Four o'clock in the afternoon


Solomon Carstairs loosened his bow tie and attempted to retie it, staring perplexingly at the mirror in his office. He was due at the Royal Opera House later that evening - one of those exorbitant affairs his wife insisted on attending every so often - and had just been brought his formal robes to try on for the event. In the reflection, his bespectacled gaze sliding from collar to the desk in the background.

Always, like clockwork, the tea things. He'd told his assistant... one of them... to stop. It was most vexing when he actually felt like having tea.

The door opened, slamming against the wall as a figure in red strode in."She's crazy, she is!" exclaimed Auror Childs[1] with a face to match his robes and blonde hair sticking up in odd directions. "I said, I did, I'm taking a nap at me desk and I'm not to be disturbed, and of course she--"

With a weary sigh, Solomon undid his tie again and turned around to fix the wizard with a dry look. "Oh please don't tattle Childs, I'm not office mother."

He was already missing Pratt (his wife would laugh) who might not have yet been replaced and was still doing the odd job at Head Auror, but was not entirely treated as occupying the position. Childs clamped his mouth shut and his cheeks flushed irritably pink.

"It's the Elliot witch isn't it? Send her in, long overdue a talk-" Solomon begrudgingly added before one of them could have a conniption. "- and do something about your hair before Lil Snigger decides to write about our deplorable state of dress."

Childs disappeared in the whirlwind with which he arrived, and there was a bit of a wait as the Department Head returned to the mirror for another try at the bowtie. He was hopeless at the particular Charm it took to do this - Irene had spoiled him, really, with her own finesse.

Maya Elliot was at the doorway just as he was failing his umpteenth attempt, and Solomon gestured for the door to be shut behind her. He addressed his assistant, eyeing her in the reflection while the tie came undone once more. "Miss Elliot. Take a seat if you'd please," his lips twitched into an amused smirk. "And help yourself to tea."

1.

NPC

Maya Elliot was facing a frustrating and annoying conundrum at work. As a personal assistant to a head of department, aurors, hitwizards and the other workers saw her as a non intelligent tea maker and lackey to their boss. They presumed she was a young witch who’d not shown any ambition and had settled for a road to nowhere job because that was about all she could manage. That meant that not only was she ordered about by her actual boss, the aurors tried to have their fun and assert some of their own superiority as well.

This morning, the young assistant lost her rag with one particular chauvinistic moron and was therefore not surprised to end up in Solomon Carstairs office to be faced with her grumpy boss. What she was mildly surprised by was his state of dress; far more formal than an afternoon at the office.

“You’re gonna’ get it now, you stupid girl.” Auror Childs had very kindly told her to got through to the office. He stunk of coffee and stale breath.

Stood in the doorway for a moment, dark eyes flew over the attire of her boss. He’d been unable to tie the bowtie.

“Of course, Sir.” She moved into the room, letting the door click shut behind her. She chose not to mention the tie yet, and instead poured two cups of tea.
“Before you say anything, Mr Carstairs,” The witch began, speaking plainly; she wasn’t getting into trouble over this moron. “The coffee wasn’t hot enough to scold and that…” she paused, lips pursing as she considered her manner with the wizard she worked for, “Auror Childs needs to learn to keep his hands and comments to himself.”

Solomon slid off his bow tie as he turned from the mirror, leaving it undone on a side table before he returned to his desk. A slight flick of the wand and the tea things began to serve for two - an afternoon brew with shortbread biscuits, bit of a honey in his own cup. The wizard sat down with a heavy sigh.

Between the kidnappings and the absolute disaster that was Mortimer Gamp's culpability, it was difficult to care about something as trivial as intradepartmental squabbling.

Except he knew that Level 2 needed to get along if they were going to be running efficiently over the next few months. Solomon could feel it in his bones, having lived enough years to recognise the onset of a great conflict coming into being. So when Maya Elliot brought up the coffee and Childs' clearly sexist behaviour, Sol could only smile wearily at her.

"Does he now? I can have a word the gentlemen later if you feel thus harassed. And I would advise using hotter coffee if you truly wish to discourage him," he collected his tea cup and sipped gingerly; it was well brewed. "Now tell me. Did you always set proper tea places at your previous place of employment or... was this in the job description we put out?"

