The newest ministry employee was expected to be greeted in reception by the head of the being division at 8:30 that morning. Mr Carter, the newly appointed Head of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures arrived far earlier than 8:30AM and instead headed straight for his office on Level 4. Neither did he need nor want a chaperon to show him to an office clearly marked for the Head of Department.

It wasn’t difficult to find the correct office; by 7 o’clock he was amongst the few staff members already there. Directly outside the large wooden entrance was a desk for his assistant whom he was yet to meet. A quick check confirmed the office door was unlocked, and Alec stepped inside, leaving the double doors open to enable him to witness the morning arrival routine of his new staff.

A few people were heard greeting one another, nosy gazes directed towards the office door. From the outside, Alexander Carter could be seen sat at the desk, leafing through parchment and updates left for him by his predecessor. The wizard was dressed in a black shirt, long sleeves rolled up to his elbows to reveal arms scratched over the years. His collar was done up, a neat burgundy coloured tie hanging from his neck. He didn’t tend towards robes, finding them cumbersome and uncomfortably warm. London was far milder in temperature to what he’d become accustomed to over the past few decades in Norway, and therefore Carter still had some acclimatising to do.

Every so often, when someone passed the door to take a look in, Alec looked up, dark eyes taking in the newest staff member; nosy enough to stare but not brave enough to step in and greet the new boss. Nevertheless, to each, the wizard offered a smile and a nod. He would be meeting the majority throughout the day; the priority for now was to assess the department that he was to take over.

“Morning,” Ceph greeted as Kayla dashed into the lift after him, grasping his arm to keep her balance as the lift set off in a sideways direction.
“Gotta be on time,” she told him, letting go to snatch at a handhold dangling above, “Mr Carter starts today, and you Mrs L said I had to make extra effort to be in on time, like.” Ceph raised his eyebrows and smiled, “And I wanna leave early to get my hair done, my cousin’s gonna cut it so I look well fly tomorrow.”
“Er, right.” Ceph replied to his secretary, and then remembered what she was on about. He’d been more preoccupied with work matters as he’d made his way in than the fact the squib was turning 18 on Monday, and had therefore planned an epic pub crawl for her friends on the Saturday before. “You didn’t actually check with me if you could leave early…”

The lift gates rattled open and it began to empty into the floors between them and their stop. Kayla engaged in excited conversation with some young interns from Games and Sports who got in, and Ceph decided he could broach the subject again later, instead lapsing back into silent consideration of his tasks for the day.

Level Four was already awake and kicking. The floor was rarely quiet, and it was usual for some animal to be tearing around the desks and a backdrop of squawking. That was just Beast Division. His own was more modest. The Goblin Liaison Office (where he’d spent a number of years) were all impeccably turned out, like city bankers, keeping an eye on the financial situation and appraising goblin objects like jewellers. The house-elf relocation office were altogether more approachable people, and there was a small queue of waiting house elves sitting in their pillowcases, teacozies and tea towel outfits hoping for kind masters. The other teams were clustered around desks, many of them still empty, their occupants likely to turn up by nine from further afield.

Ceph and Kayla wound their way through the desks, Ceph greeting good morning, Kayla taking memos and other items extended to her from the desks in his wake, all the while reminding people where to meet for her badass pub crawl in Diagon Alley in a very loud voice. Ceph eventually turned round and gave her a frown shaking his head without a word, just enough to imply it wasn’t appropriate. She continued in a hushed voice, and Ceph tilted his head back with a frustrated expression before the open double doors of the Department Head’s office caught his eye.

He was meant to meet Alexander Carter in the Atrium at 8:30 to welcome him up to the floor and introduce him, but it appeared the wizard had already got there and installed himself. Well, that was one job saved that morning, Ceph supposed, carrying on to his office to drop off his papers and coat, leaving his door open to summon Kayla to give her some instructions for the day.
“8 o’clock, ya promise?"
“Kayla!"
“Yeah, at Rover’s we’re gonna-"
“Miss Greensleeves!”

Five minutes later, Cepheus made his way across to the open double doors. His slight frame was dressed presentably in white shirt and navy waistcoat with matching suit trousers and a deep green tie. His beard was trimmed neatly, and his mane of hair combed back. To his relief, Alexander Carter was not presented impeccably - he was altogether more practical in appearance. It was unlikely level four would employ a pristine suit-wearing pen pusher, given what staffed it.

