalism, and this made him like her column, but being the star of it was an entirely different matter.

He stayed pensive for a moment before finally settling on a course of action. “Miss Thursby, I do not believe the Atrium to be the best place for this discussion - at least not at this hour. If you will kindly have your wand checked you may follow me up to my office. We can discuss matters there.” His office did hold his map but even his own office workers oftentimes had trouble deciphering all of the intersecting lines running across Africa.  On the way up he might also be able to alert Miss Gertrudis about the reporter’s presence and they could possibly present a united front.

After all, Duna did believe there was an African connection, but he did not think that the reporter would be pleased to imply receive a lesson on African magical creatures. She likely already knew where they were from and their history in Britain as the prized pets of dark witches and wizards. Did she know much about their natures? Perhaps not. Then again, warning the public about these animals would be doing them a great service. His thoughts turned to what he would say and his silence was apparent, he would say no more until they were seated in his office with a pot of tea between them.

"It's a great boon to have a friend of the Daily Prophet at such high standing at the Ministry of Magic," Niobe said, following Duna Gazini into the quickly moving queue to the wand check.

"The wizarding public needs to be able to trust people like you.  So often our public officials keep too much from the ears that information rightly belongs too.  I'm all for careful stewardship of important fact and the graceful revelation of knowledge - " Niobe grimaced at the euphemisms for vain secrecy, "but I think you and I agree the Ministry serves its people and not the other way 'round."

She handed over her wand when it was her turn and she watched her name get scribbled in the log.  She was in and out of here often, but not nearly as often as she'd like.  She smiled again when she was able to report her reason for visit was, "Guest of Mr Duna Gazini, thank ye!"

Then it was too the lifts with them.   She allowed him to lead the way to the busy gold-gated lifts.  Above their heads whizzed a dozen folded paper memos.  Even as a grown witch of journalistic principal, she had the put her hands in her pockets.  She absolutely lusted at the idea of snatched a few out of the air and finding out just what nuggets of information were flying about the Ministry so casually. 

When he didn't speak again, Niobe could be fairly sure the diplomat would keep to his decision to continue the interview in more private environs.  But that didn't mean less sensitive matters might not be discussed.

"Word in Diagon is that Tamis Raynor's the choice to cover Belisario's job," she said.  "No small task entering the fray en media res, eh? But you'd know all about that, of course. Seems the world begins and ends on May 2 these days."

Duna was not entirely sure how to take the comment about his being a friend of the Daily Prophet. Perhaps that term implied more familiarity and trust between himself and the institution than there was logically allowed to be. It was not exactly that he was a friend more that he was not the type to brush off a reporter just like that. He would not wish to be brushed off and so he treated others in the same way. Besides, one never knew when having a reporter on their good side might come in handy. One did not want their name dragged through the mud, after all.

He nodded at her comment about trust, having known all but to well what it was like to live in a place where one did not trust the government or it’s elected officials. That was a dire situation to be in, though he also knew that very few people who were not involved in African affairs, or who did not find them important would have a difficult time recognizing him or his name at all. This was one of the great misfortunes of coming from the forgotten continent. He could stomp around all he wanted and blaze trails and still no one would pay attention lest they followed African affairs.

She spoke great truths, though Duna’s guard was high. There was a reason to hide certain information from the Wizarding public. There was classified information and the essential need for it to stay classified. If the wrong information were to fall into dangerous hands, well who knew what might happen! Every Ministry worker knew that there was a fine line to be crossed between saying just enough and saying too much, though there were extremes of course, the ones who might answer “no comment” to even the simplest question about their day and the ones who would go into long tirades about anything, holding the belief that honesty was the best policy. Duna sat somewhere in the middle, holding a reserved silence until the time was right and fitting.

“The government should always be servant to the wills of the people. Otherwise there would be entirely too much room for corruption and that is when governments crumble and fall, when they forget the wills of even the least of their citizens. After all, most officials are placed where they are by popular vote. There is no position granted by Merlin or birth and while there are appointments for lesser offices, the majority of us have worked our way up the ladder to where we are.” Of course, there were always the controversial appointments, the ones the public would speculate about and never get a real answer as to why the person had been elevated.