The department head indicated his desk, the fine china and dainty silver spoons. You would think Dolores Umbridge had taken a position here - he was much too used to paper cups or ceramic mugs that did not match.

As far as bosses went, Solomon Carstairs wasn’t a bad one to have. He was fair but as the department head of magical law enforcement, being under an extreme amount of stress, there were times it was definitely best to avoid him. The days around the kidnapping and reappearance had been one of these times and she knew just how frustrated he’d been where she’d still refused to stay late in the office or arrive early. Carstairs no doubt simply thought she couldn’t be bothered yet she still wasn’t eager to share with him that she was a 23 year old single mother of a one year old.

As she took her own cup of tea, a smirk twisted the young witch’s lips. She didn’t need help dealing with Auror Childs; he had just felt the need to moan about her to the boss. Maya could fight her own battles.

 "Now tell me. Did you always set proper tea places at your previous place of employment or... was this in the job description we put out?" Carstairs was sat back in his chair having given up on the bowtie he’d obviously tried to tie. Maya sat herself down in the chair opposite, having a feeling she’d be longer than a couple of minutes in the office.

“Sometimes you just look like you need a pick me up, Sir, and since it’s too early in the day for alcohol.” She gave a shrug and a small smile before blowing on her tea. “Please don’t have a word with him, I can handle auror Childs.” The next sentence came out without much thought “I already deal with one child…”

Solomon raised his eyebrows as he took a long drink of his tea, unimpressed by the fact that he must look patently depressed if even his young assistant seemed to think these niceties were necessary. Or that she thought he was some form of alcoholic if he were to resort to a hard drink every time things went south.

“I already deal with one child…”

He chocked on his tea.

"Excuse me?" Solomon managed between coughs, setting down cup and saucer to look at Maya severely - clearly caught off guard. "Are you implying that I'm a child? I hardly think my behaviour merits the comment!"

The nerve of Miranda Elliot's daughter! Not that he was completely surprised, as perhaps they were both blunt personalities.

As soon as she said it she regretted it.

Solomon Carstairs nearly choked on his tea and fixed her with a stern glare. He thought she meant him!
Even if she thought it she’d never say it.

Dark eyes widened in horror and she clamped her hand over her mouth after an exclamation of “Shit!” Then she screwed her eyes shut and shook her head. Swearing only made it worse.
“No. No I didn’t mean you Sir.” She wanted to floor to swallow her up. Instead she had to fix her boss with an embarrassed gaze and shake her head.  “Flaming bat bogies!”

To stop herself knocking it over in her sudden fluster, Maya put her tea on the desk between them and brushed her hair out of her face.
“I’m sorry. I genuinely didn’t mean you. That would be…terrible. I meant…” she searched frantically for an answer. “I’m sorry.”

Perhaps profuse apologies would beat digging the hole deeper.

His assistant did appear to be legitimately horrified by what had passed through her lips - Solomon could not tell if this was because she had not meant it, or if she simply had not meant to say it out loud.

"Didn't mean me? Do you have other charges?" Solomon adjusted his spectacles, clearing his throat fussily. "I expect insubordination from my Aurors, Miss Elliot, not from you."

He frequently sent those wizards and witches into the jaws of death. The worst thing the young witch had to do was ensure that the liquor cabinet was stocked and his paperwork organised in some comprehensive manner. Solomon sighed tiredly, picked up a biscuit from the tea tray but did not eat it.

"It's enough that you refuse to stay late, considering these... dark times that have come upon us. Most other assistants don't return to their homes until their superiors have," he half-smiled at Maya. "But if you have other priorities, it might be better to find a post on which the laws of wizarding society do not rest."

Very quickly the situation was flying out of Maya’s control. One minute she’d been sat comfortably expecting to be receiving some case files and instructions from her boss and the next her job suddenly felt on the line. Maya sat there, feeling like a spectator in the sudden reprimand that it felt like Carstairs had been storing for quite a while. The colour drained from her face as the tea sat on the desk forgotten about.