“Good morning,” Cepheus greeted, knocking on the open door for good measure. “Cepheus Gamp, Being Division. Welcome to the Department Mr Carter.” He stepped forward and extended his hand to his new boss to shake.

Whoever the organiser of the Badass pub crawl was, Alec noted he would be having a word. Outside of the workplace, Alec enjoyed socialising as much as the next wizard. Moreover, he undoubtedly enjoyed it more than the next wizard considering the tan line where his wedding had been a month ago until he’d been caught cheating. There was, however, a time and place to discuss such festivities. In the office was not one of them. If the creatures department at the Norweigan ministry was anything like the British, there were too many distractions to get carried away with plans to crawl around pubs.

With that voice drowned out now by distance and the growing activity outside of his office door, Alec pulled another document off the pile. A slimy warm liquid suddenly covered his fingers and his expression wrinkled in disgust. A closer inspection revealed it to be a creamy brown gunk. Perhaps it was better not to know the origin of said brown gunk.

“Good morning,” the soft male voice greeted from the door and Alec looked up from his spoiled hand. The wizard who was due to greet him in reception in just over half an hour. Alec’s lips formed a tight smile and he stood, moving around the desk as Gamp offered a hand to shake.

“Good morning, Mr Gamp,” The wizard nodded, giving his grubby right hand a wave, pulling a face. He offered his left to shake instead.

With that done, his wand was pulled from the holster on his hips and a quick cleansing spell was performed.
“Is it common practice for ah…” A quick sniff of the document from a safe distance told him where it had come from “pixies to defecate on reports about…” his eyes widened marginally, “bestiality education?”

The British ministry would take some getting used to.

       "Mr Spectre..." a timid intern addressed him, holding a ceramic mug.

"Not now!" Balfour had just stepped off the elevator, wearing a dripping red anorak over a pair of khaki coveralls that had clearly seen much better days in the field - his boots were sullied by mud and he held a pair of soiled gauntlet gloves in one hand as he made his way towards Beast Division. The faint scent of charred flesh carried through, perfuming the fourth floor.

He had been up at dawn, in Wales, ushering in a new dragon from a different sanctuary that had been sent to help supplement the Ministry's dwindling reservation.

The intern trailed after him with the mug in her hand as he started undoing the anorak. "Mr Spectre!" she exclaimed in a more panicked voice.

"What is it? What do you have there?" Balfour handed her his gloves for the mug, and nearly dropped the blasted thing. It was full of flobberworms. He stopped dead in his tracks, rain jacket hanging open. "This isn't my tea," said the Division head dumbly. The intern took back her mug and shoved the oversized gloves at him.

She raised her dark eyebrows in good imitation of his secretary. "The new department head is here, sir, was what Mrs L was saying I should tell you."


There didn't seem any reason to delay meeting Alec Carter - Balfour sheepishly thanked the young witch before he headed towards the open door of the department head's office. And just in time to hear the tail-end of a query.

       “Is it common practice for ah…pixies to defecate on reports about…bestiality education?”

"Are you certain that's excrement?" Bal came through with his usual bluster, noting that Cepheus was already here and drawing up next to the younger wizard. "They're a randy lot, our pixies. Good to meet you Mr. Carter. I see you've had the usual welcome."

“Oh,” Ceph said quietly as he saw the state of Carter’s hand and swapped his offered hand to shake firmly. His hand felt tiny in comparison to his new boss, but that was quite normal for Level 4, given Ceph’s size.

“Is it common practice for ah… pixies to defecate on reports about… bestiality education?” His new boss asked, inspecting the paperwork. Ceph opened his mouth to reply, but sensed an approaching figure, the rustle of an anorak and sound of boots, and turned slightly at the desk to regard the incoming figure.

“Are you certain that's excrement? They're a randy lot, our pixies. Good to meet you Mr. Carter. I see you've had the usual welcome."
“Not just the pixies.” Cepheus echoed. “Morning Balfour.” He looked his fellow Division head up and down, an amused smile on his lips. “And that’s probably Gonchar’s report, he and I were at Hogwarts last Sunday educating students on why we don’t bed hags. You had a fun morning, mate?"

