Tuesday, 4 January 2011 @10am

"Zamperia."

Quill's summons came out with a weary breath.  She approached the open door of Mihai Zamperia's office and held a folded lavender note between two fingers up at shoulder level.

"Another special assignment. For you. Directly from Level One. Past me."

She made no move to hand it over to perhaps one of the most experienced Obliviators in the Department. It was the fourth time in as many weeks, and she was getting tired of it.

"You know, I don't get papers - even redacted ones - about these. I don't like it."

Quill Som wasn't naive. She knew loads went on in this government that was deliberately left off the books, but that caused messes and made things fertile for corruption. False reports were easier to correct than no reports at all.  Even though she was above Zamperia in the Department chain of command, she didn't have authority over Level One, least of all the Minister herself, if indeed that was who was ordering these.  She'd need Glass to intercede on her behalf, and she wanted to avoid bothering him with paperwork.

She lifted her eyebrows.

Mihai looked up from his paperwork at the sound of his name.  Quill Som did not sound pleased. She seemed like the nosey sort who liked to know everything that was going on around her-- even if it were none of her business, and didn't affect her any. Or at least, didn't affect her in any ways that were direct or negative. Any work he did for Persepolis Zephyr only aided the ministry.

"Directly from Level One." Mihai repeated, raising his eyebrows. He offered the witch a shadow of a smile, feigned friendliness.  "Perhaps you don't get paperwork because it doesn't have anything to do with the deputy head." The wizard suggested, sitting up straight and motioning towards an empty seat. A silent request for her to sit down, if she were insistent on discussing his assignment.

He bowed his head respectfully, as if he were about to give in and explain all.

"Not everything is documented on paper. Secure things, private things are not. Level nine is notoriously secure, undocumented-- on paper at least." He cleared his throat, "Level one may be taking extra precautions, considering recent events." Like the poisonings, the leaky cauldron explosions, the dead bodies at the theatre... The list went on. There was speculation that there were some corrupt figures within the ministry itself, working with outside forces. Surely, Quill Som knew this. She was a sharp woman.

"None of this matters, however." Mihai continued, voice smooth-- almost condescendingly so. "After all, it came from level one. It's not your place to withhold, or question it."

Quill's face remained stoic as ever. Zamperia's suave passive aggression was no more vexing than a breeze.

"True."

She let her forearm hinge forward at the elbow so that she held the sealed memo out to him. From the door. Across the office. Making no move to actually do him the favor of walking it over.

"I should hardly consider Level Nine to be our role model in terms of fluency and efficiency.  Galleons go in, smoke comes out, ad infinitum."

Quill knew well the threat posed by moles, leaks, turncoats, and corruption and also how easily unaccounted for missions and acquisitions could be spun around. She didn't need reminding from the Obliviator, but she could at least rest confidently they were on the same page.  She was sure he likely found her naive, but she didn't care. There were few of whom she required validation any more. So long as the job got done and the paperwork filed.

"Even secrets need keepers," she said. A favorite adage.

Mihai stood up and leisurely made his way to Quill, stopping just close enough to take the letter out of her hand. It was still sealed, she hadn't peeked at it. He was certain that Persepolis was careful, oh so careful, about the charms placed on specific letters. Did it look suspicious? Perhaps.

But one could not be too careful. He nodded in noncommittal acknowledgement of her words.

"And some secrets are better off forgotten." Mihai replied, smiling wryly. "Thank you, for taking precious time out of your day to deliver this."

A polite dismissal, albeit a condescending one.

"Not at all."

Merlin, he was a smug git, wasn't he? He might have earned the right, but it wasn't to his benefit. She didn't move to leave and it wasn't to make any kind of point. There was more business.

"You were on the I.D.R.E.A.D. advance team Sunday last at Land's End." He was. A trio of Dementors had converged on the winter'd up holiday location. The reports weren't due quite yet, but she had a question not on the form.

"How'd, erm, that new one do? He do alright?" 

There was a new field mediwizard and this had been his first time on a Dementor call. No blood and guts, no unsightly dislocations on these cases. Just vacant, dead stares and limbs frozen in horrored spasm.