As she listened, lips parted and she watched the wizard nervously.
“No, no Sir I don’t want that. I want to be working here. For you. In law enforcement.” But it seemed he didn’t want her working there all of a sudden. She knew she should have taken a stupid job in a diagon alley shop. They wouldn’t have needed more than she could provide. “I just can’t stay late, Sir. You can’t penalise me for that.”

This discussion, Maya knew, had been months in the making. She’d been pretty daft to think she could go through her whole time working for Carstairs without it coming up.

“As I said,” Maya frowned before her dark eyes met his, “I do have my own child to deal with.” Her arms were folded nervously and she gave a small shrug.

It was true - he couldn't technically penalise Maya for not staying late. No doubt someone would file a complaint as it wasn't an appropriate failure to perform; but level two practically sustained itself on Ministry employees who gave more than was expected of them by typical work conditions.

"Your own child." Solomon repeated as what she was saying finally set in. Maya Elliot was a mother... which made Miranda Elliot a grandmother. For some reason that made him want to laugh; he didn't. "And I recall that you are unattached."

A single, working mother then. Why had he not heard about that before? None of his business perhaps, even if it interfered with her ability to stay late with the others...

Solomon bit into the biscuit and swallowed the bite whole, crumbly and dry. "Do you invest in daycare services? A nanny?" his child-rearing days were long behind him now but he was a proper parent for at least two of his children. The legitimate ones.

“And I recall that you are unattached.” That was a better way of putting that the father had left her to raise Katrine alone. Attached made her sound free, unburdened. Carstairs was trying to get his head around the new information and Maya was trying not to kick herself for owning up to it. She’d kept it to herself for fear of being judged. Now she could tell he was judging.


Upon being asked about day-care, Maya felt the conversation had gone from unpleasant to downright uncomfortable.
“She’s only 15 months old. My grandparents help when they can and I pay someone to take her when they can’t.” Where this talk was taking them, Maya wasn’t sure. Was he about to sack her for lying to him and never being available for overtime? Would he feel sorry for her and leave it rest? She didn’t want either. “So I can’t just spring it on them to keep her late at night. I’m not around for her enough as it is.” And she felt very guilty about that.

“Her dad was around until October,” Maya decided to continue while she was being honest. “Apparently fatherhood was too much and he just packed up one day and left.”

Hardly over a year old then, the little one.

That did make things more difficult. Solomon was about to request the witch fetch him one of the folders from his file cabinet but decided against it, looking around uncertainly before rising from his desk while she spoke. He was an absent father for at least one child[1] and although they had never wanted for any material thing, Sol knew that it was... a morally untenable position to take when you abandon your own.

"You should have mentioned sooner," the older wizard muttered and slid open the topmost drawer of the cabinet. "I don't see what you could possibly stand to benefit from omitting such information."

After a bit of efficient flicking through the folders, Solomon pulled out a thick file and returned to the desk. He adjusted his spectacles - more tax man than Auror. Nobody liked to make their personal life everyone else's business but surely Maya should have known better!

"Here," he flipped open the file and pinched a thick sheet of papers together to hand over to the girl. "Take these, fill them up. It's a form for supplementary pay." It was usually single Auror mothers who filed in the request if they badly needed the money in order to do their jobs right.

Solomon cleared his throat. "I'll authorise it to go through. We can't afford not to have anyone staying late you understand. And yours is largely a desk job..." he paused, frowning. "You can bring her into the office if you don't have an alternative. What's her name?"

1.	Aisling Cooper

"I don't see what you could possibly stand to benefit from omitting such information." Carstairs wouldn’t understand, Maya thought as she watched him dig through his filing cabinet. Her boss was married. He’d not had a kid before a career and been left to raise them alone. It was embarrassing.


To a witch who was currently trying to provide for herself and her daughter alone, supplementary pay should have sounded like a good idea and something she should jump on. However, for the first time in months, Maya was proud of herself for actually managing it and not relying on Bug. Unforunately she was only getting by and the forms would help. Until she could get a better paid job that a Personal Assistant.