He laughed at Ceph's quip, hoping that Carter wasn't much of a stickler about that sort of thing - not that it would have mattered. Hollow was hardly a casanova after all. Careful not to get much rainwater or dirt on the floor, Balfour peeled off his anorak whilst surreptitiously giving their new head an appraising look. Nothing to give away the sort of leader he'd be.

       "You had a fun morning, mate?"

"Well, it isn't fun if someone isn't nearly burning their arse off," he draped the jacket on his arm and ran a free hand through his curls - they looked grey, flecks of ash caught in them. "But we've the new Welsh Green installed in Pembrokeshire now, so I can't complain."

Balfour sighed, gruffly satisfied by the morning's work, and then offered his sinister hand in Alec's direction. "Sorry. Balfour Spectre, I'm forgetting my manners."

“They're a randy lot, our pixies.” The scruffy and field worn wizard stood in the doorway of his office and Alec looked a lot more dubiously at the report than before. Excrement, he could deal with; he’d spent 10 years of his life knee high in dragon dung. But what his new colleague was implying… He needed to wash his hand again.

The usual welcome. Alec’s lips twisted, a small smirk appearing as dark eyes took in the pair of wizards in his office. Gamp, he’d read, was the Head of the Being Division. He didn’t look as expected. Alec’s experience in beasts and beings mean he’d grown accustomed to big wizards having done their time in manual labour before settling for a desk job. Apparently Britain was different. Now the scruffy character who managed the randy pixies? He was far more expected (if not greatly appreciated in the mostly clean office).

"Sorry. Balfour Spectre, I'm forgetting my manners." The ash covered wizard offered his hand.
"I'd avoid the right one too..." Carter shook left hand with left.

“Beast Division Head.” He muttered, more to himself than his new colleagues. “Welsh Green… I’ve not seen one of those in a few decades.” He smiled, a genuine friendly one, giving a shrug. “Dragon tamer in a previous life. Not all that many run ins with randy pixies, mind.”

“… Well, it isn't fun if someone isn't nearly burning their arse off,…” Ceph was about to reply well stop sticking yours out at things and remembered where he was, and who was there.

“Dragon tamer in a previous life. Not all that many run ins with randy pixies, mind.” Carter explained his history in two short sentences. Made sense. His English had a strange accent, Scandinavian? Hadn’t someone said Carter was working in Northern Europe?

“There’s a chap about to retire in Balfour’s Division who can tell you many a tale, then.” Cepheus remarked, his left hand having found a home in his trouser pocket, and his right gesturing back and forth between him and his fellow Division Head. “We haven’t actually been told a great deal about you, sir.” He addressed Carter, “though don’t suppose anyone’s told you much about us as a Department either.”

“Hey, memo for you,” came an all too familiar voice from the doorway, “Alright Mr Carter,"
“Kayla…” Ceph reprimanded weakly, though he took the pink paper plane, “Not now…” That look from the 17 year old was all too apparent that she had not been able to resist a gawp at their new boss.
“You smell a bit funny Mr S.” His secretary remarked, sniffing the air and looking suspiciously at Balfour before retreating.
“My secretary, she’s … not quite trained up yet.” Cepheus explained awkwardly, unfolding the memo for a cursory glance. “Not like Balfour’s.”

"Ah right, Alphonse...." Balfour nodded at his colleague's reference to the soon-to-be-retired dragon handler in their division - it was a bit like saying goodbye to family, as that was how he treated everyone who worked with him anyway. They had one another's back; this included Ceph of course, and even the Terrible Primrose Woolfolk on many occasions.

All that remained to be seen now is whether they could all count on Carter to be part of the family.

The Scotsman turned to their new boss when Kayla popped by, cheerfuly deflecting from the awkwardness of the interaction. "You can have the grand tour of our reservations anytime you'd like-" he offered Alec on realising that the older wizard was once a handler. "- the sanctuary in our Isles are the best but we're still recovering from the epidemic. I'm sure you heard about that?"

It had made international headlines, particularly their recourse to Australian assistance to end the vile spread of the disease. Balfour was about to say as much when Greensleeves made her remark.

        “You smell a bit funny Mr S.”
"...Not like Balfour’s.” Cepheus seemed apologetic about his young secretary - that was simply the way of things, Bal never really gave much thought to the subject.

But he resisted the urge to smell himself. It came of getting used to the scent of dragons.