He led the way to the wand check, going through first and greeting the worker in a mildly friendly manner, at least he was acknowledging their presence. First his wand and then of course his staff, he knew the ritual well enough, going through it every morning. Once both were returned to him he thanked the worker kindly and moved forward, pausing for Miss Thursby to follow suit. Her excitement as to her reason for visiting made Duna wonder how often she was actually invited up to the office of any of the officials. Though she did seem particularly bouncy in general.

His staff clicked against the floor as he walked with it, as though in need of a cane for support. He moved in a slow and deliberate fashion, continuing to follow the throng of people who were making their way into the offices just barely. A grimace crossed his face as he wondered why he had not arrived earlier that morning. This behavior was unlike him and to be caught in such crowds was a displeasure when what he would really like to do is be up in his office working already. Fortunately they were able to make it into the lift. He entered first, his large body making a way for the smaller woman to enter amidst the others there.

The soft sound of the flapping wings above them and the hushed whispers of other Ministry workers who were in the flat around them filled the atmosphere as the doors closed and the lift began to move slowly. The comment about Raynor was unexpected, he had heard rumors of course but he was not generally kept abreast of the work done in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, nor did he care to be informed on their matters any more than they cared to be informed on any of his. Unless they needed to cooperate it was rare for them to do so. He simply pondered for a moment what to say to that though the energetic witch continued to speak.

“Were Raynor to truly be the one to succeed Belisario, which I cannot confirm,” He paused for a moment, making sure that the reporter knew that he could not give her a real answer. “She would be an excellent woman for the job. Though it will be no small task to take on, especially not with the occurrences as of late.” Everything that was happening recently was fairly unsettling, on both sides of Ministry walls. The inside was just as frazzled as the outside with the changes coming in led by the great crusader Annwyl. While Duna loved the idea of more rights for werewolves he was not entirely sure that the Wizarding public would be pleased to learn about it all after everything was done and there was no arguing about the matter. That might even be cause to some for revolution.

“Soon enough we will begin to celebrate a Wizarding New Year on that date.” A rare joke escaped his lips though there was no accompanying smile or laugh. It was more a disconcerted facade that appeared there though momentarily his brow was smooth again, even as he thought of the events of the last Remembering Day. He could only hope the murderer would be caught and brought to justice. Wherever he was, the Ministry would find him sooner or later, especially with a strong head of Magical Law Enforcement. They would be unstoppable, and catch him they would. Duna had absolutely no doubt in his mind that the guilty man would not be able to be on the run for long.

Even though Mr. Gazini's comments could be considered off-the-record, Verbatis the Quill kept on nimbly. Of course, Niobe could avoid any accusations of publishing anything from this part of their chat, but having a record of their discussion would serve her well later.  Unlike perhaps many of her peers, Niobe didn't claim that her mind was a steel trap.  She relied on notes just like all the other mortals.  And knowing that Duna Gazini spoke a language of a populist Ministry and that he approved of Raynor's (rumored) appointment - well, that might come in handy if either of those stories broke.  Niobe'd know just who to see. 

The lift shifted frontwards and backwards, left right, and of course, upwards and down.  Witches and wizards filed in and filed out, notes flitted in and flitted out.  Soon the soft, posh voice announced Level Five.

Niobe followed Gazini and a couple of others (and a flock of memos) out into the wide corridor.  She started right in immediately.

"From what I've read on Runespoors, they're native to West Africa - has your office been in touch with Ouagadougou*? Have the Burkinabe been receptive to the investigation into the source of our Runespoor? I mean, with Runespoors native to Burkina Faso, that's the natural point to start, right?"

She was pressing, suggesting, showing him that she'd been doing her homework before coming to him. 




*capitol of Burkina Faso.

She launched into questions as soon as they arrived at the fifth floor, which did not surprise Duna in the least. He was grateful, however, that he was aware of the reputation that this woman held before he had spoken to her. A deep breath was taken and he ushered her quickly into his office, resting his staff in an intricately carved umbrella holder that sat in one corner before pulling out his wand. He waved it around trying to get tea going and shook it impatiently, muttering about it the words ‘stupid little twig’ escaping his mouth. Eventually everything settled and Duna was able to sit behind his desk, poised and prepared to answer her questions.