The gesture from Carstairs seemed like a nice one until he pointed out that they couldn’t afford anyone not staying late. He was doing it to get her to stay after hours. The suggestion of bringing Katrine into the office made Maya raise her eyebrows. She knew Carstairs was a father; surely he knew how unpredictable children at that age could be. The thought of bringing her onto level 2… and people would know. Auror Eleor in all of his gorgeous masculinity would run a mile when he saw a toddler attached to her hip.
That was never happening.

“Katrine.” Maya said, a hint of her Norweigan accent betraying itself as she spoke her daughter’s name. A moment’s pause as Maya glanced at the paperwork before she looked up to her boss. “My problem isn’t the money, Sir. It’s finding someone to take her. You’ve had kids, you know I couldn’t bring a toddler into this office without causing a substantial distraction. She gets into everything”

Solomon nodded once, approvingly. Katrine was a good name. Pretty without sounding insensible and that was always a good impression to give at any stage in life.

"Oh, only bring her in if you have no choice-" he agreed and reclaimed his tea, pleased that it had not cooled too much whilst they were discussing the papers. "- but if your only issue is finding a nanny or caretaker I'm sure I can ask Irene for a reference. Sort of thing she would know."

It was. His wife was the sort of witch who could never abide by somebody else organising her life and, as a result, she was infinitely more organised than her husband. She'd know someone who was a friend of a friend they could trust, in the profession.

The department head paused in taking his drink to consider Maya Elliot for a minute. "People are dying, Miss Elliot. You can appreciate why we need hard workers such as yourself to work late hours. It's the price we pay for working on level two..." Solomon glanced at his office clock - still a bit of time before he had to be at the Opera House.

"If you would feel more comfortable working regular hours on a different floor, I would gladly provide a reference."

People were dying, Solomon Carstairs felt the need to point out to his assistant, she should feel guilty about not staying late, he meant. Maya pursed her lips in mild irritated but she said nothing. She respected her boss and her job enough to not piss him off by answering back. In any other department, she may have gotten away with that sort of free speech, but one had to be careful when dealing with aurors. As she’d learnt over the past few months; they were a strange breed.

“I won’t need a reference.” The witch decided to say calmly as she leaned forward to take her teacup once more. She didn’t need an ultimatum to know that she would no longer be able to leave the office at five every day and be in for nine. Now under pressure from a scared public, Carstairs needed to put the pressure on his staff.

“So let me clarify, Sir.” It was somewhat evident that Maya was irritated but she was doing her best to hide it. “I’m expected to stay until you go home every night and if no one can watch my daughter I’m to bring her here until you go home? And if I don’t…you will give me a reference to work elsewhere?”

"Are we introducing shackles to the desk next?" Eyebrows were raised as she observed him over her cup of tea.

Solomon suspected that he did not sit well with the younger witch, if her tone of voice was anything to go by. The shackles comment rather cinched it.

He lowered his cup with a half-smile and leaned back in his chair. It sounded like an ultimatum the way she phrased it but there was no point in concealing the nature of this meeting. Not many people could do Elliot's job - except she wasn't entirely doing her job if she disappeared as soon as the office clock swung to five. Although Solomon did not think it was fair for anyone to have to choose between their career and children, he didn't much care for inefficiency.

"I'm a reasonable head of department Miss Elliot, and would hardly keep you on those evenings in which your presence is unnecessary..." his tone was neutral, friendly. Only with the slightest edge. "There's work to be done and frankly it doesn't matter why you can't do it, if you continue as you have. I've offered supplementary pay and recourse."

A pause as if to indicate that he had followed to proper and professional conduct. He put down cup and saucer entirely, interlacing fingers over the desk. "There is the option of hiring a second assistant, at an unfavourable pay-cut to your current position. But in all fairness, you said it yourself - I had children. I know it isn't easy but I can't afford to make your life any easier."

Most department heads had their administrative staff deal with problems like Maya Elliot. Solomon preferred to deal with his personal assistants on his own, as they often had to work closely with him, and he detested the fact that this sometimes meant making difficult decisions.

"This department needs someone who can commit to its interests. If you can't, I kindly request you seek employment elsewhere."