"Nobody is like Mrs Lanningham." Balfour smiled at Ceph, almost self-deprecating, and turned the smile on towards Carter. "I think she's practically a fixture by now, our Mrs L. She knows what you want before you want it, and I've not seen her slip up once in all my time here."

“We haven’t actually been told a great deal about you, sir.”

“Very little.” Alec had read reports and details about the department. It was how he knew what the two in front of him did. But he hadn’t been told detail. Most ministries liked to keep things under wraps unless you were in the circle. Having been employed with the Norwegian ministry until the end of February, the British had been reluctant to share. Now he had a damned lot of reading to do.

"- the sanctuary in our Isles are the best but we're still recovering from the epidemic. I'm sure you heard about that?"

“Awful mess.” Carter muttered, having moved around his desk, he now stood straight, an inch shorter than Spectre. “I didn’t envy you with that one. We’ve been pretty fortunate in Norway with our populations. Nothing major’s-”
He was interrupted.

The young witch (the voice of the crawling pub), appeared in the doorway, commenting on the smell of her superior and then being ushered away. The boss watched, dark eyes observing. His next week would be observation; it was important to get to the know the department you were suddenly in charge of running. After that week she’d be in trouble.

“I’ll look forward to meeting her.” Alec’s voice was distracted, not at all focused on Mrs L, his mind on the young secretary of Gamp’s.
“But your secretary,” The wizard suddenly looked somewhat serious, dark gaze on the thinner of the wizards, “She needs to learn when to wait. And to keep her personal life just that. I’ve been in here less than an hour and I know too much.” It was then that he frowned, expression softening. “Badass pub crawl? Why would you crawl around pubs? New British thing? We’re talking over 30 years since I lived in England. Have I missed that much?”

Mrs L was the lynchpin of the whole Department, in reality. Without Mrs L, Balfour and Johann might have spent rather longer in their Muggle police cells on Valentines day. Hopefully Hollow had kept that under his hat and not written it up anywhere when he caught wind.

Cepheus cringed as Carter remarked about Kayla.
“Yes Sir.” He agreed, lowering his gaze slightly, awkward about it. “She’s turning 18 on Monday, bit excited-"

Hang on. Did Carter just ask what a pub crawl was?!

“Er… No, Sir, she means moving from pub to pub taking a drink at each with a group of friends. It’s actually quite a tradition of the Department, only we don’t tend to leave Death and Co. since Margo Amherst set it up. She’s another former dragon handler who took early retirement last year.” Cepheus explained, gesturing with the pink memo in his hand. “Not-,” he added quickly, “to imply that Balfour has a terrible track record in retaining staff and keeping them in one piece…”

One such member of said staff chose that moment to walk in – a step above ‘battered and bruised’, but not by much, though he certainly wouldn’t use the word choose.

In fact, he wouldn’t have come in at all, were it not for the sad but real fact that he still had work today. “I’m have new copy,” Grigory announced, sloppily waving said copy of the report just discussed prior and sleepily scrubbing his face with his other hand. Brown curls stuck up this way and that, save for one side, despite the toque currently protruding from one of his pockets. “Sorry about pixie shit, that from Thursday, I think—I’m swear it clean when it sent. But I’m guess they found it anyway? Mrs. L-” He broke out into an enormous, leonine yawn. “Izvinite. Mrs. L say make new copy, so…”

He stopped, suddenly noticing the unfamiliar face seated at the Head of the department’s desk, and frowned, hand falling away. He squinted. “…You not Hollow,” he finally rumbled, eyeing Alec suspiciously. He glanced between Balfour and Cepheus. “Who this?”

Grigory was iffy with memos even at the best times; for him, the important stuff had always been the beasts. Management went through so many changes, even important positions had become reduced to mere names on paper – recipient addresses for reports. At one point it had gotten so bad that the Russian wizard had given up, swept all the little Spellnotes into a bin and started addressing his To Head of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures—sans actual name, until he was no longer allowed. But with so many bosses in and out, where was the point in remembering them?

For the first time in a while – a long while – they had a boss who’d lasted over a year. To Grigory that was reason enough not to expect a return to the norm. Before either Division Head could reply, he looked back at Alec, brows raised. “That boss’ desk, you know.”