He motioned for her to sit as well and gestured to the pot of tea. If he was going to talk, then he was going to have his tea as well. The large map on the wall had been left on Africa and all of the circles and intersecting dashes in different colors crisscrossed beginning in Burkina Faso and moving from there. “We are cooperating with Ouagadougou. The Ministry there has been most helpful in allowing me to enter their country and even do official work. The transfer of dangerous magical creatures between different countries is terribly problematic.” Not to mention that anyone who would own a Runespoor was probably a piece of work.

He sipped his tea slowly before opening his mouth to speak again. “We have been working with them closely on trying to track the movement of the Runespoors out of their native habitat and to England. The problem is that the Ministries of other countries that are between Africa and England do not think it is their problem since Runespoor problems have been few. It is here that the largest concentration seems to have shown up.” He huffed and shook his head. They were being foolish in his opinion. After all, it would not be long until the traders got wise and started moving Runespoors to every country on the continent if they were not stopped.

The Verbatis quill scratched away in minuscule writing, sounding something like a gramophone with the music all spent out.  It skipped and popped as Mr. Gazini paused or when i's needed to be dotted or t's crossed.  When Mr. Gazini finished speaking, the quill froze, poised to begin again.

Niobe happily accepted the tea with both hands and drenched it in lemon.  She was delighted that Mr. Gazini was being so forthwith about the investigation, even coloring it slightly with his own personal reactions.  Golden!

"I see," she said, processing for a moment, thinking carefully before asking more questions.  "Are there details of our own trade that are making our country an easy destination for Runespoor smugglers? I mean to say, what is it about Britain or its wizarding population that is making Runespoors a problem here? And by what method are the Runespoors being shipped?  Are they arriving live? As eggs - I don't imagine an egg would survive Apparition or a trip by Floo.  Is it reasonable to guess that the Runespoors are arriving 'on foot' as it were?  Is the Ministy on the look-out for packages or persons?"

Now they were getting down to the meat of it.  Just what was going on and just how were the nasty beasties getting Britain-side? She was hoping to be able to publish something that might incite public action - what conscientious consumers might look out for.

“I believe they arrive mainly as eggs. They would last due to their soft, leathery texture. As you might know, Runespoors have nasty temperaments. To try and ship them alive would be foolish. They rarely last long once the third head has been bitten off, which happens fairly often if one does not know how to control the animal. A powerful charm is necessary to keep the heads at bay.” He nodded sagely, a powerful charm indeed. “Of course, the eggs are more valuable. They are highly sought potions ingredients.” It made more sense that the eggs would be shipped as they were than to try and transport live snakes.

Of course there were problems involved even with eggs versus live snakes. “Sometimes, unfortunately, the eggs hatch before they can be used as potions ingredients or people buy them believing that they will be able to control such an animal and find themselves overwhelmed.” That was perhaps the most unfortunate part, and a big part of why the Runespoor population needed to be controlled. There was a reason these snakes were made illegal in England. Any form of trade in the eggs needed for potions was supposed to be strictly controlled and highly regulated.

He pulled a book out from his desk drawer, flipping to the page that held the pictures of the eggs. Placing it on the desk so she could see it, he pointed down at it. “That is what a Runespoor egg looks like. Peculiar because it is laid through the mouth. Not to mention its coming from a three-headed snake.” It was an interesting picture to look at. It would have only been better perhaps if they could show a Runespoor laying an egg.

"As for what attracts them to Britain, I am woefully unaware. Perhaps that our dark experiences are more near than those of others. Runespoors are highly valued among Dark Wizards."

Niobe went for the book hungrily. She sicced her Verbatis on the image and it deftly copied the picture down on her parchment.  While the quill copied, Niobe scanned the rest of the page.

"Runespoors grow that fast!" she marveled.  Then she read aloud: "Once hatched, all three heads will feed ravenously for a fortnight.  Because of the constant food intake, the young Runespoor will easily reach six feet by the next lunar month.  By two months, the serpent will have reached near full size (8 feet), if all heads are still present."

She raised her eyes to the regal wizard Gazini a tense expression on her face.

"Mr. Gazini, how long ago does the Ministry suspect the first eggs were smuggled in? Is it possible we could be soon dealing with a full grown Runespoor sometime soon?"

Another part of her mind was ruminating on what he said about Dark Wizards.  They surfaced from time to time - even Theodora Kingstreet could be considered a dark wizard despite her affinity for the quill over a wand.  They were a dangerous lot, but from what Niobe had heard - organized crime had been quiet in the last year and mostly concerned with gold: not snakes.