1650 hours. Waiting room of the office for the Head of the DMLE.


This whole thing[1] had been ridiculous to begin with and it was only getting worse. She had certain like, expectations about working at the Ministry but this wasn't one of them! After a quick to-and-fro[2] with Carstairs' personal assistant, Dido strolled into the waiting room holding the latest of Ballentyne's messages to be hand delivered.

She had other things to be doing! And so did Ballentyne, weren't there murders to look at or something?? So stupid.

"So." Dido slapped the memo on to Abby's desk, raising an eyebrow at the blonde girl before glancing at the little house of memos being constructed in one corner. "Ballentyne wants me to hand deliver this but let's not do that dance and just pretend I did, yeah?" she sat on the edge of the table.

There was a lotta stuff Dido didn't know about social life at the Ministry of Magic - she was still trying to get around everyone's accents. But she knew that it was streetsmart to befriend other assistants. Lanningham told her to, anyway. There was some kinda 'network' of secretaries and gossip mongers.

 Abby seemed more her speed than some of the older girls and guys.

"Dido Tansi. You can call me Dido or Deedee," she smiled and held out her hand, fingers splayed. "I like your desk. Total glitter fest."

1.	This Could Have Gone in a Memo
2.	17th Jan - Babysitting the Bosses

That late afternoon, Abby was ready to abandon her post. A cup of cold tea sat on her desk, next to a bowl of candy, a glass pyramid paperweight, and a moving picture calendar in a glittery frame. She was ready to go home and throw off her puffy-sleeved sweater in favor of a tank top and shorts that she'd sit in next to a roaring fire.

Abby looked up, waving at the tall girl who she assumed to be Ballentyne's assistant. Curly hair. Curly hair club! Abby fluffed her own blond curls. Carstairs had missed out on that requirement as cool person and department head.

The girl sat right on the edge of her desk, seemingly oblivious to Abby's short stature. Bold and brash! Abby's type of person. An American accent too - Abby was growing fond of those. She scooted her chair over to face her better, and plucked the new memo up as soon as it was slammed down.

"Dido or Deedee," Abby smiled at her, shaking her hand lightly. "Call me Abby or Unicorn Girl - long story. You can never have too much glitter on Level Two. I decked these halls out over the holidays."

Had Dido been here in December? No, Abby didn't think so, she must be newer. New for the New Year.

"One second," Abby opened up the memo none too gently, sighing as she glanced in the direction of Carstairs office.

She skimmed it over. Witch power? Ouchie?

"Hashtag help!" Abby widened her eyes at Dido, showing her the string of nonsense that Ballentyne had listed at the bottom of the memo.

"Carstairs thinks a hashtag is a type of animagus, so really, the joke's on her," Abby plopped the memo down onto her house of Ballentyne-memos, letting them all topple over her desk in defeat. She was done! That was it!

Unicorn girl! Dido narrowed her gaze slightly, trying to suss out if Abby was one of those horse girls. She had a girlfriend who dated a horse girl once, told her that horse girls will always love horses more than anyone else so don't even bother with them. They were enchanted by equine romance.

The desk was lacking a full wall of unicorn photos though so maybe Carstairs secretary just liked unicorns in a normal way.

            "Hashtag help!" the squib exclaimed, giving her a peek of Ballentyne's note. "Carstairs thinks... joke's on her."

"Oh fuck," Dido cringed and then laughed, rubbing her temples. "She wants so bad to be cool or whatever. I think she's having a mid-life crisis. Quarter life crisis?" she considered this, but decided it was bad form to complain too much about your boss when you're trying to make friends with someone.

It didn't look like the waiting room was hopping with activity right now, so Dido looked around with blatant curiosity. "Nice place. What's your guy like?" she could tell he was definitely going to have some hallmarks of a typical rich white man but there was room to wiggle in that archetype. "Ballentyne thinks he's a real jerk but I don't know if all these memos are proving her point..."

Ooo, more gossip. Abby looked delighted and shot a glance at Carstairs' closed door, mindful that she was often chatting away while her boss was working, but it was nearing the end of the work day, and he was already aware of his hashtag-confusion. He let underlings have opinions as long as they also did their jobs.

"He's like, old-school gentleman. Tea every afternoon, always polite, always emotionally in control," she straightened and mimed a stiff upper lip, then smiled.

"He's probably a little old fashioned and forgets the problems of real people, but that's why I'm here, to explain youth culture and why so-and-so can't make a meeting because their favorite puffskein died."

Abby hadn't been there to take notes during his meeting with Bruce and Baggynold. Therefore, disaster.

Still, he'd let her have plenty of time off when she'd needed it since August, and never hesitated to call her in on the weekends, and she appreciated both, that he treated her fairly and with understanding.

"Bruce isn't too bad though, is she?" Abby raised her eyebrows. Fauna seemed to adore her (typical Fauna), and at least Bruce's memos attempted humor.

"This month has been insane," she said lightly but with the slightest bit of sympathy. Poor Dido, recent hire getting thrown into the thick of things.

To her disappointment, Abby's description of Carstairs didn't sound all that dissimilar to how Dido might describe her da. A little old-fashioned? Check. Tea every afternoon? Check. Polite? Check? Emotionally in control? Double check!

            "Bruce isn't too bad though, is she?"

"Nah," her mouth twisted into a careless half-smile. "She's just another power witch you know? They're all the same, in heels or combat boots. But she's never boring." Dido gestured at the collapsed house of memos that Ballentyne had failed to send to the head of Law Enforcement - Merlin knew what the older woman had expected to happen.

The clock over Carstairs' office door caught her eye and Dido quickly slipped off the desk she had perched upon. "Whoops. Better run. Should we get drinks sometime? I need the lowdown on this madhouse. Whenever Lanningham clues me in it feels like homework."

Now that they'd met in person, she could see that Abby was exactly the kind of girl she wanted to get to know. Witty, funny, and the squib gave the impression of being well-connected. Maybe you had to be well-connected, to work for a department head.

"Ciao!" Dido winked as she turned to leave. "Here's to hoping there aren't any more attempts at hashtags."