The act of crawling around pubs was a strange; the act of simply moving between pubs to drink was definitely better. Alec nearly laughed when he realised what exactly the young Kayla had meant. A knowing smile twisted his lips as he leaned back against the desk, dropping hands into trouser pockets.

“Not to imply that Balfour has a terrible track record in retaining staff and keeping them in one piece…” Just as Gamp took a back step on what he’d said, a beast of a wizard darkened the doorstep owning up to the ‘pixie shit’ in very stunted English. Dark brows rose as Alec studied the fella, watching him carefully while wondering what the department head had been doing hiring someone that couldn’t string a sentence together.

“Herregud…[1]” He muttered under his breath.

Upon the brute spotting him leaning against the desk, Alec couldn’t help but smirk. His arrival had been shared with the department’s staff. He’d even attended earlier in the month for a series of interviews. Had this guy been lost up the arse of a dragon?

For a moment, Alec considered. He could play this one of two ways. Did he want to appear a jerk on the first day and go with his instinctive response? He needed to be a professional. These wizards didn’t know him. They’d had a practically foreign boss dumped on them from another ministry and were expected to respect and follow. He didn’t need to insult the staff immediately.

“My desk.” The wizard went with professional, offering the second scruffy wizard a smile as he stood straight once more and offered the previous soiled hand out. “Alec Carter. Boss.”

1.	Norwegian Slang 'oh my god'

Big G was a marvellous illustration of Ceph’s accidental implication. He’d not been looking fantastic of late, to the point Cepheus had wondered if things were not well with Primrose. Still nobody had run screaming from werewolf legislation, so they were not in serious trouble. Well, not yet. Perhaps he better pay a visit later to the team who had once been part of his Division, and check there wasn’t trouble in paradise. He’d hate to discover that the Woolfolks thought Prim was angry with him, given they thought he was courting Prim after many years of shoving them together at social events.

“Who this?” Ceph drew breath to reply, but it seemed Grigory might have remembered, “That boss’ desk, you know.”

Ah, no. Ceph’s right hand fingers curled around the pink memo in his hand, about to gesture to interrupt, but now feeling the moment was too late, given Carter’s expression. It looked like their new boss was about to retort. Beautifully awkward situation, but he couldn’t deny he was glad this was Beast Division making a hash of things, rather than his Division. Kayla had already filled that quota.

“My desk. Alec Carter. Boss.” There was a smile. G was safe. Carter seemed alright.

Ceph noted the right hand being extended was the one previously not offered to he and Balfour given the pixie shit. Grigory had admitted to the source, albeit accidental, so perhaps he deserved it. Still, Ceph couldn’t quite hide the start of a cringe on his face at the handshake. He deflected his attention to his towering colleague, who made Cepheus feel tiny in comparison, and studied his appearance.

“Grigory, you alright, you’re looking rougher round the edges than you normally do. You weren’t wrestling the Welsh Green with Balfour were you?” Ceph asked. Had they not been in the presence of his new boss, he might have patted the big fellow’s arm in a concerned, friendly manner, but he was the weedy suit-wearing one with 3 blokes who wrangled beasts, all many inches taller.

       “Not to imply that Balfour has a terrible track record in retaining staff and keeping them in one piece…”

Balfour laughed in good humour, the sentiment having been stifled when their new department head exhibited ignorance of local colour; understandable of course, given experience and age. He had to refrain from asking what archaic term Carter had used back in the day to indicate their practice of pub crawling.

Grigory arriving saved him the restraint. Their circus of a division was now in full swing, with dragon handlers following closely on Balfour's heels from Wales. Outside the office, other wizards and witches in wet anoraks were forming an excitable hubbub and the scent of charred flesh was even stronger.

Balfour pressed his lips together firmly, quelling mirth. Surely it would take more than a disoriented handler to annoy Alec; people of their profession were a patient lot where it counted.

At any rate, Cepheus intervened before anyone else could. “Grigory, you alright, you’re looking rougher round the edges than you normally do. You weren’t wrestling the Welsh Green with Balfour were you?”

"He was, actually -" Bal interjected, partly to Carter by way of explaining the condition of his staff. "- we were using Grigory as bait this morning, I sent him back early to do paperwork. She was starting to get a taste for Russian, our girl."

He meant they were using G as a distraction for the Welsh Green but more often than not this was tantamount to being a lure once you were out there.